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#naoya telling stories
sapphic-schizo · 7 months
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god the culling game sucks ass just end this shit already i don't care about randos from 1000 years ago why can't shounen manga ever just focus on the main characters instead of bringing a bunch of new randos into the mix and shoving everyone's favs into the void never to be seen again
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Depending on how thorough Maki's slasher movie moment was (she seemed mostly focused on combatants), it's actually pretty likely Toji's mother/Megumi's grandma is still alive. Food for thought.
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haeryna · 8 months
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the purest shade of white ↪ okkotsu yuuta x reader ⸙͎。˚⋆ 𓋼
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summary: yuuta looks almost like an angel, you think to yourself grimly, as you shift on the balls of your feet. you haven't seen your best friend in a couple years now, not since he left for africa. too bad he's attempting to kill the kouhai that you're trying to protect.
tw: manga spoilers! anime watchers, do not read. mild angst but happy ending. starts at the beginning of ch. 139. naoya zenin is here and he is his classic asshole self. reader is in the same grade as yuuta, both in age and in terms of cursed energy. swearing because reader is a bad bitch. mildly suggestive. unironic use of "senpai" and "kouhai." slight descriptions of blood and injury, everyone is subjected to the author's attempts at writing dialogue and fight scenes. not proofread but at this point that shouldn't be a surprise. it is blatantly obvious that the writer also does not know how to end stories
notes: thank you for 100 new friends! :) poll is technically still up but i'm impatient and yuuta was winning by a pretty decent margin so here it is lol. divider by @/saradika-graphics!
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"Yuuji!" you yelp, slicing the head off a curse with a clean stroke of your katana. Purple ichor splatters to the ground as you whirl, searching for the familiar head of pink hair. "Stay close to me!"
Behind you, Choso grunts with exertion, sending out another bolt of Piercing Blood. Panting, you weave through the curses, letting their corpses fall behind you. Yuuji, where is Yuuji?
As the last body falls, you can't but let out an exasperated huff at the sheepish grin on Yuuji's face. "Don't scare me like that," you chide. "How am I supposed to protect you if I can't even find you?" Yuuji opens his mouth to protest but you shake your head. "I made a promise," you tell him, pain rippling through your heart dully. Gojo-sensei was long gone, stolen away by one of the people he had loved most in the world. Grimacing, you sheathe your katana, mindful of the blood that stains your palms, as you try to ignore the memory of his words all those months ago.
If anything happens, I need you to protect Itadori Yuuji. I know they're going to pull something on him once I'm not there to back him up.
"Senpai, what should-"
Yuuji immediately tenses as your hand flies to the grip of your katana. "I smell a rat," you mutter, nose wrinkling as you turn to face Naoya Zenin, standing atop a bridge. He bares his teeth at you in semblance of a smile. "How perceptive as always," he mocks.
"Cut the bullshit," you snap, hand still resting on the pommel. "What do you want?"
"Fushiguro Megumi," is his rather bland response, and you shift your feet into the opening steps of Flowing River.
"What do you want with Fushiguro?" Yuuji yells, and the way Naoya's face twists makes you want to vomit.
"I think I'll have him die."
Cursed energy fills your body as you leap. Naoya's resounding cackle burns through your ears as you swing, barely grazing his shoulder. Before you can push forward off your feet, a heavy presence rests on your shoulders, locking you in place. All four of you freeze. Yuuji and Choso look horrified, and Naoya looks as though he's broken out into a cold sweat. But you know this feeling, feel it settle back into your body as if it never left.
Okkotsu Yuuta steps out from the building ledge, dark eyes unreadable. Your body sings. Yuuta, Yuuta, Yuuta! His hair has grown longer, bangs sweeping over his forehead, eyebags a little darker than they used to be. You can feel Rika's presence, swirling around you in a mass of death and decay. You're used to it. You've grown to crave it, even. His eyes meet yours, and for a split second, his facade cracks. Confusion, fear, and...regret?
Yuuta leaps, slamming into concrete and sending shockwaves deep into your bones. "Who's with Itadori?" God, even his voice is different, so different from the boy who said goodbye to you so long ago. You open your mouth to speak, but Choso beats you to it, brows furrowed.
"So you're Yuuji's executioner."
Blood turns to ice in your veins, and you can tell by the pained expression Yuuta has that you aren't hiding your emotions as well as you think you are. Naoya laughs. "I was going to tell you that, but you were being too emotional like the bitch you are."
"Who're you?"
Yuuta's voice is cold, but as Naoya babbles on, you can feel the horror settle thickly into your chest. Choso and Yuuji are talking behind you but it feels like you're underwater, you're sinking, drowning, and Yuuta must have come to a conclusion because all of a sudden he's surging forward-
You move before you can even think, steel clashing against steel. "Yuuji," you say, through gritted teeth. "Run."
A horrible grating noise fills the air as you let cursed energy flow through your body, shoving Yuuta's sword away from yourself. "I won't let you kill him," you hiss, body already shifting into Jagged Bolt. Yuuta's eyes flash as you surge forward, katana in hand.
"How would you describe my cursed technique?" you had asked Gojo, mindlessly swinging your feet. Gojo hums.
"Have you ever heard of Newton's Law's of Motion?"
You had crinkled your nose at that. "No?"
"An object in motion, stays in motion. Except you are the object. And your cursed energy is the motion." You remember how Gojo's lips curved slightly. "In other words, once you start, nobody can stop you."
You're crying, you realize with a start, as you cut a line into Yuuta's chest. Moisture seeps from your eyes as you twist your forearm into a parry, katanas sparking with each strike. Belatedly, you sense that Yuuji, your foolish, stupid, loyal kouhai has stayed, trading strikes with his fists between the precise movements of your blade. Your heart drops as Yuuta reaches for the ring on his finger.
No. No!
He twists it, and Rika appears behind you. Claws sink into your shoulder and you let out a cry of pain as she flips you into the ground.
"Be nice, Rika," Yuuta chides, as you hit the concrete. Blood spurts from your mouth as you choke, fingers clawing at the ground desperately for your katana. A piece of scaffolding is practically crushing your legs; instinctively, you know that if you try to break through it, you'll tear your limbs right off.
As Rika holds Yuuji up, you lunge desperately, uncaring of what you have to sacrifice. Inumaki's arm, the way half of Nobara's face had been practically ripped out of her skull, the remains of Nanami-san, the way that you were the one to find Maki's charred body-
I can't lose anyone else.
You scream as Yuuta pierces Yuuji's chest with his katana, cursed energy building in your legs as you prepare to shoot forward. Yuuta turns, eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion as he sees you about to tear yourself in half just to reach Yuuji.
With a wave of his hand, Rika dives for you, and everything goes dark.
Yuuta had known you were special from the day he'd first met you. That spring, when Gojo-sensei had dropped him (and Rika) into a class of unsuspecting first years, he remembers that out of the four of them, you had moved so gracefully that he hadn't processed the katana in your hand until you'd pressed it against your throat.
"Gojo-sensei," you'd hissed. "What is this?"
While Maki, Inumaki, and Panda had been subsequently bruised up by Rika, you had dodged every single one of her movements until Rika had been (barely) called back by Yuuta.
"Another Special Grade," Gojo had hummed. "Just like you, hm?"
Special Grade?
What he hadn't realized then, he realized later; you weren't just special to him, but to the entire rest of the Jujutsu World as well. Special Grade Sorcerers were rare, Maki had told him. "You only have it because of Rika," she'd scoffed, "but she deserves it."
You quickly became one of his closest friends. You were fast enough to dodge Rika's ire, even laughing whenever she tried. You'd shown Yuuta kindness that he didn't think he deserved. You broke him out of his shell enough so that when he left for Africa, he felt as though he was standing with his own strength. His first katana had been the sister blade of your own, forged from the same metal by the same hands. The way your eyes had lit up when you saw it was a memory he cherished.
Somberly, Yuuta eyes the chains encasing your wrists and ankles, each decorated with the slips of protective paper that would nullify your cursed energy. Most sorcerers required only one. You required at least twenty.
He knows you, knows the way you always take the strawberry daifuku, leaving him the red bean ones even though he knows you prefer the red bean. He knows that you push yourself hard, harder than he's ever seen anyone work. But most of all, he knows your loyalty, how once your heart finally lets someone in, you'll never let them go.
Did you miss him like he missed you?
The chains are more for your own protection. He needs you to hear him out before you attempt to end his life for a second time. Yuuta knows now that Gojo must have asked you the same thing he'd asked him; to keep Itadori Yuji safe from the whims of the higher ups. Gojo, being the forgetful bastard he was, probably didn't alert you to the fact that he'd gone to Yuuta for help as well. Crouching, Yuuta eyes your body with a sad tilt of his lips. The injuries you'd sustained were immense, and it had taken quite a bit of his own cursed energy to reverse.
Will you forgive him?
You're asleep, breath hitching every so often. Yuuta wonders what you're dreaming of, before pushing the thought away. Tenderly, he cups your face in the palm of his hand, calloused fingers stroking your cheek.
"You need to wake up now," he murmurs, as your eyes flutter open, first in dazed confusion, before sharpening into panic.
"I'll miss you!" you'd cried, as you clung to Yuuta under the shade of the large oak. You were the first person he had told about his departure to Africa, and you took it hard. Yuuta had stood frozen as the first of your tears had dripped down your cheeks. It was the first time he'd seen you cry.
"I'll be back before you know it," he'd murmured, pressing a featherlight kiss to the top of your head. You'd looked up to him, eyes teary.
"Promise?"
"I promise," he'd said, interlocking his pinky with your own. A love like Yuuta's is a dangerous thing, you know, but in this moment you feel nothing but safe.
The first sensation you feel upon awakening is the dull ache in your (miraculously still attached) legs. The second is the warmth on your cheek. Yuuta is standing above you, hand gently resting against your face. Immediately you lunge forward, teeth bared. The rattle of chains stops you, and you swear. Of course he would have taken precautions. Yuuta looks almost hurt as you violently shake off his touch.
"Don't touch me, I swear to god I'm going to rip you apart."
Yuuta says your name sadly, but you're practically trembling with rage.
"He was just a kid, with the kind of power we wield, why the fuck would you listen to the higher ups?"
Yuuta echoes your name a bit more firmly, but you ignore him, tears building in your eyes.
"You're no better than the rest of them are you, you're just-"
"Senpai!"
Your heart stops as Yuuji pokes his head out from around the corner. They must have brought you back to Jujutsu Tech, you think distractedly. Just how long were you out?
"Yuuji!" you cry out, scanning his body for any injuries. He seems to be uninjured, but most importantly, he's alive. Tears fall down your cheeks. "Are you alright?"
Yuuji appears horrified by the sudden outburst as he hastily holds up his hands. "I'm fine, senpai, really, I'm sorry for worrying you. Okkotsu-san is actually on our side, I swear! It was a binding vow, that's why he had to actually kill me, but he did some really cool Reverse Technique shit and I'm all good now!"
Warily, you eye Yuuta, whose expression resembles that of a kicked puppy. "Okkotsu Yuuta," you say, voice hard. "Let me out of these chains right fucking now."
With a wave of his hand, the papers attached to the chains fall to the floor. Yuuta looks dejected as he looks away from you. "I'm so sor-"
Before he can finish you immediate tackle him into a hug, knocking the both of you into the floor as you bury your face into the soft slope of his neck. "You're such an idiot," you sob, unable to hide the rush of emotions going through you. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Tentatively, Yuuta wraps his arms around you, and you melt, pressing yourself closer to his body. "To be honest, I think Gojo-sensei is to blame. I think he forgot to mention to either of us that he asked us to do the exact same thing."
You let out a hiccupping laugh. "Of course he did. That forgetful asshole."
The sigh Yuuta lets out is shaky as he nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry," he tells you earnestly. "I must have scared you, and Rika's mad at me for making me hurt you like that. I think she likes you, even though she pretends not to."
You look up at him, really look at him, and see the look of adoration in his eyes as he stares back down at you. Thankfully Yuuji's escaped long ago, most likely understanding that you two would need privacy. "You came back," you whisper, and Yuuta's resulting smile makes your heart skip a beat.
"I promised you, didn't I?"
Before you can stop yourself, you pull Yuuta down for a searing kiss. He's so soft, and you nip at the plush of his bottom lip teasingly, pulling a whine from his throat. His large hands grip your hips, and in retaliation, you grab a fistful of his hair and tug. The breathy noise he makes goes straight between your thighs. You know he can feel your smile against his lips.
"I missed you," you breathe, pulling away. Yuuta looks dazed, lips kiss swollen, pupils so dilated that you can barely see the soft brown of his eyes.
"I love you," he blurts out, and your resulting laugh is airy as you press another chaste kiss to his lips.
"I've always loved you, Yuuta," you admit. "During Shibuya, I thought I wasn't going to make it. You were the only thing keeping me going."
The look in his eyes is fierce as he tugs you back into him, enveloping you in his arms. "You'll never have to worry about that again. You have my entire life. Where you go, I'll follow, and if I die, not even Death would be able to separate me from your side."
"Those sound a lot like wedding vows, don't you think?"
Yuuta's blush covers his entire face and you grin, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "Come on now. We have kids we need to protect."
As Yuuta leads you to where the others have convened, even under the dark circumstances you're in, the warmth of his hand clutching yours fills you with a giddiness you hadn't experienced in months. The sentiment is quickly dashed as soon as Maki opens her mouth.
"Fucking finally. Inumaki owes me 3,000 yen."
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jaegerbby · 1 year
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➳ my soul searches
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--͙[naoya zenin x female! reader]-͙-
╰┈➤ word count; 6512
╰┈➤ rundown; you might be ignorant about anything concerning naoya zenin but somehow he knows everything about you.
╰┈➤ caution; mean! naoya, DUBIOUS CONSENT, virginity loss (mentions of blood), dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, no prep, choking, use of the words slut, whore, bitch (degradation), MISOGYNISTIC ideologies mentioned, manhandling, 1 thigh smack, cum eating, cunnilingus, fellatio (head pushing & rough), belly bulge, throat bulge, size kink, mentions of fingering, hair is referred to as 'cascading' on one occasion. sex on a futon (just so it won't be confusing).
if there are any more warnings i should add please let me know. not proof read!
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naoya is awful.
he is a horrible man.
everyone knows it.
whether it be due to the countless stories everyone gossips about or witnessing firsthand the vicious things he does.
you were privy to outrageous hearsay spreading but you did not care enough to understand.
as far as you know, he is a powerful man.
and in your clan, you bow down to powerful men.
you have been fed lies that you do not have much to offer.
women were responsible for wifely duties and child bearing.
it is all you learned your entire life.
you are surprised when there is news of a member of the zenin clan's impending visitation. the people within your district make countless preparations and take any precaution necessary to ensure they meet naoya's standard. the last thing they want is to face his acrimony.
there are rumours of a potential alliance and it seems exceedingly promising to be closely associated with such a powerful family.
the day of his arrival, everything looks auspicious. you are shocked at the innumerable women adorned in luxurious clothing and decked in lavish jewellery.
you certainly do not understand all the fuss about him. you swore everyone hated him.
the welcome is extravagant and curiosity gets the best of you because you find yourself tip toeing to catch sight of him.
he is definitely not what you expected. he is young, his expression is all too smug. you never had the opportunity to see him before but he is gorgeous. in every sense of the word.
he is the definition of it.
sharp narrow eyes were lined, push pink lips with a barely visible cupid's bow and a straight nose although the tip was slightly upturned. his brows were thin and straight. if anyone looked for long enough and he smiled you could see the indents of dimples. he was truly pretty.
naoya tells the head of your clan that an alliance will only be formed provided he receives something. that whatever he wishes must be granted to him for congruity in return.
somehow, someway he pinpoints you in a crowd of too many people.
you were astonished when his stony eyes found yours. you try to tell yourself, you are not the one. it must be someone else. it has to be! you are proven wrong when your mother grips your arm and drags you up to him.
she bows, her hand roughly shoving your head down while you fidget. his stare is heavy, it makes you want to hide away. your parents practically offer you to him on a silver platter.
your eyes look everywhere but at him while he requests a room. unabashedly he speaks for everyone to witness.
his fingers find your chin, tipping your head back to look over your face. he towers over you. "dress her up." his voice is raspy and deep. he speaks to your mother though he does not spare her a glance.
you are speechless, you can only imagine what it means. an uncontrollable amount of thoughts pile into your head as your mother takes you away.
virginity means everything to a young girl like you. you need to be one to get married. it is your clan's way of life so why do your parents not care? your mother dresses you in the finest silk, something they could never afford before. she knots your hair in a bun and it hurts when she pulls at the strands.
decorative pins are stuck into your hair, some nicking your scalp. she drapes a heavy chain around your neck and squeezes your hand as she forces bracelets onto your wrists.
you look just like every other woman that dolled up for naoya zenin in anticipation of his attention.
you realise your parents do not care for your dignity as they usher you into an intricately decorated room.
they crave the validation of everyone else more than they care about you. you always knew that but you never thought they would go to this extent.
"be good and listen to everything he says." your mom commands. she shoves you to your knees on the thick layers of satin.
"this is for everyone's betterment." your father adds like it would make any of this right. you have no choice in the matter.
they were giving you up for naoya to do whatever he pleased because they were greedy for admiration.
you worry what it meant for you afterwards. you worry what people would think once you left these four walls.
the door slams shut upon their exit, you nervously shift. you wonder if you could run away. the weight of the jewellery feels uncomfortable, the clothes are so thick you swear you are sweating. they seem impossible to do anything in.
it feels like an eternity when naoya enters. his broad back faces you as he closes the door. his presence is intimidating, his aura is immense.
you swallow hard.
you are only to speak when spoken to.
yet you want to ask what took him so long.
why did you chose me?
what are you going to do to me?
you cannot question him. that is not your place.
you are sitting, hands anxiously twitching where they rest on your thighs. your eyes drop to the floor as he faces you.
he draws closer, your breathing stops as he circles you. he does it slowly, intently like he wants to memorise you from every angle.
you feel like prey, you are awaiting your predator to strike. there is absolutely no escape. his gaze sears into your being.
in a way he is scary. "strip." his deep voice instructs. your body tenses, breathing more laboured. you are unmoving as he steps closer. he cups your head, it is softer than you expected. he tilts you back to look at him, you are made aware of his bulge right in front of your face.
it is when he grips your hair, disheveling your bun that you realise it is all pretence. you shriek as he forcefully lifts you to your knees. the way you reach for his hand is futile because you cannot stop him no matter how hard you try.
"don't make me speak twice, y/n." you wonder how he knew your name. you were no one. you were not anyone important to this clan or world. "now take your fucking clothes off before i do it myself."
he shoves you back, you just barely brace yourself. his nimble fingers reach for the laces on his robe as he undoes them with ease. tears prick your eyes, you shakily tug at your bracelets. your movements are frantic enough to send them scattered across the floor. you rip the necklace from your throat, it stings where it nicks your skin.
your hands endlessly tremble when you pull off the layers of heavy fabric draped on you. you are too busy removing your clothing to see that he is already bare.
once you are rid of anything that preserves your modesty, you fold your arms to hide your body. a man has never seen you like this and you never thought the first time would be under this circumstance.
naoya's eyes trail over you, he is already hard. it is borderline painful. he was hard from simply thinking about you obediently waiting for him.
you feel his presence behind you, he lowers himself to his knees. his hands reach for your shoulders first. they are large and rough, they elicit goosebumps across your skin as he trails them down to caress your arms.
he pulls you into him, the hardness of his chest meeting your back. his arms surround your body and you tense at the feeling of his heated cock brushing your skin. his dexterous fingers remove the pins from your hair, he undoes the bun to allow the strands to cascade down your back. he brushes it over your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your nape.
you are shocked by the softness of them. he trails more kisses down the upper part of your spine. it is mind muddling.
"i can tell you haven't fucked before." you jolt at the sound of his gruff voice. his warm breath meets your skin and you shiver. his forearm comes around your front to keep you flush against him.
"spread your legs, let me see your cunt." he speaks without any shame. you hesitate and his displeasure is evident because his palm connects with the flesh of your thigh so hard that you shriek. your skin stings.
you have no choice but to open your legs for him. he slips his hands between them, his wide palm cupping your cunt.
you cannot breathe. it is all so overwhelming. you notice the evident veins on his lower arm as his hand covers your sex completely. it dawns on you that you have never had this intimacy before. you have never even touched where he would be.
he clicks his tongue, his presence makes you anxious. everything he does makes you tense.
he grimaces, you are not wet. not in the slightest.
naoya removes his hand to spit into his fingers, the fluid is pressed to your clit as he strokes it. he does not like the way you bite down on your lip to muffle your sounds. he hates it.
he rolls the bundle of nerves, pinching it before he slowly trails his fingers down your slit. the tip of his finger prods your entrance, gliding along it though he does not enter.
your smaller hands grip his forearm and for some reason it makes him hug your body tighter.
you breathe shakily in anticipation of his next move. it is a foreign feeling to be caressed but you can hardly complain. it is the furthest thing from unpleasant. it annoys you how good it feels.
"i'm shoving my cock in here." he huffs. the length of his finger coaxing through your lips has you writhing.
"going to stick my dick in this little hole and make you my bitch." his words are vulgar. the obscenity of his remarks have you furrowing your brows.
"it sounds good, right? having your pussy filled to the brim. i'll even fuck my cum into you." his jaw presses into your temple and you unsurely blink. he is so big, you feel like you are tucked into him.
he pinches your clit and you choose to focus on that rather than what he is saying. it feels good, enough to make you squirm. each time he does it, your cunt leaks with liquid. his entire palm strokes up and down, smearing sticky liquid over your cunt.
"naoya." you mewl. he has you spread open on his lap as he strokes your dripping pussy. he knows one thing for certain, your pretty voice forming his name is the greatest thing he has ever heard. he loves the sounds you make because of him.
you are so wet now, you are drenched and leaking. the sticky liquid trails out of your slit endlessly. his fingers steadily collect it and your lips part when he pulls away. your eyes follow his hand as he brings the sodden liquid digits near his mouth.
it is dirty. it is gross, it must be. somehow, you find yourself entranced. his tongue slips out to lave over his drenched palm.
"so fucking messy." he grits his teeth, he tilts his head to you. his wet hand grips your jaw, "you always taste so good." he presses his mouths to yours.
you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he aggressively kisses you. despite your inexperience you try to replicate him.
his expression looks irritated as he wetly separates from you. he forces you onto your back, leaning over you. his eyes glimpse at your cunt and they trail up your body.
you are on display for his prying eyes. he gropes your breasts, kissing and licking down your sternum. you are delirious as he sucks on your skin. he kisses all the way up to your jaw before he covers your mouth with his.
he licks into your mouth until you are a breathless mess.
