#Gojo has hearts in his eyes
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k-martins · 1 year ago
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Then only for a minute I want to change my mind
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respectfully requesting a drawing of taichi and sora together and maybe with the proud satosho parents in there too 🥹👉👈
ÖISEDÖIOKJYEGRJN.KYBR always. I love the mole babies. Ugh i cant not draw them Head canon dump in the tags
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sulky-cabbage · 6 months ago
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The sukugo fight can't get animated any sooner I'm craving sukugo tiktok edits
#jjk#ryomen sukuna#gojo Satoru#sukugo#my post#sukugo's date night#Grown ass men beating each other up looking each other in the eyes thinking about love while a cutesy song plays in the background 😍#I saw a tiktok edit of Sukuna annihilating everything with the song “what is love?” by TWICE playing I was like wait a minute THISSS!!!#but with the Sukugo fight!!!!#I have a whole montage in my brain hear me out.... starting from 2:27 minutes in#Wonder where you are?~ I'm gonna find you~ Wonder where you are?~ I'm so dying to see you~ I can't take it much longer~#👆🏻these lyrics with that scene of Sukuna waiting for gojo on the rooftop before their fight...hmmm yes yandere vibes yes#How it could be as sweet as candy~ How it's like flying in the sky~#👆🏻These with Sukuna and gojo clashing in the sky over kenjaku#this part of the song is the slowest so a slow motion scene of them in the sky would look beautifulagghj#I wanna know know know know~ what is love?~ What love feels like~#👆🏻 these with Sukuna giving Satoru that look💀 and thinking about yorozu's words after Satoru chose their date to be on 24th..#How it keeps you smiling all day~#👆🏻 this one is obvious there are too many instances of them freakishly smiling during the fight that it's hard to choose lmao#How the whole world turns beautiful~#👆🏻cut to Sukuna saying he cleared his skies...yeah...#I wanna know know know know what is love?~ Will love come to me someday?~#👆🏻 and maybe if we're getting angsty with this... that scene of the last time “the one who will teach you about love” was brought up#in the airport where we see Sukuna from behind and Satoru says it was fun asdhjkkll#Then the song just continues with I wanna know~ I wanna know~ for 30 seconds until it ends#👆🏻 And here comes a compilation of Sukuna missing gojo and standing there looking bored and we have Yuji black flashing his heart#and sukuna looks behind him and has heart eyes for larue but it fades to him looking at yutagojo thinking it's gojo#because these two scenes are SIMILAR for some reason and then yuta failing at being gojo and sukuna copying gojo's hand sign and-#Do yall see what I mean this is their theme song fr The song being cutesy and upbeat is what makes this for me#Sukuna is living his first teenage girl experience Yall don't understand I need this so baddd I'm gonna learn how to edit and do it myself
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hinamie · 6 months ago
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@friendlyneighbourhoodorgandonor first of all thank u for the lovely comments on the art, I'm so glad I was able to convey the right emotion! You pretty much nailed it, I wanted to depict how Megumi is occupying kind of a liminal timeless space between past and present versions of himself. The train interior is meant 2 convey that liminal/transitional symbolism, but also throws in themes of death and rebirth as well as be a little nod to yuuji's domain. his past self and tsumiki are there as shadows (hah) of a time he can't go back to, and in choosing to keep living he is simultaneously grieving the past (younger self facing tsumiki) and looking towards the future (present self facing yuuji). I struggled with the colours a lot but I knew I wanted it warm yet somber. in a word, I wanted it Wistful. Megumi's character and circumstances are terribly bittersweet and he's got a long road ahead of him but above all the message of this piece is one about the beginnings of self-acceptance and first steps towards healing
re: your questions abt the caption, i completely agree the pronoun "them" is a bit tricky here but unfortunately it's lyrics and there's only so much I can do as I am not porter robinson. admittedly i had thought about editing it slightly to make the caption a bit more straightforward but I have too much love in my heart for Shelter and I think that changing the lyrics wld b doing it a disservice.
even with the slightly confusing "them", originally when i realized that the song ws very megumi to me, "giving [blank] shelter" made me think of a few different interactions:
tsumiki offering (young) megumi a sense of comfort growing up and giving (present) megumi something to fight for
(young) megumi wanting above all else to protect tsumiki and becoming a jujutsu sorcerer in the hopes that she could live peacefully
"start by saving me, itadori"
yuuji reaching out to (young) megumi and fighting to rescue (present) megumi
(present) megumi wanting to save people as a general philosophy
I thought that the caption could refer to any and all of those things! but honestly your comment made me realize how the use of "them" actually ties in really nicely with the timelessness aspect of the art itself, because we can't know which version of megumi it's referring to, or who between yuuji/tsumiki sheltered him and who he wants to shelter in return.
I also think that the shelterer/sheltered relationship could refer to both versions of megumi in an introspective interaction with each other. I drew (present) megumi with his arm around his younger self as a way to show that he is coming to acknowledge how much he has suffered in the past, yet resolving to find the strength to keep living and guide that child forward regardless. In this interaction, present megumi is the shelterer. In response, young megumi looks (metaphorically, not pictured in the art) to his future self and makes his own resolution to keep living, to grow up live a long life, in turn sheltering the people he will come to care about along the way. I like the idea of younger megumi as the one being sheltered becoming the shelterer in a show of gratitude for the strength that (present) megumi was able to find. In a way, he is both living for himself And for others. i know this interpretation is kind of convoluted and throws a bit of weird timeline stuff into the mix but thematically the idea of a cycle of hurt turning into a cycle of healing is very powerful to me.
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saetoru · 1 year ago
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one thing about me is that my jjk au ideas are never ending
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tonycries · 1 month ago
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TALKIN' BOOODY!
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Synopsis. The one thing he won’t survive? Your ovuIation.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, MARATHONS, cervíx kíssing, dúmbification, PÚSSYDRÚNK MEN, bréeding, creampíes, true form Sukuna, dp, talking you through it, jeaIous s (Sukuna), cúmplay, cúmming dry, use of powers, spítting, chokíng, matíng presses, p talking, p sIapping, reader ovuIates, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Love Machine.
Toji Fushiguro never thought he’d meet his match - he never thought he’d end up like this. 
Toned chest panting - heaving - in pathetic huffs and puffs, muscular thighs quivering with every second he folded you like a lawnchair into such a mean standing nelson. It’s all he can do to snarl out mere husked gurgles, “O-ovulation? Hah- five rounds n’ you still think she’s a match against me, doll?”
Lies. And both of you knew it.
The man himself can only watch through hooded eyes when you’re squirming your greedy hips back and forth for more more more- “But Toooji– when m’ovulating I really want a hah...a baby.” 
Oh.
Oh.
And Toji doesn’t know whether it’s your words or the mere sultry sound of your voice that makes his tall, powerful body shiver. 
“So what?” He’s spitting through clenched teeth, you yelp when Toji wastes no time jostling you into such a pliable position against his glissading abs. Big, beefy biceps flexing when he smears your thighs widely agape, “Then m’just gonna give ya a baby, ma.”
But fuck, is Toji cursing back his words the very moment his geysering divot slides past your spongy cervix and probes a deep indent right against the door to your womb. 
Because you feel so unfairly good - so scorching hot n’ melty all around him - that he can’t help but furrow his sweat-slicked brows and pump his hips vulgarly sloppier into yours. Faster. Harder. 
He oh-so-badly wants to cum. Needs to prove it.
But the way his feverish skin breaks out in another sweaty varnish, the way his overused cock twinges with overstimulation leave him wondering if he still can. Parting his mazing length past all the ribbony excess of seed from earlier tonight to milk himself fucking dry if he has to.
“Gonna b-be eating your words.” He’s seething cockily, heftily bloated tip blushing the exact same strawberry-pink shade as his pretty flush right now. “Swear m’gonna make ya- oh god.”
And whatever sentence rambling pussydrunkenly off of Toji’s filthy tongue never sees the light of day - because what he sees makes his throat tighten. 
Dipping down one fat thumb of his to circle the cream-topped peak of your sensitive clit, Toji pries apart your adhesive-like walls until he can take a long, hard look at the way your slippery entrance was swallowing every solid inch of him.
“Look at you.” He’s murmuring out, and your heart stutters at the primal adoration that laces his words. Round, padded fingertips pap! pap! papping! the edge of your throbbing clit until steady globs of cum from just before slip out of your needy entrance. “Got s-so much you’re overspilling n’ you still want more.”
You’re craning your head to look up at him, lashes fluttering following each of his vicious rams. “Can’t help it- I just feel so…”
You don’t have to talk - because your slobbering cunt does all of it for you.
A resounding squelch! ringing into your ears and all across Toji’s cottony mind in an utterly sensual manner. 
“Damn, girl-” you hear from above you. And he wastes no time slathering those bulky digits in a saccharine coating of all your sap, “-n’ I thought hngh- you were needy. Turns out this cute cunt is a fuckin’ diiirty girl.”
But, of course, who was Toji Fushiguro to not give you anything and everything you wanted? You were his girl, after all - and your eyes widen when those very same drippingly wet fingers are pushed between your sodden folds with a waterlogged fwop!
“S’this ‘nough for my ovulating girl?” Toji’s rolling his willowy eyes, hasty streaks of sweat running down the side of his face. “Speak up- ”
“Yes- fuck!” You’re clawing your nails down his firm forearms to rake red, red lines that match his puffed-up veins. Thumping hotly against your skin to the same ba-dump–! as the ones on his girthy shaft, grazing your clingy walls and molding them out generously to his size. “Need you to cum in m-me Toji– need it-”
Fuck- Toji’s knees weaken precariously at your words. Hollowed breaths coming out infinitely more strained, “Where- where do you want me?”
He thinks he’s going fucking insane. 
But of course, you’re showing it all off for him. Of course, you’re letting your index drag from the middle of your tummy to secure right where he was rummaging every nook and cranny of your insides. Just millimeters away from where the rotund bulge of his crownhead was pressing innocent pecks on your womb-
“Here.”
And when Toji cums he’s losing all strength - he’s out of control. “Fine- fine. But you’re takin’ every l-last drop- fuck! Everythin’ because you b-better make me a hngh- daddy all over again, doll.” 
Not even every ounce of superhuman strength from his heavenly restriction could keep him standing upright. Hunching over into your body, you feel like you’re being crushed- you are.
Gasping at the faint pop! of your poor joints once Toji’s letting himself droop languidly down onto his knees on the hardwood floor. Close. 
He’s burning so hot, and you eagerly inhale his sweet, cinnamony cologne. Laddered bumps of his abs meshing and melding into your back, his tightly clamped chin rests on the crook of your neck. 
“Mercy-” He’s muttering through clouded pants against your ear, vision flashing white behind his heavy lids. And the moment your gluey walls grip onto around his sensitive slit he thinks he sees heaven. Toji doesn’t think he’s had an orgasm like this in his entire life. “Mercy.”
You’re tangling up a few fingers to scrape along his scalp, parting Toji’s glossy black bangs - and you swear you hear his throat curdle, frantically biting down a hoarse whimper. 
Bulbous head bludgeoning into your forbidden spots and twitching up angrily, every sopping smack against your deepest depths only leave your mouth watering. 
You grind your hips down with a mewl, thighs aching to meet his strained cadence and draw out those tiny, sweltering hot spatters of milky cum. More. Where- 
But Toji’s eyes snap open- fuck! All it takes is one strong arm to hold your entire weight up easily when he darts down an urgent hand to curl dexterously around his hefty girth. Squeezing, tugging- “Fucking- cumming dry? Fuck-”
It can’t be.
Shit, it can’t be.
But a lazy few grazes of his sensitive cock inside your raw cunt helps him find…nothing. Not even a few wiry wisps of splattered seed. Furiously working his fingers up n’ down up n’ down your teary slit, trying to feel for another fresh lather of cum. For that familiar sloshing mess of buttery white- because Toji has never cum dry. Never. 
He’s swatting your puffed-up clit as if it was your fault all he could muster up was a singular dabbing bead of ivory. 
And as Toji watches that surprised glint in your eyes transform into something darker, something…filthier, he knows he can do nothing else but gulp. Chubby balls perking up with a mocking little twitch-
“M’not making it out a-alive, huh?”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Ge-ge-genius
“And according to the agenda, we’ll be discuss- fuck-”
It didn’t matter if Nanami was working. It didn’t matter if he had some stupid meeting for tomorrow. 
No- right now the only thing that mattered was that, according to his tracker, his lovely wife was ovulating - and of course, Nanami had to be there as a good husband to…help.
“-discussing the- oh- my love.” You’re sure that you knock over much more than a few important papers when you’re eagerly straddling him at his cool office chair. Looking up at you through blond, curtained lashes, “Still needy, huh?”
The only answer he gets are your greedy hands rovering all over his unbuttoned front. Perking a thumb over one of his bubblegum pink nipples, squeezing ravenously at his toned abs. All the way down until you’re hooking a finger underneath the shirt garter around his muscular thigh to snap!
“Fuck- m’here- m’here, I promise.” He’s massaging all down your perfectly arched spine, planting a slow, lecherous drag of his leaky divot across your spongy cervix. Drawing a goopy line that makes you squirm, “You want some of this, don’t you?”
Nodding and nodding, “Yeah- s-sorry I just need it so hngh- bad right now, Kento.”
“Nothing to apologize for, darling. M’glad to know my girl is ovulating n’ healthy.” Nanami leans back, and you can practically feel the sleazy up and down of his seductive eyes. He’s tilting his head ever-so-slightly, “Why don’tcha use my fucking cock like a good little wife then, hm? Let Kento here get some work done while you haaah- take care of that pretty pussy like a big girl- s’that alright?”
Fuck- you’d take anything you could get at this point. You just needed him.
And Nanami wasn’t serious about looking over some useless documents while you shuffled your hips to milk his every inch. Truly, you were his first priority after all.
But when you gave into his little teases oh-so-easily and looked at him like that- well, how could a man say no?
It’s like you were trying to get him pussydrunk, your sappy folds extra sticky against his toned front. Letting out the cutest of whimpers every time the fleshy mounds of your ass hit his belt buckle with a loud plap! 
Fuck.
Fuck, why did he say that he had work to get done in the first place?
Because now Nanami’s left clutching a crinkled document in one hand, the other soothing down your back as you crane yourself over and give his bumpy Adam’s apple a thorough suck. 
“R-right- the proposal of this project has been m-moved-” He was rereading the same sentence over and over and over. Watching your gyrating motions, alternating between vulgarly deep strokes inside and swivelling grinds to scratch your plump clit against his neat tufts of tawny blond. “...has been moved a-according to the ngh-”
“It- it feels so goood-” Your breath hitches with every cry, every thick drag of his pre-topped mushroom tip plundering your sweetest orifices. Nanami didn’t even have to try with that right-leaning curve of his, every battering bounce had you seeing stars. “-you f-feel so hngh- good, Ken. Wan’ you inside forever.”
Eyes widening a mere sultry fraction, his voice is so breathy. “Fuck.” 
“Focus on your work. You’re smart, baby–” You knew what you were doing - you were always such a minx during ovulation.
“Mhm, not like I’ve got a hngh- distraction.” A very welcome distraction that was currently toying with his haphazard tie, tugging and pulling until Nanami felt lightheaded with just how close he was to you. “A real pretty…” Curving up a thumb to swab up your sappy streaks of slick, it makes your pussy let out the nastiest squelch! “-real loud distraction.”
But, of course, that wasn’t going to stop you.
No. In fact, it’s as if your cadence gets even impossibly sloppier - a hard, fast papping of your hips that makes Nanami’s brows furrow.
“-and the client has r-requested that-” He’s hissing, a snarling smile ever-growing on his hips when your gluey walls cling onto him even tighter the moment he manages to get enough coherent syllables out. “-that we halt-”
A pen that’d been clutched in his hand - when had he even picked that up? - clatters onto the floor when you rake your hands to brush his aching, plump balls. But he barely even hears the commotion over those ringing slurps slurred out of your sloppy cunt.
“F-feeling handsy today, aren’t we?” He was tutting such nonsense at this point, glassy eyes trailing away from that important document in his hands and instead watching the heavenly sight that was you.
You, with your mouth spilling with whines upon whines every time he’s jerking his hips up in a rough ram. Such voluminous piles of buttery pre swashing around your insides forcing Nanami’s words to end up nothing but a ball of lead in his throat.
You’re noting the way his recitation has quieted down, doughy pads of your fingers still massaging where he was most sensitive. Humming, “S’everything alright- hck! Kento?”
And before you can say a word - before you can even blink - those particular meeting notes of his are thrown about halfway across Nanami’s decadent office.
Hands flying to you - everywhere, anywhere. Wrenching off Nanami’s speckled tie to loop them around your wrists and behind your back - tying you. Trapping you as he finishes off a knot.
Such a crazed look smeared all over his face when he’s lacing his now-free hands on top of the sweat-dampened crown of your head and pushing. 
Because you might have been driving him crazy with that depraved, rolling cadence of yours - but when Nanami fucked, he fucked mean. Holding down by your restrained arms to to warm his girthy cock, massaging his ridged veins along your resinous channel with a harsh thrust.
And yet it’s the perfect angle for a direct jackhammer into that magical area of your g-spot. He holds you captive until you’re being bruised with the perfect circular sphere of his inflated tip, until you can only throw your head back and cum.
You’re shuddering, “Cumming- ngh! M’cumming, Ken–” The sparks of white and red behind your shuttered lids are blissful, it’s like you’re crashing right into heaven.
“You got it, you got it-” Nanami’s bouncing his powerful knees to fuck you through your high, dragging his tight, cum-filled balls along the perk of your ass. He’s so large, letting you use him as you pleased. “Your Kento’s here, m’here so hah- gimme a kiss, please?”
Ever the gentleman.
It’s on autopilot when you do - you can’t even control the way your maw falls parted to make it such a slobbery mess. But your husband was far from complaining - “Good- good. Now spit in my mouth.”
“Fuck-” You’re whining, letting loose a viscous mess of spittle that targets Nanami’s pink tastebuds. Back arching when the very moment it meets his tongue makes his leaky divot burst with fat wads of cum. “-s-so full.”
That was an understatement - Nanami’s ribbony streams of seed were filling you up to the brim. He’s holding you still like his own personal toy, letting his staggering volume of cum stream from between your soppy pussylips to ruin his crisp office pants. 
Such round globs of pearly white that only make his smile grow even more feral. Guiding you at a lazy pace up and down up and down his throbbing cock to milk out every ounce.
He lets off a low whistle, “M’missing work tomorrow, huh?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - FRENCH TIPS
“S-Sugu-”
“Settle down, gorgeous.” Geto’s voice is silken-smooth, tinged with something so sexily husky that makes your fatigued thighs clamp even tighter around his pretty wrist. Trembling as he talks you through yet another orgasm tonight, “If you wanna talk out of this cute cunt here then you better let her fucking talk.”
And the only thing meaner than his words was the way that his doughy fingertips were prying apart your folds, circling the very edge of your slick-flooded entrance oh-so-lazily. Teasing. “Isn’t that right, pretty girl?”
Fuck- and he knows expertly how to get your sloppy pussy talking just as much as he was right about now. Pulling slobbery slurp! after slurp! that rings across his ears and makes them burn bright red at the fleshy tips.
Cooing away, and if you tilted your head just right you could catch the way that his tender palm was just gleaming with a syrupy lather of your juices. “Mhmmm– You’re the special girl tonight, s’like you’re in fucking heat. ”
You whine, “No–”
And Geto loved that. 
Loved how cute you were when he was mean. Loved splurging out his vicious digits from your hot core to drag his sloppy pink lips down till he was nudging against his mountainous knuckles. 
Sucking every ounce and sappy wad coating his fingers while staring deeply into your eyes. “‘Course you are. S’like a damn waterpark f’me when yer ovulating. Almost makes me wanna finally give you my cock. Almost.”
Almost.
And right now your melty mind couldn’t even fathom the possibility of not having Geto’s achy cock inside you right now. You needed him.
Desperately, your hips perk upwards to bump the fleshy mounds of your ass against his swollen girth. Glissading your skin across his sweltering hot length, yearning to feel the bumpy nudge of his veins. His plump, rotund crown-
“Tch- being teased turns you right now, huh? Or s’this pussy just filthy?” He’s letting off a chuckle, one palm covering your maw to block your saccharine sweet noises - because just the mere sound of your voice was making him twitch. 
He’s leaning in so dangerously close that you could practically read the filthy, filthy intentions in his hooded eyes. Drinking in the flowery whiff of his shampoo, “If you’re so impatient, maybe I shouldn’t give you my c-”
Geto doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Exactly as he’d expected. 
Exactly as he’d wanted. Oh, he loved it when you’d push him down and take exactly what you wanted, no matter how much he denied.
In only mere split-seconds, you’re flipping your positions over to splay him out like such a slut on the cottony sheets. Ass hitting his sharp hip-bones with a resonating pap! when you easily and pliably sink his curved cockhead past your teary slit. 
Inch by solid inch. Brows furrowing at the sheer stretch, tautly pulling your rubbery entrance to mold around his staggering girth-
“Yeahhhh, easy there. Take it hah- easy, gorgeous.” Geto’s batting is long, dark lashes up at you. And if you peered even closer you swear you could see his crinkled lids slip past a few stimulated tears. “S’a biiig stretch, isn’t it? N’ you don’t wanna hngh- hurt yourself.”
But you weren’t listening - you couldn’t.
You squeeze his tender throat tighter and Geto thinks he could cum.
The only thought running through your fuzzy head being to stutter out such thorough bounces, swallowing his rugged length from the curve of Geto’s inflated, ruby red tip, all the way until your plumped clit was rubbing back and forth against his dark happy trail.
“Fuck- hngh!” You’re moaning when his pulsing veins slip and slide in lightning bolted patterns all across your geysering sweet spots. “Feels so good- need more, Suguru.”
“Then fucking- take- it.” He spits, such a snarling grin smearing all across Geto’s face just in time with the pussydrunken splatters of drool leaking from one corner of his mouth. “Arch that back and take it.” Milking him until he’s lurching onto his elbows, “You’re the one ovulating, girl- use me.”
But you could feel your poor, overworked legs shaking, a pout cutely coating your words. “But-”
“Nuh uh, no complainin’-” You can’t help but flinch when his cushiony fingerpads reach over to give your bulging pussylips a good smack. Tugging right on the fleshy hood of your clit, “Take a few more inches n’ tell me who’s the one hngh- that was talking out of her cunt today, hm?”
“Sugu-” Swat! And apparently another soaking spank is all it takes for you to actually listen. Drooping your hips down further and further, bustling his bloated cock bottomlessly before the answering syllables tumble from your lips. “-fuck! Me- was me.”
“That’s right, good girl.” The thick fat of his thumb massages your treacly slit back and forth, forcing your hips to move in circling little gyrations that drive you wild. “Fuck, keep that rhythm. And who begged me to fuck this p-pretty pussy because it was that time of the month. Again and again and again?”
“Me.”
“Exactly.” He sounds so uncharacteristically smug. Dangerous. Such sexy veins puffing up Geto’s milky neck once he’s planting two feet firmly flat onto the cushy ground and pushing. Abs flexing with every swab of his weepy tip down your deepest depths over and over. “So if yer gonna ride me. Ride me right.”
Geto’s so feral pumping your cervix with branded bruises of his circumference, stuffing you so snugly full that your slick was flooding his bulky base in waves. “Bend your knees s’more- yeah. Yeah, move that hah- damn hand.”
Rudely sifting away your shy hands to cup his handsome face, he’s tilting his head right into your touch. You can feel your heart race when Geto nips your cozy palm, “Hold back my ah- hair, gorgeous. Can’t see her.”
Her being the way your glistening folds flutter when you push his silky locks into a haphazard ponytail and pull. Streaking a warm trail of sweetened juices down his abs when Geto bucks his slender hips to reach for-
“Ah! Fuck-” Your hazy eyes bulge out at the sudden crack of raw bliss, before scrunching pathetically shut once more when Geto’s split, plummy head crashes against the bullseye of your g-spot and drills down into it. “Sugu- I think I’m-”
And he knew it before you did. Could already feel the extra clingy smush of your walls, could see the way you’re letting your head tumble emptily backwards and cumming.
How cute.
Geto flies up one ravenous set of fingers to your heatedly pulsing clit and swats, one after the other. Two. Three. Counting them with each peak of pleasure he fucks you mercilessly through. 
Still letting his ears burn with the waterlogged thwack! thwack! thwack! of the spanks, you swear you could hear his breath hitch in awe. “We gotta train your riding, gorgeous. Luckily for you…we have allll night.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - “M-more…?”
The moment those words are murking out in a puffed-out cloud from Choso’s lips, he thinks he could faint. He thinks he could feel his ears pop when you’re breaking apart from his plump, cerise tip with a wet plap!
“Mhm–” you’re nodding, treacly ribbons of spit and buttery cum still dangling from your lips and the leaky divot right on top of his swollen cock. “Sorry, Cho- this ovulation still has me so…horny.”
You’d just finished making him cum with that pretty mouth of yours, twice with your hands, and once merely from the sound of your sultry voice. And at the way your lips curve into the perfectly stained pout, Choso finds his loose maw dropping.
“No!” He’s hissing out, sounding as pathetically needy as he feels. A viscous puddle of saliva formulates at the back of his tongue and threatens to trickle from right between his kiss-bitten lips, “No no no don’t apologize, I- I mean.”
And fuck- even after so long with you, Choso still feels so fucking shy. Just the memory from today of you confessing that your ovulation was here and that you wanted him to…help make his high cheekbones scorch over with a cute red blush.
Lower lip wobbly precariously as he’s tugging at your sweat-simmered body to pull you from your knees, supporting your entire weight when you scramble onto unsteady legs. 
You’re raising a brow, “Cho? Do you want-”
Only to be cut off when Choso manhandles you around and all but slams you against the cool wall of your headily humid bedroom. One slender hand curled at your throat, softening the blow, the other pawing greedily at the fat of your ass. 
He’s pulling and prying to take a long look at the way your gluey lips were being oh-so-easily stretched by his aching shaft. 