"i'm not prepping you. m'not." he squeezes your jaw. "the first thing i'm stuffing in your pussy is my cock and it's gonna hurt. it'll hurt a lot but you deserve it." he airily speaks, his eyes dark.
you stare in confusion, panic sets in your chest. what wrong did you do? you wonder what warranted having your virginity stripped with no compassion.
you were more than aware he did not care for you.
as far as you know, you are suppose to pride yourself in your virginity. you were to save it for your husband and no one else. the man between your legs is a stranger, the man telling you such nasty things is nothing to you.
you swallow hard as you stare at his intimidating size. the head of his cock is purplish and dripping pre cum. his shaft is thick and it seems to go on forever. you wonder how it is suppose to fit inside you.
naoya grasps his aching cock to tap the head on your clit. you try to move away, you really do but he is so strong. he is completely unmoving. he coats his tip in your slick before pressing into your hole.
despite how tight you are, despite how big and thick he is. you shove at his abdomen, his abs flexing under your palms. "naoya please." tears stream down your cheeks but he relents. he cups your thighs to bring them over his and spread you open.
his rough fingers find your perked clit, rubbing it in aggressive circles. you hate to admit it but it feels too good. your hands clamp down on your mouth to mute the moans escaping you.
you gush on him with no fanfare. this entire circumstance makes you feel like an easy slut. he presses more into you, reaching the ridge where his cock and shaft meet. your legs jolt the further his girth fills you.
your insides squeeze and clamp down trying to deny his intrusion, you make naoya crazy. "fucking stop." he hisses. you are like a vice around his pulsing cock.
he says what you should be saying. you should be telling him to stop but you do not. you should be screaming and crying, telling him to get off of you but that is the last thing in your head.
it feels good. more of him is pressed into you and your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. it is an unfamiliar feeling but the pressure in your abdomen is more pleasurable than painful. you find yourself adjusting, you are still so tight that naoya loses his mind.
he presses down on your clit an inch accompanying the motion and you shriek at the feeling. he continually rocks his hips, slowly coaxing over your bundle of nerves. your hands find purchase in the sheets, panting while you try to gather your bearings.
the stimulation has you fidgeting, it has you moaning his name endlessly. your thighs tremble on either side of him and your expression is contorted at the feeling. he looks down at your body, tongue slipping out to coat his lips and you find yourself wishing it was in your mouth, on your skin. anywhere you wanted him.
he leans down, his muscles rippling and the flesh along his abs bunching in little rolls, his biceps are almost as big as your head. you feel like he was strong enough to lift you with one finger. he seemed that way, strong and mighty in all that he did.
his hips shallowly move to thrust the portion of his length he has managed to shove into you. "you're fucking me." you stutter, your voice barely audible. you have never spoken those words, have never even conjured them up.
naoya's eyes flash, his large hand spanning over your stomach, trailing between your breasts and then gripping your throat. "m'not. but i can, i can fuck you so deep you feel it here." he squeezes the sides of your neck, eyes glancing to your leaking cunt that soaks him even though he has not gotten to the hilt.
the warmth and tightness of you makes him ache to have his entire cock deep in your pussy but you are little and you are looking at him with the sweetest eyes.
he wants to hurt you, he wants to make you cry but you are so adorable. "i can fuck you and have your belly bulging every. single. time. i shove my cock in your dripping cunt."
you have never had someone speak to you like that. you never heard those words strung together nor spoken in such a depraved tone.
you wonder how he could be this handsome. you wonder what led him here, with you.
"i'll make this pussy mine whether you want it or not but you want it, don't you? you want me to fuck you, you want me to have you shaped to my cock and mine alone" he pants. you nod your head, you swear there is cotton between your ears, there is empty space perhaps but there is surely not a working brain.
not after he painted such an image of him fucking you like you were his and turned it to mush. "say it. say it all, say you want naoya zenin to fuck you." you whine, he squeezes your throat, his grip so strong you swore he could crush it to dust.
you whine and babble and your hips move to get more of the stimulation as he shallowly fucks you. your hands find his broad shoulders, just barely gripping them and he leans down. no you could never move someone like him, he let you. he conceded because it is you.
his face is so close, he is composed and collected while you are a mess beneath him. "i want naoya zenin to fuck me" your voice is broken by a moan as he forces more of himself into you.
you whine in his face "i want him to claim me, break me. i only want him in my cunt." your voice is a warbled mess and for some reason naoya did not expect you to be so nasty. to tell him those things. claiming you is one thing but breaking you?
he would do more than break you. he would wreck every inch of you, destroy and decimate it all, there would be no way to return you to what you were.
"then loosen up, slut." you cannot mute the scream that escapes you when the thickness of his girth is pushed entirely into your walls. your legs desperately hook on his hips, so tense they feel sore.
it burns, it hurts and stings but it feels unbelievably good, it did not feel like something you could fathom in a real world only in fantasy.
why, why, why? why does it feel so good? you had no expectations of sex. absolutely none.
when the women spoke they did not entertain such topics. was this what they did behind closed doors? did such depravity remain hidden while they portrayed themselves as saints?
he is so hot, you feel him everywhere. he is nestled inside you like he belongs there, he throbs into your gummy walls.
his large palm graces your tummy, gliding to your lower abdomen. he presses down and you sigh in unison. your eyes wildly look down. "look where my cock is in you, you really are too small to take it."
he is not your husband, he should not have stuffed his cock all the way inside you that his head impresses in your stomach. what right did he have to lay claim?
it does not matter, not anymore. he has your cunt wrapped around him and your body does not protest. no, your body welcomes him with endless slick. it yearns and begs for him. it felt like you were just waiting for him to come and take you.
he pulls out until only his leaking head is enclosed by your cunt. his expression is pleased at the sight of red streaks along him. "got your blood all over my cock. y'know what that means?"
your head is too empty to hear, to function. you cannot quite make out his words but the sound of his voice makes you mewl. you are soaking him again and again.
"means you're all mine." you eyes roll as he shallowly pumps into you. you swear you cannot see beyond him.
his hands grope the perimeter of your waist. "i haven't even fucked you yet and you already look like a brain dead whore." he coos but his eyes are dark.
he is caught up in the sight of your dripping slit stretched around the girth of his cock. his strong thighs flex, you shriek when he starts pounding into you.
naoya bullies his cock into your pussy that will not stop pulsing around him. you are so tight he sees stars. your insides are gooey and warm. he wants to be wrapped in you forever.
his abs strain, his cock is coated in your juices. slick strands are covering him. the more he slams into you the nastier sounds your pussy makes.
"shouldn't be this tight or feel this good." he huffs, he uses your body like a sex doll. he holds you down and thrusts into you so hard your skin stings. every loud collision of his flesh with yours hurts.
"you're my slut, fuck, you're the only bitch i want." your entire body shakes with the weigh of his movements. your eyes water and you fist the soaked sheets.
naoya looks too good above you. the sweat on his forehead dampens his hair and his muscles shift every time he sinks back inside you.
you are delirious, he did as he said he would, he makes your stomach bulge over and over again. he turns your brain into useless chum.
your cunt sputters liquid, his movements are flurried and aggressive. your sex loudly squelches. you never thought it would feel this good.
every vein on his cock slides along your gummy insides, you feel like you are about to pass out. "a whore like you doesn't deserve to cum but i need to feel you gripping me. i need to know how tight your pussy gets when you're cumming." his fingers find your buzzing clit.
"m'not a whore."
"you're getting fucked like one."
all you can focus on is him, he rolls your clit with experience. a part of you hates that despite him being nothing to you. your vision is blurred by tears but blinking them away allows you to see him.
his body seems like a sculpture. every muscle is evident for prying eyes. beads of sweat leak down his temple and his jaw is locked. he looks unreal. you wish he was yours although you do not know him. you have no relation but he is stretching out your cunt and making it his.
your hand grips his, head thrown back as you writhe on the sheets. you breathe in exasperation as his much larger fingers intertwine with yours. he is holding your hand. he is holding it while he pummels your insides.
you are too sensitive and too overwhelmed. when you cum, your entire body trembles. your eyes squeeze tightly and you clamp down on him like a vice. you cream on his cock your entire body coated in sweat while you shake.
the sight of you throws him over the edge.
"shit, fuck, no one is as good as you. no one." he grits his teeth, eyes fluttering. his length is soaked in you, strands coating him and the harder he pounds the more frothy cream collects at his base.
"want you like this forever." his body covers you completely. his arms wrap around your waist to hold you tight to him. all his weight is pressed into you, desperately thrusting his hips as he chases his release.
despite how you whine and cry at the excessive stimulation. your nails digging into his flesh and scratching lines down his skin.
you seem to mark another area of his back every time he pounds into you.
his movements have your body jerking and his muscles flexing. your cunt feels like it is forcefully drawing the orgasm from him, his teeth grit and his eyes flicker as they threaten to roll back.
he is so powerful but right now he looks like he is losing it. his mouth roughly presses into yours, his tongue and spit in excess and his hips stutter for a moment before he slams into you so hard your cunt squelches.
his hips rock as he stays flush to you and for the first time you are getting filled up. it is even hotter than his cock, it sears along your walls, endlessly pouring and leaking as he grows soft.
"you take it so well for a virgin." he pants before his lips claim yours in a nasty kiss.
he says that like he has not already stripped that title from you.
his weight crushes you beneath him but somehow it is comforting. somehow you like it. you like that there is no space between you and him.
your arms reach around his neck, tears streaked down your cheeks while your mouth desperately returns his kiss.
he briefly parts before leaning back in. it is unfair that he has everything. he is too pretty and he seems to be good at everything.
you whine when he sits up on his knees, your hands losing their grip on his muscles. his eyes train where his cock still fills you.
you wince while he slowly pulls out, the cum still dripping out of you. you feel empty without him.
he takes in the cum leaking from your used cunt. all he can think about is doing it again and again. without tire or care. a surprisingly gentle touch swipes your hair from your face before he strokes your cheek and leans down.
his soft lips though swollen softly move along yours. he breathes a bit more laboured as his hands touch and squeeze along your body and his kisses make their way from your neck to your sternum and tits.
you are panting while he trails open mouthed kisses on your skin. his eyes do not leave yours and they are so golden you swear they glow.
your body grows tense when he drifts lower than your belly and suddenly he is kissing right above your cum filled slit and your inner thighs.
"you're so soft." you did not expect it. was that a good thing? his breath is so close to your pussy, it is weird to think he was just inside you.
you squeal, a hand covering your mouth as his tongue swipes over your cunt. "naoya, that's dirty." your voice is muffled beneath your palm, all he does is clamp his mouth on your clit and suck.
laughing into your cunt before his tongue is gliding up and down your slit endlessly.
a man of his calibre was between your legs with his mouth in such a place. it did not make sense. his heated muscle slips into your pussy, saliva coating you in excess.
your feet lift onto the tip of your toes while you moan. you moan for naoya like you were made for it, made for him.
his fingers gently caress the back of your thighs, all while he sloppily sucks up your messy cunt.
he does not want to stop, his cum is inside of you, it is in your pussy.
he came there. he came within your silky walls and he will never stop thinking about it, about you. he pulls back, licking his lips and nipping the flesh of your thigh before trailing his tongue along your slit.
his cum is still seeping out despite the amount he lapped up from your hole. there are sticky strands of liquid on his jaw and mouth as he brings his face to yours
"it's not dirty. what's filthy, is that you let me fuck you like a cock hungry slut." his large palms grasp your tits while you are speechless.
"is that what you are, my cockslut?" you find yourself nodding your head, whimpering in agreement.
you just want to be something to him.
his thumb strokes over your lips while he grips your face, you are so much smaller his entire hand seems to hold it. "you think you can suck me off? get me nice and wet in that little mouth and make me cum?"
you stare up at him with the prettiest wide eyes. you were crying for so long. you cry so much it makes him hard. "i can." you softly whisper and naoya cannot help but kiss you sweetly.
he nips your lips, laving his tongue over them before he sits next to you.
you swallow, he helps you up by a firm grip on your upper arm. your head feels light.
you are surprised when his hand cups the back of your head and shoves down. his erect cock presses against your cheek. "c'mon, don't waste time."
your hand unsurely surrounds the base, you cannot believe something like this had managed to fit inside you. naoya sighs at the softness. your tongue clumsily laps at his slit, the taste of his cum and your juices filling your mouth.
your lips enclose just before his shaft, your mouth insanely warm it makes naoya pant. "take more of it, i don't fucking care if it's your first time." he gruffly says. you are perched on your knees with his cock in your mouth.
moments before you had never seen one in your life.
you are so unsure, you lower on him but the second his tip brushes the back of your throat you gag. you lurch, the muscles constricting around him.
you pull back frantically, coughing as you clutch your throat. naoya finds your eyes more teary. "so fuckin dramatic." he tuts.
his tip presses against the seam of your lips and you have no choice but to open up.
you really do try to be good. you try your hardest to take more but it seems never ending. you gag so much desperately trying to get him seated deep in your throat. but you can't.
that tight little throat of yours can hardly get even half of him in on your own.
"you're shit at this." he laughs airily. you are drooling so much it is insanely messy, he never had it like this before.
every bit of him says to bruise the back of your throat, to fist your hair and fuck into your mouth so that every inch of him feels the silky walls of your throat.
he listens.
at first, his fingers gently caress through your hair. it lasts for a second before he is pushing your head down. your throat constricts and he shudders. he cannot tell which liquid that drips onto his skin is your spit or tears. 
he is vicious and rough. constantly bobbing your head along his cock regardless of how you choke. the sloppy noises are all he needs to get there. the feeling of your gooey throat objecting his forceful intrusion. your muscles resisting. "fuck you're such a good bitch. little baby throat s'taking it all."
his body tenses, hips stuttering to fuck into your mouth. he does not usually come this fast. he shoves you down until your lips surround his base. he swears he can see your throat bulging from his cock. your hot sticky saliva drip all over him as he shallowly ruts his hips.
naoya grits his teeth, moaning loudly before he spews cum down your throat. you jerk in confusion but he does not release you. your hands scramble. he feels you swallowing around him but it is not enough.
liquid spills past the perimeter of his cock.
he tugs you off, your mouth wetly separating with a sticky pop.
"you look pretty like this." your hair is knotted, tear streaks coat your cheeks, your lips are swollen from sucking his dick and his cum is spewed in your mouth in a sticky web. it drips down your jaw but he still kisses you.
still does it all sweetly and cups your cheeks as if he is a nice man.
you eagerly accept it. you kiss and kiss and his salty cum is messily exchanged. you are a breathless mess when he pulls away with spit still connecting you.
"so stupid." he shoves your forehead with his forefinger. you want to cry. he leaves you sitting while he lies on the sodden sheets.
it hurts to hear. you sniffle, looking at him. you let all this happen. you slept with him. this is not some lucid sex dream, it really occurred. he came in you, he touched you everywhere.
he had you in way a man never did before.
you are crying for a different reason now. when the lust that clouded your brain finally dispels you realise everything is ruined.
"do you have any idea what you've done?" tears are profusely coating your cheeks, you tug the blanket to your chest.
you are hiding your body as though he has not violated every inch of it. as if his desecration has not tainted you in the form of bruises and cum.
naoya breathes, his eyes rolling as he folds his arms under his head. "i fucked a bitch, s'all."
your face contorts in more pain. this was never supposed to be your life. you meant nothing to the man who was just inside you.
you were nothing to him. "i can't get married now."
naoya looks angry. the muscles in his arms flex, eyes flitting over to you.
in a second he sits up, the expanse of his palm covers your throat. it draws a sound of shock from you. his face is all too close and you wince at the flashes of him fucking you as they are forced into your mind.
how can you forget it? especially when he is at this proximity, when his hands were all over your body and now he simply held your neck.
his gaze flits downwards, he is angry without a doubt. it is hard to not see it when his skin is flushed red and his jaw is locked.
he rips the sheet from your body before he roughly shakes you.
your eyes flash in panic as you grip his tightening hand. "you have me and you want to marry some lowlife prick from your shitty clan?" he hisses into your face, his nose brushing yours over the nonexistent distance.
you gasp for air because he holds too tight. "you weren't a good fuck. not at all." his hand slips between your legs to cup your cum filled cunt and you blanch.
"you're just a prissy little virgin but you're pretty. i'll give it to you, you're gorgeous." without any warning his digits slide inside of you.
it is forceful and rough as he repeatedly thrusts his long fingers into the soaked walls of your pussy. you grit your teeth. it should not feel good. it should not but you cannot help the uninhibited movement of your hips.
your legs practically part for him on instinct despite how badly you want him to get away from you. that is what you want, right?
you should not want him and your eyes that are trailing all over his defined muscles should be looking to the heavens for some hope.
they should not be gleaming at his pretty features or his damp hair. "and you'll be one hell of a bitch but you gotta prove it to me before i marry you." marriage.
oh marriage, marriage, marriage.
it had been on your mind since you were a little girl. you have ached and dreamed and wished upon the stars for it to find you.
"how?" his brows tilt at your broken voice. he shoves you down until your head meets the wooden flooring and your back stings at the impact.
he is over you, his shadow casting along your figure. "let me fuck you. submit yourself to me alone. if ever you touch another man, i'll know."
his voice is deep, his expression dark. he is terrifying, you wonder how someone so pretty could look so horrific. you swallow hard.
"i'd kill him and i'd kill you." his eyes do not leave yours for a second. he brings your legs around his narrow waist, the weigh of his erection digging into the flesh of your inner thighs.
"but if you be good, i'll marry you. i'll take you away from this place."
you want so desperately to escape, you want so desperately to be anywhere but here. you want to be with him even if he is awful.
"will you marry me?" your fingers itch with the urge to draw him closer, your voice a warbled mess. your legs tighten around him, you want him close. so close.
it seems he knows because he nears until his body is flush to yours. until you are engulfed by his scent and the hardness of his figure.
"i swear it." his eyes flick to your lips, so close to him that they brush with his words. his admission has you gripping his cheeks and kissing him.
it's an inexperienced and sloppy kiss but you do as best as you can and naoya finds your mouth one of his favourite things.
tears leak from your eyes as he shoves his entire length into you and your body tenses.
for the second time that night he claims you.
---
despite wanting to be angry at him, you cannot. not when he kissed every bruise he left on your skin, not when he pressed his lips to yours like you meant something to him.
not when he tugged you into his side and you find revery in his scent.
something about naoya is so comforting you find yourself falling asleep with no issue.
or maybe it is because he used and exhausted your body.
he has you wrapped in his arms with familiarity. your face mushed to his chest and your leg thrown over his waist.
his thumb coaxes along your back, his face nuzzling your hair. you look adorable, you look too precious. even in your sleep you press into him more.
naoya wants to burn the sight into his brain.
you are his forever.
"my soul always searches for yours but you have never remembered mine. not once." he whispers into the air although you cannot hear it.
although you do not respond.
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isn't he so dreamy ^^
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peachsayshi · 3 months
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₊ ⊹ . ݁ MILLION DOLLAR BABY  ₊ ⊹ .
(sex worker!suguru geto x rich girl!reader)
⊹ tags: suguru geto x female reader; nanami kento x satoru; sukuna is reader's ex; character mentions: yuki, mei mei, shoko, toji; alludes to dd/lg relationship (very very mildly) with sukuna; a mix of angst/smut/fluff; domestic; non curse au; reader was in a toxic relationship; reader has daddy issues a bit lol; mentions of troubled past; mentions of death (parental)
:about: you grew up in a supremely wealthy household, but that came with a price. you’ve never had control over your own life, and now your father is set to marry you off. luckily, there's someone else who captures your heart. what does it matter that you pay him for his company?
:note: hi, everyone! this story is finally here, and it's one that's taken me forever to work but I actually loved this piece. I haven't been excited about something I've written in a while. I hope it lives up to all your expectations. comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3 - this fic is one shot, and I am willing to explore stories with the side characters. I'll happily answer any lore questions regarding sex worker geto x rich girl reader, but there will not be a part two or more parts of their story. It is a standalone.
wc: 14K+
The ceiling is covered with hanging irises, each one carefully handcrafted in paper. Edison bulbs dip down from between in staggering heights, illuminating the bar around you in warm light. It’s crowded tonight, clinking glasses and roaring laugher bouncing off the walls and clashing against the bass coming through the speakers. You scan the crowd, anticipation making your stomach flutter, but it quickly eases when you spot a head of golden hair among the audience. 
Nanami is at the bar, looking dapper as usual in a chocolate brown suit offset by a cream colored shirt. He’s drinking a whiskey when you approach him, the amber liquid mirroring the touch of bronze on his cheekbones. You sling your designer purse off your shoulder (the latest splurge of the week) and slide into the seat right next to him. 
“And how was your vacation?” you ask, greeting him with a question and noticing his mouth draw into a firm line. 
“Let’s not talk about it,” he insists, his eyes a little sad which only makes your stomach ache at the sight. 
He’s your closest friend - the only real friend you have. Kento Nanami doesn’t carry two faces. He sticks to the one that he has.  As one of the top investors in the country, he made a name by keeping the rich wealthy. He loathes his job and the pressures surrounding it - a walking hypocrite for despising the life that lines his pockets. 
He can’t find an escape no matter how hard he tries. 
And that's why you’re both two peas in a pod. 
He does, however, like you - not because of your background, but because you don’t try to be something that you are not as well. In a world where you are surrounded by parasites, Kento proved to be a nearly extinct butterfly, quietly fluttering by your side as you both drift across the harsh jungle around you. 
You concede, knowing better than to push his buttons. “Okay, I guess we aren’t talking about it…” 
“Tell me something else. Do you ever know how to walk into the room and not be the center of attention?” 
You smirk as he calls the waiter over.  Your presence easing the twinge of disdain on his face.
“What are you trying to say, hmm?” 
“You look nice tonight. New dress?” 
“New dress, new bag, new nails...” you list off, showing off each expensive purchase as you check them off your list. 
Nanami shakes his head playfully before ordering your usual once the bartender approaches. He angles his body towards you and breathes out a heavy sigh. 
“How are you?” He asks, genuine concern masking his face. 
Your shoulders drop. “I don’t want to talk about it…” 
His expression softens, one hand moving to touch your thigh exposed by the slit of your dress. 
“When do you meet Naoya?” 
He’s the only other person who knows about the pending engagement. The only person who offered you a way out by proposing instead. Despite his stance within the social community, you know that it’s not an offer that you can easily accept. 
Kento wasn’t bred into this world, and that makes all the difference. 
Your father would never accept a man from such a humble background. Especially not one whose offer wouldn't benefit him by any means.
“A few weeks from now,” you reply, eyes shifting to the bartender who passes your drink towards you. “He’s given my father specifications on how I should be presented…” 
Your friend scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Pardon my vulgarity but he just sounds like the kind of guy who wants to swing his dick around. I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up tonight…” 
The opening of the Ayame Lounge & Bar was invite only, exclusive to socialites and the elite. You know that Naoya must have received an invitation, everyone from the Zen’in family was here in attendance including the infamous outcast Toji. 
“He wouldn’t be caught dead here,” you inform, picking up your beverage and taking a small sip. “Naoya likes to uphold “tradition” but we all know it’s just a facade.” 
Kento’s thumb strokes your skin tenderly, worry ingrained in his gentle eyes. 
The two of you spend the night talking, catching up on the little things since his return from a two week vacation in Malaysia. He keeps the conversation light, telling you about his fantastic accommodation and all the food that he ate while he was away. In between you find yourself glancing over his shoulder, your eye on the crowd taking in the people around you. 
That’s when you spot him, standing just a few feet away, looking like a demigod among mere aristocrats. His hair is pulled back into a neat bun, a layer of his bangs kissing his forehead. His face is serious, jaw tight and eyes sharp as he focuses on his white haired counterpart. The black tee hugs his torso, his neat slacks cinched by the waist with a leather belt. You can’t help but bite your bottom lip, your mind drifting away from the conversation at hand. 
Your friend notices, of course. Kento is so tuned in to everything around him that he almost can’t help himself. He glances over his shoulder to see what caught your attention, only to instantly turn back around and stare at the whiskey glass on the table. 
The tips of his ears burn red. 
You register the response, knowing exactly what struck him to react in that way. 
Satoru Gojo -  former porn star, turned model, turned mega influencer. With a follower count in the hundreds of millions, he is the world’s hottest it boy. Nobody can deny his sheer beauty - whenever he walks into a room, he manages to steal a glance from every single person within his vicinity. Due to a rare genetic condition, his sapphire blue eyes and frosty white hair earned him the title of “The Prince”, and the people were desperate to share a place by his side. 
Suguru and Satoru were also the best of friends, a fact that Suguru revealed to you one night in bed. The two of them met on set, back when Satoru was still doing adult films. At the time, Suguru was just a camera man and it was Satoru who told him he could increase his earnings if he just performed instead. 
You remember telling Suguru: “it’s crazy how quickly his life changed”
“Some people are just lucky,” he responded, though you easily picked up the bitterness laced in his words. 
What most people don’t know is that Satoru Gojo is also involved with the man seated right next to you. You stumbled upon Nanami’s secret affair by accident when the two of you attended a resort opening by hotel heiress, Yuki Tsukumo. Everyone was invited to stay overnight for the weekend, and the morning after your first night there, you walked over towards Nanami’s room to grab some breakfast. He greeted you in a grey robe with his hair tousled, with hickeys trailing the side of his neck. You quirked a brow in his direction, your mouth forming into a blatant circle when you found Satoru Gojo fast asleep on his bed right behind him. 
The man in question looks away from Suguru towards you and Kento. His brows lifting in surprise when he spots your golden haired friend, but your eyes rest on Suguru who gestures that he will catch Satoru around. 
They both walk in opposite directions. 
You take a sip of your drink, your eyes shifting to Nanami. 
“You’ve got about five seconds to figure out what you want to say because Satoru is walking over here as we speak,” you inform. 
He exhales and straightens his back, his guard entirely up. 
You smile at Satoru when he approaches you, his pearly whites radiant as always. 
“Hi!” He says casually, though you can hear a touch of apprehension in his voice. “Mind if I cut in?” 
“Not at all!” you respond, “Can I get you a refill?” 
His cheeks blush a subtle shade of pink, the tiny gesture making you understand how easily it is to fawn over such a beautiful face. “It’s just soda, but sure” 
“Not drinking tonight?” You continue, glancing between him and Nanami as you wait for your friend to interject. 
“Actually, I’m three years sober,” he explains. 
“Good for you!” You cheer honestly, before turning to the bartender and ordering him another soda. 
From your peripheral vision you see him inch closer towards your friend. 
“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he states, though his voice comes across as a little small. 
“I’ve been busy,” Nanami curtly replies, and your brows furrow at his unusual tone. 
“Too busy to even say hi?” Satoru continues, his voice low enough that only the three of you can hear each other. 
“Aren’t you here with a date?” Nanami chides, glancing up at him with a mocking eye. 
“Utahime isn’t my date, we both got invited together by our agency…” Satoru answers through gritted teeth. “Besides, I was hoping to spend time with you. I haven’t heard from you since Kuantan…” 
Nanami’s face burns an even brighter shade of crimson, the intimacy of Satoru’s comment flaring his humiliation. 
“Come on,” the white haired prince teases, attempting to ease the discomfort. “Don’t be such a grump. Let’s go outside. Get a little fresh air.” 
You can see that people are starting to stare at the three of you. 
Wherever Satoru goes, eyes follow him. 
While he may be immune to the attention, you can clearly see that Nanami is not. 
“No, thank you.” 
“What? You going to make me beg?” Satoru presses cheekily, but there is a twinge of desperation in his voice. 
“Begging is not difficult for somebody like you,” Nanami bites, and you can’t help but glare at him in shock. 
“Kento!” you chastise, but the look on his face speaks volumes. 
Regret. 
Instantaneous Regret. 
In front of him is a visible hurt that breaks Satoru’s face, like paint slowly chipping away. His eyes gloss over, and he anxiously rubs his hand over the back of his undercut before excusing himself and turning on his heel. 
Nanami covers his face with his palm, while you can only stare at him in disbelief. 
“How can you say that to him? I thought you liked him!” You whisper. 
“I-I didn’t mean to-” 
“You act like you’re ashamed of him whenever he’s around you…” 
Nanami avoids your eye, “How do you think this makes me look? I can’t have people seeing us together. I don’t want the world to swallow me up just because he prefers being gawked at by everyone around him” 
“That’s his job - it’s how he earns a living. I can’t believe you would degrade him over it,” you shake your head, unaware of where your sudden defenses are coming from.
“I know that…” 
“Is that why you don’t want to talk about your trip? Did something happen?” 
The man grows quiet, a sigh escaping him. 
“I broke up with him” 
“You what?” You gasp. 
“It'll never work. Our lives are too different” 
“You didn’t even give him a chance, Ken. He likes you. He really, really likes you.” 
“What chance is there to give? My life would come apart because of him. He would never be truly mine. I would have to share him with the rest of the world day in and day out. And the worst part is that…what should be intimate between us will never be ours either. Do you know that he’s still the highest streamed porn star in the world-” 
“He’s just a person. A person like me and you. Neither one of us chose this life. I didn’t ask to be born into my family, and you weren’t asked to save yours from debt. Yet, here we are. Existing in a world that we had to carve out for ourselves. Don’t you think the same applies to him?” 
You take another sip of your drink, your cheeks warming with anger at your friend’s condescending tone towards Satoru. 
Although, you find your reasons for defending him to be far more self serving. 
“So what if he sells his body? That’s his choice to make. Does it change anything else about him? Does it change his feelings for you?” You lecture, “I can’t believe that you be this ungrateful over skewed morals. If you both care about each other, there is no reason why you can’t be together. Take it from somebody who’ll probably never get the chance. This isn’t something you want to simply let go of, Kento. You’ll regret this decision for the rest of your life.”
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Nanami downs his whiskey and excuses himself then, your words stinging the microscopic cuts on his heart. You find yourself a little flustered after watching him walk away, unsure of where that outburst even came from. 
The eyes surrounding you look away. 
You know you’ve given everyone within your peripheral area a story to gossip about. One that would be twisted and chewed until there is no morsel of truth left in it. 
Your drink gives you enough liquid courage to socialize and face the music instead. 
You steer your way through the crowd hoping to find one person in particular, but instead you are caught among the net of cliques, old faces, and fake friends. You manage to bypass any pointed questions, passing through each conversation with a forced grin and entertaining the discussions at hand with fluffy anecdotes and petty rumours. 
When you walk away, you know full well that there will be whispers behind your back.
That’s the give and take about this world. Everyone is a vulture secretly waiting to witness the rise and fall of those around them. It’s a vicious circle, which is why nobody ever reveals their true hand in the process.  
You glance around the room, honing in on the handsome dark haired boy you’ve grown entirely too attached too except you spot someone else in between who makes your spine seize.
Your toes curl in your pointed heels. 
Your heart stutters unsteadily. 
Blushed strands, a wolfish grin, and a broad build - Sukuna always takes up far more room than he needs. 
You personally believe it’s because his ego is so massive it requires that extra space. 
You haven’t seen the man in five years, not after the messy relationship that that followed your even messier break up. 
You should have known better than to get involved with him while still so young. 
You remember that version of you. When you first met Sukuna, you were a small rabbit who had accidentally hopped its way into a lone wolf’s den. Twenty one and just embracing the glitz and glamor of the world around you. The man was charming, flirtatious and most of all dangerous. You couldn’t help but return to his lair, especially when he would take the time and effort to approach you at every function, party and gathering that you attended. When you think about your relationship with Sukuna, it fills you with shame until you can only drown in it. There is a reason why you’ve kept it a secret for so long. Even staring at him right now, the dishonor hangs on your shoulder like a weighted sin that you’re burdened to carry for the rest of your life. Every time it hits, the memories play like a movie on hyper speed. 
How often you allowed him to spill his seed all over your body. How often he brought you to tears with his tongue between your legs. How often you would moan the words “daddy” over and over again while riding him. How often you let him manipulate your heart. How often you let him convince you that you were happy.  
That twisted relationship was testament to how broken you were. 
You didn’t even know about his wife who lived in Kyoto until it was far too late. 
Your instinct tells you to turn on your heel and walk in the other direction, but you catch Suguru just up ahead in the crowd and your courage outweighs your hesitation. 
You manage to stride past Sukuna,  a darting feline scurrying towards the safety of a shadow. Your hammering heart steadies itself when the trail of his strong cologne is a safe distance behind you. You nervously clutch onto the strap of your purse, exhaling a quick breath before marching up to Suguru. 
You tap his shoulder twice. 
He spins around, eyes lifting as a smile spreads across his handsome face. 
Like a full moon on a clear night sky. 
“Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise.” 
“I sure hope so,” you remark, biting your bottom lip playfully as you glance at your own feet. 
Suguru chuckles, taking a step closer. “It is.” 
You glance up at him from underneath your lashes, your heart vibrating with pure excitement. You think it’s silly to have such a schoolgirl infatuation over him, especially since you understood the terms that surrounding your relationship. 
You pay him for his company. 
You aren’t supposed to have a crush on man who you employ to have to sex with you. 
Yet, your gut tells you otherwise. Convinces you that the softness in which he speaks is reserved only for you. 
“Are you here with anyone?” You ask a little breathlessly, hoping that you weren’t interrupting him working. 
Suguru shakes his head. 
“Satoru invited me,” he clarifies, and it’s an answer that only makes you giddy. 
“Oh!” You squeak, “well that’s nice. It’s a really exclusive party, make sure you to take it in…” 
His eyes blatantly fall over you, cascading down your body like ink dripping over a canvas. 
Your cheeks warm. 
He’s not even hiding that he’s checking you out, and it triggers the wild desire within you. 
“Are you here alone?” He questions. 
You nod your head, knowing full well that Kento is probably in the midst of a heated conversation with his distraught lover and won’t be returning anytime soon. 
“Why don’t you join us then?” He adds, cocking his head to point at the table behind him. 
You glance over his shoulder, barely recognizing the crowd. 
A fact that seems ideal to you. 
“I’d love to,” you say with a pretty smile, all the while Suguru’s eyes continue sparkling. 
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The last time you saw Suguru was a few weeks ago, where your heavy heart spilled the news of your pending engagement. 
“An arranged marriage, huh?” he whispered in the dark, his sharp eyes dipping to your naked chest while his delicate fingers carefully pushed the bedsheet further down to your hips.
You inched a little closer into his frame, soaking in the outlines of his chiseled torso and bringing one finger to trace little shapes on his broad shoulder.
Your brows furrowed with annoyance, “yeah, ever heard of the Zen’in family?”
Suguru scoffed, breaking character for only a second but it’s something that you’ve caught him doing more recently. He doesn’t hold his reactions around you as tightly as he used to. The front of this alter ego that he created faltering, which is probably why you find yourself drawn to the person existing underneath the mask of the seducer.
You sigh before continuing your explanation, “my father thinks Naoya Zen’in is a perfect match for me.”
An uneasy expression flickered across Suguru’s face, but he suppresses it before allowing it to linger. 
You lifted yourself up onto your elbow and rest your cheek on your palm. “What is it?”
Suguru mirrors your position, his large hand gliding back and forth over the slope of your hips and waistline which sent goosebumps all over your body. “I’ve heard that Naoya…” Suguru stated, pinching the pads of his fingers lightly against your flesh before leaning forward to kiss the crease between your brows, “can be a handful to deal with…”
You thread your fingers around his neck, your lips finding his jaw where you return a kiss. “And who told you that?” you murmured as the weight of Suguru’s body rolls on top of yours.
You were staring at his devastatingly handsome face from below. The longer you spent time with him the more you began to wonder about his circumstances and a reoccurring thought crossed your mind once more.
Suguru could truly be anything he wanted, but instead he was here making a killing off of fucking lonely women and porn videos.
You don’t judge his choices, but you couldn't help but feel puzzled by the situation especially when you knew the trajectory of his best friend’s career path. 
One photo shoot at a mid-level fashion brand skyrocketed Satoru Gojo’s career and made him a household name. Yet, Suguru Geto was a taboo that was whispered behind closed doors. 
“I have a client who likes to gossip,” he admitted. 
That’s all you got because Suguru kept everything else about his clients confidential. You shivered when his mouth met your neck, his lips sucking along the tender skin that sent goosebumps all over your chest, but there’s an ache in your heart when you consider that if it wasn’t for the signed cheque in your purse, he wouldn’t even be here in the first place.
Not a single man you’ve met in the world compared to Suguru. You’ve never known how sweet lovemaking can be until he fucked you for the time. Not only was he beautiful beyond comprehension, but he was charming and extremely smart. You found yourself enjoying his company beyond physical purposes, and conversations with him turned out to be one of your favorite ways to pass time.
“Think we’ll still get together when you’re a missus?” he teased, his lips trailing lower to your collar bones and hovering just a above your breasts.
The thought of you getting married only made you sick.
“Do you peg me as a terrible wife? a woman who would happily cheat on her husband?” you questioned, your voice trembling when Suguru circled his lips around your hard nipple.
He hummed, drawing out a whimper when he nipped at the bud lightly, his tongue gliding over the hardened nub. 
“No,” he answered, his voice dropping an octave and your mind swirled when you contemplate if that strange tone is actually jealousy. He rested his chin on your chest, his inky hair framing his face in a waterfall of obsidian. “I do, however, peg Naoya as a terrible husband.”
You sank your fingers into his locks, “it doesn’t matter who my father chooses. All these men are the same. Naoya is no worse than the rest. I’m trapped regardless…”
It was the first time you allowed yourself to think about Sukuna when in bed with Suguru. The first time you thought about the last four years and the many men who tried to weasel their way into your heart just for the sake of obtaining status. The discomfort is written plainly on your face. Suguru doesn’t know that seeking him out was your way of taking matters into your own hands, even in just the smallest way. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he responded sincerely, the kindness in his voice the reason why your eyes prick with tears.
You sniffled, using your free hand to wipe away a rogue droplet that freely falls down your cheek. Suguru adjusted his position so he was lying by your side. He didn't say anything but draws you into his chest for a hug, enveloping you in his warmth. You tried hard not to consider the reality of the situation, and accept the gesture freely as you cuddle him.
But the moment of peace is interrupted by a loud vibration. You and Suguru both perked up to stare at his phone buzzing on the side table.
Your heart sank.
Another client.
Suguru reached his arm around to grab the phone, and you closed your eyes to inhale his natural scent, trying to soak him in for as long as you can before he leaves you like he’s done many times before.
To your surprise he simply switched it off, before proceeding to wrap his arm back around you to return to his position.
“You sure you don’t need to take that?” you mumbled, trying to play off your disappointment as casually as possible.
“I’m booked out for the rest of the evening,” he answered nonchalantly, “there’s no reason to respond.”
A tickle in your belly sent sparks all over your skin. “but your cheque only covers the hours we agreed on…”
Two fingers touched the underside of your chin, and Suguru tilted your head up so you were both face to face again. “Don’t worry about it,” he consoled, his thumb lightly outlining your bottom lip, “this is on the house.”
What bliss it was to fall asleep in his arms that night. You recall waking up right before dawn to find him in deep slumber, his strong arm draped protectively across your body with the heat cocooning you from the rest of the world. 
Disappointment shattered you the next morning, when you were greeted by the sun and an empty bed.
You’re not sure when Suguru had snuck out, but you were puzzled to find that your cheque was still tucked away safely in your purse. 
It was the first time he walked away without any payment. 
You still vividly remember his reaction when he met you just a little over a year ago. 
“You’re young,” he blurted, his eyes widening with confusion. 
“We’re around the same age,” you replied defensively, already feeling insecure for having hired him after spending weeks watching his videos. You didn’t even know about his house calls until you heard it from a source within your social circle. "Is this how you greet all your clients?”
Suguru raised his brow in contemplation, “my other clients don’t look like you…”
Over time you learned that he catered to a specific demographic: older divorcees and cheating housewives.
The person you might turn into years from now if this marriage goes through.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
After that night you told yourself that you would schedule another meeting with Suguru to compensate him for his last session.
Right now, all you can think about is your heart hammering when Suguru subtly interlaces his fingers with your own, and leads you through the crowd until you both find a safe spot on the corner of the lounge chair. His group is far too engrossed in their own conversations to notice you both, drunk on the buzzing night and enjoying the many amenities of this exclusive party. 
“You look nice,” you compliment, catching Suguru’s attention while trying to ignoring his knees bumping against yours.
“As do you,” he replies, his voice smoother than velvet. “But you don’t need me to tell you that you’re gorgeous.” 
Oh but I do, you think, masking your excitement with a giggle and casual roll of your eyes. I could hear you tell me that forever. 
Suguru shyly looks down at his lap, hiding his own smile. 
It’s strange, you think, how the two of you are talking. Like this man hasn’t been inside you multiple times and made you cum until you can’t think straight. Like he doesn’t know your body in the most intimate sense.
Like you don’t fund a decent chunk of his salary. 
“Are you enjoying the party?” 
Suguru shrugs, “It’s not too bad. Though, I’m not one for big crowds if I am being completely honest...” 
“Makes sense. I don’ get a kick out of it as much as I used to.”
Suguru angles his body to face you, giving you his full attention. “Why’s that?” 
You sigh, your hands suddenly feeling empty without a drink. You sling your purse off your shoulder and place it between you both, before proceeding to fiddle with the fabric of your dress instead. 
You can lie, but you don’t know how. 
Well, you don’t know how to lie with him. 
Something about starting this contract with Suguru unveiled a level of vulnerability in you that you can’t seem to hide. The first night you both spent together you were a nervous wreck, stumbling and bumbling over words trying to find excuse after excuse as to why a woman of your age would even hire him. By your third appointment, you asked if he could be slow and gentle with you, the emotional scars of your previous relationship a stinging wound. You were desperate for tenderness, and Suguru obliged with your request. By the end you found yourself reaching your climax with tears in your eyes. 
If you were to list out more moments like this, you would simply go on and on. 
You can’t hide your truth with Suguru when it was the first thing you’ve ever shown him. 
“Because it’s a constant reminder that I can be in a room full of people I know and still feel incredibly alone…” you mumble, your gaze catching his. 
His hand finds your thighs, the warmth of his large palm burning through the fabric of your dress. 
“You’re not alone tonight, sweetheart,” he reassures. 
“You don’t have to be so nice…” you insist, suddenly self conscious over his flattery. The same sweetness he bestows upon you when you’re both locked away in a hotel room somewhere, but you didn’t sign off on any bonus transactions tonight. 
He squeezes your thigh and tilts his head. “But I like being nice to you” 
He says it so matter of factly it almost makes you faint. 
Your brows upturn with confusion. “Why?” 
His touch expands upward, grazing over the curve of your thigh, bunching the material of your dress between his fingers. He leans closer, the scent of bergamot wafting up your nose and kissing your neck. 
“Look there,” he states, and you follow the line of his gaze. 
“That woman has been married for fifteen years and her husband never got her off once. And that woman…” he continues, shifting his eyes from body to body, “has a birth mark just above her hip bone. And at the table right behind us,” 
When you turn your face you accidentally bump into the tip of his nose. 
“...are two sisters who pretend they get along well but are currently in a massive fight over their inheritance” 
Your stomach coils with jealousy. “Acquaintances of yours?” 
 Suguru leans back slightly, giving you both room to breathe. 
“Yes, clients…” he confirms, “there’s a few of them here tonight, but you’re the only one who acknowledges me. I’m just a dirty little secret to the rest.” 
Your envy dwindles into sympathy, and you can’t help but let the question slip. 
“How does that make you feel?” 
There’s a twitch in Suguru’s jaw, a hint of scarred pride. You know he has plenty of it, he just hides it well.
The man shrugs, averting his sharp gaze as he downs the rest of his drink. “It is what it is” 
Oh, but that response doesn’t nothing to help your heart, the muscle practically screaming at your brain to do so something and make him feel better. 
Mindlessly, you loop both arms around his bicep, casually resting your chin on his shoulder. 
“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way...” 
You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, but you’re hoping it’ll mean something to him. He turns to face you, and if he inched a little closer he could probably kiss you. 
“You are an enigma to me” 
“In what way?” 
He brushes his lips past your own, making you catch your breath for a moment. His mouth trails its way up to your ear, and he whispers a sentence that sends goosebumps running all over your body. 
“In the way that how a woman like you can fit in a life like this” 
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The night carries on, the pulse of hedonism sending reverberations across the establishment. The crowd grows larger, the air a potion of liquor, expensive cologne, sweat and pleasure. The lights dim, inducing everyone into the trance of the ambience set around them, allowing them to indulge and consume. Your conversation with Suguru feels like minutes, but two whole hours pass with the both you concealed from the crowd. You’re almost mesmerized by him when he talks, cast under an entirely different spell that seems to effect nobody else. His touches turn more intimate the longer you speak, with Suguru securing his arm around your waist and leaning back against the chair as he keeps you tucked into his frame. 
That’s another thing you started noticing - how this man likes to hold you. 
He even did it when you were in bed together last. 
And the time before that. 
And the time before that. 
And the time before that-
If you weren’t surrounded by so many eyes you would simply curl into him, but you find yourself restraining while thinking of what excuse might work to get you both out of here because you just want to be alone with him. 
“Can I get you a drink?” Suguru offers, a wave of disappointment rolling into you as he untangles himself slowly. 
“Just some water...” 
Suguru kisses the inside of your wrist with the reassurance that he’ll be right back, but the public display only makes your cheeks bloom with endearment. 
“Got it” 
When he stands up and walks away is when you notice how the crowd around you has dispersed. Most of Suguru’s party were gone - standing either by the bar or caught in the middle of the dance floor. You can see that there were a few shifty eyes staring at you, and a lump forms in your throat when you realize that by allowing yourself to melt into Suguru it meant that you revealed your weakness to the rest of the wild. 
You take a second to readjust - fixing the hem of your dress before pulling out your pocket mirror and reapplying your lipstick. You fight off any anxious thoughts, sticking a big metaphorical middle finger to whoever was watching you with any hint of judgement. 
Your care for Suguru outweighed their own by tons. 
You just didn’t know how far you had let your guard down until a strange shadow veils over you. 
“Red still looks good on you.” 
Your heart doesn’t sink, it seizes, collapses into itself when you drop the mirror in your hand. His dark chuckle makes your spine tingle with unease. Sukuna kneels to pick up your mirror, his devilish smiling greeting you as you swallow the lump in your throat. 
“What? Cat got your tongue?” He teases, huffing out another laugh when you snatch the pocket mirror from his hand and quickly throw your things back into your purse. 
“I have to go.” 
You bolt onto your feet, only to pause when his contact scorches your forearm. 
“What’s the rush? I’m just saying hi.” 
You shrug him off aggressively, eyes violent and full of fury. 
“I don’t want to say hi to you. As a matter of fact, I hope that we never have to speak again.”  
“C’mon doll, don’t be like that. It’s water under the bridge…” 
His nonchalance enrages in you ways that you can’t describe, but rather than make a scene you smoothly shove him aside before uttering “asshole” and storming off towards the bar. 
Your frantic eyes search for your solace, of the man who can suture any wound that’s in desperate need of healing. You spot him from behind, noticing that he is speaking to a friend, his shoulder leaning on the bar as he patiently waits to pick up the drinks like he promised. Refusing to look back because you know Sukuna is probably on your trail, you breathe out your apprehension to compose yourself and keep one hand securely on your purse before steadily making your way towards to Suguru. 
You hear the two of them as you draw closer,  unintentionally eavesdropping on the conversation at hand. 
“Who’s the chick?” his friend asks. 
“A friend.” Suguru replies. 
“Which friend?” they press. 
“None of your business…” 
“Ah, one of your desperate clients I’m guessing?” 
You cease before making your presence known.
Stunned; your face boiling with embarrassment. 
“Shut up.” 
“It’s so obvious, Suguru-” his friend scoffs, “she’s practically crawling on your lap. It’s fucking pathetic, don’t you think?” 
Pathetic?
The word splits you into half.
Is that how Suguru sees you? 
Is that how everyone else does to? 
Something clicks then, every memory and act of kindness tainted with the thought the man was simply pitying you. That the root of his good-hearted nature was merely sympathy towards a sad, broken little rich girl. 