Oh, you were so hot around him, it’s as if you were melting. Lacquering down a syrupy glaze of slick with every throbbing inch being fed inside-
“Don’t- don’t even know if I can cum anymore-” He’s breathing out in a heated whisper against your ear. Ragged and crazed enough that it makes your spine prickle with tiny goosebumps. “Don’t know if- fuck.”
But of course, he’s spying down at that lecherous sight. Words petering out when he cranes his drunken head downwards to leave an open-mouthed trailway of snogs down your back. Murmuring into your skin, “Don’t know if I can- hngh- even c-cum anymore. But for you–” Finishing off his trek at the finish line of your lips, “-anything for you, baby.”
Such a filthy, filthy French kiss. 
He could taste the saliva sugarcoating your mouth, feel the weight of those globules of his cum swirling into his own mouth. So sinful that it made him whine-
“B-baby, are you sure?” You’re managing, mouth faltering into an oh! as he starts up a fast, urgent rut of his hips. But Choso wasn’t ready to let you free that easily - no, no, no. He’s chasing after your lips as if he was addicted, suckling on your battered lower lip, “If you can’t…”
“I can.” He’s gruffing out, and he’ll apologize for cutting you off later. Right now, the only thing that Choso can do is roughly latch onto your hips and give you steady pound after pound. Countless. “I will- promise. All the way ‘ntil your ngh- ovulation finishes if I hafta, baby–”
Well and fully intent on keeping his promise.
His milky hips smack and strike eagerly against your own until the mounds of muscle underneath Choso’s soaked happy trail was all a stinging red. So much so that you see stars.
And shit- then you’re gazing at him over your shoulder and he thinks he could reach his high just from seeing your pretty face. “M’gonna milk you till you’re heh- dry, baby.”
Choso didn’t care that the tender curve of his fattened balls ached with overuse, didn’t care that those words and a simply snug cling of your dewy walls around him would be enough to make his strawberry orifice leak with copious volumes of cum.
Swamping your spongy cervix, he’s making such an utter mess by slamming! one palm down onto the wall fitting snugly inside you until he was thoroughly bottomed out. 
You’re gasping when you feel the warm plap! plap! plap! of something hitting the curvaceous edge of your shoulder. Only to tilt your head upwards and find your dear boyfriend crying.
Such pearly tears beading out from the edge of his chestnut eyes, and Choso’s clammy flush only grows ever-darker at the intensity of your stare. Fat, cylindrical shaft twitching upwards and hitting your sweetest spots with a dull thud! you shiver when he spurts out exactly three rivulets of sappy seed. 
Only three. 
“O-oh god–” He sucks in a deeply shuddering inhale, watery eyes fluttering as his hefty breeder balls squeeze and make him cum dry. “-s’this okay? S’this- ngh- enough? M’sorry I-��
“Awww, don’t apologize, Cho.” you’re humming, heat coiling at your tummy with just how bloated and full you felt right about now. Choso was always more than generous with the heaping torrentials of seed, swabbing a few delicate speckles with every thrust of his. “You did great- ngh- did so well.”
“Really?” He’s tightening his fingers around your throat to shut you up, to choke you lightheaded - because oh. There was his second weakest point - your praise. Only second to simply you in general. “Really? Y-you shouldn’t say that, baby- s’gonna ngh- make me…”
He doesn’t have to say a word.
He can’t.
Not when Choso was leaning back to eye your geysering hole, gulping at the sweltering hot beads of cum that trickle from between your pretty lips. Wispy little goblets that he can’t help but thumb over with a huff. 
“U-uh, baby.” Shit, there was something dark in that tone of his. Something…greedy. From the corner of your eye, you’re catching the pinkish flash of Choso’s tongue glide slooowly along his kiss-bitten lips while he still stares down lovingly at your pussy. After all- didn’t you say you’d milk him dry? He wasn’t quite dry just yet, no matter what the sensitive sting of his balls said. “On second thought- don’t you…don’t you want more?”
And he swears that only makes you wetter, you’re leaning upwards to kiss away one salty tear of his, “Thought you’d never ask.”
Oh. 
Choso’s going to marry you.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Dickmatize
“Kuna- Kuna—” You were babbling away stupidly after only a few bruising strikes of Sukuna’s restless hips, halfway through crashing into the royal headboard if it wasn’t for one of his clawed hands latching firmly onto the crown of your scalp. 
“K-K-Kuna-” He’s mocking with a roll of his eyes, perking up two of his enguling hands to angle your hips even deeper. And the grin he’s plastering all over his handsome features is so sleazy, “S’there anything else ya can say, woman?”
Your lips wobble with a few strained whines, “Harder.”
“Harder? Keh- harder?” Sukuna spits out, letting your woozy lips drag across his in a lazy slip n’ slide - just about all that you could manage with how spellbound you were right now. “‘Course ya want fucking harder when you can’t even ah- handle- this-”
But it’s not as if Sukuna was doing any better.
Fuck was he glad that your dewy gaze was way too cross-eyed with every one of his vulgar strikes. 
Because Sukuna’s monstrously towering body was shivering, hooded eyes growing heavier every time the spherical ends of both cockheads skated into your snug channel. 
You were taking him so well, and that was making his cursed second mouth salivate.
And when he tilted his head mere inches his closer and sucked in a deep whiff-
“Shiiiit- I can even hah- smell the ovulation on ya, woman.” And Sukuna didn’t mind it one bit, in fact, he was taking in such heaving lungfuls of that specially candied air. Elongated canines gleaming in the dim lighting, “And it’s fucking delicious.”
He could always smell those special few days of the month when you got just a bit sweeter, even more gorgeous than usual, just a bit…needier.
The problem was that everyone else seemed to notice too. 
And he had half the mind to think that your ovulation was affecting him, as well. Because Sukuna felt feverish, head falling backwards when his proud lengths pry apart your gluey walls as if he was opening up his very own gift.
He just felt so dumb on your pretty pussy.
Your saturated folds lacquer with a freshly new wave of slick once Sukuna lets his maw fall slack with a growl. Sharp teeth nipping right down your throbbing pulse, easy to sink in. To mark. 
“P-Please–” You’re squealing when he’s letting off numerous thwacks! of his curvaceous balls against the weepy end of your slit, hard enough that it almost bruises. “Need you r-right here.”
And shit- Ryomen Sukuna may be the notorious king of curses, but he was nothing against you. Nothing against just how evil you were with your pretty hands trembling up the cylindrical bulge he was pounding into you.
“Want me to fill up th-this pretty pussy till everyone can see, huh?” Sukuna’s rumbling out, so close now that you could feel the rasping vibrato of his bulging pecs glissading down your front. “Till even that new fuck- coworker of yours realizes?”
His husky words out of place enough to make your droopy lids blink repeatedly, “Wha- who?”
That bastard giving you fucking goo-goo eyes and clinging onto you, that’s what. But Sukuna can’t utter that - he can’t even bring himself to do anything other than grit his sharp jaw, “Talkin’ about another man while m’all inside you, huh?”
Ah, the way your mouth falls into a shocked oh! is just adorable. 
Cockdrunken tongue struggling to get the coherent syllables out to defend yourself against his little tease. And if you were in any better state of mind you’d have sworn that only made him harder.
Stacked lengths barrelling into you once. Twice. And yet, pulling out on the third - watching your brows furrow when he takes his leisurely time fighting back the clingy embrace of your glutinous walls as he pulls out inch by fucking inch.
“Maybe you should have him fuck you insead.” Sukuna arches a regal brow, curling a stray hand around his bulky bases to leave a syrupy swot! right on your glossed folds. But, of course, with him it was always double the spank making your toes curl. Heavy. And hot. 
It makes your head spin, full of cottony thoughts of just him. “D-don’ want anyone else- ngh- Kuna- Just need you in me right now.”
“S’that sooo?” He’s drawling out, two palms smearing your jittery legs and spreading them widely agape. All the way until your inner thighs burned with both the stretch and the spurting streaks of pre he left. “Don’t know if I believe this slutty pussy, brat. Maybe s’jus’ the ovulation talkin’.”
He was being so mean.
But what was even meaner was the way Sukuna’s roguish second tongue lolls out to splat! right down on your treacly cunt. So, so comparably large - he was easily drawing wet little patterns all over your gooey core. 
Over n’ over.
“M’not- s’not–” You’re choking out, mouth needily parched. Rovering your hands dexterously over to cup his aching cocks - but you could barely even squeeze your digits into a close around them both. “S’not just the ovulation, Kuna-”
“Then say it.” He snickers, having way too much fun with just how needy you are. “Spell it out f’me.”
Hips bucking impatiently, “S-spell what-” But that’s when you realize- oh, that’s when you’re registering that those lewd little patterns being made out onto your pussy weren’t just patterns. 
No, you’re wrenching your eyes open just a bit wider to take in the sappy trail of sweet, sweet juices glazing Sukuna’s wet muscle. Lugging ounces of it allll over his tongue as he makes such a mess of you down below.
With the help of two fat digits smushing your cheeks together he’s prying your head to look right down. Just at the right angle to watch the dizzying motions of his tongue spelling out-
“A? Wait no-” Gasping as he plants another papping spank on your puffed-up folds, “-R? A-and is that- Y?”
You already knew what the next shape was going to be - you didn’t even have to watch the very edge of his roughened tastebuds draw a slow, circular kiss. 
Way off in the fuzzy distance you think you can hear Sukuna chuckle, cooing at your cute mewls. “O-o? Does it spell out- haaah- Ryo?”
Yeah, he was in love.
“Damn right.” Sukuna bites back a moan, when he sinks back in mercilessly. Feeding your starving cunt with a few scorching inches of both swollen cocks - and then all at once. “You’re mine, lil’ human.” And one slam turns into two. Four. Eight- until Sukuna was fucking you like he couldn’t stop. 
You were mumbling out stupidly, floods of murky saliva spilling in heaps from your mouth. “All yours?”
He’s spitting twice - once from each mouth. Wadding one mess past your ajar lips, and then another to slip down the hill of your clit.
“All mine.” He grins, oversized tongue slithering past your syruped folds to poke its way into your already-overstuffed hole. Taking in a deeeep breath of your honeyed pheromones, “And m’gonna fuck ya till that pretty lil’ head remembers.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - F.E.V.E.R.
Oh- Gojo’s head nuzzles dopily into the treasured crook of your neck, lips parted to heave out a scorching little pant of sweetheart—!
And at this point his sing-songy baritone is broken several octaves higher, held together at the seams with only a drunkenly crooked grin that you know doesn’t bode well for you. 
Because once again you’re left wondering whether it’s really you that’s ovulating or your dear, feverishly deprived husband right here.
Fingers twitching on the splintered mahogany headboard above, he jostles his hips to give your bruised and battered cervix a stinging little swab. Strawberry divot so red and angry, that just the slightest push leaves him slathering your insides with creamy pre in long, lazy ribbons. 
Just to remind you how achingly hard he still was. 
Even after hours and hours of you milking him dry, he was vibrating with the powerful buzz of reverse cursed energy that kept him oh-so-swollen.
“S-s’that ‘enough?” Gojo trembles out, shudders wracking down his spine. And you can’t help but ogle that unintentionally sexy flex of his washboard abs massaging onto your front. The way you could count each n’ every tight ridge. “S’that all my- hck! ovulatin’ girl can handle?”
Your chest lugs in desperate pants of air at the way each throbbing inch of his probes into your steaming orifices one by one. Languidly, as if Gojo had all the time in the world. “Y-yes…”
And oh, you really didn’t expect the strongest to fall for that one- did you?
All it takes is a few sloppy seconds for him to reel his head back and giggle, wild. Sapphire eyes gazing down at the inflationary little bulge he was fucking into you. 
Practically purring, practically heart-eyed. “Really? Well, that’s reeeeal interestin’, sweetheart, because-” Gojo’s dipping the thick, rounded pads of his digits to splay out over your tummy. Hard. And you swear you glimpse the way his half-lidded eyes crinkle with electric bolts of cursed energy, “-I can see that this pretty pussy is still in need of a hah- gooood fucking.”
You squeal when those very same fingers take a much filthier approach, tracing cute little patterns down, down, down to the sensitive nub of your clit. Before twirling over your plump hood and pinching. Making your leaky hole lacquer itself even wetter, “You’re still ovulating, needy girl.”
“Th-then—” you hiss back, the sole sound of your voice making his fat, ruddied tip twitch. He was so sensitive, so…filthy.
Feeling the soft curve of his free hand latch onto your waist, pinning down your squirming hips until you couldn’t jostle them even a singular inch more. To feel him more, ever-messing up your insides. “-then stop teasing me and-”
Ah, this was his favorite part.
Right when you had your brows furrowed needily that way, right when your lolling mouth was half-opened into the shape of a few snappy insults-
That’s the exact split-second he’s arching his prespired back into the perfect curve, hitting the spongy target of your g-spot dead on. 
“Still want more- h-heh–” Pearly white canines snarl back at the slippery slide of his dumbfoundingly long girth down your sweetest spots, rounded globes of his cum-filled sack swatting against the ends of your soppy slit with a resounding thwack! He lets off such a whine, “My girl wants- no, is begging for…more.”
Fuck, he sounded so ruined. Voice as brittle as you felt. 
You watch as his prominent Adam’s apple bobs with a husky ah! ah! ah! after every bounce back from the heated depths of your pretty pussy - he couldn’t bear to part even for those repeated split-seconds. Ruby red cockhead leaving stringy little wetspots that have you seeing stars.
“Yes-” you’re gurgling out, and Gojo’s only snapping his hips with vulgar strokes even faster to dredge out those pretty noises from you. “Yes yes- yes! Need it even harder, Satoru.”
Somewhere off in the distance you’re hearing a sharp crack! and only hours and hours later do you realize that it’s your poor bedframe. 
In the back of Gojo’s mind he couldn’t help but think that you’d be next.
“Harder- wait- harder? Ohhh, fuck- she wants more-” He’s seething out, planting a tempo of pounds after pounds that make sparks of heat sprint down your spine. It felt like you were being split into two - it felt like he was mazing apart your adhesive walls with such expertise that he must’ve been unfairly using his Six Eyes. “D’you realize that when you ask th-the strongest for hah- more, I might just break ya, sweetheart?”
Your dewy pussy folds twitch at those very words, enough to get him melting over into you. Hunching his sculptured body heatedly against yours, it has him considering proposing right then and there- “Wan’ you to, Toru–”
Fuck “considering.” 
Gojo’s feeling his maw flood with a syrupy wave of saliva, spilling out in trickling rivers on either side of his coral pink lips when he’s choking out, “Marry me- marry me.” 
His reverse cursed technique wasn’t even workin anymore - power rolling off of him in pressurized waves. He couldn’t control it.
Feeling his eyes go crazily wide, he could already feel them watering when Six Eyes kick into overdrive but still doesn’t look away from where your needy entrance was sucking his every fat inch. He wouldn’t. He can’t.
Entranced. 
Can’t do anything else, didn’t even register the wadded mess of sweltering cum coating your insides in a sloppy second skin. 
You’re squealing as more and more strikes planted onto your drooling cunt leave you rendered stupid. Gojo’s eager fingertips keeping your saturated lips held captive with an ever-tightening squeeze.
Your thighs jitter helplessly at the swashing cobwebs of seed that fill you to the brim and more. Seeping from your flooded entrance slobbering in a sloppy ring around Gojo’s hefty base, one that lecherously matches the drenched white happy trail scratching up and down against your puffy clit. 
“Baby, w-we-” So full it’s like you can barely even speak. Gulping in deep lungfuls of his expensive cologne when he’s stuffing into your personal space and nastily swirling his bloated cock around n’ around your rubbery walls, till you’re soaked with his cum in every nook and cranny. “-we’re already married.”
“O-oh.” He’s sucking in a sharp inhale, eyes flickering with axioms of power once he scoops up generous helpings of ivory seed topping his shaft, popping it into your mouth with a wet plop! 
And then - only then - is he finally looking away from your bawling cunt.
You’re not sure whether his simpering, feral smile is because of the realization or because he’s finally noticing that he’d cum. Only…the next few words spilling from Gojo’s mouth make you realize that it’s neither- “Can see that we’re gonna have a daughter soon, Mrs. Gojo.”
“...”
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A/N. Can y’all tell I’m nearing ovulation hm…
Plagiarism not authorized.
11K notes · View notes
joemama-2 · 1 month ago
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throughout the entire ceremony and reception, gojo can’t keep his eyes and hands off of you. maybe it’s the excitement of finally being husband and wife, or the sheer thrill of what’s to come afterwards.
because everyone knows, the after party is always better than the actual event.
you just look so beautiful, so enchanting, so….his. it’s a pain to just opt for making out in the back of the limo on the way back to your hotel because he’s forcing himself to wait. wait until you two are finally alone. wait until he can just finally show you much of a good husband he is.
there’s rose pedals, a glass of champagne, a huge heart shaped bed, dim lighting, a spacious suite, a beautiful balcony that overlooks the darkened tokyo skyline. it smells like warm sugar.
everything is perfect.
well, not as perfect as seeing you lay down on the bed, still in that expensive, but memorable white dress. your hair down and slightly messy from the dancing and alcohol. cheeks flushed and a dopey smile on your face. he mirrors your expression, his own inebriation coming into play because you weren’t the only one who drank more than you could handle.
he’s unbuttoning his white button up, freeing his broad chest. working next on the belt of his slacks that are too tight to hide his growing tent. all the while, he’s keeping his eyes on yours. stalking towards your figure on the bed. he starts by raising your ankles, your heels having been discarded already.
planting kiss after kiss, the tip of his nose being shoved against your skin as he inhales your scent deeply. he’s working his way up from your white, manicured toenail to your tempting cleavage, then to the crook of your neck, the top of your hair, and finally…your lips.
it’s a sweet and soft kiss, one that lingers and one that further solidifies the new union of love between two souls.
it’s only when he pulls back, breath mingling with yours, eyes glued to each other, his hands paused on your thighs, body slotted between them, that he realizes…
you’re his wife.
it’s his wedding night, and you’re here as his wife, his life-long partner. the woman who he’ll stay with through sickness and good health, and vice versa. the woman he’ll have children with. the woman he’ll grow old with. the woman who he’ll be buried with, his skeleton cradling yours until enough time has passed on earth where you two are nothing but a faded memory for your future generations.
his wife.
his wife who’s currently laid out in front like an offering to him.
yeah, he’s breaking the bed.
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screampied · 1 month ago
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DI☆MOND BOY. g. satoru
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☆ sum. if there’s anything more scarier than a special grade curse to gojo, it’s coming home to his pretty ‘lil wife who’s got a sizzling hot temperature of baby fever.
wc. 8k
warnings. fem! reader, housewife! reader, fluffy smut, unprotected, mention of kids (2), baby fever, brief láctation kink, bóob obsessed gojo, cėrvix mentions, body worship, cunnīlingus, this is where you’re weak right, r has stretch marks, dad! bod gojo, breęding, sqúirting, spitting on it, fingęring, filthy pússy talk, implied multiple rounds, petnames.
an. this is kinda rawdogged, im ugly sobbing to sza, and i think … im a gojo girl now (・・?)
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“sweetheaaart?” satoru steps through the doorway, doing a quick scan around the semi-tidy living room that he’s greeted with. turning to lock the door, the heel of his shoe nearly steps onto the edge of a squeaky teething toy. he picks it up, putting it in the basket of other toys with a contempt smile—remembering the kids were staying at your grandparents ‘till the weekend.
still - silence.
satoru scratched his head once you didn’t reply like usual whenever he announced himself. pulling off his coat, his husband instincts kicked in instantaneously. what if - what if, the same questions repeated through his head as he made his way upstairs. his heart’s racing, and as he’s speeding through the narrow hallway, he just hopes his wife’s alright.
but as he twists the croaking handle of the bedroom door, he’s met with you lying on his side of the bed. with a towel underneath you, you’ve got a cute scrunched-up look of frustration as you rub a vibrating wand up and down between your legs. you’re sprawled open—and as you’re whimpering repeatedly, it takes you a long second to realize satoru’s just stiffly standing in the doorway with the dumbest lopsided grin.
“s- satoru!”
“hey, girl,” his eyes avert toward your pretty thighs that trembled, occasionally leering back toward the drenched white towel that sat underneath you. stepping closer, he tossed the bag of toiletries you asked for, hearing it flop near the nightstand. “hey to you too, pretty.” and you pouted, watching as he slowly took the active buzzing toy from your hands.
leaning in, he greets your ankle with a delicate kiss. “ ‘m home, ‘toru’s home.”
his touch, it was forever gentle.
satoru’s lips softly planted against your skin, tilting his head to get a closer look at you - the epitome of looking like a guilty deer in headlights.
cute.
“how was um.. work?” you murmur, trying to ignore the quickening beats of your active heart.
thump after thump after thump and it’s just so loud that you were even starting to hear each pound sound out of your chest and through your ears.
satoru sits up, sliding a part of the blindfold to lift over his left eye.
right away - he’s staring at you with icy-blue eyes that resemble calming waves of crashing tides. long lashes of his flapped prettily as it took in your exposed figure with a single glance.
“was alrigh’,” he hoarsely mumbles before staring at the toy that was propped between your legs just a minute ago—gripping it in his palm. “are we gonna talk about this though?”
“i thought you’d be home later,” you shyly replied, feeling satoru gingerly rest his chin against your bare tummy. your voice sounded so smooth, especially whenever you were a tad bit nervous. he could listen to you all day. “and i never have time to um..”
“play with yourself?” satoru raised a snowy brow, kissing the centre of your stomach.
“mhm.”
“sweetheart, you have me y’know,” he flips a thumb over one of the pink buttons that were on the button, switching it off. the buzzing noise gradually dies down with a ‘powering off’ sound before he sets it aside.
god - you felt so fuckin’ hot.
as he laid close between your legs, showering your skin with ‘i missed you’ kisses — you let off a soft, contempt sigh.
“yeah, but- like, when you aren’t here. i would call you but i don’t wanna do that while you’re working, ‘toru,” and satoru places the edge of his wrist on the side of his cheek, intently listening to you.
his eyes softened - pupils dilating with love, nearly forming into hearts as you spoke. as your sentences continued—you could see tiny dimples forming at each corner of his crooked pink lips. he’s trying so hard not to smile. “. . what?”
satoru sits up before pressing a three-second kiss against your lips. “sweetheart, you can call me while ‘m at work, you know. i don’t mind if it’s you,” and he surprises the left side of your temple with another peck. “even if it’s a text. you’re the only thing that keeps me sane when i’m out trying to save the world.”
“okay,” you replied, cupping his face.
satoru stares deeply into your eyes, and you can already visibly see that smug grin preparing to tug across his pink-glittery lips.
there was something else though.
with the kids away ‘till sunday, you found yourself pondering a bit.
you’d be watching some random show on tv them out of nowhere — you’re hit with a commercial for diapers.
it’s like the universe was trying you.
it’d happen at least more than once a day, and you’re just thinking . . . what if.
satoru and you joked about having another baby sometimes but now - it had you thinking.
just imagining the pure imagery of you walking around with a plump, swollen tummy, again—having satoru carry you almost anywhere, hearing him lovingly brag about his oh-so-perfect wife that’s expecting in the background of a phone call.
ah.
you had baby fever,
again.
that much was apparent, and satoru noticed how you were spacing out mid-conversation.
“heeey, what’s goin’ on in that pretty mind?” he pouts, his face still cupped with both of your palms. “earth to mama gojo.”
“satoru,” you’d sigh, a breathy gasp trying to tear its way through your lungs. you felt like you were burning up—and the more he pressed sweet kisses against your tummy, the more you started to feel your temperature rising. “i.. i feel hot.”
his eyes widen, placing a hand on the back of your forehead. “is everything okay?” and as he starts to get into his ‘protective husband mode’,
satoru sits up, white brows twitching in concern. “stay here, baby. let me get a thermo-”
“no, no- not hot in that way, ‘toru,” you shake your head, grabbing his wrist.
satoru’s a bit dumbfounded and it takes his empty brain a bit to fully register what you meant. leisurely, your thumb circles around his hardened knuckles before you give him that look.
he knew that look all too well.
“oh! oh, you’re …. horny. okay!” he dryly laughs, his look of worry slowly faltering.
satoru grabs your wrists, giving each of them soft open-mouthed kisses before speaking warmly. “i should’ve . . . figured, hehh-” and his eyes flicker down between your legs that were shamelessly dripping from each thigh with dewy drops of slippery slick. “was the new toy treating you well?”
“no. you sort of interrupted me and i didn’t finish.” you huffed, and satoru cheekily grinned.
“well pardon me for thinking somethin’ happened to my beloved missus,” satoru sneaks another kiss against your lips.
he tastes sweet - his lips, were always naturally glossed and his lashes lowered once you let off a cute, impatient sigh.
“but, my poor poor girl,” you moaned as he continued to hoarsely tease you, feeling him sneak a big hand between your already cracked-open thighs.
“girls,” he corrects himself, bringing the pad of his thumb near the opening of your drenched clit. you’re whimpering, hearing a single wet slosh sob from between your legs once satoru gives your entrance a single sparing second of his attention. “she’s as wet as ever, huh.”
“s.. s- ‘toruuu-” you’d gasp, watching as his head trails down low low low until it reaches just below your abdomen.
satoru’s hair gently grazed against your skin, and you were desperately holding in a deep exhale that you didn’t even know you were clinging onto for the longest.
“let’s see how much she’s missed me..” satoru gravelly coos, giving your nub a gentle kiss. it’s a wet ‘mwah’ that sticks against his lips like paste.
your legs were already struggling to hold still, and satoru couldn’t help but hum. as he swirls the flat of his palm around your twitching pussy in sloppy circles, you could already see him hungrily licking his lips through your blurred peripherals.
lying fully back, your back hits against the cushioned pillow that flatly plumps itself out against your weight.
your breaths started to sound more and more labored the closer he pursed his puckered his lips..
wetly, satoru brings a lanky middle finger towards your entrance before gradually sinking it inside. you’re moaning, feeling the lengthy tip of his tongue before he treats the top of your clit with a few beginning kitten licks.
“f- fuuuck,” your brows curled together, feeling him cup his mouth around your pussy. it’s a damp, wet pop! that resounds from between your legs, and it’s all because of his finger that easily disappears between your folds. “more, ‘toru- pleaseplease.”