Suguru picks up the drink, mumbling a “fuck off” before turning on his heel only to find you standing there stupefied by his friend’s demeaning commentary. Only an idiot would assume that you probably didn’t hear a thing, but Suguru is far smarter than that. Whatever trace of the mask he’s been wearing dissipates then, and you see the genuine concern on his face. He parts his lips but you’re too wounded for an explanation, and you instantly dash past both of them, excusing yourself politely before speed walking your way towards the exit. 
You can hear him call out your name, but there is no way you would let that man see you crying after what was just said. 
Of course he doesn’t like me, you self-consciously deliberate, I pay him to fuck me. 
I pay him to fucking like me. 
A sob leaves you, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand as you rush past the bouncer and dart out the front door, leaving a crowd of people staring at you with confusion. All of them hoping to make their way inside.
“Must be drunk,” one person says, while another screams at the bouncer “hey, can you let us in?! Someone just left!” 
You strut down the street, desperately trying to maintain your balance as you dab your eyes lest your tears ruin your make up. You hear someone call out your name, half hopeful that it might Suguru but when you glance over your shoulder all you see is the dreadful sight of your ex-boyfriend. 
You keep walking.  “Don’t follow me.” 
Sukuna is quick to catch up, practically jogging down the street and you curse your choice in footwear for slowing you down. 
“Then don’t keep running away.” 
You halt, the man nearly colliding into you from behind. 
“What?!” you spit out as you glare up at him. “What do you want from me?” 
Sukuna arches his brow, the smell of whiskey sticking to him. “The fuck got you so worked up?” 
You wipe away any leftover tears, your indignation towards this man overriding all other emotions. 
“None of your fucking business…” 
Sukuna reaches for your elbow, “Let’s not be testy. My car is in front of the bar. Let me take you home.” 
You already caught that eye sore of a ridiculously expensive sports car when you stepped out of club. “I’d rather walk home barefoot on a bed of hot coals then go anywhere with you.” 
“Don’t be like that, kitten…”
“Don’t,” you snapped, “call me that.” 
“You know I still nothing but love for you, right?” He slurs mildly, “Let me take you back to my place and we can talk-”  
His thumb grazes your elbow gently. Once upon a time you actually believed that his affection was real, but you’re older and wiser to know the truth now. “You miss my pussy,” you crudely admonish, “you don’t give a fuck about me.” 
He pinches your elbow with mild irritation. “Why don’t you tuck those claws back. I’m trying to have a fucking conversation.” 
“If a conversation is what you want, then speak to your fucking wife-” you hiss, striking a cord that makes Sukuna furrow his brows which brings you an odd sense of satisfaction. 
His face falls. 
You huff with approval. 
“What?” your mock, “cat got your tongue?” 
“Is everything alright?” 
You and Sukuna both halt, your heads twisting to face whoever spoke with Sukuna letting go of you faster than you can even blink. You only catch a tiny glimpse of his fear, the terror that somebody caught him in the act. 
Thankfully, it was only Suguru. 
Your body hums with relief. 
One hand is in his pocket, the other keeping a helmet tucked under his wing. His stance is relaxed but his irises are piercing daggers sinking into Sukuna’s skull.
“Everything’s fine-” Sukuna insists. 
“Suguru,” you call out at the same time, instantly going to him and finding your place by his side.
The word pathetic hammers in the back of your mind but you need deal with one problem at a time, and right now you don’t care about looking desperate if it means escaping the shackles of Ryomen Sukuna. 
Suguru’s eyes don’t leave your ex-lover, but he inches closer towards you to assert his ground. 
Sukuna frowns, the expression on his face all too familiar. 
You clutch Suguru’s sleeve, “Nothing to fret over. Do you mind taking me home?” 
He turns to face you, a mixture of worry with a flare of anger on that handsome face.  
“Yeah, I’ll take you home.” 
“Tsk,” Sukuna grumbles with frustration, “Don’t cheapen yourself by fucking off with some whore…” 
A static shock trickles each point of the triangle where you all stand. The hair on the back of your neck stands upright, your attention moving to Suguru whose entire face darkens with a fury that you’ve never seen before. He steps forward, his helmet dropping to his hand like he’s ready to wield it as a weapon, and the target is the spot on Sukuna’s skull that he’s been carefully observing. Your vision goes white imagining the outcome of this blow out, and you can practically hear the crack of the impact if Suguru follows through. 
Despite how much he deserved it, you know just how powerful Sukuna is. 
He would ruin Suguru without any remorse. 
“Suguru,” you beg, stepping forward and clutching onto his shirt as you reel him away from the man before you. 
His nostrils flare, the intoxicating poison of wrath swirling in his irises which quickly diffuses upon finding you. 
“Take me home?” You softly repeat, earnest and sincere, all the while erasing Sukuna from your presence entirely. 
It only takes a few seconds for Suguru to register your request, but he complies by reaching for your hand and knotting his fingers between your own. He grips it protectively, eyes looking straight ahead as he leads you down the street and far away from the chaos behind you. 
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The patter of your feet colliding onto the concrete surface echoes around you. A part of you is embarrassed, the other ashamed, a third grateful while a fourth shivers anxiously. You’re thankful that Suguru is at least allowing the silence to linger because it’s giving you a chance to settle from the roller coaster of emotions you just experienced. You try not to think about the pressure of his grip, or how the length of his fingers are wrapped securely around yours and instead piece together some semblance of an explanation worthy for him to listen to. 
You eventually decide that you’ll just grab a cab back to your place. That you’ll thank Suguru for playing the role of rescuer, and hand off the cheque that you’ve been holding onto. You won’t be a burden, bother him any longer or a do anything else to force his empathy. 
Suguru pauses in front of a jet black motorbike. The color itself blending into the darkness around you. You clear your throat ready to make your declaration, but you’re silenced when you feel the weight of his helmet press against your palms. 
“Wear this,” he commands. “I’ll take you to my place.” 
Your mouth goes slack, your practiced words shrinking to the back of your throat. 
His place. 
“Your place?” You find yourself whispering your thoughts out loud. 
Suguru reaches for the handle of his bike, tapping his index finger against it, his back facing you. “If you want.” 
He hops on before searching you for an answer. The look animates you back to reality and you nod your head before swiftly putting on the helmet. You find your place behind him, taking a second longer to adjust in your dress. You knot your arms around his waist, your eyes noting his exposed head. 
“You don’t have a helmet.” You point out. 
“I don’t live that far,” he answers back, “besides, I didn’t think I’d be traveling with precious cargo.” 
He taps his palm over your clasped hands. “Hold tight for me, alright?” 
You nod your head, covering your face with the shield visor before resting your cheek against his back. 
Suguru takes off. 
The wind whips against your bare arms, the pressure sweeping between your legs as Suguru swerves between each lane. The city blurs into vivid colors, only resurfacing when you come to an immediate halt at the traffic light. The adrenaline courses through your veins, the exhilarating sensation a thrill that you’ve never experienced before. Unfortunately, the journey was short lived and within twenty minutes you find yourself coming to a halt in an underground parking lot. 
Suguru parks the bike, hopping off before reaching his hand out to assist you. 
Your legs felt like jelly when it hits the surface, and you tumble on your own footing as Suguru reaches his other hand out to steady you by holding your waist. 
“You okay? Was I going to fast?” 
You take off the helmet, attempting to make yourself look somewhat presentable. 
“No, no” you answer a little breathless, “that…that was actually kind of fun…” 
“First time?”
You nod your head. 
Suguru hums. 
He takes the helmet away from you and directs you straight to the entrance of his apartment building. He pulls out an electronic key, and presses it against the elevator door. The elevator pings, the panels sliding open as you both step inside. Suguru clicks the button to his floor and you both stand on opposite sides watching the numbers go up.
Suguru lived in a newer development, you could tell when you walked through the hallway as he stands in front of his apartment door, and uses the same key to grant you both entrance. 
As you enter the hallway, you’re greeted by a wall with mounted iron hooks. There’s five to be exact, each one holding a different helmet with one space empty. Suguru fits the helmet back onto the vacant spot, before glancing over his shoulder and finding you still by the door struggling to take off your heels. 
He returns and kneels before you. His hands carefully moving your fingers away. 
“Let me help with that” 
“You don’t have to-” but you’re interrupted with him patting his thigh in gesture. 
You bite your bottom lip and place one foot against him, careful not to dig your heel into him. 
He delicately unravels the straps around your ankle and slips of the heel with a brush to the back of your calf, making the muscle twitch. 
“Other foot,” he instructs, then repeats. 
After placing your shoes neatly by the door, he stands up and reaches for your hand once more. “This way” 
You take it warmly, and follow him while trying your best not to acknowledge the noticeable height difference with you two standing side by side.
You never paid much attention to it before, you didn't have too really considering you both spent most of your time together in parallel positions. 
Suguru leads you into the living room, and a small gasp escapes you when you are met with floor to ceiling windows. The horizon is of the city skyline, but it’s half blocked by a decent size balcony which is covered in greenery. The scene contrasts the inside of Suguru’s apartment, which is more minimal. To your right is a small dining nook, the light above an accent piece that added some detail to the decor. To your left is a small furniture set, the sage green fabric making you avert your gaze with shame because your recognized that very same couch in most of Suguru’s videos. 
You find yourself quickly staring at your feet. 
“Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea?” 
“Tea would be great,” you answer back, returning to look directly at him from underneath your lashes. “Do you have anything herbal?” 
“Mhmm.” 
You follow him into the kitchen and realize that the man keeps his place meticulously clean. The back counter is what catches your attention the most. Suguru has a full serviced at home barista station set up for his own convenience. You pick out the coffee grinder, espresso machine, assortment of tea pots, jars of fresh leaves and coffee bags all neatly organized. 
Suguru pulls out one jar with a hand written label that reads "lemon balm and chamomile". 
You slip off your purse and place it on the counter behind him. “Did you make all these yourself?” 
“My parents used to run a tea shop in Hokkaido,” he answers back. 
“A tea shop?” You squeak, a little too excited from the morsel of information about his personal life that he just bestowed. “That must have been lovely…” 
“It was,” he answers, his voice growing small. 
You watch him fill the kettle with water, before placing it on the electric stove to warm up. He opens the jar, closing the gap of space between you both and lifts it to your nose. 
“Take a deep breath in,”
You oblige, and inhale. 
“Oh my,” you sigh out loud, your fingers subconsciously clasping over his own as your eyes flutter from the aroma of citrus, ginger, flora and subtle spice. It calms every firing nerve in your body. “That smells wonderful” 
When you open them again, you see that Suguru is looking at you thoughtfully. 
“It tastes good too,” he says proudly, and your heart glows at the reaction. “I was a terrible night owl as a kid. Still am, I guess. My mom used to make this to help me go to sleep…” 
“That’s really sweet,” you admit, wondering how lovely it must be to be looked after with such care. 
He slips away again, taking a spoon and putting a generous amount of the blend into a ceramic tea pot. You hear the tea bubble lightly, but your head spins as Suguru cages you in place while you both wait for it to reach the right temperature. Your back is against the counter, his arms by your side. 
“That guy you were talking to. Who was that?” He questions, cutting right to the chase. 
“Nobody important,” you confess, “he’s an asshole.”
“Tell me about it.” 
“I’m sorry about what he said to you. What he called you…”  
Suguru’s fingers dig into the counter, making the muscles in his arms flex with irritation. 
“Don’t apologize for him. Don’t apologize for any of them.” He firmly maintains. “Their words are empty to me...” 
“You almost bashed his head in,” you point out, a tiny smile easing the tension binding around the man before you. 
“I almost bashed his head because of the way he spoke to you-” 
Your eyes widen. 
Was he being protective? You think, but shake your head when you think of what kind of pitiful state you must have been that would cause Suguru to react in such a way. 
Pathetic. 
Your shoulders dwindle slightly and you shake it off to gather yourself once more. 
“He was a terrible mistake. I was young, and stupid. I thought I knew better when I really had no fucking clue…” 
You didn’t realize how bitter you sounded until two fingers press underneath your jaw.
His thumb taps your chin in a featherlight touch. “Is it over? Whatever it was?” 
“Of course,” you answer, the truth acrid on your tongue. “I’m to marry Naoya Zen’in, remember?”
Suguru frowns. “He’s no better. I told you that myself.” 
You circle your hand around his wrist. “I’ll take anyone over Sukuna. Even if that person is Naoya…” 
“Why can’t you just choose?” 
You press your lips together and sigh. “Because it’s a transaction. I’m a token in my father’s universe. If he weds me off to the Zen’in’s then it’s profitable. Good for business…” 
“I’m sure if you speak with him, he’ll understand-” 
“Don’t be so naive,” you answer as you return to meet his gaze. “My father doesn’t love me. He just owns me. I spent most of my adolescence alone while he was busy working or galavanting off with his mistress.  I think he assumed that if he kept shoving money my way, I wouldn’t notice his absence…” 
The kettle sings, making you both jump in place as the water bubbles aggressively and a small spiral of steam releases from the lip. Suguru returns to making your beverage. Picking up the kettle and pouring the hot water into the pot. He places it on a tray, along with a beautiful cup. 
“The tea needs a couple of minutes to steep. In the meanwhile, I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” He announces, “You want some spare clothes?” 
You look down at your designer frock, the material snug on your body. 
“Yeah, I’d like that” 
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Suguru’s white shirt falls to your mid thigh, the material a little see through and revealing the bra you had on underneath. You eye the pair of worn boxers he handed to you to wear as shorts, but slyly tuck your bottom lip between your teeth before leaving it behind and walking out with your bare legs on display. 
You’re not quite sure what the plan is here, but you don't see yourself leaving anytime soon.
You head back towards the kitchen where you pick up your purse, your dress folded between your hands carefully. Suguru is opening the door to the balcony, having changed into a cut sleeve shirt that exposes his arms and a hint of his ribs, as well as a pair of loose shorts. When he hears you enter, his attention instantly falls to your plush thighs, a hint of crimson blushing his cheek. 
“Where can I keep my stuff?” You ask innocently, pretending to ignore his reaction. 
“Anywhere is fine,” he answers back, his voice thick. 
He tells you that he’ll wait for you outside, and in the meantime you put down your stuff onto the coffee table in front of his sofa.
You unzip your purse, Suguru’s cheque staring you at you with wide, scolding eyes. 
Pathetic. 
You furrow your brows at the voice inside your head, and swipe the payment before folding it and tucking it securely against your hip underneath the waistband of your underwear. 
You head outside, sliding the window close behind you. 
Suguru is sitting on a deck chair, the two of you camouflaged by the array of his overgrown plants. He pours your cup of tea, the aroma twirling between the current of the wind as he offers it your way. You pick it up, bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. A heavy sigh escapes you, and you remain standing leaning back against the cool glass surface as you stare out into the distance. 
“Like it?” Suguru asks, and you only notice then that he has also brought out a second cup for himself and is pouring his own drink. 
“It’s divine,” you respond. 
“I’m glad” 
The two of you sit in silence once more, mindlessly sipping your tea while contemplating the other person. You’re both at a clear standstill, carefully tiptoeing over the boundary that has so been strictly set in place. 
A reminder of that is the folded cheque digging into your skin. 
“How did you find out about contacting me?” Suguru randomly wonders. 
You look towards him and he shrugs before adding on, “I never asked. I find myself curious.” 
You thrum your nails against the glass cup, taking another sip of your tea before replying, “I saw you at a party with Satoru. I was with a group of friends, and one of them noticed me recognizing you. She asked if I was…familiar with your work. And when I told her I was she informed me that you both were…intimate.” 
“Was it Mei?” 
Your face falls at the blatant disregard of confidentiality. 
“How-How did you know?” 
Suguru huffs, and sips his tea. 
“She’s the only other client I had close to our age. Wasn’t hard to make the connection…” 
“Can I ask you a question?” 
“Go for it,” he replies. 
“I’ve always been curious as to how you wound up doing what you do,” you bite your bottom lip nervously, your hands trembling slightly holding your glass and you hope that Suguru wouldn’t notice your sudden unease. 
“Ah,” he acknowledges, his free hand moving to rub the back of his neck and you can’t help but sneak a peak at his abdomen from the side. “Well, I told you how I wound up making the videos. For a long time I just did solo work, but I knew I could make more money if I had on-screen partners to film with. I had a few good connections with some actresses and hired a friend to make a video with me…” 
You knew exactly which one he was talking about. 
The actress in question was well known, and the video was an amateur clip that was filmed on the very same couch that you walked passed earlier. 
You clench your thighs together. 
You don’t even want to admit how many times you came to that particular video. 
“I didn’t know it would blow up in the way that it did. Shoko and I made a killing off it. We both saw the potential and we wound up doing six full episodes - trying out different techniques, roleplaying in a few…” 
“But you stopped posting after that…” 
Suguru pauses. “How would you know that?” 
You swallow a big gulp of tea. 
“I might have been a big fan of your work before we met.” 
“Really?” He answers with a slight tilt of his head, clearly very amused. 
“I wouldn’t have reached out to just anyone, you know. But I was really interested in...your work, and when I learned about your little side gig. I couldn’t resist…” 
“Well, color me flattered, sweetheart.” 
You swirl the last bits of tea in your cup. 
“So, why did you stop posting?” 
“I kept the videos up. They’re good and I still make revenue with every ad or view. Satoru’s career was picking up around that time, and he had just gotten clean. He needed somebody to hold him accountable so I started tagging along at his events. I didn’t realize how many people would recognizeme. My first client wasn’t even "a client", he gestures with air quotes, "she was just some woman I met and slept with. I woke up the next morning to an empty hotel room. All that she left behind was an envelope of cash…” 
He pauses. 
“I didn’t know what to feel. A part of me was insulted but another part had never seen that much money handed over so easily. The videos were great but what I earned in a day, is what I got in just a few hours. I was in my mid-twenties, just left the brink of making ends meet and desperate for security. I deposited the cash and kept going. Somehow it snowballed into…” he gestures his arms out, “this.” 
He pours himself another cup of tea. “At first I was a little reckless. Took on too many clients it damn near gave me a health scare. So, I started spacing them out. Keeping to a set number a month and maintaining a high price. I didn’t think that so many people would actually pay for my services, but they do...and I'm comfortable.” 
“Does it ever overwhelm you?” 
“Not anymore. Keeping my partners to a minimum helps. I’m safe and get tested regularly, as I mentioned when we first met,” He lifts the teapot your direction to offer you a second cup, and you accept it by approaching him and allowing him to fill your glass. 
“The thing is I went from never knowing when I was going to eat to having three meals a day. I don’t think I’d change that for the world…” 
“What about your family? Your friends?” You find yourself mindlessly asking. "How do they feel about this?"
“Satoru and Shoko are the only ones who know. Everyone else thinks it’s porn that funds my life. As for my family,” Suguru stops, his voice scratchy as he quickly clears his throat. “Well, they don’t have to worry about it. My parents passed away when I was fifteen. It's just been me ever since”  
The tea burns your lip  and your body trembles at the statement. 
“I’m so sorry…” 
He shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. 
There’s a heaviness in the air, and despite how hard he’s trying to hide it you can see how the memory tears him apart. 
“My mom passed away giving birth to me,” you find yourself disclosing to even the scale, “I think that’s probably why my father resents me so much. He never got a son, and lost his wife in the process” 
“I’m sorry to hear that too…” 
You mirror his shrug. “It’s weird. I find myself curious about her - but there’s a detachment when I look at her. Sometimes I think about how different my life might be if she was still around. Or, if she was just like my father and everything would still be the same…” 
“Well, since we are speaking of hypotheticals,” Suguru moves on, shifting the topic as he angles his body more in your direction. “If you had the freedom to whatever you wanted, what would you do?” 
“Me?” You gasp, shocked by his pointed question. 
He smiles an easy smile, “I don’t see anybody else around.” 
You hum thoughtfully. “This might take a minute…” 
He places his cup of tea on the tray by his side and then pats his free hand on his thigh. 
“C’mere and think.” 
Your heart flies up your throat, pulsing just at the base. “You want me to sit on your lap?” 
Suguru nods his head. 
You gulp down the vessel, returning it back to its place. You glide your way towards him, placing the tea cup just next to his own, before settling down onto his lap. 
Suguru wraps his arm around your waist, securing you close into his frame. 
“Do you hold your other clients like this?” 
He shakes his head no. 
“So, you like holding me…” you bluntly point out, “why’s that?” 
Suguru’s face is directly in front of yours, so beautiful you can almost faint right here in his arms. He fingers dig into your waist, his other arm curving over your thigh and gently drawing circles on your hip. 
“Because you fit nicely against me” 
A swarm of butterflies take flight, making you feel lighter than air. You swear he might kiss you then but instead he returns to his question. “So, tell me what would you do?” 
The answer comes to you far easier than you think. From the moment you saw him tonight, you know the truth in the depths of your heart. “I’d like to run away with you,” you confess before stuttering out, “or-or at least somebody like you. Someone who is kind and sweet and thoughtful...”
Suguru leans back against the chair, lifting up one leg and adjusting your positions. He’s careful not to kick the tray with the tea. 
“And where would we go?” 
You sling your arms around his neck, “anywhere - anywhere but here.” 
Suguru slides his palm over the slop of your rear, slipping it underneath the fabric of his shirt and tracing a line over the dimples on your lower back.
“What would we do?” 
“We could lay outside just like this and watch the stars.” 
He hums, “we don’t get any stars out here in the city...”
“No, we don’t.” 
“What else would we do?” 
His other hand starts to unbutton the front of your shirt, revealing the details of the lace underneath. He cups your right breast, his lips shifting to find your neck. 
“We’d do this too,” you sing merrily. 
“Look at stars and fuck our brains out?” He teases, his teeth nipping at your skin. “Sounds like a dream to me…”
He gropes the fat of your breast, unknotting every single secret. “what else?” 
“We’ll sleep all day, and kiss until we’re bored of one another…” 
The hand on your breast moves to circle your neck, Suguru’s thumb massaging the column. 
“I’d never grow bored kissing you-” 
Your body renders against his touch. “Suguru,” you moan, your lips seeking his own. 
Before you can even meet for the kiss, he mumbles your name and follows up with the claim: “you should run away with me.” 
You giggle, still living in the proposed fantasy. “I’m trying to…” 
“I’m being serious” 
The tone of his voice is the reason why you stop to kiss him, pulling away to face the man before you. 
There's no denying the truth on his face - he is actually quite serious about the declaration. 
You hear the dreaded word once more: pathetic. Pathetic because this man is an expert at fulfilling fantasies, is a professional when it comes to healing the hearts of the lonely.
Pulling yourself out of this delusional imagination, you push off him before standing up straight. 
“That’s not funny, Suguru” 
“Who says I’m being funny?” He responds sincerely. 
“What is this? What are we doing? What am I doing? You can’t just-” you lament, pressing your forehead to hand in disbelief as you enter the confines of his apartment, taking a second to breathe. “You can’t just say things like that-” 
He calls out your name again, but the kraken has already been released. 
He follows, tracking into his abode right behind you, all the while watching you stand in the middle of his living room with your quivering hands reaching for the waistband of your underwear.  
“This was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have-I shouldn’t have gone through with all of this,” you yank out the cheque, showing it to him. “You don’t have to take pity on me. I know I’m just another desperate, pathetic client, alright? I promise you don't have to keep putting up with me and my drama after this. And you sure as hell don't have to keep giving me these mixed messages which only confuse me. I can’t have things getting complicated right before this engagement is about to happen. So, here. Take this cheque and let’s just forget everything else about tonight.” 
Suguru stands there, pensive. His eyes look to the folded paper in your hand, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Instead of reaching for the paper, he simply walks past you, making you spin on your heel as you follow his movements with sheer bewilderment. 
He heads towards the shelf behind you and pulls out a tiny box. He removes something from it, before walking back and facing you once more. 
“Shit got complicated about eight cheques ago, sweetheart,” he negates, holding the thin stack papers between his two fingers as he brings it to your face. His eyes fall to to the crumpled one you are currently holding, “Well, counting the one in your hand, I’d say nine...” 
You can’t believe it.
You pick up the wad and sift through each paper; each cheque one of yours, the date issued a reflection of your last nine meetings with Suguru. 
None of them cashed in. 
“Why do you still have these?” 
Two hands find your waist, your forearms fall into Suguru’s chest as you stare mindlessly at the cheques fanned out between your fingers. 
“I didn’t have it on my conscious to deposit them once I realized my feelings for you. I'm sorry about what you heard earlier, but what Mahito said doesn't apply to you at all,” he responds. “You stopped being a client to me for quite some time...” 
You look up at him. 
His touch tightens around your waist. “You can’t marry Naoya. Or, you shouldn’t. But if you do, I don’t want us to stop seeing one another. We can work something out…”
“Suguru,” you pine, dropping the papers in your hand, each one twirling onto the ground, thousands at your feet. 
His lips catch yours in a subtle peck, all before circling over your bottom lip and sucking on the plush base. He slides his tongue between your lips, feeling yourcrumple into him as the paper crinkles beneath your feet. You moan feeling the sensation of his tongue slide across yours - he tastes like running across a field of chamomile flowers, like you’re holding a basket of fresh, ripe lemons. 
Like you're savoring the most beautiful sunrise. 
His hands return to finish unbuttoning your shirt, shrugging the material off your shoulders and exposing your expensive lingerie set. He grips your hips, your ass - his touch hungry before pressing his pelvis closer to your frame so you can feel his aching member beneath his shorts. 
You squeak into another kiss when he swiftly picks you up from the back of your thighs and carries you across the living room. 
He places you onto his sofa like you’re made of porcelain, keeping you on the edge as he kneels to the ground, his knees sinking into the rug. Two hands find your inner thighs which he pushes apart to reveal the pretty triangle fabric covering your sweet cunt. He kisses your clit over the material. Once, twice, three times…until you’re sighing into the pillow behind you. His tongue drags up, pressing your clothing against your sex, one hand drawing upward to find yours which he holds lovingly. His index and middle finger hook underneath your underwear, and he tugs it aside to reveal your slick coated pussy. 
He kisses your clit again, leaving a path down your damp lips which only makes you moan angelically. 
“This is why I’d never get bored kissing you,” he coos, “You sound like heaven whenever I do...”
Your only response is a vowel, your hand holding onto Suguru’s for dear life as he returns to eat out with such devotion it almost brings tears to your eyes. You pant softly, his wet tongue making you weep between your legs and he gathers your essence and swallows it to parch his craving. You whine feeling the snap of your underwear pinch into your skin when Suguru lets go of the material to mold his palm over the slope of your pelvis. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, his tongue sinking between your wet folds, lips suckling on the petals of your cunt. 
Your hips arch off the sofa, desperate for friction, but Suguru pins you firmly back down. 
“Easy, easy…” he appeases, “don’t cum just yet. Hold off f’me, just for a little bit…” 
He’s never asked because there was never a reason to. For the most part, he was always there to service you. Allowed you to use his body to get you off as many times as you so desired. 
Your voice breaks, “okay,” you answer, drawing out a long exhale when he dives back in. 
The hand on your pelvis climbs up the steps of your ribs, reaching for band of your bra right at the middle. He curls his finger over the boning, and tugs the material allowing your breasts to spill free. He finds the bud of your nipple and tweaks it between his finger, pinching and pulling the aching nub until your writhing beneath him. 
He slurps and sucks, while you moan and whimper, forcing yourself to hold off for as much as your can but you find that it’s far harder to do when your lower belly quakes as it sits on the brink of release. 
“Suguru, Suguru…” you beg, reaching your free hand to your breast and clenching over his fingers. “Suguru, I can’t-m’gonna cum if you don’t stop…” 
He groans against your cunt, pulling away from your pulsing core and letting go of your hand to wipe the dampness off his chin. 
He licks his lips, drunk off lust and of how you taste. 
He keeps his body upright, drags your legs to secure them around his waist as he straightens your back. His hands unhook your bra from behind, the scent of you strong on his lips as he leans up for a kiss. Your hands fall to his shoulders, your belly fluttering as your sex begs for more stimulation. 
Suguru loosens the bra, allowing it to fall to your elbows before kneading your breasts - his thumb swipes back and forth over your nipples. He devours your cry, wolfs down every panting breath as he moans into the kiss. Your hands slip underneath his shirt, taking in the lines of strong abdomen.
“Take if off,” you plead between breaths, “Take it off, please…” 
Suguru listens, breaking apart from the kiss to toss his shirt to the side while you slip off your bra. Your lover’s hand finds your waist, his fingers pinching into the soft flesh. He leans forward to kiss the side of your neck, making a path down the curve and across the field of your décolletage. 
“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs into your breast, his lips snagging your nipple as his tongue rolls over the bud.
Your fingers curl around the back of his head, loosening his bun as you untie the knot. His hair falls like waterfall, the strands tickling your bare skin. Suguru’s hand slips between your legs, his middle and forefinger meeting your clit. You hiss at the contact, sinking your teeth between your bottom lip when Suguru sucks on your breast while simultaneously drawing circles on the bundle of nerves between your legs. 
Your breath grows heavier, your hips bucking into him from the sensation of his touch. 
“Feels good,” you mumble, “feels so good with you…”   
He shivers, relieving your breast as his lips search for your own. 
He adds more pressure between your legs, increasing the speed while your tongues dance. When your thighs noticeably quiver he slows down, pinching your clit between his fingers as he softly pecks your cheek. 
“The condoms are in my room…” 
Your sharp nails scratch the back of his neck lightly, “I have one in my purse.” 
Suguru nods feverishly, reaching back to the coffee table and rummaging through your purse. He picks out the shiny wrapper, and stands up to take off his shorts. 
“Wait, can I?” You request, gazing up at him with glittering eyes. 
Suguru swallows hard, and nods his head. 
Your eyes dilate rolling his shorts down, focusing on the tent in the fabric and watching his cock spring free and lightly smack his lower belly. Suguru brings the condom to his lips and rips it open with his teeth, but his eyes flutter when your perfectly manicured hands glide up the length of his shaft. 
You trace the prominent vein, your thumb swiping over the pre-cum beading over  the angry tip. You lick your lips, leaning closer to kiss the base and listening to Suguru sigh. 
You’ve only given him a blow job once before, and that was because you asked if you could. Suguru sets no expectations for himself when it comes to work, but that doesn’t mean that you haven’t fantasized about giving him head countless times. 
You wrap your fingers around his length and stroke mildly, your lips fanning over  his cock before reaching the tip. 
“Sweetheart, don’t-” Suguru murmurs in an attempt to stop you, but you’re already enclosing your lips around the head and pressing your tongue over the slit. 
His head falls back as you suck, a curse leaving him. 
You move slowly at first, dragging your tongue back and forth as you stroke the base. Sukuna was far rougher with you when you went down on him, but Suguru is allowing you to take him at your own pace. Inch by inch, until you were bobbing your head back and forth, strings of saliva webbing off his cock and sticking your lips. 
He thrusts once, not rough enough to hurt but the jerk catches you by surprise. 
You carefully release him, mindlessly wiping your bottom lip and the sight makes his cock twitch. 
Suguru pulls the condom out, and rolls it over his shaft. 
He settles onto the empty seta by your side, and you crawl over the expanse of his gorgeous, chiseled body to kiss him once again. 
His circles his fingers around his cock, his other hand guiding your hip as he aligns the tip to your entrance. Your nail nicks his pec when he pushes against the hole, your mouth circling over his own as you lower down his shaft. 
He fills you up so, so good. Makes your body vibrate with unshakeable desire. 
He groans until he bottoms out , the hand on your hip dipping down from your pubis to your lower belly like he’s trying to outline how deep he actually is before returning it back in place and securing his other hand on the opposite hip. 
Your breasts flatten against his chest, your hands holding on to his strong shoulders for support as you roll our hips.
Suguru works in tandem with your rhythm to fuck you passionately. 
His lips find yours once again for a final kiss, before the two of you get caught up in the moment when he swiftly picks up the pace. 
His hips arch violently, while yours sink - your bodies moving silk. 
“Unghh, oh god, yes-yes-yes~” you moan. 
Suguru’s grip almost feels painful, you know for a fact that he’ll be marking your hips with a few bruises. “Gonna cum-” he rasps, “s-shit, I’m fucking close-fucking close-” 
Your pussy tightens, practically holds his dick in a death grip that makes release a broken moan. His cock contracts upon his release, the sensation bringing you to the edge of yours as the muscles in your lower belly and inner thighs spasm around him. You leave crescents on his skin, your bodies shaking as you both take a second to breathe coming down from your climax. 
You collapse into him, his arms circling behind you, with his racing heart pulsing into your own. He moves so you’re laying side by side, your body sandwiched between him and the couch since he takes up most of the room. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling him grow soft inside you.
Your stuttering breath finally finds a resting poin when he brings your hand and holds it against his heart. 
“Where do we go from here?” You whisper with a kiss to his neck. 
“Whatever you decide, we’ll figure out.” Suguru answers sincerely. 
“I can’t marry Naoya,” you admit out loud, shocked for actually saying it for the very first time. “And I can't share you with anyone else - it already kills me having to do so.” 
Suguru looks down at you, a reassuring smile resting on his lips. “There won’t be anyone else.” 
“I can't just...leave. I can't just drop everything and walking away. It isn’t going to be easy-” you add on, “It’ll take me some time.” 
“I can wait” 
“It might get messy…” 
“When is it ever not?” 
“But we’ve never been in a relationship-” you insist, logic breaking through the barrier of your happiness. “How do we know if this will even work out properly? What if this thing between us fades?” 
“I guess we’re both taking a gamble here…” 
You both stare into the other’s eyes. 
“Do you think it’s worth the risk?” You ask. 
Suguru’s face softens but he leans forward to kiss your forehead. 
“I think it’s worth a try.” 
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
TWO YEARS LATER
“You running out on Naoya on your wedding night is still the hot topic.” Kento explains over the phone, “People kept bringing it up, and for whatever reason they just can't seem to get over it.” 
The guilt in your stomach twists into a very small knot, over time the size of it has shrunk to a point where you not longer carry any remorse regarding your scheming behavior. 
You had a plan, and the plan worked. 
"Let's not forget who was there to help..." you contend, disregarding the negativity surrounding your decision.
After you and Suguru spoke, you decided to carry on the facade, agreeing to the engagement and soon after the wedding with Naoya Zen'in. All the while you and Suguru were busy planning your way to cut and run. He cashed in your unsigned checks, and you pilfered a decent amount of the wedding budget which you kept into a seperate savings account.
You played the role as obedient daughter well, and no one was the wiser. 
“Besides, I maintain that it's still the best decision I ever made,” you reply, stepping out of your room and into the kitchen where you are greeted by the sound of clinking dishes.  
Your eyes shift to Suguru - his hair far longer now, flowing beautifully down his back, the front layers tied into a small bun. You smell dinner in the air, and your stomach grumbles with anticipation. 
Nanami doesn't reply, but you can hear that he's distracted from the television in the background. 
“What are you watching?” you ask your friend. 
The man simply sighs. 
“Nothing.” 
“Doesn’t sound like nothing with that reaction. Is it Satoru’s new drama show?” 
At the mention of his best friend you notice your lover glance over his shoulder, quietly tilting his head to direct you towards him. You smile his way, your feet pattering against the hardwood floor as you move closer to him. He bundles one arm around your shoulder, keeping you close while continuing to sauté the vegetables in the pan. 
He kisses the top of your head. 
“It’s all the rage,” you add on to your phone call, “Suguru and I plan on watching the next episode tonight.” 
Kento remains quiet. 
You release yourself from Suguru’s grasp, and instead hop onto the kitchen counter right next to him.
He reduces the heat and picks up the lid before covering the pan. 
“I’m guessing you two haven’t-” 
“No,” Kento curtly replies. “Not since that night…” 
“I’m sorry” 
“Don’t be,” he responds with frustration. “I screwed it up” 
“You know I could just ask Sugu too reach out-” 
“ Don’t,” Kento sighs regrettably. “It doesn’t matter. I heard he’s moved on” 
You quirk your brow, your eyes shifting to Suguru who was back to chopping some fresh herbs. 
“Oh?” 
“It’s for the best I guess,” Kento reassures. “He should be happy with whoever-the-fuck he chooses.” 
“You deserve happiness too, Kento.” 
“You can be happy for the both of us,” he replies, gulping down a drink. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m meeting my lawyer for dinner.” 
“When are you going to visit us next?” 
“Probably around November, December. I just need a few things to ease up on my end-” 
You bite your bottom lip, “I look forward to it.” 
“Take care, love” 
“You too, Ken.” 
You hang up the phone and lean your head against the cupboard as you watch Suguru rinse his hand, a trail of crimson spiraling down the faucet.  
“I cut my finger” 
You pick up a clean towel by your side, and gesture him towards you. 
Suguru extends his thumb out, and you curl the fabric over to keep pressure on the small cut. 
“You ought to be careful” 
“Your legs are a distraction,” 
You stare up at him playfully, and he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips. 
“How’s Nanami?” 
Your lover is indebted to your friend. If it wasn’t for Nanami, the two of you wouldn’t have been able to set up this comfortably. He’s the one who found you the humble two-story abode in Hokkaido, and was also the person who set up your personal bank accounts while ensuring that you would both have a safe and quick getaway on the night of your almost-wedding. 
“Fine, I think-” you reply, before removing the towel to check the damage. Thankfully, it wasn't anything serious. A little deeper than a paper cut.“Licking his wounds over a broken heart, but fine.” 
Suguru reaches for the drawer next to you, and pulls out the emergency band aids. You reach for the box in his hand, taking out one and removing the plaster from the back. You secure it around his cut, and Suguru holds your fingers between his. 
He arches down to kiss your brow. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 
“You’re welcome, handsome” 
“Dinner will be ready in a few if you want to set the table” 
You nod your head in acknowledgement, and drop down onto the ground before proceeding with your task.
You set the place mats down, a bowl for the soup and another for the rice and cooked vegetables. Your finger traces the rim of the one in front of your seat, a tiny chip from when you accidentally dropped it in the sink while cleaning it a few weeks ago. 
Fragments of these blemishes are all around you - making you almost forget that you once lived in a perfect, curated bubble. But you would take these flaws over everything else. These markings may be worn, but they are a reminder of the home you've been building.
A home that is entirely yours. 
“Baby, you want a drink?” Suguru calls from the kitchen. 
“Melon soda, please” you reply, placing the bowl down. 
“We’re out, I’ve got to pick some up tomorrow.” 
“What are you having?” 
“A beer,” he chuckles, and it sends a tremor of joy between the valves of your heart. 
“I’ll share yours” 
Suguru pulls out the bottle, cracking the cap off as he pops it using the side of the kitchen counter to do so. 
You two meet each other halfway in the space that you've been nesting in. Suguru’s eyes never leave yours when he takes the first sip, and once done he passes the chilled bottle towards you.
“Am I ever going to have you back in the kitchen helping me with dinner?” 
You shake your head no, and bite at the lip of the bottle before taking a sip. “I thought we agreed I was a hazard after the raw chicken fiasco and the almost-fire debacle…” 
He laughs, “no, you agreed. I said it wasn’t a big deal” 
“You just said that because you love me,” you respond, pressing the bottle into his chest as he takes it from your hand. 
“That goes without saying…” he answers, slinging his arm around your waist and pulling you into his frame. 
You lift yourself up on your toes, and kiss his nose. 
“Do you think it’s worth the risk of me attempting to cook for you again?” You whisper against his lips. 
Suguru smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as he leans forward to seal his reply with a  kiss. 
“I think it’s worth the try” 
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
tag list: @rottiens @an-ever-angry-bi @mononijikayu @brownskinnedgirll
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lale-txt · 10 months
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❉ painting your nails for you ↳ w/ Gojo, Geto, Sukuna & Naoya
a/n: reader is gn! inspired by nothing but me being very tired of doing my own nails (。T ω T。)
word count: 1k
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❦ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
for someone who is naturally good at everything he tries, Gojo’s brows are deeply furrowed as he concentrates on the task in front of him: you, your hand resting on his knee, the open nail polish bottle between Gojo’s fingers
you baited him with something sweet in return for this favor (though you both know he would have done it without it, too. he’d do anything for you.)
Gojo will ramble nonstop to you while he paints your nails; stories about his students, or how he pranked poor Nanami once again, or that crepe shop he really wants to try out with you soon
he’s really just glad to spend time with you and doing something for you, knowing it’ll bring a smile to your face and make you think about him
every now and then he’ll look up from your hands in his, bright blue eyes catching your attention, silently begging for a smile or some praise from your pretty lips (he’ll take a kiss without hesitation, too)
the paint is a little messy, some spilled color on his fingertips too, but he did a pretty good job for his first attempt and he’s proud of himself and hopes you are, too
“you know, you could have just said that you wanted an excuse to hold hands,” he teases but he’s not complaining, not when your hand fit so perfectly in his
you gotta paint his nails in return too though, because it’ll look cute in the photos you’ll take together on your next ice cream date
❦ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
if gracefulness was a person, it would be embodied by Geto 
the way he tucks the loose strand of hair behind his ear before he leans over the table where your hand rests, the slight curve of his lips when he smiles at you, the warmth oozing from his fingertips when he touches your hand
“that color is my favorite one on you,” he says in quiet admiration, knowing he was the one who picked it out for you a little while ago 
Geto paints your nails with a love for detail, taking his sweet time because it means he gets to spend precious minutes of your day together 
“actually, i think you should come sit here,” he smiles once he’s done with one hand and pats his lap, waiting till you sit down comfortably with your back resting against his broad frame 
a few kisses on the side of your neck before he rests his chin on your shoulder, now focusing his attention to your other hand to carefully paint your nails 
you feel the soft chuckles in his chest when he notices the slight raise of your heart rate from being this close to him
how awful that you’re gonna have to stay in his lap for plenty of time until your nail polish dries up, and even after that he’ll apply one or two layers of top coat “just to be sure”, a foul excuse to forget the world outside for a little while when he has everything he needs right here in his arms
❦ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
four arms and hands to help you with, how efficient!
Sukuna merely raises an eyebrow when you ask him for help, knowing you’re perfectly capable of painting your nails yourself, but he certainly enjoys the feeling of you being in need of him
he’s painting your nails black to match his, no questions asked
“so fucking tiny,” he mumbles under his breath while taking your hand in his to keep it still and steady, his thumb running over the back of your hand
Sukuna is very focused on his task, you can easily tell by the pink of his tongue poking out from between his lips; both on his face and on his tummy
he’s the King of Curses, of course he has to make sure your nails are painted perfectly, his S/O can’t look any less dapper than him. now that he thinks about it, he’s gonna let Uraume tailor you some new clothes too that go along well with his
once Sukuna is done, he keeps your hands in his for a little longer, under the excuse of making sure the nail polish is dried properly so you don’t smudge it
he doesn’t release your hands before kissing the tips of your fingers gently while gazing deep in your eyes, maybe nibbling on them a little too, murmuring something about how he’s gonna keep you around forever and ever
❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀
asking Naoya for help with a mundane task like painting your nails is such a big boost for his ego, because of course no one is more suited for this than him, he’s the best after all
he basks in the feeling of being needed and will use every opportunity to bring this up again whenever you do something you could have asked him instead 
Naoya will flip through your nail polish collection until he finds a color that he thinks suits you best, doesn’t matter if you agree with him or not
still, he is surprisingly gentle when you sit down together and he takes your hand in his, mustering it with intent–he’s not revealing what kind of intent though
Naoya’s own hands are warm and soft, there are no calluses or bruises; they are the hands of someone who usually lets others work for him
so him sitting down with you, painting your nails for you–it’s special
someone who draws an effortless eyeliner like Naoya does also has no trouble in painting your nails evenly without spilling anything
he won’t say it out loud, but he does enjoy the way you’re sitting so close to him, watching every move of him and holding still so obediently
Naoya doesn’t work for free, so you will have to kiss him and praise him after every nail he painted to keep him satisfied and motivated
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risuola · 5 months
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ENTRY #3 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // In the oceans so full, all I crave is blue.
contents: arranged marriage!au, slight misogyny — wc. 938
a/n: you voted, I deliver - an entry that might seem slightly out of place, slightly not relevant but it's important to the story, it shows the slow development.
series masterlist
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“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
You sat on an armchair, somewhat tensed despite the comfort of your own home and the soft cushions below you. In front of you sat a man. An arrogant grin plastered onto his objectively handsome features that somehow made you cringe at the sight. His mouth moved, he was speaking, over and over again telling the same story from a different angle and throwing facts at you that didn’t quite make sense, no matter how many times they were replayed.
“It’s an offer,” he spoke again, his pearly white, perfectly straight teeth glimmered in the sharp sunlight that bounced off the glass in the frame containing your wedding picture. “There’s a prestige tied to it, a status much more influential than your current last name could ever provide. I understand Gojo Satoru’s high position in the world of sorcery, but realistically, it doesn’t benefit you the way it should.”
He was talking, confident and loud but you couldn’t help but find him slightly sociopathic. Severely narcissistic. His sharp brown eyes were piercing through you and you could tell that every spasm of his muscles was forced, creating a fake illusion of some twisted version of kindness and gentleness. He moved in a way to appear more approachable, more inviting. You were taking in his form, clad in traditional kimono and hakama bottoms, oddly contrasting with his bleached hair and pierced ears. Thing is, there was nothing inviting about him.
“My marriage is an arrangement made with the thought of the best interest for both mine and my husband’s clan.” Your words flew out of your mouth a little too rough and yet, it was the first time you put a heavy accent onto the word that described who Satoru was to you right now.
“Of course it was,” the man chuckled. Evil. “But you see, Satoru Gojo is an anomaly born for the first time in four hundred years. Probability of you bearing a child that would bring value to his, arguably extinct, clan is relatively low, if not zero. On the other hand, my technique is easily passed down in blood and strong as it is, even without considering the possible Ten Shadows awakening though I believe that the input of your cursed technique makes the chances that much higher.”
“Forgive me my bluntness, Zen’in, but my marriage is finalized and I don’t intend to–“
“You don’t understand, woman,” he snapped, harsh and rough and raised up to his feet a little too eagerly. Realizing that, he took a breath and walked towards the wooden dresser. His greedy hands snatched the picture framed in the constellation of intricate veins and leaves carved into the dark oak and his fingers run across the glass front. “There’s nothing better you can do, than marrying me, one and only rightful heir of the Zen’in clan. Me, Naoya Zen’in, a man above all those weaklings around. I’m a prodigy, a genius. I’m the stronges–“
“I dare to disagree,” you cut the reckless spurt of nonsense leaving his lips. “I do recognize your strength and the values you represent, but as I already told you. My marriage is finalized, I’m married to Satoru Gojo and, with all due respect, you’re not close to being the strongest.” You stood your ground, firmly and with confidence and as you approached the man, you gently took the picture from his hands. “And also, even if I were not tied to Satoru, I wouldn’t allow myself to ever cross paths with a buffoon such as you, Naoya.”
“Clearly, you don’t know your place, do you?” He groaned, lowly and animalistically and it was a split second before his long fingers dug into the fat of your cheeks as he grabbed you by the face. “You know where’s a place of a woman? Three steps behind her husband. On her knees, ready to serve. There’s no other purpose for you than to–“
“I’ll advise you to take your hands off my wife, Zen’in.” Another second and your husband was home, right next to you, appearing out of thin air. His large hand wrapped tightly around Naoya’s forearm and their eyes meeting in a challenge. Despite the ice-cold tension in the air, Gojo’s face was neutral, amused almost. The corner of his lips twitched, lifting up just slightly as his unwavering gaze slowly pierced a crack into the arrogant mask of the guest.