“ ‘m gettin’ there,” he purrs huskily, grunting once he swirls his middle finger around inside of you. it’s so looong, stretching all through you as he feels you tighten around his digit for a few split seconds.
“atta girl, bare ‘round it for me jus’ like that baby … fuck.” as you’re slowly wetting his middle finger with your slickness, that’s when you feel him preparing to stick another in.
it’s so slippery yet again - loudly, it pops its way inside, echoing out a pretty noise before he eases his index finger inside. satoru’s fingers were just so damn long that it didn’t take him long to locate your g-spot at all.
with a ‘c’mere’ motion of his fingers pulling back and forth inside of you, he’s flicking both fingers you’re already spasming out. he’s reaching you good, and he’s drinking every melodic moan that left from your lips.
“f- fuck, riiiight there,” you’d continue, your hips squirming a bit. parched breaths from satoru fanned against your pussy, and he’s groaning right with you.
you’re just so wet - drowning in puddles of your lustful filth, and like the doting husband he was, he just had to clean you up. proudly, he does so with nothing more than a few flicks of his tongue.
“s.. satoruuu.” you’d whimper, biting the inside of your cheek once the pad of his index finger’s starting to ruuub its way against your g-spot.
your scent - satoru went feral for it every time, and he’s starting to lap his tongue against your clit at a much more erratic speed.
he’s forming slow yet steady stripes in an up ‘n down motion, occasionally smearing a thumb across your cunt to hear you whine. satoru’s low groans were muffled—sounding husky and all, and he’s just merrily slurping you while you writhe uncontrollably against his face. he even had the goofiest grin on his face the entire time too.
he had to admit, being between his wife’s legs or even being in your presence alone was far better than fighting some ugly special grade curse.
your grabby hands found their way to your full, jouncing breasts and you gave them a nice squeeze before whining again. even that made you sensitive.
between the wet thrusts of his long tongue—satoru’s giving your heat sloppy, sloppy kisses, even making sure to give your pussy a few pecks also. he left no area unattended.
satoru’s eyes shined bright, even brighter whenever when he was between your thighs.
in a way, the colors of his blue eyes had parallels to the shade of sapphire or any jewel, really.
as his eyes occasionally met against your own— you’re always staring at a vibrant, luminescent shade of cerulean that was forevermore fixated on you and only you.
his wife.
“mhh, hearin’ her cry for me is just the recharge i need from work, sweetheart,” he groans, cautiously pushing his twinned digits in of your cunt before pulling them riiiight back out.
not all the way, but just to where the glossy tips of his fingers showed. you’re clamping down on them both well—and he made sure that you felt every inch. you were indeed loud though, especially between your legs.
as satoru’s counting each vulgar squelch in his head, tittering to himself at how you just couldn’t help but pop out slosh after soddened slosh..
he’s paying attention to certain spots inside of you, and he’s stickily hitting all tender spots inside of your pussy - treating each one like a target.
bullseye after bullseye - he hits you in all the right places, and if it was one thing satoru’s long fingertips didn’t do, it was that they never miss.
ever.
your back’s just arching like a stretching feline, and your unsteady irregular breaths were far more than labored by this point. satoru’s tongue glides its way across your pussy before he takes a moment to spit right against your sopping entrance. you’re moaning, peering down at him, and he’s so focused on the mess taking place between your cute, shuddering thighs..
“haah-” he breathes, pulling out his fingers briefly to suck on them for a taste. “missed her so bad. she’s missed me too - fuck, can’t . . help but clench all ‘round me,” he whispers, prying your legs even more apart.
satoru’s taking his precious sweet time, savoring each honeyed drop that dribbled down your thighs before he feels your hand gripping his hair. as his head abruptly yanks forward, satoru looks up at you while sliding a tongue over his lower, slick-covered lip. “hm?”
“ ‘toru, m- my stretch marks,” you hesitate, your thumb gently digging a path through his scalp.
pausing, his dripping lips rested near the crevice of your thighs before he kissed the inner corner. “yeah. what about ‘em?”
truth be told, you were never so fond of them.
you knew your body would change after pregnancy, even more after the second time but still -
it had you feeling a bit iffy sometimes, pouting whenever you looked in the mirror and peeking down to glance at the stained marks reminding you of your visibly changing body.
“its just.. so-”
“beautiful, perfect, gorgeoussss..” he lowly whispers, kissing your thighs after each compliment that sang from his twitching lips.
satoru always knew the perfect time to cut off your sentence that he just knew was gonna be something negative.
with him—he’s listened to you express about your stretch marks, or anything new appearing on your body, and every single time, he’d remind you of just how flawless you were - to him.
you moaned, looking down to see his crimson-pink lips halting from your aroused entrance, pressing dozens of wet kisses down each striping mark that stretched against the inner parts of your thighs.
his lips were so zealously soft, and each impact of the kiss had your heart fluttering in the same way a butterfly flapped its wings. satoru’s fluffed ivory tresses were still gripped tightly in your hand, and he could feel your hold lessening by the second.
“even if you may not like your body, i love it,” he murmurs lowly, closing his eyelids. “and i love you.”
your skin was burning up, probably hotter than before and your heart felt like it was about to burst out the middle of your rising chest. each beat was more powerful than the last, and you started to feel a tingle in your toes.
“but baby-” he continues, bringing the back of your hand toward his lips before giving it a chaste kiss.
“i hope you know that you’ve gifted me two children with this beautiful body,” satoru sighs, guiding his lips down the bottom of your tummy to shower a kiss there too. “i’ll remind you every day of why i love you ‘n your beauty marks if that’s what you want. besides! i’m growing some too heh-”
“ ‘toru-”
“starting now,” he coos hotly, trailing his kisses back down between the valley of your legs. “such a perfect body, can’t believe i get ‘ta call you mine,” and with one concluding kiss against your marks, he brings an eager closing kiss against your drooling cunt. “can’t forget ‘bout her too, my other pretty wet girl.”
whining, you felt an impatient heat pooling its way around inside of you. your legs started to quaver again, and you were feeling your jaw tighten before slacking. “sa- satoru, ‘m gonna .. cum,” you rawly mewl out, your grip on his hair tightening again like before.
pursing his thin lips into a straight line, he brings them back toward your pussy, sluuurping everything out of you whilst you’re nearly dragging his head back and forth against your dripping heat.
satoru’s stubble tickles against your folds and it cutely makes your legs twitch. with your ankles having a mind of its own, they wrap around satoru’s neck — keeping him in a lock.
“mmgh-” his white lashes remained shut as he cupped his lips with such intensity.
satoru’s chin was getting drenched with your mess, and he couldn’t care less. his head moves and moves, swaying frantically between your legs while forgetting to take a single breath.
you tasted like candy - equivalent like honey, and the tip of his tongue was adamant on slurping up any ‘n every single drop of nectar that dribbled from between your puffed slit. satoru’s always had a sweet tooth, and your cunt was the only treat he’d happily feast on all day long if he could.
“c’mon, pretty,” he huffs breathlessly, the button tip of his nose swiping its way down your clit. you’re so so close, and your orgasm’s just sitting on your maddened tastebuds.
as his head continues to ferociously bob between your shaky legs, you’re whining with those same sweet babbles and babbles of his name, begging for him to not stop. his tongue’s just covered with his sugary-tasting saliva—sticky webs gluing against the bottom part of his chin as he’s now buried nose deep.
“toru, satoruuu,” and its more of a pitiful battle cry.
the edges of his teeth softly nip against your cunt before his tongue lazily circles around your throbbing frenulum. an incoming prolonged moan gets caught in your throat as you feel his head tilting for a better angle. “cum- ‘m cumming, fuuuck!”
as your release was coming to its teetering demise, you were shrieking at the top of your lungs in overwhelmed pleasure.
satoru’s giving your labia its final sweet ‘lil wet sucks before feeling your legs weakly releasing its temporary lock around his head.
heavily, he’s panting sharply against your pussy before bringing a thumb toward the top part of your puffy nub.
satoru’s sloppily spreading it apart with a single finger, staring at the cute excited pulse that occurs from the very inside of your pussy.. “haah- good girl.” he praises, feeling you arch further once his drenched stubble scrapes against your crying entrance.
you’re wetter than ever - and satoru’s lips shined even brighter thanks to your treacly juices. passively, his reddened tongue chafed ‘n twirled ‘round inside of you, and as you’re still riding out your eye-boggling finish on his face, you grab him by the hair. “s- satoru, just.. hah- came.”
“mhm~” he clumsily falls face-first against your cunt, giving your teary folds a wet kiss.
smugly, he looks up at you with a slick chin before whistling against your clit. “phewww. did ya?” he grumbles, creeping a plump thumb near your puckering hole.
you clench at that, and he ogled as your tummy sinks inward. “fuck, s.. sooo damn pretty,” and as he gives your pussy a few departing french kisses, he sighs. “mmch-” he smacks his lips, and you stared as he swiftly removed his blindfold with one hand.
as you’re panting yourself, your legs remained spread.
still lying on his stomach, satoru brought his black blindfold up to his sneering lips before wiping it side-to-side, using it as a handkerchief.
“hah- wifey tastes as good as always,” he snickers, closing the gap between you two with his own body. as satoru’s towering figure falls against you, he brings a longing, silky peck to you before groaning against your trembling, kiss-swollen lips.
satoru awkwardly moves against you before mumbling out a few ‘f… fuck’ ‘s once he feels a certain something poke from the middle of his boxers.
he’s … hard.
you felt the bulge stick out of the cloth, pressing against your bare cunt — its hard to miss, and your hands instinctively reached for the knotted string of his pants.
“baby-” he bites his lip, feeling the tent prod wider. its almost painful, and he’s even starting to grind against your leg to ease the throbbing. “mmgh-” he goofily grins, his expression shortly switching to a look of lustful panic.
he’s been so focused on you that he didn’t even realize all this time—he’s had a raging boner that’s been aching for any sort of crumbs of attention.
“baby, were you working while being this hard?” you timidly murmur, watching as satoru’s face flushes with a burning tint of strawberry red.
“h.. heh. no silly,” lie.
satoru had a bit of a bad habit of randomly thinking about you - his adorable, sweet ‘n perfect wife while he was out fighting enemies.
sometimes, the longer he thought about you - the longer his problem got.
satoru brings a hand toward your right breast, and you gasped once he gives it a loud ‘popping’ suck. frosty-white strands of his hair drag against your skin as he’s slooowly running his balmy, hot tongue around your sensitive nipple.
you were still tender - not just anywhere but everywhere.
it’s fully marked a year since you had your second child, meaning that of course, your body would still be a bit sensitive in some places. places like your soft, rounded breasts—especially.
you moaned, feeling the tip of his drooling, wet tongue criss-cross its way around your perked areola. every suck suck suck pops out from his lips louder, and you start to play with his hair.
“s.. satoru,” you whined, a pout starting to display against your lips as he tended to each breast lovingly.
“i know.. i hah- know,” he breathes through rushed exhales, turning you on your side. “jus' wanted to make sure my favorite girls got some attention too.”
you felt the cool air whoosh against your skin at each second he released each nipple from his lips. it's brief - but quick, and satoru’s already got you pulsating. he’s flicking his tongue while fluttering his lashes at you, allowing clear driblets of saliva to drizzle from the cracks of his mouth.
you’re biting your lip the entire time as you held the back of his head close—hearing a bit of shuffling before satoru’s eyes trail down your fidgeting body.
so cute.
there’s a shiny sparkle in his eyes, it’s glimmer never faltering and he’s just falling in love all over again.
every moment he spent staring at you or your body, he felt that same lump forming in the back of his throat.
“ ‘s this comfy?” he wantonly purrs, caressing the bare flesh of your ass. you cling onto the pillow beside you before giving him a nod.
the slight shuffling you heard was from satoru. his sweats fell to the carpet floor with a loud thud, and his boxers shortly followed afterward.
finally - he could breathe.
his boner was just crying weakly, the tip feeling so hot as it had pearly-white globules of pre-cum wetly darting from all veiny sides.
sighing, satoru wraps a palm around his hardened cock before clicking his tongue while continuing to tease you. “ah- words, sweetheart. y’know how ‘ta use ‘em.”
“y- yes.” and with how whiny your words came out, you mentally slapped yourself.
satoru’s skin was just so close to yours - radiating hot waves of heat against your thighs. within seconds, he’s already enveloping you gradually with his embracing warmth.
pouting and all, you were steadily impatient, and he heard your cute ‘lil sighs of agitation repeating ‘till he lifted your leg.
sideways.
he was gonna take you sideways, and the single thought alone brewed up a flittering feeling of butterflies in your empty tummy.
“haah- missed you all day, have no idea.” satoru inhales through each nostril, bringing his cherry-capped tip towards your weeping entrance.
so … damn … soaked..
as he gawked, he could still taste the sugary-sweet remnants of your essence in his mouth, coating his lips like a natural gloss.
as you’re on your left side, your tits end up smushing against each other. it’s such a pretty sight too, ‘cause not even seconds later, you heard a raspy ‘ohhh fuck’ draw from satoru’s lips.
your pussy was just profusely leaking, and satoru’s holding back all hearty grunts the minute his swollen tip smacked its way against your lustrous-coated slit.
as it sops with nothing but runny molasses of your own colorless slick, your chest sucks in. “ ‘toruuuu, baby- fuckk. don’t tease me,” you’d whimper, quietly huffing at each commencing pap sound of his tip gently hitting against your folds.
he hums, hearing his wet you were - how sloppy you sounded.
satoru’s tip’s an angry red, fuming with a carmine flushing shade and he’s groaning once his vast thumb sinfully brushes past a prominent throbbing vein.
pulse after pulse after fuckin’ pulse, and you’re just making him harder.
“s… shit, you’re right. if i tease you, ‘m just gonna end up makin’ myself finish early, princess.” satoru diffidently chortles, and you hear the pathetic squelch of your pussy begging for him to just shut up and ease his way inside already..
finally - satoru’s making his way inside, ploddingly sinking a few inches inside.
with a few wet ‘fwop’ sloshes, he’s disappearing into you. like always, you’re hugging him tight - dependent on never letting him go.
your pussy’s warmth makes satoru’s glitzed lashes flap shut for a moment, and he’s kissing his teeth. your wetness was taking him to a whole new world almost. it’s almost entirely satisfying at how you’re just swallowing all hefty nth-inches like it was nothing.
as satoru’s trying to carefully fit his way in, he runs a hand down his tummy that’s growing a bit of a pudge. he was starting to develop a dad bod himself.
satoru was still very much fit, but as the years went on—he was eventually starting to get plump, more . . soft.
overtime, he liked being the little spoon in bed. he was really soft - identical to a teddy bear with strong arms wrapping around you. his favorite position to sleep would usually be with his head resting between your chest or on your stomach.
he’s got a trail of white hairs that sprinkled all across his chest like paint splattered on a canvas. a few hairs even made their way toward his chiseled v-line, dashing just below his pelvis. all over his body, he still had multiple scars—scars from countless battles, and he himself always found them unpleasant to look at.
but just like he did for you - you made sure to kiss all of his scars that decorated his skin.
you still felt his sharpened natural abs - they were just a bit softer though.
satoru grunts, stuffing a hand underneath the crack of your bent leg before he’s juuuust about bottomed out.
his rotund base was as full as it’s ever been, and he heard your cute gargled whines trying so hard to conceal themselves.
“hng- pretty mama, don’t . . do that,” he takes stingy puffs of air, gripping firmly against your skin. satoru’s brows come into a furrow, and with the final gushing ‘plap’ alerting you both that he’s stuffed balls deep, satoru phews. “i wanna hear ya, let me- hah- hear that pretty voice f’ me.”
“f- fuuuck.” you moan out, your entire steady body becoming unstable, wriggling like jello with just a single rigid thrust.
satoru’s tip is always nice and wide, and it curves its way around your insides before expanding further and further.
with your leg bent at a near-perfect ninety-degree angle, he’s got you right where he wants you.
his dick’s sliiiiding in and out, and fuck- you felt it all.
satoru’s leaning, still holding up your leg before grunting. your cunt’s oily wetness nearly drove him mad, and you’re just coating him with your slick through and through..
the achy muscles in his lower thigh muscles quickly clench, and satoru’s already starting to feel himself break a sweat.
fuck.
“ngh- ‘toru,” you’d whimper out rawly, the chords in your throat struggling to maintain their natural pitch. he’s just hitting you so deep, swabbing the tip of his cock around your pussy like a q-tip.
it was just so sloppy at how it swirled its way in a circle, leaving you nothing but goosebumps from the inside everytime. he’s deep, stuffing you full with all capped inches of his stretching cock.
as he’s sideways right with you—satoru’s skewing his hips a certain way just so you could feel each delicious pound.
if he kept jackhammering into you like that, you were sure you were gonna start drooling against your fleecy pillowcase within no time.
satoru’s sweaty fingerprints were practically glued in between the crevices of your held-up thigh, and he was letting off sharp raspy breaths after each stroke.
he’s full, groaning as his base thwacks its way back ‘n forth into your dripping pussy. the lewd sounds rang through the four thin walls of the bedroom, and you’re just faintly nibbling on your numbed tongue. “s- so full, mngh- right there baby. keep.. hah- fuckin’ me there.”
“god-” satoru leans in, his chest flatly pressed against yours. he helps you sit upright, and you can now crane your head slightly just to see him through your bleary peripherals again. “right here, princess? right .. fuckin’ .. here?”
he’s sloppily punctuating each thrust with his words that coarsely flew past his lips.
satoru’s shaft had the right kind of lean that made you gasp. the lazy, hanging curve of his cock dragged its way through your cunt and had you whining loudly, filling his ear with constant cacophonies of your cute ‘lil ‘pleaseplease’ ‘s, ‘yesyes’ ‘s, and his personal favorite, ‘satoruuuu.’
with your head vaguely turned, he leans in to kiss you.
it’s barely a kiss - more like a bumpy battle of teeth clashing, because with his delirious thrusts, you could hardly reach against his lips.
between kisses, you heard the mixture of wet moans and hearty ‘i love you’ ‘s fall past both shared lips.
satoru’s sly smile stretches across the corners of his mouth as he’s still pounding you into straight oblivion, making sure every single orifice of yours remembers any incoming inch of his.
“hngh- feels.. so hah- good, baby,” you’d babble, taking a few hastened milliseconds in between to breathe.
it felt like you were racing with your breath, forevermore losing.
satoru’s just ruthless - stretching you wholeheartedly as the bed underneath you both grunted in horror. its creaking competed with the headboard from above which was probably older than time itself.
with this particular angle, he’s hitting you even deeper, and you feel the buds on your tongue preparing to sodden with pools of rich, cloying saliva.
“sato- ah!” you squealed, growing cross-eyed for a second.
right there,
as satoru’s hand still clings onto the opening of your drooping thigh, his tip kisses a direct path near your cervix before that kiss turns into a thrusting smooch.
your mind’s just blank - fog surrounds it, and your voice starts to pitch higher. he’s hitting you there, and satoru hissed at the familiar spongy texture that was trying hard to clamp around him oh-so tight.
the feeling of melting-hot pressure from the very inside of your sopping core makes you let off a cute, ‘oooh’ as he shimmies his hips.
“toru don’t s- stop hittin’ there, please.”
“mng- there she is. found it, didn’t i?” his guttural voice murmurs.
panting harshly—satoru snakes a free arm around your waist, and he gently presses his palm against your belly.
sliding up up up, he adds just a wee bit more pressure to near the exact area he’s reaching inside of you.
his cock’s stupidly long, and it’s continuously locating all the right spots before your mind tirelessly shot blanks. as his dampened fingertips warily graze circles around your heaving tummy, he brings his glimmering lips up to the searing lobe of your ear.
“here, princess?” satoru huffs darkly, his breathing almost animalistic as he lifts your leg even higher.
as you’re sideways, you felt multiple inches of his cock steadily continue to bruise your cervix with a plethora of heart-felt, mean tip-kisses.
your eyes were bulging, lashes batting, mouth dangling wide open. “this is- hah- where you’re weak riiiight? this.. fuckin’ .. spot where ‘m hitting, oh fuckk-” he pauses, his nose wrinkling from the immense sliding stimulation.
“y- yes, there- fuck! ‘toruuu-”
it’s just soooo slick inside you, and satoru’s groaning all up against your ear.
“dirty girl. mngh- pussy can’t.. help but talk back. god, jus’ listen to her, she’s even singing for me ‘n everything. wettest lyrics of a song i’ve ever.. hah- heard,” and as if on cue, the sloshing sounds slosh even louder after each overzealous jam of satoru’s pivoting hips.
you’re stammering on your own words, choking on every shrilling whine and whimper that dared to tug away from your worn-out voice.
satoru’s dick knew each pressure point to hit too.
every. single. one.
after all, if it was anyone who knew your body - it was him.
that included bedaubing his crowned tip near erogenous places. satoru’s easing his way in and out, making not only your heart flutter but your insides too..
it’s one wet whack of skin against each other after another, and all you could do was clamp around his cock and take it like the good girl you were.
with your tummy heaving consistently, it’s doing nothing but sending a horde of nerves all through the axons and nerves that run through your body.
it’s sending staticky signals that are more than enough to make your brain lose a few circuits.
satoru’s berserk-like thrusts were at damn near lightning speed, and he was snickering at each whine that flew past your trembly-glossed lips.
“ ‘toruuuu,” you’d drag out his name, moaning once you felt a few of his thin fingers wisp down your back that’s starting to perspire with tears of sweat.
he’s stretchy, molding the inside of your cunt with each pump of his stiffening cock that’s drilling into your very core.
panting like a greyhound, you’re stunned for a second once satoru lets off a rough groan against the shell of your ear.
his mushroomy tip faultlessly smashed its way against and into your flittering cervix that felt almost heart-shaped—zigzagging its way down before smashing against that pulsating spot again.
he feels it and you feel it too.
“ngh- ‘m gonna cum again,” you’d mewl out, feeling the sliminess of both sweaty bodies slick against each other in raw harmony.
his ramming hips naturally arched into yours, deepening the steep angle even more before hearing you squawk out a tiny warning sob. “cum- ‘m gonna cum, sato—mmngh!”
as satoru’s still holding you from your side, you’re hit with a multitude of elated emotions. you’re clamping down on him tightly, feeling your legs grow limp within seconds.
sloppily, your pussy squeaking wetly between your open thighs as you cream all down his shaft, creating nothing more than a miry, slippery mess..
your cheek presses against the middle part of your pillow as you’re spasming underneath him, whining out the same ragged, incoherent babbles.
“satoru, s- satoru,” you’d coo out, hearing his huffing puffs of air from behind you.
satoru slows himself down, wrapping soft arms around your torso as you ride out your orgasm.
with your hips still feebly stuttering back against him—it left the sweetest taste in your mouth.
all over, you felt overly sensitive - and satoru could feel your body succumbing in pleasure and defeat within his firm hold.
he held you close, brushing a thumb around your navel before whispering murmurs of, ‘there we go’ ‘s or, ‘i gotcha,’ ‘s.
“fuck, such a good sloppy girl,” he flips you over, still entirely buried inside of your clenching cunt. satoru brings his quivering lips toward yours, giving you kisses before speaking in between rushed, humid smacks. “hah- you okay, princess?”
“mhm.” you nod, crawling your way on top of him. satoru has a sheepish grin, and he does a quick peer down at your body.
damn.
the first thought that would always pop into his mind whenever his eyes landed on you—his wife’s perfect body.
they’d trail down down down, stopping at your plush thighs before darting right back up towards your face. his thumbs gently caressed near the familiar marks that creased faintly against your thighs before he sneaks a kiss near your relaxing jaw.
“heh- think the missus is gettin’ a bit cocky today, no?” satoru jibes a toothy smile once he watches you straddle him, bringing an open palm to the left cheek of your ass, grabbing a bit of skin.
you nearly slipped off a sultry-sounding moan at his sudden touch but cutely grumbled, making him lie back with a flick of your finger before attacking the crook of his neck with wet kisses.
“oh.. my, aren’t you a frisky one today.”
“shut up, ‘toru.”
“hmph. you’re kinda mean when you’re horny, princess.. sexy.”
☆ ☆ ☆
it’s probably been hours - satoru’s had you in any and every position possible, showering every part of your body with its favorite combination of kisses ‘n compliments.
he just couldn’t help it.
especially when you just looked so effortlessly pretty like that underneath him.
currently, he had you in a mating press and oh-
as he’s on top of you—satoru gets lost in your lust-filled gaze. your eyes, they were like some sort of maze he could never find the exit from.
he’s much slower with his rhythm this time, cupping two palms underneath your thighs as he’s gradually feeding your cunt stroke after stroke. both pounds of skin ricocheted against each other, noisily papping as the clashing of grinding bodies continued.
your cunt’s just drooling, leaking with endless amounts of buttery clods of his sticky, hot cum. it dribbles out of your gummed slit, creating a frothy white ring around his base as his hips continue to wedge into your sopping wet pussy.
“ ‘toru- oh, satoru—ooh!” you’d squeal out, digging the edges of nails into his bare shoulder.
satoru’s grunting lowly against your neck, using a hand to bring both knees up to your chest. “haah- c’mon, princess. ‘m still not done fillin’ ya yet, gotta get this tummy nice ‘n plump,” and as his kiss-bitten lips hover against yours, he’s pouting.
satoru squeezes one of your tits before huffing. “these too. n- need to see ‘em full again, so fuckin’ full.”
satoru’s competing pitchy moans with you, each sound laced with nothing but lust and utter carnal desire.
from the inside, you had a sticky grip on him that had him utterly whipped.
satoru’s crimsoned tip spiraled its way around your cunt before sloppily thrashing its way against the convulsing nub of your pulsating clit.
leisurely, it batters its way toward that spot repeatedly until you’re just short-circuiting on his cock once again. “hngh- satoru, ohmygoddd,” you’d hysterically sob out, feeling his big hand cup underneath your chin.
your chin’s slick, and you were messily salivating a bit as he continued. moments later—satoru slips his middle finger inside of your mouth and you moaned, sucking it without a single given thought. “m- mhm.”