“We’re just talking,” he hissed through his teeth but allowed his fingers to relax, releasing your jaw.
“Actually, it seemed as if you were leaving already,” you added calmly and it didn’t take longer than two minutes until the doors closed and the blonde left, mumbling insults under his breath. You exhaled, deeply, allowing the tension to leave your body as you twisted the locks and it’s just at that moment when you realized how much relief and sense of safety your husband brought.
“Care to explain why was Naoya Zen’in in our house when I was out? I don’t remember that visit being scheduled.” Satoru questioned and you let out a sigh, approaching him. With gentle hands you reached up to where the blindfold hung loosely around his neck and carefully pulled it up to cover the blue of his eyes.
“I’d love to know more than you do, but I don’t,” you replied. “He came uninvited, offered me marriage and didn’t take rejection too well.”
“Offered you marriage?” He scoffed. “The audacity.”
“Doesn’t matter. I said no and he left. Thank you for showing up.”
“I’m fulfilling my duties. That’s all.”
“Of course, you are.”
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taglist: @kinny-away, @anan-baban, @lotomber, @netflix-imagines, @kawliflo, @nishloves, @ghostfacefricker6969, @thejujvtsupost, @yozora7154, @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost
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augustinewrites · 1 year
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you should absolutely add naoya to the story!!!! i would LOVE some drama between gojo and that loserrrr i just know they hate each other so MUCH
useful context for this fic can be found in three conditions!
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"'salt to taste,'" satoru reads, already confused. "what the hell does that even mean?"
tuesdays are always his day to cook dinner - meaning the second you smell something burning, you kick him out of the kitchen to take over - but you'd left about left twenty minutes ago to pick the kids up from karate, so he's on his own.
shrugging, he pours a questionable amount of salt into the bowl of vegetables he's been attempting to season.
after tossing in the rest of the spices, the next step is to cook over medium-high heat. so he flicks the stove on, leaning against the counter as he waits for the pan to heat up.
that's when a knock sounds at the door.
he doesn't move, hoping whoever it is just gives up and goes away. he wasn't expecting any guests, and the backup food he'd ordered shouldn't be arriving for another half hour.
but whoever it is bangs on the door this time, clearly impatient and wanting to get on his nerves.
huffing, he flicks the stove off and stomps to the door, yanking it open.
"you've gotta be fucking kidding me."
"still as uncouth as ever, i see," naoya zenin scoffs, rolling his eyes.
"and you're still as ugly as i remember," he fires back. "no wait— uglier."
that gets the reaction satoru's hoping for, naoya scowling as he says. "seems the rumours are true. my dear relative's run away to become a gojo whore."
satoru barely manages to keep his hands off the blond's throat, because killing him would start an all out war with the zen'ins, and he isn't ready to make waves (yet).
it wouldn't take much force to just put his head through the wall, would it?
"just tell me what you want so i can say no," he says instead, voice fighting to remain steady.
god, he hates the smug look on his face as he asks, "how much do you want?"
"excuse me?"
"how much do you want," he repeats slowly, as if he were talking to a particularly stupid animal. "for her. and the fushiguro boy."
it takes satoru a moment to realize what exactly he's asking for, the request so outlandish that he can hardly believe it. "how much do i— you're insane."
he goes to slam the door, but naoya is quick to catch it.
"it's only right that they should be with their family, don't you think?"
"and that's you?"
"if we're being sentimental about it, yes."
"well, they're not for sale," he says firmly, removing his sunglasses and tucking them into his pocket. every molecule of restraint is quickly leaving his body. "nor will they ever be. now leave."
stupid as he is, naoya senses the thinly veiled threat and turns on his heel, satoru keeping his eyes trained on him until he disappears down the hall.
_____
"naoya stopped by."
"what did he want?" you ask, lips already pulled down into a frown as you take another dish to dry.
"you and megumi."
"of course he does," you sigh, setting the plate aside and resting your palms on the counter "they want ten shadows."
"what are we going to do?" he asks seriously. "what if next time they don't ask?"
"there's not much we can do right now," you tell him grimly. "it’s the zen’in clan, satoru. we just need to keep our heads down and focus on getting megumi into jujutsu tech. at least he won't be so vulnerable with all of us around—”
“hey, hey,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. “i’m not going to let anything happen to you both. you know that, right?”
“i know,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose. “that’s why i’m not suggesting we’ve halfway across the world.”
“that’s not a bad idea. we could move somewhere hot and tropical. i’d get to see you in a swimsuit almost everyday…”
“you’d get sunburnt,” you correct, laughing as he nudges his face into the crook of your neck.
“i’d happily let myself get sunburnt if it meant you were safe,” he murmurs into your skin. “the kids would probably eviscerate me if i let anything happen to you.”
“of course they would. they’d starve otherwise.”
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stsgluver · 9 months
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synopsis. zenin naoya and his lack of respect for women. [part of the dynasty series]
wc. 970
tags/warnings. rich boy!gojo, idk what else, zenin naoya exists, established relationship
a/n. i switch between present and past (like five mins prior) throughout BUT IF IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE PLS LET ME KNOW. this has been sat in drafts for 2 months.
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“i wouldn’t have stopped you from punching him.”
gojo scoffed, pushing his hands through his hair frustratedly. the two of you sat together on the cold stone steps outside of some large historic building. 
“i don’t think i would’ve stopped,” he let out a ragged breath and you rested one of your hands on his knee. his fingers naturally came to intertwine with yours and you think you saw his shoulders relax ever so slightly at the contact.
a silence settled between you, but it wasn't an awkward one. your boyfriend was reliving the last hour and you were doing your best to try and forget it.
“is he always like that?” you asked quietly. the he in question being zen’in naoya. 
this was the first event that you had attended with gojo, and the first event gojo had ever attended with an actual date. he’d always turned down all of the girls his father offered to him (the children of other tech ceo’s that his father was encouraging him to get close to only for the benefit of his own bank account) and he’d never had a real girlfriend to bring prior to you.
“unfortunately,” he hummed quietly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles lightly. you shivered from the cool breeze and dared to shuffle closer to him. 
you’d experienced many sides of gojo since you’d begun your relationship, but never had you seen him so irritated that he couldn’t verbally communicate it. he was the one who annoyed people to the brink of insanity, with his cocky remarks and over-the-top, excitable behaviour. few people had ever tried to one up him, and even fewer were successful in managing to get under his skin.
zenin naoya, though, loved the challenge.
“do you think your dad will mind if we’re out here?” you asked tentatively. gojo’s hand reflexively tightened briefly around yours at the mention of his father, his jaw clenching. 
several minutes after gojo had led you inside the elegant infrastructure (to say you were getting imposter syndrome was an understatement), he’d left you by a confectionery stand in search of geto. according to him, you looked ‘too pretty’ and he didn’t want your dress to be ruined in the crowds. in other words, the less you mingled, the less likely you’d be harassed by his father’s rich peers ��� he’d already ‘accidentally’ knocked one drink over onto a woman who dared to hiss the word ‘gold digger’ under her breath as you passed.
it had to have been less than thirty seconds before the zenin appeared by your side, a sickening smirk on his twisted face. you knew who he was, you’d seen him once or twice around campus and you’d heard the stories, but you’d never been this close to him; not close enough to breath in the expensive cologne that smellt cheap.
“probably,” he clicked his tongue, tilting his head back to look up at the night sky.  “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have brought you here.”
you nudged his shoulder gently, “i wanted to come.”
a mistake on both of your behalf – though neither of you could have predicted that naoya would try and make a scene when you rejected his advances.
"you two alright?" 
both of you turned your heads back to see geto coming down the stairs towards you with a little skip in his step.
once naoya had your attention he wasted no time getting to his point – bigging up his status and telling you how gojo’s dad was doubting gojo’s position in the company. if you wanted a real man, in his words, you needed him. 
obviously, you’d given him a disgusted look without much thought and denied the offer, taking a step back to try and find your tall, white haired boyfriend in the crowd (an oddly difficult task). you figured you were safer weaving through a crowd of high society snobs than you were spending another minute here. naoya, though, was persistent and didn’t hesitate to pull you back towards him with a harsh grip.
"just trying not to bash that zen'in's skull in," gojo muttered as he gently traced the red marks on your wrist. it looked worse than it felt – the pain had dissipated pretty quickly once you’d broken from naoya’s hold.
"i could get on board with that," the dark haired male dropped down next to you on the stairs, stretching out his legs and smoothing down his pants.
"geto.” 
you figured out pretty quickly that gojo and geto were a package deal. best friends since diapers and equally as resentful to their parents’ ways of life and the pretence they’ve been raised in. two sides of the same coin, both of which willing to go extraordinary lengths for the other with no regard for consequences.
such as the jail time that would come with the aggravated assault of naoya.
though you would give it to geto – when gojo and him got to you and naoya, it was him who was ushering gojo to just take you outside, not to engage with the spoiled man child. 
“geto,” geto mocked you with a grin, shrugging carelessly, "the kid’s an ass. he’s got it coming."
there was no more than a second until geto spoke up again, with an idea you were sure he’d had from the beginning of the night, his plans had just been accelerated: “shoko’s house is free now. her parents are away so she wasn’t forced to attend this bullshit,”
gojo’s head perked up at this, looking above your head at his best friend, “you think she’ll have the stuff for a smoke?”
“it’s ieiri,” you said in a ‘duh’ tone because when was she not smoking something. how she was top of her classes, you’d never know.
“god bless that girl,” geto blew a kiss to the sky.
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taglist. @hyori2 @ja-zz @animeflower26 @jar-03
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jeankluv · 29 days
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Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 18
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summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as " hate " was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths. Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.
tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug
warning for this chapter: +18 nsfw content, p in v, ridding
notes: it’s been a while since I posted this fic, but I was on vacation and right now, I’m stuck writing chapter 19, like I already have Birdie planned out but chapter 19 is like stuck there and I don’t know when I will be posting the next chapter, I hope that in two weeks time. So let’s pray
Sorry if there are any mistakes or typos, this was published unedited
materialist | previous chapter | next chapter
Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3
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You clung to the blanket that Satoru had given you after changing into one of his shirts, no matter how hard you tried you were unable to stop shivering.
But your pulse and breathing were agitated after the encounter with Naoya. You clenched your fists and cursed yourself for letting it get to you so much.
“Here you have.” Satoru entered the room with a cup of chocolate in his hands. 
You smiled and grabbed it, feeling the smell of chocolate and the warmth of the cup. “Thank you ‘Toru.”
He sat down next to you on the bed and put an arm around your shoulder, while gently caressing your arm. “Do you want to talk now about what happened?”
You took a deep breath, feeling Satoru's presence and comfort with you, and you began to tell the story of what happened.
2 hours earlier 
You took the wine Utahime gave you and drank it. The taste of the wine went down your throat and you felt a sweet taste run through your mouth. Your lips became slightly sticky and you ran your tongue over them. Utahime was drinking her wine and your eyes drifted to search for Satoru’s figure, hoping he would come soon.
You didn’t mind spending time with Utahime, but your heart ached thinking Satoru needed to face his parents on his own once again. You wanted to stand beside him.
“He will be here soon.” Utahime smiled. 
“Yeah… I just.” You sighed. “I wanted to be with him.” 
“I get it.” She nodded. “But now, relax and try this one.” She gave you another glass.
“Utahime.” You cried. “I think it is too much.” 
“It is not.” She smiled. “Take a sip, it’s really good.” She said drinking it. 
You did as she told and in fact it was good, it tasted really expensive. “It’s really good.” 
“Yeah right?” She grinned.
“Oh, there is no way.” A voice spoke and your eyes slowly opened.
Your hands started to sweat and your breathing started to be irregular.
“Ugh Naoya.” Utahime spoke. “What do you want? Go to another place and bother someone else.” 
Naoya laughed and the laughter, which was familiar to your discomfort, stabbed you like knives. “I’m here to say hi to my old worker.” You saw how a smiled crossed his face.
Utahime turned to look at you. “You know him?” 
“Yes…”
“Doll…” He walked towards you. “Last time we met your friends were pretty rude, but I know Utahime won’t do shit, so why don’t we speak?” 
Utahime ground her teeth and positioned herself next to you. “I don't know what the fuck you want, Naoya. But get out of here.”
“I just want to talk.” He said smirking. “Did you come as Utahime’s plus one?” He questioned. “That seems unlikely… oh.” He gasped. “Don’t tell me you came with the Gojo kid?” 
You frowned. “That doesn't matter to you.”
He laughed. “So yeah…” He scratched his chin. “Did you just jump on him like the bitch you are?”
You could feel the gazes of those present rest on you. Your breathing began to accelerate and unlike in class, where you had behaved calmly and had ignored what they said about you, you couldn't there. You felt enormous helplessness.
“Gojo probably needed somewhere warm to stick his…”
“Naoya! Shut up!” Utahime shouted out. 
Utahime's voice only caused the stares to grow and your nervousness to increase. You had wanted to go unnoticed, to go there to support Satoru, but now…
“What? It’s the truth… Rumors say that he likes to sleep around.” He smirked. ““He probably saw it as easy to get under the dress of a poor thing like her.” She took one of the glasses from her and took a sip. “Who would want to date a woman like her? Two jobs, scholarship, living in a one-room apartment, abandoned by her father, dead mother.”
“You stupid piece of…!” Utahime tried to slap him but you held her hand.
“Utahime… no.” 
You didn't want to cause any more fuss, you didn't want it to escalate any further. You squeezed Utahime's hand tightly, feeling like tears had begun to fall.
Why?
Why are you crying?
You weren’t the type to cry, you could hold yourself pretty well but right there, you were feeling every emotion possible. You were ashamed of what Naoya was saying, ashamed because everyone was looking and hearing those words. You didn’t want Satoru to have bigger burdens, he already had enough dealing with his family matters, you didn’t want now for him to be pointed out for dating someone like you. 
Without realizing, you started to shake, as if you were out in the cold of a winter night. Utahime quickly noticed it and stood next to you, trying to calm you. 
“Naoya you better leave or I will make sure they kick you out of here.” Utahime said loudly. 
Time began to distort around you and when your mind reconnected you felt a familiar warmth next to you, a relaxing caress and safe eyes.
Present time
“That’s it…” You whispered, waiting for Satoru to say something or do anything, but his silence was killing you. “I’m so sorry…”
“Why are you saying that?” Then he spoke with a harsher tone than the one he usually used, one that made you feel intimidated.
“I… I caused a fuss.” 
He moved in the bed and positioned himself in front of you. “Listen.” He said your name while holding your hands. “You didn’t cause a fuss, Naoya and Naoya alone did it, okay?” You looked at him. “Please love, tell me you understand.” He raised his hand to your cheek. 
Your stomach turned as you heard that word from his lips again, “love”. The way he had said it, on both occasions, made you lose all sense of the world and make you feel dizzy. God, you loved that man and you didn't want to let him go, you didn't want to lose him for anything in the world.
Satoru's eyes widened, panic showing in them. "What happened? Why are you crying?" He said, wiping away the tears that had wet your cheeks.
“I love you.” You said and you noticed Satoru’s surprise look on his face. “I love you ‘Toru and I am so afraid… I am afraid of losing what it’s starting, I don’t want to lose you, lose us.” You hugged him. “I was so afraid, because I don’t know your world and… everyone was looking and I thought… what if his family finds out about who I am about my family.” 
You stopped talking, to hug him even more, if that was even possible. “And I felt so small, so vulnerable. I didn’t want to cause a scene, I didn’t want to be a burden to you.”
Satoru broke the hug and cradled your face, he kissed your tears. "Don't say that." He told you in a whisper. “You would never be a burden to me.” He emphasized the words “never” and then placed a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you." He whispered. 
Satoru wrapped his arms around you while caressing your back and kissing your head, it felt good, very good. You would like to stay that way forever, to feel his warmth, his love, for all of it to invade you.
“You wanna take a bath?” He whispered.
“With bubbles?” You looked at him. 
Satoru chuckled and smiled. “If you want it that way, I will do it.”
“Thank you…” You kissed his lips. 
“Anything for you my love.” He kissed you. 
The cold caught you as soon as Satoru left you, even though you were wrapped in a blanket you felt his absence. You watched from the bed as Satoru prepared the bathroom, he was still wearing his suit pants and his white shirt. He looked so good. 
“I can feel you staring.” Satoru looked at you from over the shoulder. 
“I was just thinking that my boyfriend looks so good right now.” You said.
“Well my girlfriend looks better, she was stunning tonight, a real queen, a goddess.” He walked up to the bed and placed his arms on either side of your head. “The bath is ready…” He whispered against your lips.
 “Will you bathe with me?” You asked him. “I want to do it like in the movies, to cuddle and relax.”
“Of course.” 
You stood up from the bed and took off your clothes, you didn’t mind anymore. Satoru did the same, although you weren't embarrassed to strip naked in front of him because he had already seen and touched every part of you, it was still hard not to feel nervous when you looked at him. Turning your head, you walked to the bathtub and got into it, so that a few seconds later Satoru got in with you behind you.
He leaned down and his lips gently brushed against your shoulder before he began to rub your back. The touch was tender but deliberate, each stroke of the sponge carrying a silent intimacy that seemed to envelop you both. In the tranquility of that moment, the closeness between the two of you felt palpable, as if the outside world had become insignificant, as if it had been erased and only you and Satoru existed. You could feel the warmth of him against your skin, his soft breath against your neck.
You wanted that moment of intimacy to last forever. To keep it in your mind and in your soul. 
“Babe you are going to fall asleep.”
A new nickname, how many did he have to keep calling you? But now you didn't care, you liked them, every one of them from birdie to my love, all of them.
“It’s just… it feels so good.” You closed your eyes, letting everything invade you.
“I’m so glad…” He whispered against your skin. 
You could feel his hot breath against your wet skin, how your skin bristled under that warm breath. Satoru placed wet kisses on your shoulder, while he continued soaping your body, treating you like you were royalty, a queen.
“Okay… I think it is time for you to rest.” He moved behind you and got off the bath. 
“But…” You pouted.
“No buts.” He kissed your cheeks. “Let’s get ourselves dry and sleep okay?” 
That night you gave yourself completely, letting yourself be cared for and loved without reservation. Every word Satoru whispered and every soft touch of his fingers left a lasting imprint on your skin, etching itself into your heart and soul. 
The warmth of his body wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. It was an eerily familiar sensation, evoking memories of home, peace, and a deep sense of security.
The dream welcomed you like an old friend and in the arms of the one who had captivated your heart you managed to rest and let all worries go away.
When the first light of day began to filter through the large window of Satoru's room, your eyes stung, that light was annoying, you wanted to continue sleeping, dreaming of dreams that you would later forget. But as you turned to circle Satoru's torso, you found the cold sheets next to you. Your eyes snapped open and you looked around the room. But it was completely empty, there was no sign of him.
You got out of bed and walked to the kitchen in search of your white haired boy. A smile appeared on your lips when you saw him sitting in one of the seats on the island. He was wearing gray sweatpants, his torso was exposed and his hair was a mess.
With a slow step, trying not to let Satoru hear you, you approached him. When you were close enough to him, you wrapped your arms around him and let out a “bo!” causing him to get scared.
You smiled at him. “Good morning.” 
“Good morning.” He kissed you. “Did you sleep well?” 
“So good…” You closed your eyes, enjoying his hug. “You look good this morning.” You said looking at him.
“I know…” You rolled your eyes with a smile drawn on your face. “You liked this morning view princess?”
You bite your lip and nodded. “A lot.” 
You knocked your kiss together, feeling how this one was deeper and hotter than the one you just shared. 
Satoru ran his hands under your thighs and sat you down on the kitchen island, causing a small moan to escape your lips as the cold marble collided with your skin. He placed himself between your legs and began to draw drawings on your legs, while the kiss you shared was filled with passion and heat.
His hand began to go up until it got under the hem of the borrowed t-shirt that you had taken from him last night and his fingertips, hot like a burning fire, traced your abdomen, causing a soft but lustful sigh to escape from your lips.
“‘Toru…” You gasped as his hand started to go up on your body.
“What love don't you like it?” You saw his smirk, his blue eyes now dark with the desire that had settled in them.
Your head snapped back when you felt his fingers pinch your nipple. “Oh…”
Satoru grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, making you stick with your legs on either side of his body. Your body was beginning to burn under his touch, feeling how his hands began to explore your body.
“I love how good you look with this t-shirt on, but I need you without it.” He whispered against your ear, his soft, hot breath hitting you.
“Take it off…” You said under your breath.
Satoru clacked and he grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up, taking it off and throwing it away. The difference in temperature between the environment and your body, which was almost on fire, was evident, and a chill ran down your spine. 
Your fingers tangled in his white hair and he began to kiss your neck and then your collarbone, biting and sucking on the places where his lips landed causing your body to react. 
His right hand pinched your nipple again and you pulled at his hair, feeling the arousal corrupt you. His tongue began to descend along the edge of your breasts until it reached your nipple, which was already swollen from the pinches that Satoru had not stopped giving it.
Your legs surrounded his hips at the same time his mouth sucked on your nipple, you were too excited, too hot. Your hips began to move instinctively, seeking friction with Satoru. You knew he probably was hard rock down there.
“F-uck…” Satoru trembled when you touched his boner.
“Sa-toru… please.” You said moving your hips again against his boner. 
You could feel his grip tighten and his shoulders tense with every movement you made begging him. The atmosphere had become fucking hot, your bodies were burning and you had begun to sweat, while your hot breaths had become disordered.
Satoru pulled away from you and began to pull down his sweatpants. “Get off and turn around.” Your skin crawled as you heard his husky voice and the authoritative tone he had used.
That turned you on even more. You got down off the island and got off your underwear, leaving you completely naked. You felt Satoru's hands on your hips, as his thumb gently traced circles on it. Even though the atmosphere was charged with lust and excitement, Satoru was still delicate and careful with his movements. 
You felt his breath hit your skin and instinctively arched your back and neck back against his bare torso. “You seem so needy?” He bit your shoulder and you pursed your lips. “Come on little bird, what do you want?” You hated that he hesitated like that, you hated it but at the same time you loved it.
“Sato-ru…” You heavily breathed. “I… need you.” 
He chuckled and his grip around your hips tightened. “That’s what you want? Huh? You want me inside of you?” 
You nodded. “Please ‘Toru…” You looked at him with crystallized eyes and you could see how the fire lit in his. 
“You're so fucking beautiful.” He said, smashing his lips against yours at the same time he entered you. 
The moan in your throat was drowned in the wet kiss you shared. One of Satoru's hands left your hip and began to move up your abdomen, burning every place his fingertips touched. His hand came up to your chin and he grabbed it, breaking the kiss.
“You are taking me so well princess.” He smirked and your nails dug into the island counter, feeling him move inside you.
“Ah…” You moaned as Satoru's hand landed on your neck and made you throw your head back.
Satoru was rough and his movements were strong and penetrating, each thrust he gave felt like it went deeper than the previous one, causing your eyes to rotate inside your skull.
His left hand surrounded your neck, while his right hand rested on your lower abdomen. His mouth laid on your ear as he moaned and said your name softly. You bit your lip feeling each thrust, you wanted to be able to turn around and dig your nails into his skin, but you had to settle for being that way.
In the place only your gasps could be heard, mixed with the clash of your naked skin. 
You could feel how Satoru had grown more confident than the first night you spent together. You enjoyed that night, you couldn't deny it, Satoru had made you reach orgasm and he had made you feel like a queen but you had felt that he wasn't letting go completely, that he was holding back on you. But at that moment? Oh no, at that moment he was making you feel everything.
“Fuck baby!” He said deep inside of you. “I need to see your pretty face.” 
You protested when it came out of you, you wanted more, you wanted everything. Satoru grabbed your hips and turned you around, so that you were both face to face. His face was agitated, his hair on his forehead and cheeks were crimson red. 
Without letting you breathe for long, he grabbed your legs and put them on his hips and then entered again. You stifled a scream and buried your nose in his neck, it was the first time you were doing it in that position.
“C’mon babe, let me see your face.” He said as he moved his hips.
You looked at with tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. “Oh Satoru!” You tightened your grip on his shoulders as he moved in and out of you. “Fuck…”
“That’s my girl, taking me so well, doing that beautiful face.” He said biting your bottom lip and then kissing you. 
He came out of you again and you felt how you moved around the room and then sat on the couch. 
“Baby, do you know what I want you to do?” You looked at him through your tears and nodded.
You took his member in your hand and gently lined it up with your entrance and then let yourself fall into it. Your entire body reacted, with that position you felt bigger and deeper. Satoru raised his hands and began to massage your breasts, pinching your nipples while you moved your hips seeking orgasm.
Satoru’s face was red and his eyes were so dark, full of desire and pleasure, and completely focus on your chest as you were riding him. You grabbed his face and kissed him, in a burning kiss thirsty for pleasure, accelerating your movements even more.
“Fuck babe.” He mumbled. “I’m gonna cum…” He squeezed his eyes shut.
You let out a moan, you had come all over him and your entire body was vibrating and leaving you without energy. Satoru pulled out of you and took off the condom masturbating a bit more, cuming on your abdomen.
Neither of you moved, your chests rose and fell and you rested your body on his, closing your eyes and resting.
“You were…” You began. “So rough.” 
“You didn’t like it?” He said, and you were able to hear a hint of concern in his voice.
You shook your head. “I love it. You were rough but gentle.” You looked at him.
He sighed with relief and smiled. “I'm glad, I thought you didn't enjoy it.” He kissed your lips. 
“We're all sweaty…” You whispered against his lips. 
“Yes, we should shower.” You nodded. “Round two?” He asked. 
“Were you not satisfied?” You asked. 
“Oh yes I was, but I will always need more of you.” 
You couldn't help but laugh when Satoru started kissing and making ribs all over your body, so much so that you felt your belly hurt from laughing so much. After that you both took a shower and yes, there was one more round and in the afternoon you spent watching movies and to your surprise, Satoru was more emotional than you had thought, since you couldn't help but cry after watching La La Land. 
When the sky began to turn orange and pink, Satoru took you back home. He had insisted that you stay the night but you had no clothes, only the dress from the party and the giant sweatpants and t-shirt that he wore. Satoru had lent you. So at the door of Kyoko's house you said goodbye with a tender kiss, wishing to see each other again the next day.
As soon as you stepped inside the house Kyoko appeared and rushed to you with a huge smile drawn on her face.
“Who was it?” She asked. “Did you enjoy the night? You looked like an absolute princess.” She smiled. 
You bit your lip, remembering the night, you couldn't keep hiding the fact that you had seen Naoya and you couldn't pretend like nothing had happened either. Kyoko quickly noticed your look of circumstance and the smile on her face disappeared.
“Something happened right?” You nodded. “Okay let’s talk about it.”
“Yeah…” 
Kyoko took the dress from your hand and you both headed to her room, where you sat face to face.
“Did something happen with Satoru's family?” She asked first.
You shook your head. “Not at all… I only met his grandparents but they were nice.” You told her. “No… the thing is that I… I met Naoya there.” 
Kyoko looked at you, as if she was holding her breath.The more she looked at you, the more nervous you became, you felt every inch of your being speed up and your breathing become more and more erratic. You knew what she would say and you knew how she would react when she found out you had met at the club.
“Oh…” She finally said. “Did he do something?! Did he try something?”
You sighed. “He was his usual disgusting self.” You looked at her. “And he said some mean things, but… doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. If it affected you it does matter.” She held your hands.
“Utahime was there and then I talked about everything with Satoru, so it’s alright.” You smiled trying to calm her down.
“You are sure?” She questioned.
“I’m sure…” You looked at her. “There is something else, I never told you this but… I also met him at the club that time.” 
Kyoko opened her mouth. “What?!” 
“Kyoko, relax please.” You tried to calm her down. 
“No, no, you are telling me that asshole appeared there and… wait was when you got hurt on your wrist?” You avoided her gaze. “Was him?!” You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” 
“Because you were going to get worried and it was pointless, besides you were having a good night I didn’t want to ruin that for you.” 
She sighed, obviously mad. “I don’t understand why you would do that. I’m your best friend, if you get hurt I will obviously get mad and want to kill someone, especially that someone.” 
“Well… sorry okay?” You whispered. “But… I just…”
“Stop, don’t say it was nothing or that I didn’t deserve to be worried because that’s something I decide.” She looked at you. “Next time, I don’t care what it is, I don’t care, you must tell me. Alright?” 
You felt your eyes getting teary and nodded. “Yeah… I will.” 
Kyoko hugged you and you let yourself be enveloped by her essence and warmth, closing your eyes on her chest. You stood there in silence for a while and then resumed your casual conversation. Before you knew it, your conversation had gone on for longer than expected and you knew that tomorrow you would wake up with dark circles under your eyes.
That week you spent it between Kyoko's house and Satoru's. Your boyfriend insisted on picking you up from work and that you stay the night with him. You didn’t mind, you actually liked spending time with him, the quality time both of you were creating was comforting. 
But spending more time with Satoru didn't stop you from spending time with your friends, and you also found time to be with Kyoko and now your extended group, which also included Shoko and Utahime.
You couldn't wait for the weekend you would spend with Satoru in Kamakura, and show him the place where you were raised.
Your only hope for one thing, that made your heart feel in your mouth.
Everything needed to be okay, you just wanted that.
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notes: bit of nsfw content before the things that will happen in the future, hehehe
— comment if you want to be tagged
🏷️: @lavender-hvze , @crybabytoru , @sanriosatoru , @norvacaine , @sadmonke , @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic , @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun , @manyno , @ropickle , @anniegojo , @milk3evee , @crunchypotatoooooooooo , @catobsessedlady , @zoeyflower , @starlostwish , @tinydonkeysforlife , @mimisq11341 , @n1vi , @olanii1019 , @vtrulvamp , @yjuisu
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lilacxquartz · 2 months
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lilac’s bite sized jjk yandere nightmares masterlist
about: exploring darker yandere with short stories/8 chapters max fics—updated every monday with sometimes a break if a chapter/story needs more time.
tw: some of these works will be very intense, the generalised tag is dead dove, but the specific warnings will be listed in the work or chapter as it gets updated. links lead to ao3 as well as tumblr.
ao3 • main masterlist
blessed with blue • tumblr link
angel satoru gojo x mortal reader
to save a broken soul • tumblr link
suguru geto x cursed spirit reader
pretty little trinket
harpy shoko x human reader
beyond hellfire
true form sukuna x reader
haunted memories
kenjaku x vessel reader
limited edition doll
mahito x reader
frozen in time
mad scientist uraume x reader
symbiosis
(turning) zombie choso kamo x reader
entombed
yuki tsukumo x reader
damsel in distress
king kento nanami x peasant reader
in my web
monster utahime x adventurer reader
passenger princess
shiu kong x reader
the lies we tell
higuruma hiromi x reader
never let you go
ghoul naoya x widowed reader
too pretty to die
takuma ino x reader
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redtsundere-writes · 6 months
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Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen
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mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader
Part 7. Help Me To Help You
Beginning. ← Previous | Next →
Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Reader is a baddie. Warnings: MDNI. +18. Cursed words. I only read it once, lmao. Smut. Raw sex. Vaginal. Oral. Humiliation. Reader is dom. Sukuna is sub. Word count: 4149 words. A/N: We are finally in the middle of this story. Thanks for all the support and the comments! Hope you like this chapter.
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Less than 48 hours left until fight night. This time, the championship night would take place in Tokyo. It was always good to fight at home so we didn’t have to worry about traveling nor having jet lag. Sukuna and Naoya had gone through the judges and referees for the official weigh-in at the official UFC facility. Luckily, Naoya threw me a couple of flirtatious winks and didn't say a word during the brief encounter. If Sukuna found out that I betted my position as his coach, he would kill me without hesitation.
The band of the treadmill was moving under my feet. I couldn’t give up. The outcome of this fight rested on my attitude against the circumstances. My arms swayed with every step I took. I had to secure Sukuna's luck no matter what. I was losing my breath due to fatigue. Sukuna won the last fight against Toji Fushiguro thanks to me. My feet were moving on their own. Should I fuck him again?
“Hey!” Sukuna shouted in my ear, waking me up from my thoughts.
My feet stopped dead in their tracks on the treadmill, causing me to lose my balance and stumble. The band pushed me off the platform, sending me rolling to the ground. My head was spinning, so I lay down to recover. It's a lousy idea to get up suddenly after a serious fall, that's how you pass out. I knew it from experience.
“What the fuck is wrong with you today? You're acting weird lately,” Sukuna asked me, annoyed.
“Shut up,” I mumbled with a frown.
“Are you worried about the fight tomorrow?” he asked, irritated.
“Of course I'm worried! If you don't win tomorrow, I'll have to go back to the Zen’in’s!”, I thought, but I couldn't tell him that. I had gotten myself into this mess on my own, I was willing to get out of it alone and teach that jerk Naoya Zen’in a lesson.
“A little, but it will be alright. I trust your good luck ritual will work, by the way, do you have someone to fuck already?” I asked, trying not to sound too obvious.
“Keep your fucking voice down!” Sukuna scolded me between whispers, kneeling down next to me to look me at the eye. “Only Yuuji should know, but he opened his mouth and now you and Gojo know,” he whispered, after making sure no one around us was paying attention.
“Megumi knows about it too.”
“That nosy little shit,” he grumbled before desperately doing a facepalm.
I didn't think he was embarrassed by his lucky ritual. Yes, it was unconventional, but I didn't know it was a big open secret. Usually male athletes are not embarrassed about fucking multiple women, they even flex about it by bringing a different woman to their matches. I thought Sukuna would be like them, I was surprised he wasn’t.
“Get up now, you look stupid,” he said as he offered his hand to help me.
“Good thing I caught you resting, Sukuna,” Nanami announced his presence as he approached us. “Hey, weren't you supposed to leave 10 minutes ago?” he asked me directly. I looked at my watch, it was 2:10 pm. I had to leave soon if I wanted to get to my appointment on time.
“That's right! Thanks for reminding me,” I thanked Nanami before rushing to the lockers to change.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going? Tomorrow is fight night!” Sukuna shouted angrily as he grabbed my arm to stop me from running away.
“It’s going to help you win! I promise!” I exclaimed to get him to let me go.
“Are you going to let her go just like that?” Sukuna asked Nanami as if he was my dad.
“She asked to leave early a month ago, she told me it was important. It's in her rights as an employee,” Nanami explained calmly.
I abruptly let go of Sukuna, and he grumbled in contempt. He knew Nanami was right. If he didn't let me leave, I could file a complaint against him with HR. I assured him he would thank me later, and he death glared at me. That was so him.
At the lockers, I took off my stinky clothes from sweat training. I opened my gym bag and took out the denim skirt I had packed. The last time I wore a mini skirt was on my first date with Naoya, a special occasion. “I can't believe I'm going to wear this again,” I thought as I saw how short it was, it barely covered my butt. I had to wear it, this would be a special day too.
2 hours later on a train ride, I arrived at my not so exciting destination. The Golden Pot, a Chinese restaurant on the outskirts of Kyoto, known for having the best wonton soup in town. I never thought I would return to this place. It brought back bittersweet memories of my relationship with Naoya, as I had the best dates of my life with him here. It was amazing how the person I once grew to love more than myself became my #1 enemy.
Naoya has a less troublesome luck ritual than Sukuna. Before every fight, he must eat a bowl of wonton soup to secure his stomach and his victory. He always did this in the evenings after the official weigh-in. When he travels out of the country, he usually eats it before taking the plane. Since he was fighting in Tokyo, I knew he would be at the restaurant. I zipped up my Team Black jacket and walked confidently into the place.
The aroma of ginger and garlic permeated my nose as soon as I walked through the doors. Like any Chinese restaurant, the place was decorated with red lanterns hanging from the ceiling and golden dragons of good fortune among the long tables. The sound of sizzling dishes and the animated murmur of customers enjoying authentic Chinese food crept into my ears as I searched for the stupid blond with my eyes.
I spotted him at the table where he always used to sit. A table in a booth with red cushions and an intimate atmosphere. He was alone and undercover as if he were a spy, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses despite being indoors. I really didn't want to approach him, but I had to be brave. I had traveled all the way from Tokyo to confront him and put him out of his comfort zone, I couldn't afford to chicken out now.
“Is it good?” I greeted him reluctantly. Naoya looked up from his bowl and took off his glasses to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Taking his time to run down my bare legs, getting used to the idea that I was standing before him.
“Well, well… What brings you all the way to Kyoto?” He asked me with a smile.
“Since you came to visit me at the gym and my house, I thought it would be nice to visit you at your favorite place,” I replied as I sat down across from him.
“You are so cute,” he commented before eating a wonton.
A waitress came to our table quickly to take my order. She tried giving me a menu, but I already knew what I was going to order.
“I'm not going to stay long, I'll just have a wonton soup to go and an iced tea for here,” I asked.
“Are you in a hurry?” Naoya asked me, disappointed, once the waitress left.
“A little, I have to go back to Tokyo early to continue training Sukuna,” I answered.
“Do you care about him?” He asked me seriously.
“Of course I do, it's my job.”
“No, I mean, do you really care about him?” He corrected the question.
I frowned in response. It was true that Sukuna was on my mind 80% of the day, but that's because he is my job. I have to make sure he eats well, does the exercises correctly and is in his best mental state before every fight. I have seen him progress in the last four months that I have been training him, and I was proud of my work, but where was he going with that kind of question? Naoya sighed when he didn't get an answer.
“Do you like him?” he asked, confident that he knew the answer already.
“No,” I answered coldly, before he made up weird ideas in his head.
I couldn't imagine jumping from one idiot to another. Sukuna could be an amazing athlete, an extremely attractive man and a good protector, but he was still a traitor, a rude champion and someone who uses women to his advantage. We had grown up together these past few months, but I was not to be confused, he was still Sukuna Ryomen.
“This brings back so many memories. This is where we had our first kiss. We were so young and immature,” Naoya sighed as he imagined the scene.
“We are still young and immature, especially you. You still cling to the past and want to pull me with you,” I mumbled.
“What's wrong with wanting to take back what's mine?” he wondered, annoyed that I had broken his illusion.
“That I am not your property nor Zen’in’s,” I answered.
“We'll see about that tomorrow,” Naoya selfassured.
The waitress arrived with my order carefully wrapped in a plastic bag and the tea in the typical yellowish plastic cup of this kind of restaurant. I smiled as I saw the full glass in front of me, “This is what I came for,” I thought as I took a sip.
“You're right, let’s not argue now,” I thought out loud as I got up from my seat, ready to leave. “We'll see about that tomorrow,” I said with a confident smile.
I poured the iced tea over Naoya's half-eaten wonton soup. His eyes widened at the reckless act I was pulling. I was ruining his good luck ritual before his eyes. I slammed the glass down on the table in front of him to grab his attention back.
“You better not back off,” I threatened him in a low voice so that he was the only one listening to me.
“I hope you too, cutie,” he glared at me, this time he had stopped smiling to restrain himself from hitting a woman in a public place.
I left the place with my food and sighed relieved that the conversation had not escalated any further. I checked the time. It was almost 6 pm, I had to get to the train station if I wanted to make it to the next part of my plan on time.
SUKUNA POV
A sharp pain invaded my neck as I moved my shoulder again. A grunt of pain escaped from my lips as I moved it in circles as Shoko recommended. The hot water from the shower helped dull the pain. I should be embarrassed. I couldn't let such a superficial injury stop me. I had to give my 110% in tomorrow's fight as always. My honor and my title were on the line again. I shouldn't be worried though, no one knows that my shoulder is injured, and I have Y/n, who has been teaching me all of Naoya's moves. My chances of winning were still pretty high.
I let the hot water run over my body some more. I didn't want to get out of the shower, but I had to get ready to greet the prostitute I had hired in advance for tonight's ritual. I wrapped myself in my shower robe and went on to dry my hair, so I would have it ready for tomorrow. I was in my best possible shape, but aesthetics are also important for sponsors.
The doorbell echoed through the penthouse, letting me know that someone was waiting at the door. I frowned at the time. It was barely 8 o'clock, the hooker was supposed to arrive at 9. "Who the fuck is it this late?", I asked myself annoyed. I walked over to the door to see who it was.
It was a rather pleasant surprise to see Y/n through the peephole. She was waiting patiently outside the door with a plastic bag in her hands. I was going to open the door, but I saw her take off the team black gym jacket. My cheeks flushed slightly at the sight of her in something other than workout clothes. She was wearing the shortest denim skirt I had ever seen in my life and a pink shirt that allowed me to see her cleavage thanks to the height difference. I had seen her wear things that revealed her stunning body, but this was the first time I had seen something that made her look like a girl and not like someone who can kick my ass.
She started to lose her patience. She rang the doorbell again, bringing me back to reality. I was a weak man if just looking at her made me blush. “Fuck,” I thought, annoyed with myself, before opening the door.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I scolded her. “Who the fuck gave you my address?”
“What a nice way to greet your coach,” she joked, sarcastically. “Nanami gave me your address. I came all the way from Kyoto to bring you a good luck wonton soup,” she explained as she handed me the plastic bag.
As soon as she moved his jacket from one arm to the other, I noticed something about her outfit that I hadn't seen through the peephole before. It was a detail I shouldn't have minded in the least, but my eyes hyper-fixated on it anyway. The pink rim of her thong protruded above her skirt, gently draped over her hip. The fact that I even noticed it surprised me. I'd seen that on thousands of models at parties, why did it matter to me so much in Y/n? Had she done it on purpose? It was hard to tell, since I only know her in working hours. This was the first time we had met outside the work environment.
“Are you going to let me in?” she wondered.
“Did you really go all the way to Kyoto to bring me a measly wonton soup?” I asked as I inspected the contents. Y/n slapped my arm at the rejection of her gift.
“It's the best soup in the world!” she scolded me, offended. “Also, I went to ruin Naoya's lucky ritual,” she confessed, embarrassed.
“Are you fucking stupid!? That's why you left training early?!” I yelled in annoyance.
“Hey! You should be thankful that I'm taking every precaution to ensure my victory!” she finished off by raising her voice to reach my volume. She always has a stupid answer for everything.
“Your victory…” I tasted the phrase in my mouth. “Are you only doing this just for yourself?”
“My victory is that you remain as the champion,” she clarified.
“Well, you did what you had to do,” I told her, ready to close the door.
“You didn't answer the question I asked you earlier,” she reminded me, it was as if she didn't want the conversation to end.
“What are you talking about?” As soon as I blurted out the question, she blushed and avoided my gaze.
“Do you already have someone for your lucky ritual?” She asked, still avoiding my gaze.
“Yes, she's coming in an hour. You can go home now,” I said, tired of explaining myself to her. I tried to close the door, but she pulled her body into the penthouse to avoid it.
“Are you sure she will satisfy you?” She asked me, almost desperate.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I yelled, opening the door again. “You've been so weird since we made the strategy! Is there something you want to tell me?”
“I just want to make sure that your ritual goes well…” she whispered in embarrassment. That sounded like a damn lie.
“Y/n!” I scolded her. She was startled by the scream and then sighed in surrender.
She told me all about her history with Naoya in a low voice. From how they met to how he continues to stalk her to this day. She told me how she came to his house out of nowhere and betted on her freedom to get rid of him once and for all. “Are you such a dumb bitch?! How could you even think of doing that!” are things I wanted to scream at her until her ears bled from her stupidity, but I couldn't do it seeing her so emotionally drained. No wonder she was so desperate, this was the only way she had to be able to get rid of him. What a mess she was in.
“Help me out, Sukuna.” Her eyes begged me for mercy, I couldn't say “no” to that.
“Come in, it better be as good as in Dubai,” I threatened her as soon as I let her in.
“I will do my best,” she promised.
Despite being shorter than me by a head and looking so tender in that outfit that left almost nothing to the imagination, this little shit pushed me against the bed with all her might. In my own house! She had already seen me naked and knew how I behaved during sex. So it was easy for her to undo the knot of my shower gown and unwrap me as if my hard cock was her birthday gift. She didn't hesitate to take it all the way into her mouth. Each suck and lick felt desperate. I knew she wanted to make me come, so she could secure tomorrow's victory, but sometimes the idea of her being really desperate to have my cock inside her for lustful pleasure tickled my brain.
“You really want to impress me, don't you?” I asked her as I took off my robe completely.
I pushed her towards my crotch, hugging her by the shoulders with my leg to show her how flexible I had become since she had taught me floor techniques. The splashes coming from her wet lips, her eyes watering from having my monstrosity in her little mouth and her hands holding my thighs to keep her balance were a sublime image. I could come just seeing her in that state.
I pulled her to me with one tug to do what I had wanted to do to her since I saw her through the peephole. I ripped off her thin pink shirt to reveal the pink lace bra that matched her thong. “She came prepared,” I thought with a satisfied smile. I usually like to remove the bra because it gets in the way, but I decided to leave this one on because it was cute. The little flowers looked so pretty over her beautiful breasts. I yanked down her skirt and reached into her slutty cave. She clung to my body as she moaned my name as praise. My fingertips rubbed her sensitive clit as they bathed in the natural lube. Y/n struggled against her own body to maintain her composure.
She took possession of my body as soon as she climbed into my lap. I thought the fun was finally going to begin, but she decided to keep playing with my senses. She took possession of my cock to rub the tip against her clit in slow circles. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning like a bitch in heat.
“Don't be shy, I want to hear you,” she asked before gently twisting my nipple.
My eyes popped open as I felt her fingers against my sensitive spots. I think it's the first time I've ever been touched like that. She smiled as she realized the same thing I did. She approached me slowly to kiss my nipples gently. We had only slept together once, and she already knew my body better than I did. Oh Naoya, he really fumbled the bag. Poor bastard. She flicked her tongue and gently sucked on my erect nipples from the cold of the night. I closed my eyes to enjoy the tickling that ran mercilessly through my body as I moaned for her.
“How cute. Your cheeks match your hair and my underwear,” she whispered in my ear as she saw the blush that covered my face.
She shoved my cock in her all at once, bringing back memories of Dubai. This time, my back was no longer suffering from being pushed against a small wooden table. She rode my cock like a pro, making sure the tip had the biggest impact point. Her breasts bounced in my face, her moans were music to my ears and her hips were moving to the beat of a forbidden song. I wrapped my arms around her waist to hold her close to me and made sure my cock went all the way into her cervix.
She kissed me passionately without ceasing to impact her hips against me. It was wild, rushed, and powerful. She pressed my body against hers like a snake mercilessly choking its prey. I had no intention of fighting her, I could die in between her thighs and I would be so fucking happy.
I wasn't going to last any longer if we kept going like this. My mind kept repeating the national anthem to last longer in heaven, but it wasn't working. Y/n knew what she was doing, and she was doing a great fucking job. My cock was high and wet in her pussy, I wanted more, I needed more of her. My hips were moving on automatic to penetrate her fully. Her tits bouncing in my face was the best sight I have ever witnessed in my life. Y/n felt so tight and delicious, I was about to explode. Before I could help it, I came in her. My cock was slowly pumping her full.
“Are you done?” She smirked.
“Shut up,” I sighed tiredly. She pulled away from me to go to the bathroom to clean herself. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the bed. “I'm not done with you yet.”
”Huh?” She asked, confused.
“I may be satisfied, but you're not,” I told her before spreading her legs apart.