“good girl,” he groans, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as his rickety pace picked up its quickening speed.
satoru’s hips were just downright rude, and he was just trying to savor each clasping clap of skin that he possibly could.
you looked so pretty with half-lidded eyes and webby clear strings of your saliva damply cascading down the sides of your lips.
“ ‘m gonna cum, sweetheart. you’re gonna . . hah- make me fuckin’ cuuum-” and you could hear solely from the tone of his voice, it was turning shaky.
each gasping syllable - it’s struggling desperately to hang on, faltering at each delivery of the next word that spills from his sleek lips.
“mng-” your moan, and satoru hummed before snatching his digit back from between your lips. he leans in to kiss you, delving his hot tongue straight into your mouth.
he’s hungry, demanding access as the tip of the pink muscle circles its way around the inside of your mouth.
it brushes against your flat tongue before his teeth greet your lips once more—giving it a needy ‘let me in’ gnaw. you part your lips so he could have more access, and satoru moans into your mouth.
“satoru, ‘m gonna cum too-” you breathlessly admit, briefly seeing splotches of white once your eyes mindlessly roll back on their own.
he’s so biiiig, stretching you to the very fullest ‘till the very end.
as your legs sporadically shook, you’re letting off sweet hurried gasps once you felt his cock expanding through your guts yet again.
you’re feeling butterflies scatter inside you everywhere, and not once did that familiar pool of heat sensation subside.
instead, it grows stronger and hotter, and you’re mentally fanning yourself as his engorged tip surprises your cervix for the umpteenth time.
it's constant - it happens more than once and it always always always feels like the first fuckin’ time.
his cock’s still leaking from his recent non-stop releases, and blood’s starting to rush to satoru’s head.
raucous, fast-paced breaths wafted against both opened mouths as satoru’s cock attentively drills into your inviting cunt at a more weakened speed.
he’s literally drowning in your pussy, your slick wetness his ultimate weakness.
as weak arms wrap around his neck, you brush a thumb down his undercut — earning a soft whiny, “h.. hey,” snatch from his lips.
satoru’s body was damn near smushed over yours nearly crushed you with his soft squishing weight.
still, though, he’s making sure to hover to where he wasn’t crushing you fully - having his rounded tummy grinding back ‘n forth against your body. as his body rubs its way onto yours after each stroke, you felt satoru’s noticeable happy trail tickle against the outer entrance of your cunt.
“ugh-” satoru sucks in a delayed breath, pressing his forehead against yours.
weakly, his knees began to fatally buckle as his nearly-drained cock’s still pushing its way through your squeezing pussy.
the build up of it all was just utterly blissful.
satoru’s shallow breath gets taken away from him like that, and he could feel himself going limp the microsecond his dick’s starting to spray inside you. “oh fuck, oh f- fuuuck.”
he grumbles, delicately sinking his teeth into your neck. he’s swallowing hard, losing all sorts of composure as his limbs start to quit functioning as if it was some sort of machine.
your finish shortly comes after too, but you end up gushing this time - and not just between your legs.
satoru hears your sweet surprised yelps before looking down, noticing your perked nipples were a bit more hardened than usual. they looked swollen - more plump than usual, and shiny.
you’re squirting down his cock, hearing the lewd squelches confirm that very fact as you even leak a bit from the centres of your nipples.
“holy shit-,” satoru blinks, and embarrassment interrupts your high almost right away.
your first instinct was to cover your face, and satoru leans in between the valley of your chest. your orgasm was so powerful that you ended up getting milked out yourself - literally.
cautiously, he slides his tongue around one of your nipples that’s dribbling with treacly dewdrops of white sweetness. it’s not even a lot, but it’s just enough because he purrs against your skin once the creamy taste hits the buds of his tongue.
“mmng-” and as he’s still pumping probably the fifth load into you, your cunt ends up clenching around him - wringing him so damn dry.
satoru’s taking turns sucking both of your plump tits, savoring the taste before his half-open eyes land on you.
he’s sloppy - encircling the tip of his sticky tongue over the ring of each tit before ‘popping’ one nipple after another from his lips.
satoru’s sweating, and he’s panting even more after your cute ‘lil outburst.
a gooey ring of cum bubbles around the thick base of his cock as he’s still stuffed inside you deep, but he wasn’t even thinking about that anymore.
sighing, he rubs the back pad of his thumb against one of your nipples that was still slightly leaking before he laps it right up, staring at you intently the entire time. his cum’s still spilling out, splattering on your tummy with his tip a fiery red.
“mmh, that’s hah- new. didn’t know you were still ah- leaking, princess. i have that much of an effect on you?”
“s.. shut up-” you moaned, your body still trying to get over its recent climax.
between the arc of your chest — you’re covered with sweat too. satoru hums to himself, tending to each breast before gently grabbing your chin.
“ ‘m guessing that’s a sign that you’re havin’ your seasonal baby fever again, yeah?” satoru smugly grins, feeling your body faintly twitching underneath him. “uh oh.”
his tongue against your tender nipples felt so good that it took you a while to generate a response in your brain that was just short-circuited completely.
deadpanning, you let off a grumbling, “obviously, satoru.”
“sorry, sorrrrry!” he huffs, pressing a kiss to your lips. you whimpered against his lips as his thumbs still tickled against each spurting nipple while his tongue curled around the inside of your mouth.
his touch was always soft, leaving you breathless every time.
your cunt’s overflowed with cum though - and even as his lips glued against yours, you could feel the slippery milky masses stream down from your slick, foaming against both pairs of stilled skin.
everything feels so hot - but satoru’s breath colliding against your tongue felt even hotter.
he’s just so enamored by you, and he can’t help but softly reach for your wrist.
“mng- satoru..” you whined against smacking pairs of lips, strings of loose saliva threatening to tear apart slickly.
“shh,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips to grab onto your hand.
he turns it around, bringing it toward his lips before pressing a single wet kiss against the back of your index finger.
there - your wedding ring beamed bright, brighter than any gem as his lips stamped against the tiny individual diamonds that made up the pricey rock.
you felt your heart flutter, watching silently as he starts to kiss your wedding ring again, again, and again, and again. .
“hah- that’s how many more babies we’re gonna make.”
one … two … three … f-
as you were trying to count in your head, satoru cheekily hummed before cocking his head. “heh, better get started.” and you moaned for a final time, hearing his cock wetly slide its way from your cum-filled cunt.
filthily, such creamed amounts ooze out of you and he hears the pretty sloshes commence not even seconds later. satoru then presses his silver wedding ring against your bare stomach before giving you one final kiss.
glancing up at you teasingly, satoru smacks the swollen crown head of his cock against your folds.
“now.. c’mon, mama gojo. upsie hah- daisy,” satoru throatily grunts, pushing your knees right back up to their initial position.
he just wanted to kiss the cute pout off your lips.
your thighs still shook—and satoru huffs heavily, bringing one hand to squeeze your breast, another easing his fat crowned tip inside of your sobbing pussy.
“let those legs stretch for me one more time. attaaaa girl. tha’s my girl-”
and as gojo leans in to press a soft kiss against your tummy, he hums.
“heh- we’ve got a loooot of mini gojos to make, mommy.”
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misfit-megumi · 1 year ago
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OPEN ARMS, OPEN EYES ┊ GOJO SATORU
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tags: GN reader, no curse au, meet-cute, gojo has a visual impairment (modern take on his six eyes), the divine dogs are service animals (seeing-eye dogs), original child character, reader is babysitting, fluff + flirting, (takes place in my foster dad au)
wc: 3k
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Overhead, the bell rings a soft welcome. You quickly shuffle Kota out of the drizzle and into the warm embrace of the cafe. A full staccato can be heard over the soothing music as the wind begins to whip the rainfall against the windows. You sigh, having escaped the worst of it.
Kota squirms, his pink face scrunched into a glare as you bend to undo the buttons tucked beneath his chin and let down his raincoat hood. Free from the nylon confines he shakes out his hair and swipes at the strands stuck to his damp forehead with a whine.
“I know little man,” you murmur placatingly, reaching for the napkins on the nearby condiment bar. You pat his skin dry from his cheeks to his neck, and then under his cuffs around his wrists. His sniffling has allayed, to your relief. “Is that better?”
When he doesn’t answer you look up and find him entranced by something across the threshold. You follow his line of sight and feel the breath stolen from your lungs.
The stranger is imposing and beautiful in a way that is hard to look at; yet it’s the intense air of confidence and ease about him that makes it impossible for you to look away. Standing tall at the counter he’s all slender angles and fluid movements in his fitted white dress-shirt, rocking on his heels as he waits.
The shelves fixed to the wall behind the counters are littered with decorative trinkets doused in warm-gold light that crowns his white hair like a halo. Everyone’s focus has gravitated toward him, so much so that they don’t appear to notice the large black dog at his feet.
Kota, however, paid the man no attention. Instead his chubby fingers curled around your shirtsleeve to tug insistently at your arm, “Puppy!”
There’s a blue padded harness strapped to the dog’s torso, ‘assistance’ printed in bold reflective letters across the chest and along the adjustable handle. Their body language shows that they’re comfortable but alert, ears standing tall and twitching in Kota’s direction. Kota, who has managed to free himself from your grip.
And is tottering towards the service dog.
You rise to stand and amble after him, frantically whispering his name. “Kota—no. You can’t pet the dog,” your arm scoops around his belly to keep him from tripping as you grab the back of his coat and gather him to your front. The boy stomps his foot and whines, forcing his body pliant in protest and becoming deadweight.
Nervous about causing a disturbance you survey the surroundings. Nobody stirs. A woman and her two young children are seated nearby, and she offers you a sympathetic smile. You grimace, steadying Kota on his feet.
“But I wan’a pet the puppy,” Kota warbles, making grabbing motions toward the dog.
“You can’t sweetheart. Look,” you run a soothing hand down his back. Bringing him close you point at the blue harness. “See what they’re wearing? Can you read that word?”
Kota’s brow knits in concentration. “S’big word,” he says. You smile at his seriousness and suppress the urge to squeeze him.
“That word says ‘assistance’,” and he repeats it with imprecise intonation, thrice before he’s satisfied. “That’s right,” you praise him, sneaking a kiss to his temple. A frisson of happiness has him burying into the crook of your neck. “Do you know what it means when an animal is wearing a coat like that?”
Kota shakes his head.
“It means,” you cast a quick glance to the owner and almost swallow your tongue. His face is angled in your direction, as if listening in on your conversation, though his eyes are well hidden behind a dark pair of glasses. “It means that dog is working. They have a very important job to do, so we can’t interrupt them. It would be bad if they got distracted, right?”
Kota thinks long and hard about this. A litany of emotions wash over his expression. It ranges from confusion, to petulance and sadness, then finally, acceptance. “Yeah. Okay,” he nods, staring longingly at the fluffy tail sweeping back and forth across the tiles.
“Good. Now you’ve learned something new today. You can tell your parents all about it once I get you home,” you stand straight and brush down the front of your jeans. “How about we get some cream puffs to celebrate once it’s dry out, hm?”
“Yeah!”
The disruption thankfully hadn’t bothered the dog. You watch as the man drops his hand to his hip and they immediately nuzzle into the touch. “Good girl,” you hear him croon as his fingers crook behind her ear. Then he cocks his head and a pair of lustrous eyes are visible over his opaque, round-rimmed glasses.
Hair prickles on the nape of your neck. His stare settles just beyond your shoulder. The pigment in each iris is oddly dispersed and startlingly light, a clear blue with infinite depth, as if they were plucked right from a celestial body. “Thanks for keeping him on a leash,” he tells you with teasing cadence, mouth curled into a smile. Kota gives an affronted grumble and you laugh, combing your fingers through baby-soft hair.
The man inclines toward Kota, “Her name is Maya, by the way. You can’t pet her but you can say hello”.
Enthralled at this development Kota bends his knees in an bouncy little dance. “Maya-chan. Hi. My name is Kota,” he gurgles, hands covering his cheeks. Maya simply snuffled, a long tongue licking at her snout, and shifted on her front paws.
The attractive stranger nudges his dark glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. He wets his lips. “And what’s your name?”
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realise he is asking you. Rattled by the prolonged silence you set your sights firmly on Kota and clear your throat to introduce yourself, “It’s nice to meet you”.
“Yeah? I don't get to hear that too often,” he replies, mouth thin as if fighting a broader smile. It’s a lovely shade of balmy pink. “I’m—”
“Gojo-san?”
The barista glances up from reading the name on the ticket, visibly flustered that he interrupted. “I’m sorry. Your drinks are ready,” he makes an aborted motion to hand the tray over and then seizes. “Ah—would you like me to take this to your table, Gojo-san?”
“That’d be great,” nothing about Gojo’s visage, nor his posture, changes. You feel pinned under his broad scrutiny. Anticipation swoops through your stomach as he angles his gaze in Maya’s direction, where Kota remains besotted. “Y’know, my other dog is here too. She’s actually retired now, so you can come and pet her if you want, Kota-kun”.
You balk. This guy.
“Yeah!” Kota effuses, crashing into your legs. He pats at your thighs. “Please. Can I, can I?”
You cast a lingering glance at the poor weather, a sheet of rain obscuring the view to the street, and ponder what Kota’s parents would want. As he’s an only child they’ve expressed their desire to get a pet in the near future. It could be a good lesson for him, and you have nothing to do until the shower calms.
“That's—kind of you. If it’s no trouble…?”
“Wouldn’t offer if it was,” Gojo replies. You are at least reassured by the fact that he doesn’t sound all that put-out. More than anything he looks pleased, like the cat that got the cream. He gestures toward the poor barista, waiting to the side with fingers flexing around the tray handles.
You nudge the little boy, “What do you say?”
Kota takes a deep breath, the air pushing out his cheeks. He bows, hair falling over his eyes, and gives an emphatic: “Thank you!”
Gojo’s runs a hand through his hair. It looks silky. A smooth glide, no tangles caught on his knuckles. Then he rolls his shoulders, expression schooled into something comically serious. “In that case I’m going to need you to do something, Kota-kun,” he says.
The tone has Kota’s spine ramrod straight. “This guy here is going to my table. Think you can walk behind him and lead the way for Maya?”
Kota’s eyes are wide and sparkling. He vibrates at the promise of responsibility. You observe the exchange with an odd fondness. Gojo is a stranger. Yet he has somehow has managed to win over the most stubborn kid you know.
“Maya,” he kisses his teeth. Maya rises to attention, locking onto her owner while he readjusts his grip on the harness handle. She tracks the movement of his free hand through the air as it comes to lightly tap Kota’s shoulder. “Follow,” he states.
Spurred into action as though commanded himself, the barista leaves to find Gojo’s table. Kota looks to you seeking permission. You nod and he wanders closely after the man on his little legs, glancing back every few seconds, brighter each time he notices Maya trotting onward at his heel.
Gojo’s gait is languid and purposefully slow. There's buoyancy to him as he navigates the space, trusting Maya completely to get to their destination. You walk a suitable distance from his side, inwardly dithering and unsure whether or not to push aside the few chairs obstructing the path. Maya doesn’t appear concerned. You’d hate to break her focus.
She takes Gojo deeper into the cafe with confidence. Tucked away in an alcove at the back of the room is a booth. In the booth is another dark haired boy, much older than Kota, around twelve or thirteen if you had to guess, and curled under the table is another large dog.
The boy is not impressed in the slightest. He frowns at the sight of you and Kota, disgruntled. Thoughts visibly pass over his face and whatever conclusion he comes to he glares up at Gojo for it.
As the barista sets down the tray of drinks the cups rattle against their respective saucers. He bows and slips away. Kota is beginning to squirm again. You can tell his patience is waning.
“I’m being glared at, aren’t I?” comes Gojo’s amused murmur. Though the boy’s ire isn’t directed at you it feels awkward to be in the line of fire.
“You are,” you reply, pinching the back of Kota’s hood to prevent him from diving under the table. “Are you sure this is fine? If your son isn’t—”
Gojo waves his hand as he strides forward, carefully resting it on the backrest of the cushions and he uses it to pivot himself into the booth. “Not my son. More like a nephew, or something. Right, Megumi?” the boy—presumably Megumi—flares his turned up nose and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Or something,” he says.
“Maya,” Gojo continues in a clear voice. “Down,” Maya is deliberate in where she rests, remaining within his reach. “Stay,” her paws cross one over the other, and she rests her chin atop her wrists. When she’s settled, he coos another, “Good girl”.
Maya’s tail swishes happily. Megumi grunts. “Don’t be like that, Megumi. The kid only wanted to meet Ren,” Gojo drawls. At the mention of her name Ren crawls out from under the table seeking attention. “Why don’t you show Kota-kun how to pet her?”
“Why me?”
“You’re older. Set an example,” Gojo rests his cheek in his palm, taking his glasses off to hook them on the end of his slender finger. Those startling eyes drag aimlessly over your form as he sighs, “Tsumiki would be so disappointed if she knew”.
At that Megumi’s arms drop in deference. He scoots out of his seat and coaxes Ren to sit. She’s a lovely dog, and big, with a luscious thick white coat and soulful eyes. He sticks his hand out, expression a complex mix of boredom and determination. Like he didn’t want to do it, but if he really had to, he wanted to do it well. “Kota-kun, right? Give me your hand,” he says.
Kota bounces on his toes and obediently drops his hand into the older boy’s. “You have to let animals smell you first. Let them decide if they want to be touched,” Megumi guides it toward Ren, proffered and upturned for her to scent. She nuzzles into Kota’s small palm and licks it for good measure, making him squeal.
Gojo melts into the booth cushion, entirely mellowed out. You stare at his profile, appreciating the soft line of his cheekbone right to the shell of his ear, just peeking out under fluffy white hair; lightly cow licked at the ends from the rain, curling right around the stud in his earlobe.
Feeling the weight of your gaze his eyes slide over and you quickly turn away. In the seconds you spent distracted Megumi has shown Kota where Ren likes to be scratched the most. Kota beams as he strokes down her flank, making her tongue loll out and her hind leg reflexively twitch.
You clear your throat. “She’s very pretty isn't she?” you muse, bending to Kota’s height and smiling gently at Megumi. Ren’s warm puffs of breath fan over your fingers as you let her smell them. “Is she the same breed as Maya-chan?”
“Yeah. They’re cousins,” Megumi answers stiffly. There’s a tinge of pink in Megumi’s cheeks now as he buries his hand in Ren’s fur, vying for reason not to look directly at you. “We’re letting them spend time together before we send Ren away”.
“Eh?” Kota’s bottom lip wobbles. His head whips around to Gojo, “Away?”
“Not like that,” you quietly reassured.
Gojo crossed his ankles under the table and reclined with his royal milk tea, wisps of steam curling over the rim. “Ren is too old to do her job now,” he smiles behind the cup, “She’s going to live with a good friend of mine and his two sons. Don’t worry”.
This comforts Kota a bit. “What, um,” he pats Ren’s face, and your heart aches, because he’s being so uncharacteristically gentle. “Maya-chan really has a job?”
“She really does”.
“But babies can’t work,” Kota beseeches. “Mama told me so”.
Megumi huffs, though you think it’s more of a laugh. “Maya isn’t a baby and she isn’t a puppy anymore either,” he says. The proud gleam in his gaze doesn’t escape you as he points at the younger dog. “She’s the best of her litter. I helped pick her”.
“Megumi has a good eye for that kinda thing,” Gojo sets down his cup and gestures to his uncovered eyes, framed by pale and unfairly long eyelashes. You are secretly grateful for the excuse to look at them again. “My eyes? Not so much. That’s what I have Maya for—and Ren before her. She helps me get around”.
Kota’s jaw slacks and he makes a long, drawn out sound of understanding. Ren bounces from paw to paw and you marvel at just how good she is with him. Calm, and attentive. Reacting whenever he reacts. Remnants of her training that she’d likely never lose.
“Go—go…”
“Gojo-san,” you prompt gently as Kota’s brow knits in that very familiar ‘I-don’t-want-to-cry’ manner.
“Gojo-san,” he tries again. “M’sorry your eyes don’t work good”.
Mortification washes over you. “Kota, sweetheart. You can’t just say that—”
Gojo barks a laugh loud enough to draw the attention of onlookers. While he remains unaffected, growing evermore amused, you shy away from their curious stares with a grimace. “Don’t worry. He meant no harm,” he says. “And look, it’s not that I can’t see anything. Want to know something cool?”
Megumi sighs indolently and you suspect he’s heard this spiel before. Kota unfurls from his brief flinch and nods. Gojo tips his chin and bends forward. Kota stares right into his lucent eyes, mesmerised.
“I can see shapes. To me you’re just a weird smudge,” Kota giggles from behind his hands as Gojo pretends to wet his thumb and makes a rubbing motion, like he were wiping Kota from his vision. “But I have too much pressure inside of my eyes. So I don’t just see shapes,” Gojo leans closer and lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, “I see colours around things, like when you squeeze your eyes shut real tight”.
“Woah,” Kota breathes. His fingers clench and unclench where they’re clutched around his coat. “What colour am I?”
The older man decides to entertain the question and pauses to consider Kota with a ruminative hum. You find yourself waiting with bated breath, a shamefully scant portion of your brain focused on the vibration from your jacket pocket. Numbness is spreading up your feet to your calves, knelt on them for too long, but you don’t want to disturb the atmosphere.
“Red,” Gojo answers decisively.
Kota covers his mouth. He swivels on his heels to find you. “That’s my favourite colour!”
“It is,” you echo as you rub his shoulder, your tone gentle and indulgent. Your phone buzzes again and you slip it out from your pocket to check the screen. “Ah,” a brief glance toward the cafe window informs you that the rain has mostly stopped. Gold slats of sunlight are flooding the wet pavement. “It’s your parents, little man. They’ll be expecting us home soon so say your goodbyes”.
“No”.
“Kota”.
A stubborn beat passes. Sulking, Kota is deliberate and slow while he gives Ren a final stroke. “Bye bye, Ren, Maya-chan. Bye bye Megumi-nii. Bye bye Gojo-san”.
“Sure,” Megumi chokes somewhat at the honorific. “See you, Kota-kun”.
Gojo listens to the interaction with a smile. Close lipped and genuine. Though small the weight of it causes his eyes to crinkle slightly at the corners. “It doesn’t have to be goodbye forever,” he suggests.
You hesitate, “Meaning…?”
“If we exchanged numbers then Kota-kun could keep in touch with Maya and Ren. I’ll send cute pictures”.
Megumi scoffs and it makes the blood prickle under your skin. Your face feels hot. “Right. For Kota,” you reply dryly, mouth trembling as you valiantly try to keep the smile out of your voice. He must sense it anyway, because his own widens and he holds his phone out to you.
Kota claps excitedly while you input your name and number. “And how do I know you’re not a bad guy?” you ask, saving the details before closing out the app and handing the phone back.
“I pinky promise?”
Shaking your head amusedly you fix Kota’s coat collar, refastening the buttons before petting Ren farewell. “I suppose I’ll take your word for it,” you tell him. “Thanks again, for letting Kota meet the dogs”.
“My pleasure,” Gojo returns.
“I’ll—we’ll be seeing you, then,” you wave at Megumi, directing Kota toward the front of the cafe. Gojo drapes his lithe body over the table surface and rests his chin to his hand, as if watching you go.
“I’ll text you,” he chimes after you. People lift their heads as you scurry through to the entrance.
What have you gotten yourself into?
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chastiefoul · 2 months ago
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how they'd react when you wanted to sleep on the couch... just because.
fluff. light-hearted ft. gojo, nanami, sukuna, suguru, toji, choso
satoru
“baby scooch over.” a whispered voice along with a gentle nudge on the shoulder woke you from your dozed off state. “hmm?” you mumbled out, blinking your terribly heavy lids open although to no avail they’re begging to keep themselves shut. satoru glanced at you with a frown on his eyes with a pillow held close to his body. “scooch over baby,” he pleaded, kneeling beside the couch you’re currently lying on.
“go back to bed toru,” you said softly, tugging your blanket closer. “but you’re not there,” he whined, intertwining his hand with yours as he attacked it with kisses, not letting you go back to sleep, especially if it’s without him. “i thought you said you’re going to be fine?” you asked, jogging the memory of him being all smug while saying you could do whatever you wanted. “that was not me, i would never say that,” he said promptly and goodness you didn’t know before someone’s lips could turned that much downward. you chuckled breathily, knowing this will happen sooner or later.
you scooted over on the big couch, leaving him the space he’d been begging for. you could have sworn you heard a squeal before you’re wrapped in satoru’s warm hold, his head resting snugly atop of yours. “no sleeping on here anymore. not without me,” he said into your hair, kissing it softly.
nanami
“but why, love?” he asked, having a hard time comprehending your wish to sleep alone on the living room only because... you randomly wanted to? you chuckled looking at his bewildered face, an expression of someone who’s probably racking his brain upside down thinking that he’s done something wrong. “ken, i promise it’s just because i feel like it and no reason other than that.” you cupped his face, planting a soft kiss on his nose.
nanami looked a little relieved, albeit sullen, hesitant in asking whether he could invite himself in or you wanted a little time for yourself. and when it’s finally time to sleep it’s becoming more obvious that your lover wasn’t going to make it easy for you.
“need any more blanket honey?” he asked tapping the head of the couch as he stood there a tad nervous, knowing full well you got everything you needed since he insisted to be the one to prepare it. pillows, blanket, a hot drink, he’s got it all for you. “i’m perfect here, ken. you can go to bed,” you said with a reassuring smile, yet it did the opposite effect to the man.
“can i be here until you sleep, my love? it’s just that i feel like i wouldn’t be able to rest properly until i see you do the same.” he stroke your cheek softly with his thumb, and when you leaned into his touch he knew he’s gone for you. that there’s no way he could be asleep if he went back to the bedroom in that moment—unless you’re with him, of course. though, he didn’t say this, he just continued combing through your strands of hair, loving the peaceful expression on your face.
and unfortunately for the blond man, when it comes to these things his thoughts were written all over his face. you already caught on the fact that he wanted to lie down with you there yet his wish in prioritizing your wants refrained him from speaking his. you laughed a little, feeling a burst of fondness towards the tall man.
“on a second thought, can you sleep here with me ken?” he moved as quick as the sentence ended, already making his way under the blanket. he sneaked a hand around your waist, pressing your body closer against him. “i was kind of hoping you’d ask,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. you snuggled closer to his chest, feeling utmost comfort as he rubbed your back gently.