I wasn't used to eating pussy from hookers, they just made me cum and left, but seeing my coach's face all flushed and surprised made my night. She really didn't expect me to go deep into her body to finish what I had started. I dipped my head into her crotch to part her lips with my tongue. She stifled a moan and closed her legs at the tickle that ran down her back. Her thighs pressed against my face, drowning me in her delicious pussy. Y/n arched her back to bring her clit closer to my nose and thrust my tongue deeper inside her.
It was sour and sweet at the same time. I didn’t like the taste much, but I was a fan of the texture. I looked like a fucking junkie once I got used to the slimy sensation on my tongue. She pulled me by the hair to suck on her clit. I opened my mouth wide to eat the food God blessed me tonight. Y/n looked like a hot mess and I loved it. She moaned, writhed and called my name with lust.
“Just like that!” she moaned as she pushed my face, a sign that I was doing a good job.
I kept doing exactly what she asked until she squirted on my face. I jerked away confused as to what had happened. I wiped my face to see Y/n lying there like a happy starfish, arms, and legs spread across the bed tired.
“Good job,” She moaned in satisfaction with her eyes closed.
I was going to answer, but the doorbell grabbed my attention. It must be the prostitute. I wrapped my robe around me again and grabbed my wallet from the nightstand. I didn't want to waste time with her, I wanted to go to sleep soon so I could be well rested for the fight. I opened the door to find a blonde girl who reminded me of a bitch I know.
“Hi, handsome. It's nice to meet you, I always see you on the sports channel and…”
“Look, thanks for coming, but let's cancel. Someone already emptied my balls. Take 100 dollars and leave,” I said, throwing the bill at her and slamming the door in her face.
I went back to the room only to find y/n completely asleep under the covers. She looked exhausted, I shouldn't wake her up. I sat next to her on the bed and sighed tiredly. My horniness was decreasing, and I questioned whether I should let her sleep or ask her to go home. I looked at her again. She looked very comfortable and content tucked into me in the wet covers from our fluids.
“Looks like I'll be sleeping in the guest room,” I thought out loud.
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lightlycareless · 11 months
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Okay but im so curious
how would the zenin household react to seeing naoya become affectionate/simp for y/n?????? the thought of it already makes me kick my feet in the air
I will start with the fact that everything Naoya does with you is like a huge shocker to the whole clan.
From him finding a partner that willingly wants to be with him, to demonstrating affection to said partner… yeah, no one believed Naoya could actually care for anyone else but him, at least in a way that doesn’t denote making fun of them or something.
But he does, and when you came along, it brought out that side many wished he would’ve kept hidden.
I never envisioned Naoya to be very fond of PDA, at least not with people he knows, because he gets somewhat embarrassed (lol). Even holding hands with his wife when his relatives are nearby is like a big no-no. He feels like he needs to uphold this untouchable image of heir before them, demand their fear respect and so on.
However, as years go by, he’ll eventually just stop caring, especially if the two get married. He just… doesn’t give a f*ck lol.
And the thing he’ll do though at this point, oh, they’re going to be far from sweet. Let’s say that Naoya is a huge pervert when it comes to you lol. I don’t have any other way to put it, he’s just obsessed with you.
Naoya is the kind of person to slap your butt when passing/approaching you. He doesn’t care if you’re in the company of your staff, or if his uncle/cousins are there, or anyone really—he just had to do it, couldn’t hold himself, and you absolutely hate him for it because it makes you go through embarrassing moments!! Having to apologize in his name in order to do some damage control, people looking at the two and immediately looking away because they can’t remove that mental image!!! Oh boy.
You’ve talked to him about it and agreed to at least… keep it to a minimum, be more discreet if possible. Of course, that only applies in public places. In the bedroom… that’s a completely different story 😏
And let’s not forget he’s known to be a loudmouth, so the things he’ll tell you are not short of indecent either. This is probably the thing you dislike the most out of his affection. The other you could tolerate, act like no one saw anything (even play the fool if someone alleged they saw something) but THIS???? Nah, it’s just too much—and childish too.
“I don’t think it’ll fit, Naoya” you say, probably about something mundane like a new couch you got for the house.
“Really? But I saw how well you fit me yesterday.” And the way your face turns red is almost comical, more so when the mover was right there, listening to everything, Naoya just had to laugh.
“Shut up!!”
“What? I was referring to the conversation about the couch we had last night, pervert.” lies. The sneaky bastard will act like you’re the indecorous one out of the two for having understood his words like that!! As if you hadn’t known him for years now!
It’s safe to say that it’s really hard to have important meetings when the two are present, so his family would often try to get you or Naoya alone.
But… it wasn’t all that bad, because even when Naoya can be mildly infuriating, he’s also capable of being sweet.
That is something that mostly happens when in private, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world, more so when he’s spent a long time away from you.
Naoya will reach out for you first thing upon arriving back to the estate, gently cup your cheeks and pepper your face with kisses, telling you how much he missed you and your pretty face.
He’d wrap his arms around you, rest his face on the crook of your neck, taking in your scent as he relishes the fact that he’s finally back to your embrace.
Another thing I think he’ll enjoy doing (you as well) is when he rests his head on your lap, telling you of his day as you thread your fingers along his hair.
Bottom line, Naoya is overly shameless confident when in the eyes of others, but vulnerable with you :>
As for the reactions of the Zen’in clan….
Ogi, Naobito, and Jinichi would stare at him in complete silence/shock as Naoya goes on with his supposed displays of affection. I think that out of the three, Ogi would be the one more comfortable when showing his distaste for it, scowling whenever seeing you and Naoya together, quickly leaving the room as soon as he gets the faintest idea Naoya is to do his usual nasty shenanigans. The rest wouldn’t really care that much, asides from a “Really? Naoya? Ooookay” (and they know better not to interfere at this point 🤪 he's crazy protective of you)
Ranta would remain speechless, face completely red as he catches Naoya’s innuendos. He definitely feels a whole lot of empathy (pity) for you. But when his friend isn’t being nasty, he’s happy that he’s found someone to be vulnerable/happy with 😊.
Junko, Mai and Maki’s mother, is just the same as Ogi, only that she’ll openly tell both of you to “stop it”, and to “hold some decorum” for that’s no way the future leader of the clan should behave. Naoya just laughs it off, you apologize to her in private. At the end she knows it’s futile to even hope to change him—the two were young, after all, (IMAGINE IF HE WENT ON LIKE THAT EVEN WHEN OLDER? Hahahahah, Oh poor Junko) and contrary to her marriage, this was one made out of love so… good for them, she guesses.
Naoya’s brothers would be the ones to openly, even more than Ogi, show their disgust whenever catching his PDA. Naohiko would be the one to exclaim “EWWWWWWWWWWWW” as loud as possible when he sees them, maybe do some puking noises too? haha
Naofumi would initially not understand what the hell Naoya is going on about and why you’re so embarrassed all the time, but when he does get it, oof, he’ll disappear as soon as it begins.
And Naoaki… well he’d just try to avoid the two as most as possible in general lol. He never liked seeing people making out anyways... (uh who does???)
At the end, Naoya’s behavior would worsen become more and more obvious, especially when the two have their first kids 😊 He just loves you too much, he needs you to know that—that the others have issues with it he doesn’t care 🥺 all that matters to him his you and his new family.
ajgfakghagk Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! I hope it was to your liking ❤️
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kcokaine · 2 months
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Do you think Naoya a good, well written character? do you think he’d be a gay in denial or a violently straight man?
Naoya is spectacular character. He is so important for the story, his design overall is fucking amazing. I really love the whole idea of him. The oppression of his clan and how he really didn't know any better and gravitated all his hate towards women. I have a theory he is a misogynist cuz he believes women live a careless life and all they need to be is pretty to get around well. Naoya was born with ton of responsibility thinking his whole value lies in becoming head of a clan cause of the traditional values, believing anyone not strong enough is useless. I will say even though Naoya is a misogynist he is very progressive character. He despises everyone in his clan, he has make up, earrings and dyed hair. It shows how even progressive people can still hate some groups of people. I also believe Naoya has mommy issues and is in fact closeted homosexual. (Misogyny usually spirals to homosexuality, at least with my experience with some men) The reason why he hates Maki so much is cause Maki is everything he wants to be. (in fact, truly toji) Independent, strong, outcast that left the clan but still fights for what she believes but she is a woman. Naoya can't accept that cause he envies women, he envies the fact women can be strong. Thats why he belittles women cause he can't be a woman or openly gay, not in the conditions he was raised in. Naoya is deeply complex and because of the subtlety surrounding him, its hard to tell if this is truly the case but this is my take on it. tldr: I believe Naoya craves to be a trad wife to a strong powerful man that would take care of him
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nakachuchu · 1 year
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Blue | Gojo Satoru
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SYNOPSIS: A banished Kamo member who became a single mom was just what Gojo needed in his life.
WORDS: 1.1k
WRITTEN: 07/15/2023
WARNING: alludes to SA/R@PE (not from gojo dw)
NOTE: Thank you for requesting! This was the first request in months that I wanted to write. I've been in a gojo mood
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You were a Kamo clan sorcerer and a single mother, facing disapproval and isolation from your own clan due to your situation.
Though you carried the weight of their judgment, you remained determined to protect and provide for your child, shutting off any distractions that might divert your focus.
You were a semi-strict mother, as you wanted the best for your child. You blamed part of your rigid nature on your upbringing in the Kamo clan.
In the midst of this, Gojo Satoru, the enigmatic and powerful teacher from Jujutsu High, caught wind of your existence.
Intrigued by your strength and resilience, he found himself drawn to you. Gojo was used to captivating others effortlessly. But to his surprise, you remained unyielding, refusing to give him the time of day.
You hated how flamboyant he was, and the mere mention of him had a vein on your forehead bulging.
However, your son was a different story. He was utterly enamored with Gojo—mesmerized by his cool demeanor, incredible techniques, and the way he effortlessly wielded his cursed powers.
You never taught your son of Gojo's existence, so you were sure he caught wind of it through his evolving technique — 'Hear ye, hear ye,' the technique to be able to hear anything that is happening from anywhere.
Your son's admiration for Gojo was undeniable. As Gojo continued to pursue you, he began to understand the depth of your determination and the walls you had built around yourself.
Gojo's pursuit of your affection became an intriguing dance, his attempts to impress you met with your resolute indifference. But deep down, he couldn't help but admire your fierce independence and the unwavering love you showed for your son.
Though you resisted his advances, Gojo remained undeterred. He knew that breaking through your barriers would require patience, understanding, and proving himself to be more than just a charismatic and powerful sorcerer.
"Go away."
Gojo pouted, tucking out his shiny lip-gloss-coated lips at you. "Y/N," he cried.
You rolled your eyes. "I've things to do."
"I can do them with you."
"Please don't."
"Why not, Mama?" your son questioned, eyes twinkling in the same way Gojo's eyes were.
Just from the way they both looked at you, you would have thought Gojo was the father of your child.
Your shoulders sagged as you let out a loud sigh. "Fine."
One thing about being banished from the Kamo clan was you weren't under their protection and they were constantly finding ways to wipe you off from their family roster.
A disappointment was not needed in a clan where men ruled. To them, you had fooled around too much and gotten pregnant in the process.
No matter what you told them, they would not listen to you. Zen'in Naoya was someone they would not mess with and pointing fingers at him would harm their clan.
'But, I'm telling the truth!' you had shouted.
Your face stung from your mother's slap. Your ear was perfectly turned toward her now for her to yell at you.
'You think we would believe that Zen'in Naoya would lay a hand on you? You're not that special.'
You left with the clothes on your skin that night. You had been alone for months, giving birth to your son alone in a shabby apartment. You named your son Ao — 'Blue.'
His eyes were as blue as the sky you yearned to fly away to. He was the only one keeping you grounded.
At the sound of a banned Kamo member birthing her son alone, Gojo Satoru became interested in you. That was nearly a decade ago.
Ao's eyes ceased twinkling. He turned around in the direction of a line of trees.
"Mama."
You hummed, snapping open your fan. A slash of blood flew through the air, tearing off branches and leaves in the direction Ao was looking.
A difficult thing about trying to assassinate you was that you were not weak and neither was Ao. As much as he hated his father, he knew the combination of you and Zen'in blood contributed to his technique.
"You'd think they'd wait until you left, Gojo," you commented, amused.
He shrugged. "I guess they promised a big pay."
"You'd think they'd stop after a decade," you said. "Gojo, I trust you can take care of them? Ao and I have errands."
"Hey, what about me?" Gojo questioned.
You already turned to leave with Ao next to you. You looked over your shoulder and offered him a soft, cruel smile.
"Hurry up then."
Gojo grinned, and before you could even blink, he had already disappeared into the line of trees.
“Mama, why don't you just tell him you like him?” Ao asked.
“I think he knows,” you said.
“But what if he doesn't?”
“You should know, Ao. Gojo Satoru knows everything.”
Ao grinned. “You're right! I forgot.”
You chuckled. “How could you forget? You've idolized him ever since he came into our lives.”
Ao shrugged. “He's just always around us.”
Your son was right. Gojo Satoru was an extremely important figure in the Jujutsu world, but he chose to spend his time around a banished Kamo member who cried wolf and her illegitimate son.
Gojo was blessing you and your son with his presence unintentionally, but a blessing was a blessing nonetheless.
The first time Ao saw Gojo was when he was two. He was too young to know anything, but that sealed his fate. Gojo Satoru would be bonded to him.
The first time Ao spoke to Gojo was when he was six. He called out to the man whose thoughts he couldn't hear. Gojo was the only person in the entire world that Ao couldn't hear.
Drawn to the man who was a god in every way, all your lives were interwoven. There was no escaping your threaded destiny to Gojo Satoru. From one distinguished clan to another.
“I'm back!” Gojo exclaimed as he appeared next to Ao, putting your son in between you.
“So slow,” you said.
“Hey, that was fast,” Gojo retorted.
“I expect more from you, Gojo,” you said. “Right, Ao?”
“Right,” he said.
“So mean,” Gojo muttered.
“You're slowing down with age, Gojo. Though I suppose I can't tell gray from white,” you said, amused.
“Are you saying I have gray hairs?”
The man’s hands immediately went to his soft hair, patting every inch of it.
“I'm not saying you don't.”
Ao looked between you and Gojo as you two bickered. He smiled and squeezed both hands. You and Gojo stopped bickering and looked down at him.
At your quizzical stare, Ao shook his head and smiled. At Gojo’s bright laugh, your stare became even more confused.
The two boys who knew everything would keep their thoughts to each other: you were in love with Gojo Satoru.
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Text
w h a t’ s  m i n e  i s  m i n e
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f!reader x ryomen sukuna (jjk)
tw: nsfw + non-con + monsterfucking + double penetration + breeding + dead dove: do not eat 18+ MINORS DNI
word count: 1.9k
a/n: Kinktober story #2 is with the king, Ryomen Sukuna. I can’t believe I haven’t written a Sukuna smut yet! Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this, but this is really dark, so please read at your own risk! 
⋆ Kinktober Masterlist
buy me a ko-fi?
゜。+。゜゜。*。゜゜。+。゜*゜。゜。+。゜゜。*。゜゜。+
“What did you say?” your father challenged, his voice low and dangerous.
Behind him, your mother was silently shaking her head, begging you not to speak your mind. You had obeyed all your parents’ wishes since you were young, never questioning or disagreeing because it was ‘best for you’ even though you hated it. This time, however, it was not an option. You knew your worth, despite being a daughter in a lower-class noble family, and you were not going to tolerate being married off to a family full of misogynists. As poor as you were, you would not stoop down to the current head of the family, Zenin Naoya, and beg your to-be husband to save you and your clan. You wanted to be selfish, just this once. Was it so wrong to search for your own happiness?
Mustering your courage, you firmly replied, “I said no, father. I will not marry him tomorrow.”
“How dare you, wretched bitch!”
Before you even realised it, he had slapped you hard across your face, leaving an angry, red imprint on your cheek. You were foolish to think that your mother would step in and help you. Instead, she had done the opposite, reprimanding you for being rude to your father. You couldn’t believe it. The look in their eyes was enough to tell you that they were both cowards, willing to give you up just so they could survive. They had never cared about you, and you only had yourself to blame for not noticing earlier. This life was cruel, and you have had enough. 
So you left and never looked back, grasping at your only chance at freedom. Ignoring the frantic pleas for you to return, you kept running into the deep forest, knowing no one, not even your parents, would dare to set foot in. No one was that suicidal. After all, there were rumours of a cursed demonic beast living in the forest which mercilessly killed humans should they enter its domain. Unfortunately, no one came back alive to confirm it. But you didn’t care. Whatever monster it was out there couldn’t possibly be worse than Zenin Naoya himself.
You didn’t know how long you had been on the run; all the trees looked the same, and it felt like you had been going around in circles. You were starting to get out of breath when it suddenly poured, the rain drenching you in seconds. With no lamp to guide your way, you trudged forward carelessly, hoping to find shelter in the darkness of the night. Thankfully, you quickly came across what looked to be an abandoned temple that seemed safe enough, so you went in without thinking twice. You could barely step forward without tripping over the uneven stone floor. Then, as if sensing your presence, the torches on the walls lit up all at once, startling you. You could finally see a long, winding corridor ahead of you, beckoning you to keep walking. Taking a deep breath, you kept close to the left wall until you reached a room that was completely bare, save for the empty throne in the middle. You could probably rest until the rain stopped, but something felt terribly wrong. You got the notion that someone, or something, had been watching you ever since you entered the forest.
“Well, well… What do we have here? A lost little bunny, seeking refuge from the storm.”
The low voice came from the throne. An attractive man with tattoos all over his body was sitting on it, legs crossed over the other and his chin resting on his right hand. You started to panic when the room began to transform — the walls disappeared altogether, and skulls and bones were scattered all over the stone floor that was now filled with a thick liquid resembling blood. Maybe it really was blood; you didn’t really want to know. However, everywhere you looked, you couldn’t find a way out. You were trapped.
“Who are you?” you questioned, failing to mask your shaking voice.
“Curious one, aren’t you?” he mused. “The name’s Ryomen Sukuna. I used to rule these lands thousands of years ago, and people revered me like a God. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”
Ryomen Sukuna. His name was all too familiar. He wasn’t just a monster. He was the King of Curses, responsible for millions of deaths in search of power and glory. It seemed like the rumours of him being resurrected were true after all. If you had remembered correctly, he was dangerous, highly intelligent and manipulative. There was no way you could fight, much less exorcise him. You were no sorcerer; you knew nothing of spells and the like. You needed to figure out how to escape his innate domain before he could make his first move. But with his piercing red eyes staring right into your soul, you froze, too scared to think or even breathe.
“N- no, I don’t think I have. Actually, I’m really sorry. I should probably get going now. My husband will get worried if I’m not home soon.”
“You think I’d let you leave here alive after lying to me? Know your place, lowly human,” Sukuna growled, and you knew you had messed up. “Don’t worry, you’ll make a fine meal.”
He rose from his throne, reaching his full height of over three metres tall and revealing his true demonic form. You hurriedly stepped back as he took a step forward, but all you were doing was prolonging your inevitable death. You didn’t want to die, not like this. However, if you hadn’t left home, you would be living and suffering for days on end, and dying by Ryomen Sukuna’s hand sounded like the much better choice. Accepting your fate, you stood still and closed your eyes, waiting for death, but it never came. 
You felt his hot breath on your neck as he spoke, “Hah, to think I would’ve forgotten the sweet smell of a virgin! I guess it’s our lucky day. I’ll have you as my mate instead.”
With brute strength, his four hands grabbed your clothes and ripped them to shreds, leaving you naked in front of him. Your pathetic cries as you tried to cover yourself up had Sukuna laughing. There was no use in yelling for help; no one would hear you, and even if they did, he would never let them get close to you. Sukuna would’ve loved to see you fight back or run away, taking great joy in the thrill of a chase, but he wasn’t complaining about how downright submissive you were. Poor little bunny, he had frightened you to the core. He picked you up with ease, the tongue of the mouth on his stomach eagerly licking your body to taste how delicious you were. It was cute to see you struggling in his hold as if you could get him to stop. You let out a little yelp as he roughly threw you onto the throne, caging you in his arms.
“You should be thanking me. I never let anyone else sit on my throne.”
Sukuna spread your legs wide open, taking in the sight of your pretty cunt, just waiting to be used. As impatient as he was, he couldn’t fuck you straight away without prepping you. He wouldn’t want you to break before he could have his fun. Getting down on his knees, Sukuna devoured your cunt while his hands busied themselves with playing with your breasts and rubbing your clit. You were ashamed at how wet you already were for a demon like him. No, you weren’t enjoying it. You couldn’t possibly be. Yet, your body felt unbearably hot, and you needed more.
“Fuuuck,” you moaned involuntarily, succumbing to his temptations.
“Bet that feels nice, huh, little bunny?” Sukuna chuckled, looking up to see your flushed face growing redder as he inserted three of his thick fingers inside your cunt.
The foreign sensation made your hips buck forward as another strangled moan escaped your lips. You tried to shove Sukuna away, but the increasing pleasure was starting to cloud your mind. Just before you could reach your high, Sukuna slipped his fingers soaked with your juices from you and removed his kimono, revealing his veiny cocks. It wasn’t just one, but two fat cocks of monstrous length with both heads flushed and dripping with precum. He placed them at your entrance, slowly rubbing against your folds.
“No, no, no! Please, don’t!” you pleaded, hastily shaking your head. There was absolutely no way those things could fit.
“Are all humans so dramatic? Relax, you’ll be fine.”
Sukuna flipped you over before you could protest again. There was a tight grip on your hips. Then, he split you open as his cocks thrust deep inside you, your belly bulging and walls stretched impossibly wide. It hurt so badly that you screamed, but Sukuna paid no attention to your pain, too obsessed with how small and tight you were. He couldn’t remember the last time he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. Your cheeks were damp and streaked, and your legs nearly gave out, but Sukuna held you steady as he drove hard and fast. When you thought you could finally accommodate his size, it felt like he was growing thicker. You orgasmed unexpectedly, spurring Sukuna to bury all of himself inside you until his tips hit your cervix. Your head lolled back, and your body trembled, but he wasn’t planning to stop any time soon, his unrestrained pace making you see stars that you thought you were blacking out. Sukuna’s sharp teeth sunk into the skin on your neck, claiming you as his while one of his hands returned to your neglected clit, harshly rubbing it until you squirted everywhere. You thought you had heard him whispering praises in your ear, but your desperate whines were too loud to make out the words.
Waves after waves of pleasure washed away the pain, and it felt like hours until his hips began to stutter. With a final few thrusts and a satisfied grunt, Sukuna pumped his seed into your womb, stuffing you to the brim and not letting a single drop go of it to waste. He finally pulled out of your abused cunt and admired your exhausted body, littered with bite markings and dried blood, now slumped against the throne. Your eyes began to flutter close, and you were about to pass out when you felt Sukuna moving you. Draping his kimono over your body, he pulled you onto his lap as he sat on his throne. You leaned into his broad chest as he gently caressed your dishevelled hair, lulling you to sleep. Sukuna found it amusing that you were so quick to trust him, and all he needed to do was show you a bit of affection.
“When you’ve rested enough, I’ll fuck you again and again until the only thing you can think of is having my cocks in you all the time. But,” Sukuna warned, forcing you to look up at him. “If you're not pregnant in the next few months, I will enjoy torturing you to death for wasting my time. Understand?”
Heart sinking into despair, you were rudely reminded of the role you were made to accept. Perhaps this was your punishment for all your sins, and there was nothing else you could do but nod. Sukuna grinned at your compliance and rewarded you with a tender but possessive kiss.
“Now, sleep tight and sweet dreams, little bunny.”
゜。+。゜゜。*。゜゜。+。゜*゜。゜。+。゜゜。*。゜゜。+
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