“i know.”
sukuna
not even ten minutes in trying to sleep on the said couch, sukuna had already carried you back towards your shared bedroom.
“but-“
“no.”
he put you on the bed gently, then he draped a blanket over as he tucked you in. sukuna has that look of a man who’s determined in keeping you there, and you already knew it’s a fight you could not win thus, you turned for another plan instead: pouting.
even until he got beside you as he rested his big hand on your stomach, you refused to look at him, crossing your hands in front of your chest. he sighed, “give me one good reason i should let you sleep out there,” he said exasperatedly. “cause i want some me time?” you claimed. even you weren’t sure why you’re battling him so hard on this.
“then have it here in this bed with me. you’ll get all cold later and cling to me later anyways. i’m just speeding up the process.” he replied, already closing his eyes.
“what a strange way of saying you couldn’t sleep without me,” you said, with a grin on your face. the feeling of his thumb moving against your skin brought you immense comfort, your impulsive plan long forgotten.
“if you already knew that then quit making it harder for me, brat.”
toji
he stared at you who’s already making yourself comfortable on the couch, amused. “looking cozy there,” he said with a grin, a face of someone who’s up to no good. “yeah, it’s actually not ba-“ the sentence was cut off was your own squeal, toji had picked you up as he took your lying down position and put you top of him.
“you could’ve just asked first!” you fumed, hitting his bicep—which did more to you and it did him, how could one even get their muscle to be as hard as that? he just chuckled in response, putting a hand around your waist. “sorry doll, got too excited,” he said lazily, already seemed all happy, like he had all he needed.
and he did, with you close to him resting your head on his chest, knowing that you loved counting his heartbeat. the man was truly content.
“we really should get a bigger couch,” you mumbled. we should get everything you wanted, toji thought. but it’d be a bit much to say in the moment so instead he just continued rubbing your sides until you dozed off, plunging into the dream land.
“sleep.”
suguru
“whatcha got there baby?” he asked, an easy smile on his face. there’s really no day with you where you didn’t make him tilt his head questioningly. “’m going to sleep here tonight,” you said, fluffing the pillow before lying down on it comfortably.
“okay, where’s mine then?”
“your what?”
“my pillow. you didn’t bring mine along yours?”
“oh well i just thought you’d want to sleep in the bed anyway?” you replied, and suguru looked like you just insulted him deeply. the couch dipped, he then lied down beside you on the same pillow, making him extra close as he embraced you. “i sleep where you sleep baby, you make me this way. i can no longer rest when i don’t get to hold you close like this,” he said softly, tucking your hair behind your ear.
you have a big smile on your face as he said this, inhaling his familiar scent as you put your arms around him. “that better not be a complaint,” you said, cuddling closer to the man.
“never.” he kissed your temple.
choso
it seriously look like it killed him when he had to walk away from the room, leaving you to sleep by yourself on the couch. his steps were excruciatingly slow, taking as much time as he could in case you changed your mind.
“cho?” you almost laughed looking at the way he perked up, a hopeful expression on his face. “can you turn off the light on your way?” and it almost felt too cruel the way the sparkle on his eyes dimmed, his shoulders beyond slumped. he then practically had to drag his own feet before letting out a small nod.
you chuckled, couldn’t keep up with the teasing anymore. “i’m kidding baby, do you wanna get in here?” you lifted up the blanket, patting the empty space next to you. it was the fastest you’ve ever seen him, as he’s beside you in no time.
he clinged to you tightly, like he’s making sure as much of his skin made contact with yours, a satisfied smile on his face. his hair tickled your neck nicely, as you traced the area below his eye with back of your finger.
“next time you want something just ask, cho.”
13K notes · View notes
luvsupa · 4 months ago
Text
LET’S KEEP IT PROFESSIONAL. . .?
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𝜗𝜚 summary: where jjk men want you at the wrong place and wrong time… feat. gojo, geto, choso, nanami (seperate).
tags: fem!reader, pwp,smut, (p in v), ōral sex (f! receiving), lactation kink .. (gojo), gojos a king and he’s OBESSED w you, public sex, car sex, riding, sub men (ish), dirty talk, praise, hair pulling, getting caught, mentions of pregnancy (nanami), slight bimbo reader x choso, ummm dunno what else to add … mdni
w.c: 5,3k
a/n: THANK YOU GUYS SOSOS MUCH FOR 2K AND 2.1K!! IM SO THANKFUL FOR ALL OF YOUUUUUU^^^ HERES A 2K SPECIAL FOR YOU GUYSS MWAAA <33
+ there might be errors errrrr….
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GOJO SATORU
“gojo-sama,” the family in front of you scolds, trying to get his full attention. the royal family has come to your estate to propose a business alliance—a union with the well-known gojo clan.
gojo has you seated prettily on his lap on his golden cushioned throne, in full view of the royal family and advisors. halfway through the meeting, he loses interest, he has little concern for these meetings—all he truly wants is to be with you and your newborn daughter.
it was nearly impossible for him to focus, your scent envelops him, clouding his thoughts, leaving only you in his mind. his lower lip quivers as you shift against his hardening cock. he struggles to maintain composure but can’t resist trailing soft kisses along your neck. one large hand caresses your once pregnant belly while you fight to keep your gaze steady in front of the royal family.
your eyes flutter, heart racing as you realize he cannot possibly be doing this now. below, the murmurs of the guests fade away as his heated kisses press against your skin. he hums deeply, almost moaning with each kiss, savouring the softness of your body. his glossed lips leave marks along your neck, gleaming in the natural light, a clear display of his desire.
“ngh—’toru. . .continue. . . later,” you whisper, struggling to suppress a moan as gojo’s other hand kneads your plump breasts through the kimono. the soreness from weeks wroth of nursing makes each touch electric. the king below stares, while the guards exchange knowing glances, accustomed to gojo’s actions.
“gojo-sama, we ask that you—”
“hahh, look at that—you’re leaking,” gojo murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he watches your milk seep through the thin fabric of your kimono, a damp spot growing with each teasing stroke of his fingers over your sensitive nipple. your head falls back onto his shoulder, eyes closing in embarrassment ,unable to face the audience.
shamelessly, gojo’s hand on your tummy snakes lower between your shaky thighs. he smiles knowingly as you’re bare underneath, warmth radiating from you. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s made you this wet, you blame it on hormonal imbalances.
gojo’s slender fingers part your swollen folds, sending shudders through your body with his icy touch as he rubs gentle circles on your nub. you moan, not caring how loud you are, overwhelmed by his fingers toying with your nipples and clit—all while numerous pairs of eyes remain glued to both of you.
“what’s gotcha’ this drenched, baby? have i not satisfied you enough?” gojo spills out nonsense, even though he satisfies you too much. he spoils you rotten, always going above and beyond—no matter when or where.
“tell me what i need to do, precious,” he begs as his fingers slide into your slick cunt. you both gasp, his long fingers sucked in tightly by your needy walls. your eyes flutter open to see your breasts leaking uncontrollably as he pinches and twists your poor nipples.
your hips buck wildly, greedily taking in more of his thick fingers as your walls cling tightly to him, massaging your sweet spot with every curl and press. you sob, breaths coming in ragged gasps, eyes glossy as you glance at the guests through blurred vision. each breath is a shaky exhale, mingling with soft whimpers as gojo’s cock throbs, pulsating with each of your desperate thrusts—it aches painfully with need. his fingers work relentlessly, coaxing more cries from your lips. your chest heaves with every breath, the sound of your panting filling the room. 
“gojo-sama, take your wife out of here! she’s a clear disruption—” the king shouts, but falters as gojo’s icy gaze locks onto his, sending a chilling wave through him. fear creeps into the king’s eyes, and he immediately regrets his words.
in the blink of an eye, gojo places you gently onto the cushioned throne, your eyes fluttering in confusion as you look up to see him towering over you. before you can speak, he drops to his knees, his face inches from your drooling cunt.
he bunches up your kimono to your waist for better access, exposing your slickness that glimmersunder the harsh lights. just as gojo is about to devour you like a starved man, he hears footsteps retreating from the room.
without turning his head, his voice booms with unsettling authority, filling the space with an ominous weight. 
“the first person who leaves will be beheaded.”
fear grips the room as every footstep halts. the tense silence makes it clear, all eyes are now fixed on you two, trapped in the suffocating stillness that follows.
and now, here gojo is, his tongue buried deep inside your stretchy walls, his frosty hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks flushed a rosy pink. he lost himself the moment his lips met your pussy, consumed by an imhumane hunger.
your cunt is loud, the lewd sloshes echoing through the royalty room, disturbing the royal family's ears. your pussy spasms as his head shakes like a madman, his killer tongue curling and thrusting as deeply as he can reach. each movement sends shockwaves through you, and he revels in the chaos he's creating.
both of his hands are messily playing with your drenched breasts, which are on full display. he pinches and squeezes your nipples with need, adding to the overwhelming sensations. you're a moaning mess, the dual stimulation too much to bear—a toe curling experience that leaves you breathless.
gojo drinks and slurps loudly on your sloppy pussy, each sound a explicit reminder to his appetite. your pussy is like a drug to him, he's high off you and can't get enough. he needs more of you—your taste, your scent—or he'll surely go mad.
the room is filled with the symphony of your combined sounds, your moans, his greedy slurps, and the wet noises of your body responding to him. it's a lewd display that leaves no doubt about the depths of his obsession and your mutual surrender to this intoxicating moment.
“hahh, i n-need it, my lady,” gojo whimpers, his droopy eyes locked onto your messy breasts, glistening with milk. his mouth waters, a desperate hunger igniting within him as he rises from his knees, his lips and chin still slick from your leaky cunt. confusion flickers across your face until his warm mouth finally envelops your nipple, his tongue swirling around it with an insatiable eagerness, drawing forth your sweet fluids.
his eyes flutter closed at the new taste flooding his senses—so sweet, candied, and intoxicating that it sends a jolt of pleasure straight to his throbbing cock, which leaks eagerly against the fabric of his traditional attire. the sensation is overwhelming that he can’t get enough. 
“oh f-fuck, ‘toru…” you moan, your voice trembling as waves of pleasure wash over you. the sensitivity of your nipple sends shivers down your spine, and you arch your back off the cushioned throne instinctively, pushing more of yourself into his mouth. 
“mhm… so good,” he groans against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your body. he sucks harder, pulling on your swollen nipple as if it's the only thing keeping him alive. the sounds of slurping and moaning fill the air—each noise a raw desire consuming both of you.
you cry out again, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. you gasp, lost in a haze of pleasure as gojo's mouth works its magic. every flick of his tongue and gentle tug sends you spiralling deeper into ecstasy. the royal family stares up in horror at your lewd actions, they tremble in fear at what gojo would do to them if they said one peep.
but gojo is completely lost in this moment, high on the taste of you. “i can’t stop… i need more,” he moans breathlessly between pulls as your milk coats his plush lips, his own arousal pushing him closer to the edge. each time he pulls away to catch his breath, he’s met with the sight of your flushed cheeks and blissed-out expression—fuelling his desire even further.
gojo has found his new addiction in you, and it’s a craving that will never be satisfied. as he continues to devour your milk with fervour , both of you moan like crazy, caught in an endless cycle of pleasure that only seems to intensify with each passing moment.
he’ll never stop at this rate.
GETO SUGURU
your ears perk up as you hear your coworkers squeak in excitement upon spotting geto suguru, the renowned artist, stepping into the luxurious store where you work. this high-end boutique, filled with fashionable handbags and stunning clothing, is where geto loves to shop—not just for the exquisite pieces, but because you’re always here.
fiddling with the clothing rack, you catch a glimpse of geto through your peripheral vision, flanked by his bodyguards as female employees swarm around him. little do they know—and little does the media suspect—that you and geto share a secret relationship. he often begs you to quit your job, promising to provide for you completely. as tempting as that offer is, you've built a family at work that you cherish deeply.
“hmmm, i was actually looking for this piece in particular,” you hear him say from behind you. his large hand engulfs yours as he selects the coat you were just touching. you stifle a giggle; this is nowhere near his usual style. he always does this to strike up casual conversations in public.
“would you get the fitting room ready for me, mrs. geto?” he rasps, whispering the last part just for your ears. your eyes widen in shock, hoping no one overheard. you nod, noticing your coworkers scoff at how clearly geto has a favorite.
you already know what he wants with that slick fitting room signal—he misses you and wants to fuck you.
that's why he has you bent over prettily for him in the vip fitting room, your hands pressed against the full-length mirror now smudged with your fingerprints. your work pants are discarded somewhere across the room as you watch him tease you mercilessly, rubbing his cockhead along your puffy folds. your pussy aches, desperate for more.
“i missed you, pretty,” he murmurs softly, and you nearly crumble when he slaps his chubby tip against your clit. the wet taps send jolts through your entire body, making your pussy clench around nothing.
“m-missed you too, sugu,” you whimper, voice trembling with need. he swats your ass, drawing a moan from your lips as you lean into the mirror. fog clouds the reflection as he continues to spank your sore skin, each slap a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you breathless.
“‘m not talkin’ to you,” he scolds as you whine, wiggling your hips back to feel more, a chuckle rumbling from him. “since you wanna ignore my texts... she would never ignore me.” his voice drops as his leaky tip pushes its way into your cunt, your walls stretching to accommodate every inch, almost burning. geto hisses at the way your velvety walls flutter around him, and you feel yourself growing blissfully dumb. the store's background music rings in your ears, a reminder that you're still on the job.
geto watches you slowly lose yourself through the mirror, pulling your hips firmly against his as he slams his cock deep into your walls, making you sob aloud. he pounds mercilessly into your sopping pussy, each stroke deeper than before, his flushed tip kissing your cervix with every thrust. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the fitting room, mingling with your moans and creating a sweet melody of raw desire.
“fuckkk—pussy so good,” he pants as you clamp down at the praise, a grin spreading across his face as he sees your eyes shut tightly, moaning out pathetic pleas. your pussy sobs uncontrollably, nearly louder than the soft music playing through the speakers.
“mmm, she’s very talkative today,” he rasps wickedly, his hand snaking down to vigorously rub your achy clit, the cool metal of his silver rings grazing your sensitive skin. you cry out from the dual stimulation, overwhelmed by the sensation.
“y-you came here to just speak to my pussy more than m-me,” you manage to say, a hint of attitude slipping through as he pauses, taken aback by your words. his thrusts come to an abrupt halt, and you whine at the sudden stop.
“awh baby. are you upset? wanna show me how mad you are?” he teases with a fake pout, watching as your frustration builds. “poor thing, all worked up and nowhere to go.”
he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “maybe if you hadn’t ignored my texts, i’d be a little nicer,” he taunts, giving your clit a sharp pinch that makes you gasp. “but now? i think i’ll take my time.”
his words send a shiver down your spine as he resumes his relentless pace, each thrust deliberate and punishing. “come on, show me how mad you are,” he urges mockingly, his voice dripping with amusement.
those were his last words before you took control, riding him like your life depended on it. he's whimpering beneath you,struggling to hold back his moans as your pussy works him over, each movement a killer. you're pouncing on him on the adjacent couch from the mirror, your hips rolling at a relentless pace as his large hands knead the flesh of your ass. he swears he's under some kind of hypnosis, his eyes glued to your breasts as they bounce wildly in front of his wide, purple eyes.
your pussy squelches louder and louder with each thrust, a symphony of wet sounds that’s music to his ears—he even thinks he might have to incorporate it into his next song.
“how’re you feeling, pretty boy?” you purr, and a moan slips past his lips at the praise. his eyes flutter slightly as you ride him faster, your walls sucking him in with a steady rhythm.
“hahhh, d-don’t think i won’t get back at you,” he whines, but there's no mistaking the submission in his voice. you grin down at him, taking in the sight of his long locks sticking to his forehead, strands of hair messily splayed across his face. he's completely undone beneath you, humming with pleasure as you continue your relentless pace.
his once-commanding presence is softened by the way he succumbs to your movements, each roll of your hips drawing out more whimpers and gasps. 
“mr. geto, we found a few pieces that you might like!” 
you stop in your tracks, eyes widening in panic as you hear your manager’s voice on the other side of the door. geto lazily smiles, clearly enjoying the fear that flashes across your face. without warning, he lifts you up from the couch, his strong arms wrapping around you as he strides closer to the door. your heart races as he slams you against the wall beside the door, and you stare up at him, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you.
“hmm? please tell me more about it, im dying to know more,” he lies smoothly, his voice low and teasing as he wraps your legs around his waist. his cock is still buried deep inside you, and he begins to thrust slowly, deliberately. you bite your lip hard, desperately trying to stifle any sounds as you’re mere inches away from your oblivious manager who rambles on about clothing pieces.
each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, and you struggle to keep quiet as he fucks you roughly. it almost feels like he’s punishing you, yet the thrill of being caught only heightens your arousal. but fuckk, the way you look at him—eyes wide with fear and desire—makes him want to abandon all caution. he wants everyone to see how much you belong to him.
“you like that, baby? you like getting fucked in front of your manager?” he whispers with a wicked grin, his voice dripping with mischief. you gasp as his dick throbs inside your sloppy cunt, your arousal leaking profusely and staining the expensive flooring beneath you. 
your managers voice suddenly drops as she realize something is off, her excitement turns to horror as she begin to piece together what’s happening just behind the door.
“yeaa, I bet you do, doll,” geto taunts, his eyes dark with lust. 
“just show her how much of a slut you are.”
CHOSO KAMO
“what do you mean there’s no room?” you exclaimed, eyes widening as you looked into the back seat and saw it completely filled. not even a single inch was available for you. of course, two of the tallest guys—choso and riko—were manspreading like it was their job, leaving your poor friends, mina and sajé, squished together.
“well… we thought the car would fit all of us,” choso’s friend, the driver, said as he glanced back, confirming that there was zero room possible. you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration; you’d already pitched in money for this road trip.
“you can sit on my lap if you’re comfortable,” choso chimed in, his voice smooth and inviting. your eyes nearly twinkle at his kindness, and everyone in the car exchanged side-eyes—half surprised and half amused by the suggestion. 
your low heels clacked against the cement as you hurried over to choso’s side of the car, excitement bubbling inside you. when you opened the door, you nearly choked on your saliva at how incredibly good he looked, manspreading in the back seat. his black baggy ripped jeans hugged his long legs perfectly, paired with those monstrous black boots that made him look even taller. your eyes trailed up to his chest—damn, that black compression shirt clung to him in all the right places.
he’s the true definition of an emo hottie!
his lap looked so inviting as you climbed into the cramped SUV. you settled snugly on his lap, feeling his large arm snake around your waist for extra protection. but oh gosh, your cunt was tingling like crazy—your clothed pussy was directly on top of his bulge, and it sent a rush of heat through you.
after nearly hours of driving, everyone in the car is dozing off to slumber—everyone except you, choso, the driver, and the person in the passenger seat. the car jolts suddenly, waking everyone up, but what’s even worse is that you’re practically bouncing on choso’s lap!
“ehh, sorry! the roads are pretty bad here,” the driver says as the car hits a series of small bumps that quickly escalate to larger ones. choso’s arm around your waist tightens, holding you down more firmly against him. you suppress a moan as you feel the outline of his growing cock beneath you—hell, you can even feel it throbbing uncontrollably.
you shut your eyes tightly, nibbling on your plush lips as you try to hold back any sounds. it would be beyond embarrassing if you let out a noise now. but with each bump in the road, the friction between your bodies sends electric shocks through you, igniting a fire deep within.
“f-fuck… need more,” he whispers lowly, just for your ears. your heart stops at his words. did you hear him wrong? but the way he’s holding you down makes it clear that you heard him just fine.
the tension in the air is thick—almost suffocating—as desire hangs between you like a heavy fog. every jolt of the car pushes you closer to him, and you can’t help but grind down slightly, feeling his hardness beneath you. it’s so pathetic how the both of you are grinding hard on each other, holding in whimpers and moans as you feel your panties fully drenched. choso’s breath hitches, and his grip on your waist tightens even more as he bucks his hips up desperately to feel more.
your nails scrape against the driver’s seat in front of you, and you swear you’re about to rip through the fabric. it’s embarrassing how turned on both you and choso are—especially with all your friends in the car!
“pull over here, let’s get some drinks,” riko groggily says, and the car sharply turns right into the parking lot of the convenience store. both of your movements come to an abrupt halt as the atmosphere shifts; everyone becomes hyper-aware of the situation.
“y’all coming in?” riko asks as he opens his door, and you feel your heart race. you and choso exchange a quick glance, knowing exactly what’s at stake. “no thanks, we’ll just stay here,” you manage to say, forcing a casual tone despite the heat pooling in your belly.
you don’t waste a minute as you reposition yourself facing choso, your knees sinking into the plush seat beneath you providing just enough comfort. his hair is messily tousled, strands falling across his face, and those puppy eyes of his are filled with a desperate need that makes your heart race.
without hesitation, choso quickly unbuckles his jeans, pulling out his achy cock from its confines. he lets out a soft moan as the cool breeze grazes his thick shaft, and your eyes widen at how incredibly hot he looks—his rosy tip leaking with anticipation.
“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. he’s already intoxicated by you, and all you’ve done is grind against each other!. the heat between you is noticeable , and you can feel your own need building as you pull your panties to the side.
“g-gosh, choso,” you gasp as his thick tip slips inside you, your walls inviting him completely. choso throws his head back against the headrest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he drives his hips up with fervor, filling you entirely.
“i’m sorry, pretty— we don’t have much time,” he breathes, his voice strained and shaky, each word punctuated by heavy breaths. his hips move with a desperate urgency, thrusting into you with a rhythm all their own. the sound of your bodies meeting is so loud it drowns out the hum of the engine. 
you roll your hips, feeling him reach the deepest parts of you. your breaths mingle in the confined space, quickening with each thrust. a moan escapes your lips as his bulbous tip expertly finds your g-spot with each powerful thrust, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. choso’s breath hitches as he loses himself in the moment, the air thick with tension and desire.
the car shakes with each thrust, the windows slightly fogging up as you both fuck each other with desperateness and need.
“‘s fuckin’ big, cho,” you stammer out, your melodic moans music to his ears. his cock vigorously throbs within your slick walls, and the two of you are growing dumb off each other, lost in a haze of pleasure.
with each thrust met, your cunt begins to spasm around him, clenching tightly as waves of pleasure wash over you. the sensation is overwhelming; it feels like your body is begging for release. the car creaks under the intensity of your movements, the air thick with heat and urgency. 
as you both get lost in the moment, choso leans in closer, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. it starts softly, but quickly escalates into something primal and messy. his hands grip your face as if he’s afraid to let go, and you can feel his raw passion pouring into every touch.
your mouths move together with urgent need, tongues tangling in a wild dance that feels intoxicating and electric. he tastes like pure desire—sweet and addictive—as he kisses you deeper. each press of his lips sends shivers racing down your spine, igniting a fire within you that mirrors the rhythm of his thrusts.
the kiss grows sloppier; breaths become heavy and desperate as you both lose yourselves in each other. saliva mixes as you moan into his mouth, the sounds echoing in the confined space of the car. choso pulls away just enough to lock eyes with you, his gaze dark with lust and hunger.
“you’re driving me insane,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire before he crashes his lips back onto yours. the urgency intensifies, each kiss more fervent than the last, as if he’s trying to claim every part of you. 
with a sudden burst of playful dominance he snakes his hands down to your ass, he slaps your flesh hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure through you, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he watches your reaction.
“yeaaa you like that shit, huh? i bet you-“
his words are cut short when you hear the doors attempt to open. you glance at riko, who’s struggling to unlock the door. before you can react, the driver unlocks it, and riko comes flying into the back seat beside you and choso.
your walls clamp down around his thick cock as he groans lowly, the thought of getting caught sending a thrill through you. you bury your face into his neck, inhaling his husky cologne.
“what the hell are y’all doing?” riko asks, glancing at your awkward position on choso’s lap, head hidden in his neck.
“she’s sleeping,” choso replies quietly, raising a finger to his lips to signal silence. everyone nods, but you can feel choso smirking as you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood.
as the car starts moving again, your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets when it begins to shake. the bumpy road makes you bounce on his cock, and you instinctively grind down, feeling him tense beneath you. his eyes flutter as he watches your hips move, knowing exactly how to make him crumble.
“cut the shit, you two- we already know you aren’t sleeping,” nobara says, pointing at the dashcam that’s connected to one of their phones.
they heard everything,
fuck.
NANAMI KENTO
“let’s just fuck it out mama, we can’t be separated.”  
“you’re ridiculous,” you scoff, sitting cross-legged in the divorce attorney's office once the door shut closed.
“we need a moment to speak alone,” nanami had asked your attorney as he left, but he was nowhere near wanting to talk and you knew that the moment the two of you were alone.
“ridiculous? this isn’t even the worst place we’ve fucked,” he taunts, rising from his chair and leaning against the desk, his hazel eyes scanning your figure—something he could never get enough of.
“sign the papers,” you say through gritted teeth, but he smirks, clearly not listening as he admires how beautiful you look in the skin tight dress.
“sign- fuckkk,” you cry out as you’re now bent over your attorneys desk, your black dress hiked up to your waist as nanami ruthlessly pounds his cock into your sore pussy as your walls welcomes him back with a warm and slimey snug. within a split second you’ve become a sobbing cock-drunk mess, your tears staining the important documents that are now scrunched up from being smothered underneath your breast.
nanamis thick fingers grip your sides as he rams his cock deep into you, this speed almost too much for you that you feel as if he’s deep in your guts. he desk shakes beneath you, pens and papers tumbling to the floor, but in this moment, nothing else matters. all that exists is the connection between you, a powerful force that consumes your thoughts and senses.
your knees buckle as he lifts you up, steadying you to keep your balance. “c’mon wifey, what about our future kids? you reallyyy want me to sign it?” he teases, his voice playful yet charged with intensity. you find yourself crying out incoherent sentences, lost in the overwhelming sensation of how good he feels.
“s-sign it,” you shudder as his thrusts intensify, you can hear the animalistic growl he lets out once he felt you squeeze tighter. feeling the tension between you as he pulls you closer. his large hand grips your hair, pulling you closer to his chest as you back arches up from the messy desk. your pussy squeaks out broken sobs as he rams his cock sooo deep that you see a small bulge forming in your lower tummy.
“what’s our lawyer going to think, huh? I spent a lotta money for his services,” he rasps, his thrusts growing deeper and more meaningful, as if to prove that you cannot leave him.
“k-kennn, fuckk,” you moan as he tugs harder on your hair, your body trembling as tears spill down your cheeks. he doesn’t care where you are- all that matters is the pleasure coursing through you. a devilish grin spreads across his face, knowing exactly how to push your buttons and drive you wild.
“i know, sweetheart—I know. just let it allll go,” he sings, encouraging you as he coaxed you toward your intense orgasm. soft “oohs” and “ahhs” escape your glossy lips as warmth pools in your belly, your slick walls tightening around him, practically suffocating his throbbing cock.
“hgnn—gonna milk me dry, baby,” nanami stutters, feeling his balls tighten painfully as his breaths become sloppy and jagged. he snakes his hand from your hair to your throat, possessively gripping you just tight enough to spark thrill without pain, amplifying the waves of pleasure that crash over you and drawing your intense orgasm closer with every pulse.
you bite your lower lip hard as you both come undone in perfect sync, a skill nanami has mastered. your walls flutter around him as his hot release fills you, feeling his thick seed plunge deep within your womb. your vision blurs and your ears ring; it’s so messy that your mixed juices cling between your thighs, sticky and gooey.
your mind is so dizzy that you don’t even notice when he gently places you on the desk, your back crumpling the papers beneath you as your legs are pressed against your chest. your permanent anklet dangles and glimmers in the natural light, the diamond ‘K.N.’ charm a constant reminder that he will always be with you, no matter what.
your eyes lazily flutter open to find nanami kissing your inner thighs, your legs still trembling from your previous orgasm. his lips graze your swollen folds, causing your body to jolt in response. nanami's eyes glimmer with amusement as he watches globs of your mixed essence drip down onto the papers creating a small pool on the wooden desk.
“mmm, you sure came a lot for someone who wants a divorce,” he taunts, bringing his cool wedding band back to your throbbing core, globs of cum coating the once-gold ring in a sticky white layer. you gasp at the metallic sensation as he rubs the ring against your swollen clit, toying with you while you sob incoherent sentences. your eyes dart to the door, where you catch a glimpse of shadows peeking through the window. panic rises in your throat as you try desperately to signal to nanami that there are people watching.
but oh he knows,
he knows very well that the entire floor heard the scandalous things you two were doing, and he wants everyone to know.
without warning, nanami plunges his warm tongue into your sopping core, savouring every drop of your arousal as he hums against you. the vibrations sends shivers through your body, and you can feel him revealing in the taste, his tongue exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that drives you wild. he laps up your juices eagerly, occasionally grazing your sensitive nub with his teeth, teasingly biting it just enough to send waves of pleasure coursing through you. it feels as if he’s determined to make you scream for everyone to hear.
the loud slurping fills the room, making you cringe at how messy and indulgent he is, yet your body craves him more with each passing moment. you feel yourself teetering on the edge, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you, when suddenly, just as you're about to beg for more, the door swings open. several flustered lawyers stand in the doorway, their eyes wide with shock.
“u-uhm, mr. and mrs. nanami, the p-police are outside…”
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classyrbf · 15 days ago
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thinking about jerking off nerd!gojo with your tits in his dorm room. You couldn’t care less for the loser, forced to have him as a tutor because you were failing your chem classes and needed an easy way out of your parents bitching at you. Quite literally you’ve gotten tired of hearing him talk and talk about stupid elements, formulas and equations because you’d rather much see the look on his face when he’s about to cum and hear how he sounds when he’s begging.
So that’s how you ended up on your knees in front of him, shirt unbuttoned and your tits covered in his pre cum, his thick and veiny cock pulsing between the two mounds of flesh as you move it up and down his sensitive shaft. His breath hitches, cheeks flushed a bright red, hands shaking as he struggling to push his glasses back up only for them to slide back down. “F-fuck,” he so sweetly whimpers, licking his dry lips. He loves the way you’re looking up at him, like you’re staring into his soul while simultaneously taking it. His heart pounds against his chest, relishing in the feeling of your soft skin hugging his aching cock, your warm tits only giving him an idea of what your pussy might feel like.
“Nngh, oh f-fuck…we’re…supposed to be…studying,” he managers to croak out through his pathetic moans and whimpers. His sucks in a breath, eyes rolling back when you go even faster, the sound of wet flesh smacking against each other makes the perverted part of his brain go into overdrive. He’s so fucking close.
“Awe, but don’t you wanna cum, Toru?” You teasingly ask, watching the way his throbbing red tip leaks another bead of precum only adding to the lubrication. The nickname alone drives Gojo crazy. He fists the sheets below him, jaw slack, a dazed look in his eyes. “We’ll make a deal, yeah? I’ll let you cum and do this as many times as you want as long as you do my chem work for me.” You smile, holding your tits tighter. “Deal?”
“Ok, ok, ok.” He ferociously nodded, biting down on his bottom lip. “I wanna cum so badly, please.” He let out a ragged breath, falling back on the bed as his body began twitching, hips jolting upward to create more friction. Just in mere seconds, ropes of sticky, hot cum shot up, landing on your tits. “Shit, shit! Ah, ah, nngh!” Gojo’s eyes rolled back. This feels like the most he’s ever came in his life. His legs began to shake the longer his orgasm lasts, groans and whimpers escaping his throat, filling the small room. His raspy breaths fall short, finally coming down from his high. He can barely even think straight now.
“God, you made such a mess!” You huff, looking down at your coated tits.
“Oh, uh—I’m sorry!” Gojo quickly sits up, panicking as he searches around for something to help you clean up. He swiftly hands you one of his shirts, handing it to you. You snatch it from his hands, wiping up every last drop of cum before tossing his shirt to the side. “Are you…um—”
“I gotta go.” You stand up, buttoning your shirt. “Thanks for agreeing to the deal.” You lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Gojo watches as you leave his dorm room without a care in the world, acting like you didn’t just milk him dry with your tits. At least he has something to look forward to every few days now.
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s0dium · 6 months ago
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Warning: Gojo is so sensitive and cums so so much.
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Contrary to popular belief, Gojo Satoru doesn't get around much.
Between missions that blurred into meetings with higher-ups, and training students, Gojo rarely has time to spare. So when he finally has time to let loose, time to be with you, the foreign sorceress who came to Japan to help out with curses, he forgets to warn you about two small things.
Number one, it's been so long since he has done anything remotely sexual. Number two, he cums a lot.
But it isn't until you're taking his heavy dick in your mouth and wrapping your soft lips on his pink tip that he realizes he won't be getting a word in. God, how long has it been since he even came? It feels like its been eons, he's having a hard time holding back whimpers from how soft and wet your mouth feels.
"F-fuck b-baby," He groans, burying his hand into your hair so he can guide your pretty lips up and down his lengthy cock. Gojo's dick is so hard it physically hurts. His entire body trembles with anticipation, every nerve alight as he fights to keep his moans at bay. Ecstasy rippled through him in waves, too intense to ignore, too consuming to control. He has to throw his head back to the ceiling because looking at how pretty you are sucking his dick like a lolipop is enough to make him spill then and there.
Colors dance behind Gojo's eyelids, vivid and pulsating with each sharp breath he took. His heart races, pounding in his chest as if it were trying to keep pace with the pleasure that threatened to consume him. It had been so long—too long—since he'd felt anything like this. So how can you blame him when he grabs either side of your face and starts to fuck himself down your throat? His hands entangle themselves in your hair as he sat perched on the edge of the bed, his legs barely steadying him as you knelt between his knees. You are overwhelming, beautiful, and intoxicating, he has no choice but to surrender to you.
Then, it hits him.
An all consuming wave of ecstasy crashes down on him making his thighs shake and toes curl. He doesn't even know whats going on anymore because fuck he is hearing color. He's too busy shaking from the shocks of his orgasm to notice your whimpers or how your eyes are going wide from the thick salty fluid spilling into your mouth.
So you swallow.
Once.
Twice.
Holy shit his cum just keeps coming. It's too much, filling your throat until it aches, but still, more pulses into your mouth. Unable to take another gulp, you let it pool inside, feeling it trickle past your lips, warm and slick, dripping down your chin. The sensation sends a shiver through your body, heat blooming deep inside you as the messy wetness makes you crave more, leaves you feeling desperate. Fuck, how would this feel in your pussy? Filling your womb like icing?
"Fuck, shit, I'm sorry baby fuck." With shaky hands Gojo pulls his softening dick out of your mouth, bringing his thumb to your lip to wipe the milky white cum from your mouth.
You gather yourself and take a deep breath, determined to swallow it all. With a big gulp, you force the thick fluid down your throat, your lips closing tightly around the last of it. The strain makes your throat burn, but you manage, the effort sending a visible shudder through you. Gojo watches, his sharp blue eyes darkening with lust, lips curling into a smirk before he bites down hard, stifling a groan at the sight.
"Atta girl."
This is inspired by @introloves bokuto fic
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nezuscribe · 4 months ago
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being married to gojo is probably such a weird limbo to be in. he doesn’t talk much, but he watches you a lot. the way you move, the way your head tilts back as you laugh unapologetically, the little way your nose scrunches up when you’re confused.
he’s aware of your past, the way you were raised. he knows how much of a black sheep you are, and the more he spends time with you the more he realizes how much you try to hide that.
the way you joke through awkward moments, or the way you tried to hide your expression when somebody doesn’t laugh at something you hoped to be funny are all things gojo has noticed about you.
he knows how you sometimes come down to the training yard, hiding behind a pillar as if a group of men who are trained to be aware of their surroundings wouldn’t spot you from a mile away.
but a part of him likes having you there, puffs his chest out a little more when he disarms someone, his grin a little cheekier when the men praise him of his talent.
though you never really seem to be there for him, despite gojo being your husband. it almost seems like you don’t even want him to know you’re there, making sure to duck your head if he sees you.
until one night, when the men file out and into their quarters, gojo stays behind, in one of the rooms that lead out into the yard, still cleaning up.
his ears prick up when he hears the sound of footsteps, leaving the sword room, expecting to see on of his men, when instead he sees you, looking at the bows littered on the ground.
gojo watches as you pick one up, looking around to see if anybody were there, missing the way gojo was hidden in the shadows, and sees you look around for an arrow.
he wonders what that feeling in his chest it, the one that contracts and loosens whenever you’re near.
he goes back into the shed, picking out some arrows for you and walks to where you were.
“here,” he calls out, and you whip your head around, a look of surprise and embarrassment on your face.
your lips slightly part, shocked that it’s your husband who caught you, and you duck your head a little bit as you quickly go to set the bow back down on the ground.
“sorry,” you quickly say, your eyes trialing at the arrows in his hand in a curious sort of way, “i just wanted to, um, hold one.”
gojo snorts, rolling his eyes at your lie as he picks the bow back up from the ground, wiping some of the dirt from earlier from his hands on his pants as you slowly accept it.
“do you know how to shoot?” he asks, his sturdy figure towering over yours as you stare at him, squinting your eyes a little, and finally shake your head no.
he nods, expecting this as he picks up a bow that was resting on the wall, cocking one of the arrows in the as he shows you what he’s doing.
you’ve spoken to him a bit more as of recently, but never enough for you to think he’d be willing to show you how to use a bow.
“line up your arrow with the bowstring,” he demonstrates, “use your non dominant hand to hold it,” you watch silently as he grips it with his left hand.
you do the same thing, the arrow clumsily sliding around until your able to cock it, holding it loosely with your non dominant hand like he said.
“your dominant hand should hold the string between three fingers,” his slender fingers take it in between and he stretches it, “but make sure your wrist is aligned with your fingers.”
you do the same thing, feeling the resistance from the bowstring as you pull it back.
gojo looks over at your legs and clicks his tongue, clearly not liking what he’s seeing. he sets his own bow on the ground as he comes up from behind you.
“your legs should be like this,” his voice is deep, breath hiting the back of your neck as he nudges your legs apart, separating them until one is in front of the other.
your heart is pounding so loudly against your chest your sure the bow is about to vibrate along with it.
his hand cups your elbow, carefully pulling it back as the string groans under the pressure. you feel like you’re sweating your entire body weight in water off right now.
his eyes are focused on your wrist, holding it gently as he lowers it slightly, and you feel his nose slightly brush against the side of your head.
“don’t focus on the tip of your arrow but the target,” his voice comes out barely audible, but you swallow thickly, nodding.
you try your best to focus on the target that’s in front of you, trying to center the bow with the middle.
“let go when you’re ready,” gojo says, his lips near your ears.
you give it a couple seconds, trying to aim as best as you can, before your hand lets go of the string.
you both straighten your backs up, watching as it flies into the target.
the arrow nearly hits the wood around it, so far away from the target itself that it’s almost comical, and you laugh, tilting your head back as shake your head in embarrassment.
“it’s your first time,” he says, trying to help but you shake it off, missing his warmth from behind you as you set the bow back on the wall.
“and my last,” you promise, missing the way he seemed to deflate.
you turn back to gojo, only to see his eyes it filled with the mirth they had only moments ago, this time focused on your left hand.
you look down, trying to figure out what was wrong.
suddenly, you remember that you had taken off you ring a couple days ago, not finding any use in wearing it.
gojo swallows thickly, a strange lump in his chest as he stares at the arrow you had shot and then back to your face.
“i just figured…” you trailed off, biting your lips as you tried to find the words, “you know…” you motioned to his own left hand, void of any ring.
his eyes are a different hue, as if a storm was brewing inside them.
you watched as he dug his hand inside his tunic, tugging something out. your eyes fall to a delicate gold chain, his wedding ring hanging off of it.
“i don’t want it to fall off during training,” he bites out and suddenly your mouth feels dry.
you nod once, eyes fleeting away from his as you nod again, at nothing and everything, and silently leave.
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gojonanami · 9 months ago
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❝ 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐎) !! ❞
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❝ A LOVE TRIANGLE GONE RIGHT ?! REPORTING FROM THE SET OF THE HIT SHOW JUJUTSU KAISEN ! ❞
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✧ pairing: actors!satoru gojo and suguru geto x actor!reader
✧ summary: rumors swirl about a love triangle between you and your two heart throb co-stars on the set of jujutsu kaisen. except in this case, you and your two co-stars are happily dating. but what happens when you get casted in a movie where they want you to have a PR relationship with your co-star? especially when your boyfriends find out who it is—
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut, no curses, modern au, jjk is a tv show, actor au, yes the actors and characters have the same names lol, reader is dating both of them, funny interview hijinxs, this is kind a lot of crack, jealous! gojo + geto, sukuna is here lmao, innuendos, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi-exhibitionism, face sitting (f! receiving), multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sex (p in v), double penetration, creampie, multiple rounds, swearing, fanart by @ / _3aem
✧ wc: 17,900
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“Reporters say the love triangle between the actors Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto and their co-star has become even more shrouded in mystery than the show itself!” an influencer reports on your social media of gchoice that morning, nearly vibrating from assumedly her three espressos, “the stars of Jujutsu Kaisen, the fantasy horror drama series written by Gege Akutami have been embroiled in dating scandals over the last few weeks—“ your phone’s notifications cut the audio from the video for a moment until you switch it to silent, “after being spotted leaving Suguru Geto’s loft just two nights ago, she was then seen having a lunch rendezvous with Satoru Gojo—“ 
You lock your phone, rubbing your temples, as the device nearly had an aneurysm from your social media notifications — buzzing itself off your dining room table and into an early death. Your agent was going to have a field day with this, and the main event is going to be your murder. 
“What are they saying about us now?” Suguru sighs, as he emerges out of the shower in only a towel wrapped around his waist, steam rolling out of the bathroom, as you offer him a coffee, his fingers brushing yours as he takes a sip, “my agent is demanding I call him— and I’d like to know what we’ve done now before he kills me,” he says, though he continues to sip his coffee nonchalantly, unbefuddled by the thought of his death. 
“Oi oi, calm down, shouldn’t you be more upset at the reporters than me?” Satoru comes from the bedroom, “Nanamin, just take care of it. Tell them we’re just friends if they ask you — do me a favor and pay off the reporter who got a picture of us kissing—“ and you nearly snort at the thought of Nanami Kento doing any sort of favor for Satoru. 
“You let him kiss you?” Suguru raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips, as your cheeks burn, rolling your eyes. 
“Not so much ‘let’ as he just kissed me without a second thought,” you shake your head, drinking your coffee as Satoru continues to bicker with Nanami, “I told him I thought I saw paparazzi but—“ 
“Satoru is do first, ask questions never,” Suguru sighs, but still the smirk remains, as he leans closer to you, his large palm against the back of your chair, “you never let me kiss you in public,” 
And you’re resisting the urge to bite your lip, “You know better — look at what Satoru’s done now—“ 
“And was it worth it, Princess?” Your mind wanders to the kiss — Satoru’s hand against the nape of your neck, his lips sliding against yours, the faint taste of the strawberry cake he had for dessert lingering on his tongue and now yours, and the sticky heat that settled over your body from the too humid night air and his warmth leeching onto your skin, and the eyes watching his need for you made it all the more—
“Maybe,” you mumble, choosing to sip at your drink as Satoru cut off your conversation with his own. 
“Just deal with it, Nanami, that’s why I hired you after all, huh?” He earns a swear from Nanami for the claim that he ‘hired’ him in any way whatsoever, and then his lips curl. “No they aren’t here with me—“ the bespectacled man shouts from the other line, “eh? What do you mean I look and sound like a man who only lies?” And then he’s hanging up, running a hand through his hair, a pout on his lips, “I was supposed to wake up to the two of you, not Nanami’s tirade,” he groans, as he makes his way over to you, only to wrap his arms around you from behind. 
“Well, it is your fault, Satoru,” Suguru smirks over the rim of his cup, “someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves—“ 
“Jealous, Suguru?” he replies, as he presses a kiss to your neck, “jealous that our princess is much more affectionate with me,” 
Suguru cuts you off, “more like she babies you,” and Satoru’s face sours into a scowl, “if she had stayed at my apartment for the week, this wouldn’t have—“ 
“And then they would have seen me coming to your place, and what good would that do?” 
“Guys—“ you try to speak, but you’re cut off again. 
Suguru tilts his head with a small grin, “Are you lonely? Why don’t you find someon—“ 
“Stop, guys,” you couldn’t take this bickering this early in the morning, though you had grown used to it, “we have bigger problems to deal with than your egos,” you sigh, rising from Satoru’s grip even as he pouts, “we have to be more careful,” 
“But how? We’ve already cut down our appearances together for behind the scenes and even stopped going out for dinner or dates,” Satoru pouts, running a hand through his hair, “next thing you’ll want to break up,” 
“That’s not gonna happen,” you flick Satoru on the forehead, “but we have to do something, otherwise our agents will have us murdered,” 
“And Nanami will join them for sport,” Suguru adds, and you snort, finally finishing your drink, before he walks over to you, fingers under your chin, “so what’s your idea, sweetheart?” 
“Just take a break for a few weeks until the public finds something else to fixate on,” you sigh, “while the episodes air, all we’re going to get is more attention,” 
“We could just take a trip,” Satoru offers, “I own a private island—“ 
“Of course you do,” Suguru says, and Satoru only chuckles. 
“Being envious doesn’t become you, Suguru,” the snow haired actor clicks his tongue at him, before he’s pulling you into his arms, “we could go for a few days, get away from all the noise,” 
“It’s a good idea, but you’re forgetting one thing, Satoru,” Suguru tilts his head, “won’t they notice if we all go on vacation at the same time?” 
“Plus we have interviews to do in the coming week,” you remind Satoru, and he’s sighing, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “but maybe we can go after?” 
“Unless you get that role,” Satoru mumbles against your skin, pressing sweet kisses to the nape of your neck, “have you heard anything yet?” 
You shake your head, a sigh stuck in your throat, “It’s a long shot. This is such a big role and it’s for the lead,” and Suguru is finding his way to you, warm fingers cupping your cheek. 
“They would be lucky to have you — do you know how many people say you were their favorite character? They were ready to fight me and Satoru for you,” he adds with a chuckle, lips ghosting over the swell of your cheek, “I think they would beat us with sheer numbers,” 
“Nah, I’d win,” Satoru says, and you snort, rolling your eyes, “but he’s right princess, how crazy would they have to be not to cast you?” 
“There’s so many other talented people up for the role—“ 
“There’s always going to be someone else,” Suguru cuts you off gently, as his fingers find yours, lacing with yours so perfectly you wondered if it’s what they were made for, “but that doesn’t mean you’re any less valuable or incredible,” 
“And you’re already far more talented than you give yourself credit for,” Satoru adds, “but when do you get the role, inevitably,” Suguru smirks at him, “when would shooting begin?” 
“Probably just after our press wraps for season two,” you lean into their touch, “they still haven’t casted the two leads, but apparently both are down to the final audition,” and you’re pressing nosing Satoru’s cheek, before pressing a chaste kiss to Suguru’s nose, “and that’s why we’ll have to cool it for the next few weeks, ok?” 
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But you don’t — or rather they don’t. 
“Who is Satoru Gojo’s…” Satoru rips off the tape off the cardboard printout of Googled questions, “favorite actor to work with?” 
“We all know the answer to that,” Suguru replies with a sigh, his eyes sliding to you, and you roll your own. 
“Look who’s talking — these two are obsessed with each other,” and Satoru has a shit eating grin, sitting back and watching the two of you argue, “the two of you are soulmates — and I’m not talking about your characters,”
“Don’t go there,” Suguru scoffs, and you tilt your head, lips curling, as your gaze meets his. 
“Are you begging?” and you can’t help the way your tone bites back, falling far over the line of playful teasing and into blatant flirting, and you can only hope the camera plays off the dark glint in Suguru’s gaze as he smirks as teasing rather than what you know it is — lustful. 
“You’re both wrong anyway,” Satoru cuts in, “obviously my favorite actor to work with is Megumi!” 
And you and Suguru both snort, words falling from your lips in unison, “Poor Megumi,” 
“Ehhh? What do you mean by that?” And Satoru smacks you both playfully with the piece of cardboard an intern probably painfully put together before tossing it away. 
“What happened to Suguru Geto….” in Jujutsu Kaisen?” Suguru reads. 
“Dead,” you and Satoru answer in unison, and Suguru raises an eyebrow. 
“You both are a walking spoiler,” and you gape at Suguru. 
“They asked, and he’s the spoiler warning — he read ahead and told me that his character—“ and Suguru covers your mouth, looking the camera dead in the eye. 
“You’re welcome—ow!” And he pulls his hand away, “did you just bite me?” 
“You weren’t complaining last night,” Satoru says, earning a whack to the face with the cardboard printout from Suguru, “when you tried to steal her snacks—“ 
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And you weren’t really helping either. 
“Do you think of yourself as a heartthrob?*” You ask Satoru, hooked up to a lie detector, the polygraph examiner studying the results closely, as Suguru didn’t bother biting back his smile. 
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m not—“ 
“It’s a yes or no question, Satoru,” you cut him off as he sighs dramatically, running a hand through his snowy locks. 
“Then I’ll have to say yes,” and he’s winking at the camera, and you’re snorting, looking at the lie detector reader. 
“It’s the truth,” he says simply and the examiner nods, and you scoff, as Satoru only pouts at you. 
“Have you ever,” Suguru lets a chuckle escape his lips, “look at fan accounts for yourself? I can answer this one, yes he does, I’ve watched him do it—“ 
Satoru scoffs, doubling down, “can you blame me? My fans do such wonderful edits—“ 
“And inflate your ego to a catastrophic size—“ and Satoru is reaching across the table to cover your mouth. 
“Be careful she bites,” Suguru warns, leaning back in his chair, as you grin against Satoru’s hand, and he shrugs, lips curling. 
“Don’t worry, I like it,” 
The examiner nods, “that’s the truth.” 
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“We’ll start out tame,” you say, as you look at the list of thirst tweets in front of you and choosing one of the more…hinged ones, “Suguru Geto, I would let you kill me like the monkey I am, and I’d thank you for it,” and you show the tweet, “monkey emoji covering their face,” 
“That’s a tame one?” Suguru covers half his face with his hand, much like the emoji, “what the **** are the wild ones?” And you open your mouth to reply and he cuts you off, “I don’t want to know,” 
“Sweetheart, I’ll read one for you next,” and Satoru scans his list, and he clears his throat, holding out his hand to you, your name on his lips, “the only way I could die happy ever is if I suffocated when you sat on my face,” 
And heat climbs your face at his words, a single chuckle giving way to full laughter, “***, that’s a lot of pressure to put on me—“ 
“And on them,” Satoru adds, and you’re glaring at him only to dissolve into giggles, “I can't blame them. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go,” 
“It’s my turn,” Suguru scans the list and grimaces, “I don’t want to read this,” and then he runs his fingers through his hair and sighs, “I’d let Satoru Gojo **** me, spit in my mouth, and make my daddy issues worse, and I’d thank him for it, respectfully,” 
And you’re doubled over in laughter by the time he gets to the end of his monotone reading, while Satoru only grins at the camera, leaning against the table, as he pulls his sunglasses on only to tilt them down his nose. 
“I’m available.” 
No, this press junket did not help at all. 
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“Fuck,” you grumble, propping yourself on your elbow, your knuckles pressed to your lips, “how are we still trending? Aren't there other things to talk about?” 
“Stop checking it, it’s only making you crazy,” Suguru sighs, collapsing next to you on the couch, his hand thrown over the top of the couch, before it slips down behind you, warm palm resting on your hip, “there’s nothing you can do,” 
“My agent said she’s definitely going to get news on whether I got the part tomorrow — and tomorrow is when the last episode of the season is airing, and when—“ 
“The scene with Kenjaku at the end, I know,” Suguru presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, “think I could pull off stitches?” He drags a finger across his forehead teasingly. 
“If you’re asking for a lobotomy, I always wanted to try doing one,” Satoru walks in from the shower, hair still damp, as he squeezes on your other side, “Princess, you can be my nurse, hm?” 
“Did you already have one?” Suguru bites back, and Satoru doesn’t reply, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “she’s still worried about tomorrow,” 
“Don’t you know there’s no such thing as bad publicity?” Satoru presses a sweet kiss to your neck. 
“Not when they’re speculating if I’m dating or cheating on one or both of you,” you shake your head, “what if the director thinks I’m a liability?” 
“If the director thinks you’re a liability after seeing your work and meeting you, then he’s clearly blind,” 
You flick his sunglasses down, “can you say that four eyes?” 
“Don’t you mean six eyes?” Satoru sticks his tongue out at him, and Suguru’s fingers find yours, laced hands against your thigh, “whatever happens, happens — you know your worth,” 
“And your worth is far too high for you — only I could afford it,” he wiggled his eyebrows, and you shove Satoru, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you against him, his lips grazing the soft skin behind your ear, “how much?” 
“For you? A billion dollars,” and his lips find yours in a kiss, lazy but warm, heat from his touch spreading like a flames carried by the wind. 
“That all? What a bargain,” Satoru pulls a breath away, his lips curled in a grin, only for Suguru’s fingers to cup your chin and make you turn around. 
Deep purple irises you grew lost in, his thumb dragging down your kiss bitten lips, “and for our princess?” He hums, lips grazing yours teasingly, “a steal,” 
“Well, you both stole my heart so you might as well have the rest,” and Suguru’s lips finally find yours in a real kiss, deep and full, until your mind is filled with nothing but him — and Satoru, whose  lips ghost over your shoulder and collarbone and hands slip under your shirt, warm palms against your far too heated skin, “fuck—“ you’re sighing, melting agaisnt them, “Sugu, Toru,” you’re whining already, drawing smirks to both of their lips. 
“Let us take care of you, sweetheart,” Satoru whispers, lips finding your earlobe and sucking at the sensitive skin, and Suguru pulls away from your kiss for a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips. 
“We’ll get your mind off things, Princess,” and his fingers tease the waistband of your shorts, “all night long.” 
And they do, they keep their promise — the three of you falling into bed in a jumble of limbs, and you forget until the next morning. 
And in the morning—you get the call, “okay, thank you,” you hang up, still between mussed sheets and arms wrapped around your waist, “I got it!” 
“Heh, I knew you would,” Satoru mumbles, burying his face in your side, “I’m so proud of you, baby,” 
“Hm? Proud of her for what?” Suguru murmurs, half asleep, black locks strewn around his head like a halo. 
“I got the role, Sugu,” you lean down and kiss his nose, and he’s grinning wide, fingers winding into the back of your head to pull into a kiss, “you’re looking at the leading actor of a movie,” 
“You’re going to be in demand now, Princess,” Suguru says, dragging a thumb down your lips, “will you still make time for us?” 
“Of course, always — you’ll visit me on set right?”
“You sure, sweetheart? Maybe you’ll be too busy for us,” Satoru leans up and presses a kiss on your neck. 
“Maybe for you,” and he’s pouting, and you lean down to kiss his pout away, and then you get an email, “oh it’s the casting sheet for the other roles,” you scan the list, “oh,” 
“‘Oh?’” Suguru raises an eyebrow. 
“The male lead, he’s someone we know,” you sigh, rubbing your temples, “and I’m already getting a headache,” 
Satoru furrows his brow, as the two of them lean over your shoulders to look — Satoru scowling and Suguru glaring at your screen, as they say his name at the same time — as if summoning him from the underworld. 
“Sukuna?” 
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Ryomen Sukuna was both famous and infamous in the industry — famous for his portrayals of villains and antiheroes alike, ability to make you despise the enemy to the point of near or blatant admiration, and his skill of stepping into each role and taking it as his own. And he lives in infamy for, well, what happens between takes of the camera. 
“Look any longer and I’ll have you thrown off set, brat,” Sukuna says, without a glance at you, newspaper in hand as if he was pulled from thirty years ago, his phone seemingly laying discarded on a nearby. The P.A.s nearby cower a few feet away, trying to look preoccupied, as their terror has fully set in of this man. 
Or should you say monster?
“I see the stick up your ass makes you as pleasant as ever,” you mutter, and you don’t see that it earns you a smirk from him, his dark gaze takes over you, earning a glare from you, “now who’s staring?” 
He leans against the arm of his chair, “I was just noticing how lovely the view is without those two pests hanging on your every word,” and you’re rolling your eyes. 
“Jealous?” 
“Of your little throuple? No,” he smirks, rising from his chair, hands sliding into his pockets as he brushes by you, “because unlike those two,” he pauses, voice dropping to a whisper, “I know how to satisfy a woman on my own,” 
And you grit your teeth, holding your tongue — your relationship with Satoru and Suguru was a badly kept secret on the set or Jujutsu Kaisen, but it never was a problem — until now. 
You follow behind him, heading to the director’s trailer for your meeting before rehearsals began. 
“You want us to what?” 
“We spoke to your agents, and they agreed with us that it would be good publicity for the two of you to pretend to be a couple during the filming and leading up to production,” the director leans back in his seat, “it shouldn’t be a problem — the two of you have worked together before right?” 
You can’t hide your aghast expression in time, not before Sukuna glances at your face and sees the horror, and it puts a rare grin on his lips, “I’m in, what’s a little more acting?” 
You’re swallowing thickly, eyes flitting over Sukuna’s smug grin so fast you only hoped your gaze was sharp enough to cut,  “Can I please speak to you privately?” 
And Sukuna gets up from the edge of the table he leaned against, flashing you a wry grin, “see you out there, sweetheart,” and you wished you could rip out his heart and show him how very sweet you were — but you bite your tongue, waiting for the door to swing shut, “I—“ 
“Do you know part of the reason we choose you over the other actor vying for your role?” The director cuts you off, arms crossed over his chest, and you shut your mouth, shaking your head, “Jujutsu Kaisen has done tremendously this season — one of the most viewed shows across the world and do you know part of the reason?” and again you shake your head, “your P.R. stunts with Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto,” 
You knit your brow together — not your talent, your work, or art — but your boyfriends? “Your ability to have chemistry with the both of them have enticed the public and the number of times you’ve trended alone this season—“ 
Your fingers curl into fists, “With all due respect—“ 
“If you do this, the film will be a hit — i see you two already, there’s chemistry—“ 
You scoff, “more like a fucking bomb,” you mutter, running your fingers through your hair, “bottom line, do I have a choice?” 
“You do,” he says, arms crossed, “but so do I,” fuck, you grit your teeth. 
You emerge from the office, Sukuna waiting right outside, leaning against the wall right beside the doors,  “you fucking make this difficult—“ 
“And you’ll do what, brat?” his face twists with his frown, as he leans over, lumbering over you, “what do you think you could do to me?” And he’s clicking his tongue, the condescension rolling off of it, “director told us to play nice, so be nice,” his lips curl, “but I like you mean too,” 
He stalks off and you’re scrubbing a hand down your face. You were so fucking screwed. 
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“You what?” Satoru’s mouth gaped at you, twisted in pure disgust, while Suguru only stared at you, as expressionless as Satoru was expressive, “and you agreed?” 
“She didn’t have a choice, Satoru—“ 
“That’s because the bastard didn’t give her a choice,” Satoru’s face twists again, this time in anger, brow furrowed, but lips in a sharp smile, “so why don’t we not give him a choice either?” Satoru is pulling his phone out. 
“What are you doing—don’t—“ 
“One call, and I’ll have this guy firing Sukuna—“ 
“And there goes any actors or directors who will want to work for me if these guys go off, and you know they will,” you shake your head, “I’ve run this — it’s either I do the movie or I don’t,” 
Suguru frowns, hands in his pockets, “What do you want to do?” 
Your face in your hands, “I don’t want to drop the movie because of this, I can’t—“ 
“Then you do it,” Satoru rubs the back of his head, and Suguru tilts his head at him, “and after you become the biggest star out there, I’ll take care of that director and Sukuna,” 
You and Suguru both snort, “Well that was verging on heartfelt,” Suguru shakes his head, “but he’s right, you can’t let two bullies kick you off your movie, you earned this role — and when you act circles around everyone else, you’ll have carried it too,” 
You wrap your arms around both of them, “How’d I get so lucky?” You murmur, and Satoru’s nose brushes against yours before meeting your lips, while Suguru kisses wet kisses against your neck, “encouragement and threats of violence,” and Satoru only grins, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your lips. 
“Anytime, sweetheart,” and Suguru rolls his eyes, before his arm slips around your waist. 
“And he really means anytime, last time you talked to Toji, he pouted for two hours,” Satoru glared at Suguru, while you laughed, pulling the snowy haired actor close. 
“It’s so cute when you’re jealous, Toru,” you kiss his chin, eyes sliding to Suguru, “but you’re terrifying,” 
“What are you talking about?” And Satoru chuckles, tilting his head. 
“You mentioned me during Toji? You nearly yanked our princess away from him,” and Suguru furrows his brow, lips a thin line, “maybe we should drop by during rehearsals,” 
You scoff, “Yeah that sounds like a terrible idea,” and Suguru’s arms are wrapping around you, “Sugu—“ 
“If we can’t spend as much time together, then we better make this time count, isn’t that right, Satoru?” 
“You’re right,” and Satoru’s hands slide under your baggy t-shirt, “better use all the time we have,” and as they lead you to the bedroom, your limbs entangled, you knew you weren’t sleeping that night. 
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But you didn’t know that would be the last time you’d be sleeping with them at all for the next month. 
“You have to cut down the time you spend with anyone else — especially other men,” your agent told you, “that goes for Gojo and Geto too,” 
“Why is this role controlling everything in my real life too?” you mutter under your breath, “why does it matter we won’t get caught—“ 
“Like all the other times you didn’t get caught?” and your words leave you abandoned as no articulate response comes to mind, “it’s for a couple months. You can have them visit on set, you can still see them once a month, but not every day,” 
“But why—“ 
“Once a month reduces your chance of being seen with them exponentially over the next few months. Just deal with it. After this, you won’t have to put up with bullshit,” she hangs up, as you stare at your phone screen, squeezing it at the sight of Satoru and Suguru’s good luck texts — and why did it feel like you still always would have to keep putting up with bullshit? 
“Better not fucking cry. We have to pretend to fall in love in ten minutes — I would rather not be looking at something ugly this early,” Sukuna cuts into your thoughts, hands in his pockets, as he sips his coffee. 
Exhibit A. 
“We’re not shooting for an hour,” you were on set after getting ready, waiting for the weather to clear up for the shoot, and he gives a gruff chuckle
“Not that shoot.” 
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“Looks like Sukuna not only has taken over Itadori’s body, but also the heart of one of Jujutsu Kaisen’s fan favorites,” you groan, earbud slipping out for a moment, just like your life was slipping, “the actress and co-star were spotted getting cozy off set before shooting had even begun for the day,” 
Oh what the fuck. 
You toss your phone away before falling back in bed, far too empty without Satoru and Suguru, only their pillows to keep you company as you twisted in the sheets. You had passed off your social media to your agent to handle — it was bad enough when you were caught in a love triangle with Satoru and Suguru, but now Sukuna? You can only imagine what people would say about you. 
And you didn’t need to see it to do that. 
But that wasn’t important. It was your day off, you turned over in bed, burying your face against your boyfriends pillows — nothing a nap couldn’t fix. 
Knock. Knock. Knock. 
Or maybe not. You slide from the arms of sleep reluctantly, already missing the warmth of the covers as the cold air hits your skin. You’re rubbing your eyes as you check who it is before opening it. 
“Satoru? What are you—“ and his arms are around you in a moment, your breath catching, “Toru—“ 
“You see what they’re saying online?” His gaze is stoic, lips a thin line. 
“We can’t—“ and he’s shutting the door before locking it, before he’s had you pressed against the wood, the grain dragging against your skin. 
“They said you two make the perfect couple,” he cups your chin, his breath warming your lips, “even more than me or Suguru—“ his hand slides against the swell of your hip, “a walk, a coffee? Was that all?” 
Your brow knits together “Of course, you know I would never—“ and his lips ghost over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nosing at the soft skin of your neck, “Toru—“ you bite your bottom lip. 
“I know you wouldn’t, sweetheart, I know,” he says softly, “but I have to make sure he knows that,” his teeth grazes over your soft skin, “knows that you’re mine,” and his teeth digs into your soft flesh, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips, pain melting into pleasure, as your head lolls back against the door. 
“Toru, no I have rehearsals in a week,” you whine, but that just makes him soothe the blooming love bite with his tongue, “Toru—“ 
“Do you really want me to stop now, sweetheart?” he’s pulling your mouth open with his thumb, “your face says you don’t,” and his large palm slides down your body and into your shorts, the wet squelch and the brush of his fingers through the drenched fabric, “and your pretty cunt seems to agree,” 
“Toru,” you’re biting your lip, “fuck, you’re impossible,” and his mouth travels lower, as his other hand slides up under your shirt, squeezing your chest. 
“You’re the one who slept without anything under your clothes,” he murmurs in your ear, lips sliding against your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin there, “you’re so wet already, hear that? Did you touch yourself thinking of us? Want us to fuck you that bad after a week?” his lips ghost over your jaw. 
“Fuck, you talk so much,” you’re pouting, thighs pressing together, but he’s pushing them apart, “why are you teasing me so much?” 
And he pauses, ocean blues stormy instead of the tranquil skies you’re used to, “Sukuna touched you. He got to hold you,” he’s pouting now, “that privilege is for us, and he got to so easily,” 
“I didn’t want him to,” and he’s nuzzling your neck. 
“Let me erase his touch,” and he’s lifting you with the practiced ease he always had. 
“Where’s Suguru—“ and you yelp as he playfully tosses you on the bed, pulling his shirt over his head with one hand, a grin as he watches you bounce. 
“He’ll be here later,” and he’s kissing up your body, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts to pull them down, half lidded eyes with deep lust finding yours, “for now, you’re all mine.” 
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“I-I can’t,” you’re whimpering, your hands clutching at Satoru’s back, fingernails digging crescents into his perfect skin, only hoping he doesn’t have a shirtless shoot tomorrow, but you barely can register that with three of his fingers in your pussy, “Toru,” 
How many times had you orgasmed? Six or seven at least — it was nearly second nature at this point. Satoru knew what spots to touch, where to press, how to move to have you writhing underneath him in a moment. He’s knuckle deep, spreading your walls as his thumb toys with your clit, drawing another moan from your lips. Your release soaked his fingers and sheets underneath, his fingers surely wrinkled from their time spent inside your walls. 
And by his smirk against the swell of your breast, he knew it. 
“Yes you can baby, I know you have one more f’me,” and you’re already so close, but you have been — it’s been a repeated coil winding and snapping over and over, and you’re nearly to tears, back arching as he plunges his fingers somehow deeper, “know this pretty pussy too well, look at the way you’re sucking me in,” your insides flutter around his digits again, the tips dragging against your walls, “practically begging me to fuck you more, sweetheart,” 
“I’ll say,” and your eyes barely can flit up to meet Suguru’s wry smile, corners of his lips curled, “I see you’re as impatient as ever, Satoru — started without me,” and he’s tugging his shirt over his head, “but at least you’ve gotten her ready for me,” 
“Sugu—“ and Satoru adds a fourth finger, stuffed full with him, drawing a gasp from your lips. 
“Don’t want you to say Suguru’s name when I’m the one pleasuring you,” Sstoru clicks his tongue, “wanna hear you moan my name, sweetheart, when I make you cum,” 
“You’ll have plenty of chances to moan my name,” you make a whining noise in the back of your throat, pleasure felt as if it had burned out your nerves, but it still was able to overload them, the throbbing in your cunt a telltale sign, “you g’nna cum, pretty? Use your words for me?” 
“G’nna cum—ngh, Toru,” you feel that familiar knot in the pit of your stomach, your walls wring his fingers as you cum, hard, your head thrown back against the pillow. And the squelch of your cunt rings in your ears, as he finger fucks you through your orgasm. 
“Fuck, she’s so pretty everytime she falls apart for us,” Suguru groans, as Satoru leans over to kiss you, “so good for us, Princess,” you only moan in reply, lost in the pleasure that still floods your body, as Satoru pulls his fingers from you. 
And your eyes catch a glimpse of Satoru licking his fingers clean, one by one, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve ever had,” 
“Don’t hog her, Satoru,” Suguru is pulling Satoru away, settling between your thighs, “you both made such a mess,” and you gasp, as his lithe fingers brush against your still too sensitive folds, spreading them only for your juices to slip out, “I’m always stuck cleaning up, but in this case,” he drags the flat of his tongue up your needy cunt, a moan falling from your lips, as your fingers fisted in his black locks, “I don’t mind at all.” 
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But that night wasn’t the end of it — no, not by far. 
It wasn’t enough for them to ravish you, now they have to show up on set — their schedules lining up just perfect to see your rehearsals (though you think their schedules had some help from using the words “contagious” and “sickly”). However the only thing they were seemingly sick with was jealousy — especially so as you sat with Sukuna, going over lines for the next scene. 
You rubbed at your neck, feeling lucky that the marks they left had faded, but they still had begged you to show up to the shoot. 
“We won’t make you uncomfortable,” Satoru pouted, nuzzling your side, as you snort. 
“Just like you said you wouldn’t leave hickies on me?” You scoff, and suguru buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing sweet kisses along the marks Satoru left. 
“She has a point,” Suguru murmurs, but Satoru only pouts, “but I would like to be on set so that freak doesn’t try anything,” and you run your fingers through Satoru’s snowy locks, while leaning into Suguru’s touch, “he has a reputation of making moves on all his co-stars,” 
“So? It’s not like I’ll let him,” and Satoru’s gotten you pinned to the bed, your hands trying to break free but you can’t. 
“It’s not a matter of letting him, it’s matter of him trying to do something you don’t want,” and your brows knit together, as Satoru presses a soft kiss to your forehead. 
“There’ll be other people—“ 
“Other people who may very well look the other way, for someone like Ryomen Sukuna,” Suguru sighs, words almost whispered against your ear,  “you know that’s how this business can be,” and it was — it could be. The Jujutsu Kaisen set was a rare exception, but this movie — the director’s words still ringing in your ears — it was different. 
“Let us just make sure you’re safe, make sure you’re okay, and then we’ll go.” 
And that’s how you ended up with their states boring into the back of your head. 
“You bringing a pair of guard dogs with you everywhere now?” Sukuna spares a glance at your boyfriends, who were relegated to stand near your trailer — Satoru stood, arms crossed over his white t-shirt, a black jacket thrown over it, his blue eyes narrowed in frustration, as if his crossed arms were the only things holding him back from throttling Sukuna. While Suguru leaned against your trailer, scrolling on his phone in his dark navy button up, stealing glances at the two of you, his eyes narrowed and lips a thin line, “don’t know if they are ready to rip you apart or me,” 
You bite your tongue, wanting to say they had already ripped you apart last night, but you only shook your head, “They insisted on coming today, I don’t know why,” 
He grunts in reply, “It’s bad timing on your end, brat,” and your eyes snap to his, and he tilts his head, leaning against his hand, “you didn’t hear? The director wants us to film our big kiss at the end of the movie,”
Your blood runs cold, “Since when?” 
“Since you were late to our morning meeting, assuredly because of those two,” he jerks his head in the direction of Satoru and Suguru, before giving them both a wide grin, “they don’t know do they?” Your silence is all the answer Sukuna needs to give a rare laugh, “oh this will be entertaining, brat, and I thought acting with you would be boring.” 
Oh, you’re fucking screwed. 
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“Cut!” The director called for the billionth time, and you were about ready to wring his neck, and you were not the only one — if looks could kill, Satoru and Suguru would have had the director skewered a million times over by now. Unfortunately for them, looks did not kill, “we need more passion,” 
And you’re biting back a groan, as Sukuna smirks, leaning over to whisper, “don’t look so disappointed, I see the two idiots haven’t taught you to kiss,” 
“More like the partner I have doesn’t make kissing him appealing,” you bite back, running a hand through your hair as you spoke to the intimacy coordinator again, but your eyes keep sliding over to Satoru and Suguru, “fuck,” how were you supposed to do this with them staring you down? 
“Let’s try it again,” you both get in place for the shot, the clap of the clapperboard, as Sukuna’s fingers brushed against your cheek again. You stepped into the role, letting yourself be consumed with the passion of your character, channeling what you felt for your own loves. 
And finally your lips met his — you felt nothing, only the pressure of lips meeting one another, but you tried to show emotion, fingers clutching at his shirt in desperation, the small gasps and sighs parting your lips between kisses, and the way your hand then slid up to rest at the nape of his neck. 
“I love you, more than anything,” you murmur against his lips, nose brushing against his, “more than anyone. You can’t go. Not without me,” 
“What choice do I have?” Sukuna mutters back, his arm coiling around your waist, “it’s too dangerous for you to come along,” 
“Who said you get to make my decisions for me?” your lips curl, “and who says I can’t buy my own ticket to come with you?” And he’s shaking his head, “listen,” your fingers cup his cheek, “don’t think, just let it happen,” and you’re leaning even closer, breath warming his lips, his breath hitching. 
“Cut!” And you’re trying to pull away, but Sukuna holds you there, leaning forward, making you flinch, only to whisper in your ear. 
“Sorry, just wanted to give them more of a show,” and he lets go, lips curled in a wide grin, “looks like we have a break now, so have fun, but not too much,” he laughs, as the director beckons him over. 
You glance at Satoru and Suguru — oh fuck. 
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“Sugu—uumph—“ Suguru barely let you get a step inside the trailer before he pinned you to the metal door, his hands dragged over your sides.
“Hold still, Princess, I have to overwrite every place he touched you,” his fingers trace over your cheeks, lips grazing your jaw, his thumb dragged over your lips, before catching on your tongue, “did you brush your tongue against his — run it over the seam of his lips before slipping it inside? Flick it over like you do? Did you enjoy kissing him, sweetheart?”
“Of course I didn’t—“ and Satoru’s taking the opportunity to kiss you, teeth dragging over your bottom lip. 
“Course she didn’t, but I’m sure he did,” Satoru’s fingers traced over your jaw, “enjoyed our sweets’ even sweeter lips, didn’t he?” And Satoru kisses down your jaw, while Suguru is sinking down to his knees, large palms sliding up and hiking up your dress, “should leave some marks to remind him who you belong to,” his teeth dig into the soft of your flesh. 
“Toru! No, I still have to finish the shoot — the makeup artists—“ you whine, but god, it feels so good, as his tongue flicks against his teeth marks, “fuck,” 
“Be careful, someone will hear you, Princess,” Suguru murmurs, soft kisses to your inner thighs, “hear how good you’ll feel,” his teeth sink into your thigh, nipping and sucking, “and how good we’re both making you feel,” 
“Sugu, ah, I—fuck,” and Satoru is eagerly swallowing your moans with his lips, taking the chance to slip his tongue in, while Suguru noses at the soft of your thigh. 
“She’s already dripping, how are you so pretty here, Princess?” And he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, not that you could with Satoru’s tongue down your throat, as his lips press a kiss to your messy folds, nose bumping against your puffy clit, “tastes even better,” he moans, sound reverberating against your sensitive cunt. 
“Oh that won’t do at all, we’ve barely started,” Satoru tsks all the while tugging your sleeves down to reveal your bare chest underneath the dress barely on your body at this point, crumpled fabric pushed up and down into the middle by them, “no bra, Princess? For us or for the camera?” 
“For you,” you manage between moans, Suguru’s tongue tracing teasing circles around your clit, “always for you—“ the word trails off into a moan, as Suguru meanly sucks on the sensitive nub, “ngh, fuck—“ your knees are buckling, quaking as if your bones were made of rubber, a gasp pulled from your lips, when Satoru’s lips press a teasing kiss to your already erect nipple, while he toys with the other between his forefinger and thumb, pinching and pulling. And he switches, welcoming the other with a graze of his teeth and the flick of his tongue. 
The sounds of the lewd squelch of Suguru’s mouth against your dripping cunt filled your ears, volts from his touch reaching every inch of you, “so wet f’me, pretty, you like thinking someone could hear us fucking you?” Suguru mutters, his lips pulling away for a moment, as his long fingers spread your folds for him — every inch of you exposed, “fuck, you’ve dripped all over the floor of the trailer, Princess,” 
“All that just from Suguru’s mouth?” Satoru smirks, dragging a finger down your puffy lips, while his other hand gropes at your breast, “imagine how sopping you’ll be when we fuck you,” 
And you’re whining, as Suguru teases your entrance with a finger, “You fuckers—“ you yelp as Suguru picks you up with ease and tosses you into the nearby bed — a request you had made so you could nap between scenes or during times you weren’t needed on set — not that you had gotten to use it, until now. 
Satoru’s pulling the dress up and over your head, tossing the garment away, both of their gazes dragging over your exposed skin. Satoru flips you onto your stomach, and you hear the creak of the bed behind you and you know Suguru repositioned himself between your thighs. 
“On your knees, pretty,” Suguru’s hands are lifting your legs, his fingers already teasing your sopping hole again, and he’s bracing an arm around your thighs, “such a good girl,” and his fingertips breach you only to pull away, even as your walls try to beckon him inside. 
“Fuck,” you’re groaning, needy cunt begging for release, you needed it, needed it so bad. 
“Such a filthy mouth,” Satoru clicks his tongue, as he undoes the buckle of his belt, tugging his boxers and pants down to free his weeping erection. And god, his cock is so pretty — long and pink, with beads of pearly precum dripping from the slit, lovely veins running up and down his length, “how ‘bout I put it to use sweetheart?” 
And the tip brushes against your face, smearing against your lips, before you part your lips and let his dick slap against your tongue, before letting it part your pretty lips. The tip of your tongue traces his slit, tasting his pre, as you sucked and licked along his length, until his sweet grunts slipped from his lips. And fuck, you know he would feel so good inside you, long cock reaching the places he always did and that you never could. 
But it was hard for you to stay focused when Suguru bas two thick fingers buried in your right cunt, dragging against your walls, moaning around Satoru’s length. And it feels almost too good, as if you’d melt between them, burning from their touches. And you’d still always ask for more. 
Satoru’s fingers dig into your locks, as he moans, “Fuck, s’good for me, baby,” his hips buck against your mouth, his hair sticking to his forehead, sticky with sweat, “not gonna last much longer, Suguru,” 
And Suguru pulled out his fingers, licking them clean, his face still sticky with your cum, as you whine at the absence, “she’s not either, but I think she needs something more,” and you feel his cockhead drag against your folds, and you’re whining, “not gonna put it inside baby, too much of a mess, and can’t do too much, can we?” And you feel his lips curl in a smirk, “after all, your boyfriend out there might mind,” he’s pressing your thighs together, beginning to rock forward, sending you deeper onto Satoru’s cock, making him hiss. 
“Fuck, take it, sweetheart,” his fingers tilting your head up slightly to find your eyes glazed over in pleasure, puffy lips with saliva and precum dripping from the corners, and it only makes him want to fuck your throat, “gonna go back on set like this? All messy from your ‘side pieces?’” 
“Fuck, she twitched hard when you said that,” Suguru is fucking between your thighs, his hard cock rubbing against your dripping slit again and again, delicious friction sending you closer and closer, “fuck, g’nna cum for me sweet girl?” 
And you’re moaning around Satoru, and his tip brushes against your throat with one particularly hard thrust from Suguru, and that’s it. 
Satoru’s moaning your name, unable to hold back, as he cums in your mouth, his hot load pouring down your throat, dick twitching as it continues to spurt as he rocks his hips into you. Suguru pinches and rubs your clit hard, rocking his leaking cock into you, and you cum, walls fluttering around nothing, as you soak him in your release. 
The moans of their names on your lips send Suguru tumbling over too, as he pulls back and pumps, before cumming all over your back with his thick seed. 
You’re pulling yourself off Satoru, with a wet pop, cum and spit trickling down your lips, as your tongue flicks out to clean it off. And Satoru groans, as he lays down and settles beside you, “don’t make me fuck you right here,” 
And Suguru helps you turn on your side, legs still shaking from your orgasm, as he slips up behind you, his softening cock pressed against you, pressing sweet kisses to your sweat soaked skin. 
“Think anyone heard us?” you mumble, burying your face in the crook of Satoru’s neck, and their chuckles rumble against you, making you shiver. 
Suguru answers, “No, if someone did, they would have come—“ 
There’s a harsh knock on the door, followed by the call of your name, “The director’s calling you to set,” it was your agent’s voice, “so I suggest all three of you clean up and come out.” 
Well, fuck. 
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“How has shooting the film been so far?” 
“It’s been wonderful. It’s so different from filming a television series, and I’ve loved learning the nuances of film and how it’s made,” you say, sitting in the worlds most uncomfortable chair behind Sukuna, who managed to look interestedly disinterested. 
“Speaking of which, you two have worked together before, right?” 
“We have,” Sukuna replies before you have a chance to answer, “the two of us haven’t had many scenes together before, so being able to finally act together is…fate,” 
You force yourself to give a wry smile, “I forget he’s such a romantic, when he isn’t too busy calling me a brat,” the words slip out and you’re instantly regretting your words — fuck, fuck, fuck. You really just said Ryomen Sukuna called you brat — in an interview that will air on TV but also live on the internet. 
“A brat huh?” The interviewer chuckled awkwardly, “is she a bit of a diva on set?” 
“Oh and off,” Sukuna’s grin grows all the more wide, leaning against his hand and stealing a glance at you, “but I know how to tame her,” and you self consciously tug at your high neck sweater, the bites Satoru and Suguru well concealed — and you’d never have him pass it off as his own. 
Oh, you would kill him. If not for the fact that you had dug your own grave, and he only did you the favor of pushing you in and burying you. No the only funeral was your own. 
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“How bad?” You ask your agent on the way home, earbuds in your ear as you sit in the back of the car, partition up as the driver makes their way to your home. 
“How bad? You mean how great! We’re getting so much traffic on that interview. People keep talking about you and Sukuna. You’re trending again,” and that was the last thing you wanted to hear and the first thing she wanted to tell you. 
Why the fuck did you want to be an actor again? 
“What are they saying about me?” 
“There’s some negative stuff about both of you, but that’s expected — mostly people surprisingly, uh, like you better with Sukuna than Gojo or Geto—“ 
“What? Why?” God, fuck the public’s want for an older man. 
“I don’t know. You guys have this chemistry in interviews. The way you guys banter it feels so personal and electric I guess?” Her voice almost makes it sounds like she agreed.
“Are you saying that or the fans?” The only thing electric about your conversation with Sukuna was the feeling of rage running through your veins faster than a million volts. 
“I don’t know. I’m sure it’s mostly fangirls of Gojo and Geto who are relieved they aren’t taken,” she adds, your silence seemingly scaring her, “you should look on the bright side, people are really excited for the movie, and after what happened in your trailer…the director’s happy too,” you see a text from Satoru and Suguru. 
The Boys 💕🤍🖤
Bangs Baby: when are you coming home? 
Six Eyed Dork: we’re already making dinner. 
And you scrub a hand down your face, never having such irritation over the prospect of dinner, “Tell that to my makeup artist,” because you know you’ll be littered with marks by the end of this. 
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“We’re adding a sex scene,” and you nearly spit out your drink that morning, sitting at the round table with the director, several staff members, and an extremely unfazed Sukuna. 
“What?” you say, trying hold your tongue, that was only writhing under your hold to say something much, much worse, “that’s not anywhere in the script or the source material,” 
“It was my suggestion,” Sukuna lifts his hand casually, before pressing his hand to his chin, painted black nails gleaming in the dim light of the early morning, “the characters felt lacking,” 
Then play your role better. That’s what you wanted to say. But instead you ask, “how so?” 
And Sukuna glances at the director, who clears his throat, eyes shifting from him to you, “We thought it would be better to build more intimacy between the characters. Add a certain level of—“ 
“Raunchiness?” you scoff. 
“Tasteful raunchiness,” Sukuna corrects, doing nothing to suppress his smirk, “if you don’t want to, I’m sure we can make due with the stunt double—“ 
Fucker. He could have his pick of any movie — he was a pillar of the industry, but you had to be stuck with him. And stuck with the director following his every, irritating whim. 
You grit your teeth, “when are we shooting it?” And Sukuna grins wider, leaning back in his chair. 
“About that—“ 
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“You’re going where?” You resisted the urge to rub at your temples, as you pack your things, Satoru’s pout filling the majority of the screen. 
“You heard me. We’re filming in Canada,” with a flight that left the next day, you barely had time to pack, much less talk. Fuck, you don’t have a thing for the cold, but you were told that coats and thermals would be provided — or at least they better be, “I’ll be gone for a couple weeks,” you say, wondering if the sounds of you packing would be enough to drown out or enough sweaters would somehow soften the blow. 
“Weeks?” Suguru repeats, taking the phone from Satoru, “sweetheart, you had said filming would be over soon enough — you said a month of filming in Japan—,” and you sigh, it seems like you had been doing a lot of that lately. 
The throbbing in your head only got worse — the long shoots and lack of sleep weighing on your body like iron weights around your neck, “I know, love, but the director wanted to add more scenes,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “there’s one more thing,” and Satoru is pushing into view of the camera as well, a click of Suguru’s as he shoots a glare at him, “the director decided to add…an intimate scene to the film,” 
Silence, but Suguru speaks first, “And that wasn’t in the script before?” And you shake your head. 
Satoru gives a bitter laugh, “Such bullshit. They planned it and got you to invest yourself in the movie—“ he cuts himself off, “sweetheart, I want to have a word with the director,”
“No, Toru, it won’t help,” you run your fingers through your hair, trying to keep your tone level, “it just won’t. It will just make me look like I have to rely on my boyfriends for protection,” 
“It still isn’t right, what they are doing to you is exploitative,” Suguru cuts in, “adding a sex scene last minute after you already spent weeks filming—“ 
“You don’t think I know that?” you say quietly, “what am I supposed to do? Quit? Let you guys run to the director to protect me? Great, either way, my career would be over,” the words slip out far more cutting than you want, but this has been a knife you’ve honed against stones thrown at you, and you were tired of being the one to take the blows. 
Satoru furrows his brow, “What are we supposed to do? Watch you get taken advantage of?”
“No, but don’t talk down to me like I don’t understand what’s happening,” you snap, “these weeks I’ve had to deal with fucking Sukuna and these shoots, while balancing your feelings too and I’m tired of it. I’m just done,” you shake your head, willing your voice not to break, “I’ll text you both when I board and land, ok?”
“Sweetheart—“ 
“Baby—“ 
“Bye,” and you hang up, eyes burning not just from your lack of sleep but now everything else too. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t see them. You couldn’t quit the movie. You couldn’t fix this. You couldn’t do anything — you glanced at your suitcase — except keep going. 
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“You look like hell,” you don’t bother looking at Sukuna when he speaks, and out of all the seats, how did you end up next to him? Either you had the absolute worst luck in the world — or bad luck had a little help from your agents and the director. 
“You look like you’d know—been to your kingdom lately?” you’re placing your suitcase away when a flight attendant rushes over to do it for you, and you thank them, before rifling through your bag for your headphones. Noise canceling headphones that were going to be your best friend as long as you were stuck with him. 
“Why visit a kingdom when my queen is here?” Your eye twitches, and you only wish that planes worked the same as ships when it came to jurisdiction. And if so, you would have tossed him into the high seas without a second though. You could start over — no extradition on Satoru’s island. 
You glanced at your phone — no reply to your text about getting on the second flight. And they had both barely responded to your other texts about boarding and landing. Maybe it was your fault. You had blown up at them, and ignored all their calls and texts all day, until they finally stopped (even Satoru had given up sending you selfies of him crying). You switched it into airplane mode and locked it, tucking it away into your bag, before taking your seat and buckling your seatbelt. 
“Trouble in paradise?” And you scowl, pulling out your headphones, “c’mon you can tell me about your other boyfriends — I know I’m your favorite,” 
“Do you ever shut up?” You put your headphones on, your eyes growing heavy as the plane begins to prepare for take off. You choose a playlist, and start to fall asleep. The only good thing about this flight was you could finally get some sleep. 
And maybe your life wouldn’t be hell when you woke up. 
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“I already got us a private jet,” Satoru walks into Suguru’s place, suitcase in hand, as he tugs his mask off, “we can be in Canada by tomorrow—we just need to pack—“ 
“What are you talking about?” Suguru looks up from his phone, “have you even thought this through, dumbass? She barely wants us coming over because of paparazzi, you think if someone sees us in Canada with her that they will write it off as a coincidence?” 
“If we’re careful, it won’t come to that,” he sets down his things, “you heard her, Suguru, she said she’s done,” 
“She’s just tired and frustrated,” Suguru sighs, tossing his phone aside, “we haven’t exactly made this any easier on her either,” 
“I know, which is why we should go make it up to her,” Satoru sighed, “I can tell by her texts that she’s upset — it’s all periods and short one word responses. Y’know that’s bad,” he’s pulling out his phone to show Suguru your texts — and Suguru ignored the several sad selfies Satoru had sent, before handing it back. 
“And we should make her more upset by doing the one thing she told us not to do?” Suguru shakes his head, “we’re better off waiting for her to calm down and come to us—“ and Satoru stares at his phone, “what is it? Did she text?” 
“No, worse,” he shows Suguru a news article — ARE THINGS HEATING UP ON AND OFF SET? SUKUNA SPOTTED WITH HIS COSTAR GETTING COZY ON PLANES AND IN THE AIRPORT.  
And below were images of you and him asleep, fingers interlaced on the plane, and a picture of him with his arm around your waist walking through the airport. 
Suguru’s eyes narrow, “Do you want risk losing her, Suguru?” And he knows it’s a bad idea, he knows it may only make things worse, but — he looks at the pictures of you and Sukuna again — losing you would be far worse. 
“When’s the flight?” 
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CLICK! 
You stir at the sound, as you hear it again and again, shifting in your sleep. Fuck, what was that noise? Everything’s heavy, thoughts swimming through thick syrup as it tries to break to the surface and into consciousness. Another click makes you grasp at your headphones with one hand, the other caught on something, but you feel nothing but your neck and shirt. And finally, your eyes fly open just to find a camera lens in front of your face, and something holding your hand. 
Or rather someone. 
“What the—“ 
“Finally woke up? How was your coma?” and the photographers are shooed away, as you pull your fingers free only for him to drop your hand, wiping your hand on the seat, “I didn’t do anything but hold it,” he shrugs, “probably—“ 
You scowl, “my headphones?” He holds them up, and you gape at him, “they fell off. You’re quite the restless sleeper,” and you snatch them back. 
“They fell off or you took them off for that photo op,” you snap, glancing at him, “since when did I give my permission to be photographed while sleeping?” 
“When you decided to go into this business,” he replies drily, dry as his skin was from holding his hand, “are you that naive? Can anyone keep anything from anyone without paying them off one way or another? I’m pretty sure that’s how your little throuple does it,” 
And you couldn’t deny it — the paparazzi more than ever was a toll or a tool — a toll to pay when you wanted word to stay quiet, and a tool when you wanted things to blow up. And Satoru had been paying them off since the three of you had started this — insisting that his connection gave him discounts, but it was more likely to blow his father’s money. 
“So what was that photo op about?” The plane is slowly descending now, your ears popping, as you spare a glance outside, and he only scoffs, as if to ask if you were that stupid? 
“To announce our arrival.” 
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“Why are there so many security guards and people?” you mutter, tugging at your mask, as you hurry through the airport with what felt like a military and police escort of men around you. 
“To create a scene, generate interest,” Sukuna seemed uninterested as he strolled along the airport, raising an eyebrow, “not used to this? The adoring fans,” and you spare a glance at the crowds, taking pictures more than even looking at your actual faces. 
“This is adoring?” and then the security guards begin to stumble as the crowd grows a rowdy, as people push through to get through their gates, others try to duck between the security guards to get closer. A security guard knocks against you, nearly sending you tumbling,  “what—“ 
And a wrist grabs you and pulls you hard, as the security guard tumbles to the ground, another arm around your waist. He steadies you, as you sigh, glancing to find Sukuna. 
“Be careful,” you blink — wow was he actually a nice— and then he nearly shoved you away, “don’t need you getting injured and messing up my movie,” he strides off, and you watch dumbstruck, as you watch his back recede until bodyguards check on you and urge you along. 
You can’t believe you thought even for a second that Ryomen Sukuna was nice. 
And now you had to spend the entirety of tomorrow kissing up to him — literally. 
Fucking ass. 
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“You can’t seduce me into letting you go,” Sukuna smiled, one hand on your hip and the other resting against the wall, pinning you against the headboard of the bed, “just because I let you win tonight—“ 
“Then I’ve won the battle,” you reply, fingers toying with a lock of his hair, twirling it around your finger, before dragging a finger down his cheek, “it’s only a matter of time until I win the war,” 
He chuckles, hand cupping your chin, “such a brat, how did I ever fall for you?” And you only lean close, brushing your lips against his chin, delighting in the way his body shivered, “fuck—“ 
“You love it,” and he’s gotten you pinned to the bed in a moment with one hand, the other large palm sliding up your body, dragging your shirt along with it— 
“CUT!” 
You both sigh, glancing at the director as you both untangle yourselves — how many times did that make? Twelve? Fourteen? 
“I think we’ll be dead before he gets it right,” Sukuna mutters under his breath, as a P.A. brings him a towel to dab at his skin. 
“We’re calling it for the day,” the director announced, hair askew from the number of times he had pulled at it, “we’ll resume tomorrow, first thing,” there was almost an audible groan from the crew as everyone packed up for the day. 
After all that, you’re making your way to your hotel room when someone stops you, you’re trying to brush past them absentmindedly, but his voice stops you dead in your tracks. 
“Can’t run from us that easy, sweetheart,” and your head snaps up, finding Satoru in front of you, and you’re speechless, no words finding their way to your lips, before the hotel room next to yours opens up. 
“Princess, in here, before anyone sees,” and Satoru’s hand tries to find yours, but you ignore it, walking into the room, not speaking until the door clicks behind Satoru. 
“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” and you waver when you see Satoru’s sad gaze and Suguru’s tight frown, and you sigh, evening out your tone, “sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped — what are you guys doing here? I told you it’s risky—“ 
“We didn’t want to leave things the way they were, I couldn’t. Not like that,” Satoru shakes his head, “we needed to see you, baby, I couldn’t—“ he breaks off. 
Suguru speaks in his stead, “We couldn’t fathom that was the last time we spoke,” 
Your brows knit together, “Why would you think—“ and you’re sighing, scrubbing a hand down your face as your words ring in your own ears, and you know where their minds had went — fuck, “I would never ever break up with you two,” you’re stepping forward, “you’re idiots, but you’re mine,” and their arms are slipping around you in an instant, “I just got frustrated with everything, it wasn’t just you guys — the movie, Sukuna, long shoots, lack of sleep, and not seeing you two—“ 
“We should be the ones who’re sorry,” Satoru mumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “we made it all about us and didn’t see that you needed us,” 
“We’re never going to make that mistake again, Princess,” Suguru presses a soft kiss to your neck, and you sigh, stress melting under touch with the ease of a lit candle wick melts wax, “we’re sorry for being so selfish,” 
“Yeah, Suguru’s sorry—“ and that earns Satoru a sharp elbow from said actor, “and I’m sorry too. We didn’t mean to add more stress. You’re already dealing with so much. We should have been there for you, sweetheart,” he finds your lips in a sweet kiss that has you sighing, “we trust you — it’s just—“
“Him, I know, but I hate him,” you say, and Suguru chuckles, fingers turning your head towards him, pressing his forehead agaisnt yours, “seriously, everything we’ve done is just for the movie or for publicity,” Suguru kisses you, teeth teasingly running along his bottom lip. 
“You seemed pretty cozy with him in those pictures,” Satoru presses open mouthed kisses along your neck, and you blink. 
“What pictures?” and then it occurs to you, “on the plane? They framed those—“ and Satoru’s cutting you off with another kiss, “Toru—“ and Suguru nuzzles the nape of your neck, “Sugu—“ 
“Just let us take care of you tonight,” Suguru murmurs, lazy fingers drawing circles on your hips, “been too long since we’ve seen you, Princess,” 
In a moment they have you on your back on the bed, Satoru’s eyes gleaming with need, their hands slipping up your body, “I’m yours,” you murmur, “both of yours.” 
And that’s all they needed to hear. 
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“Toru, I’m trying to make us breakfast,” you chuckle, half laughing, half exasperated, as he nearly engulfs you in a hug from behind, his face buried in the crook of your neck. 
“So? I’m not in the way,” Satoru mumbles, sighing as he kisses the skin behind your ear, “right, Suguru?” 
“You’re hindering the process, Toru,” you’re trying to flip pancakes for said boyfriend as he traces constellations of kisses against your shoulder and neck, “right Sugu?” 
“Now, now, play nice you two,” Suguru replies drily, glancing at the two of you from the couch, “can’t blame us for missing you, sweetheart,” 
“Y’know how many months I had to go without being able to cuddle you,” Satoru’s pouting against your skin now, “I have to make up for all that lost time,” 
Shooting had finally ended three months ago — after a month and half spent in Canada, you flew back to Japan. Satoru and Suguru had taken up residence in a hotel room next door (under fake names of course) for about a week before flying back because of work. Satoru had tried to convince you to let him fly back and forth, but for the sake of the environment (and your sanity), you sent them both home. 
And still, they both were acting as if you had been away for several years, not months. 
“Does it have to be now?” And Satoru nods, grinning, and you relent, “well, this is much better than having dinner with Sukuna,” 
“There’s a name we haven’t heard in a while,” Suguru raises an eyebrow, as he strolls into the kitchen, hands in his pockets. 
“Thankfully,” Satoru adds, brow wrinkled, “what does he want?” 
“Just a dinner to celebrate the end of production,” you sigh, as you step past Satoru to grab a plate for the pancakes, “the movie is going to have its premiere in a few months, so it’s also to plan ahead for that,” 
“Did they announce a date yet?” Suguru asks, leaning against the counter on the other side of you, beginning to prepare coffee. 
“Not yet, but it should be sometime this coming summer,” and you’re flipping pancake after pancake for the three of you, a stack forming, until you’re finally done. You catch the two of them shsring a look, until Satoru asks: 
“Can you get us tickets to the premiere?” 
“Of course I’m inviting the entire JJK cast,” you smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to Suguru’s cheek, “why would you two be any different?”
“And what about us two?” Satoru hums, as he shuts off the stove for you, daring less than an inch away from your lips, “Do we get the VIP treatment?”
“Uh-huh,” you bite back a laugh. 
“Does the VIP package include you?” Suguru murmurs, a smirk against your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth, 
“Of course,” you murmur, as Suguru’s arms wrap around your waist, lips brushing against your pulse, “once we’re away from cameras and phones and press,” 
“All access?” Suguru murmurs, large palms slipping under your shirt, making you shiver from their cool touch, and you roll your eyes, as Satoru presses a kiss to your forehead. 
“All access.” 
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“I don’t understand why we had to get ready together,” you grumble, assistants gather around you, one adjusting your gown, another fixing your makeup, and a third trying to tame your hair, “we could have just been picked up and taken to the venue together,” 
The two of you had been ushered into these adjoining hotel rooms bright and early — much too early for you to even be awake, much less have to deal with Sukuna. The only consolation was while you were getting your makeup and clothes on, you didn’t have to see him. 
“Someone might have seen us,” Sukuna replies, letting the assistant put his watch on, “or your throuple would undoubtedly get in the way,” you shoot a glare at him. 
“Can you not call us that? They have names,” and Sukuna scoffs, fingers running over his charcoal suit coat to ensure there wasn’t even a single crease, the cut of his lapels sharp as knives. 
“Like I care to remember them, brat,” and you raise an eyebrow. 
“Do you even know my name?” he bears no reaction, but the corner of his lips twitch, “you don’t even fuc—“ 
“Are we all ready?” Your agent enters the hotel room with the director, “we should start heading to the venue,” and Sukuna brushed past you, and out the door, his entourage following behind him. 
And you sighed, you were surely ready — ready to put this movie and Sukuna far behind you. 
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But of course he wasn’t behind you, so much so that he was beside you. Plastered to your side for the press to eat up, his arm slithered around your waist, as you both made your way down the carpeted premiere. 
You had been to a premiere for both seasons of Jujutsu Kaisen — but never like this. The camera flashes were blinding, the sounds of the crowd deafening, and the walk down the carpet amongst all these others was disorienting. You were almost grateful for Sukuna’s gruff and short temper, he kept most interviews on the carpet from dragging too long, 
You finally make your way inside and Sukuna parts from your side a moment without a word, beckoned off by someone or another. And it feels like too much. The day, the long hours, the carpet — all of it bears down on you at once, and you feel as if someone sucked the air from your lungs, using it to fill this hall with the smallest remnants of oxygen. 
Fuck, you grasped tightly to your clutch, you were going to pass out if you didn’t go somewhere, somewhere else with less goddamn people, but where? 
And you only take a stumbling step forward, before an arm is around your waist again, and a different voice murmurs in the opposite side, “Lost without us, sweetheart?” Suguru’s voice steadies you, keeps you from slipping deeper away from them, while Satoru’s touch grounds you. 
“Let’s get her somewhere private, hm? Does that sound okay, Princess?” And you’re nodding; as the two of them discreetly usher you away, you barely can keep your eyes open, still feeling your breath lodged in your throat, choking on the very thing that was supposed to keep you alive. It doesn’t feel okay until you’re sitting on a bed, holding your head. 
You feel the bed divut in as they both sit on either side of you, and their bodies brush against yours as if to ask for permission; and you’re leaning against their touch, until they engulf you in it. 
And this was what you needed. 
You don’t think about premieres, ruining your makeup, tripping, cameras, or anything else — just both of them and you. 
“Are you okay, baby?” Suguru murmurs softly, and you’re nodding, “did you get overwhelmed?” And you nod again, and he sighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I really wish you could have come with us,” 
“I told ya we should have just taken her with us anyway,” you know Satoru’s face is scrunched up in worry, “the movie’s out anyway,” 
“Not like I didn’t agree — I just told you she would never agree,” Suguru muttered, most assuredly rolling his eyes, “plus, we said we wouldn’t do that to her again,” 
“Can you guys not talk like I’m not here?” and they instantly refocus on you, as you bury your head in the crook of Suguru’s neck, while Satoru does the same to you, pressing butterfly kisses to your skin, as Suguru carefully carded through your locks. And you just sat like that for a while, until you grew calmer by the second and finally lift your head, “sorry,”
“What do you have to be sorry for?” Satoru furrowed his brow, “you didn’t drool all over Suguru’s suit did you?” and you elbow him lightly in the ribs. 
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t mind anyway, I’m used to you drooling on me one way or another,” and now you glare at Suguru, “you’re the one apologizing for no real reason,” 
“There is a reason,” you sigh, shaking your head, “we should be out there enjoying the party, but instead, we’re—” 
“All alone, with the two most important people to us?” Satoru tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “if anything, this was exactly the VIP treatment I was looking for, just us alone, in a room together?” Satoru’s tilting your head if only to press kisses up the side of your neck, nosing your pulse. 
“He’s right, princess, we only came here for you — no one else, we’re so proud of you,” Suguru murmurs, his hand finding its way onto your thigh, “and all we want is to see you happy,” 
Happy? When had been the last time you had been happy in the last few months? It had been far too long since it had been consistent — but the two people that ran consistently through every up, far too little downs? Satoru and Suguru. It had been so hard — and now it was almost over. Only a few more interviews and public appearances, and you would be done with Sukuna.
But you didn’t want to think about Sukuna now — you wanted them. More than ever. 
Your lips find Suguru’s first, lips sliding against his — a hesitation for a millisecond, before he’s melting into it, his tongue dragging against the seam of your lips, before you’re pulling away, soft pants filling the silence, until a warm hand is turning your head, and Satoru kisses you next, needy and persistent, as he always was, his fingers threaded in your hair, grazing against the nape of your neck. But Suguru doesn’t waste time, a hand sneaking up the silt of your dress, dragging against your pantyhose, snapping the skintight, translucent fabric against your skin. 
You part from Satoru for a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to his, and you see the lipstick smeared on both their lips — you can only imagine what little you have left is painting more than just your lips at this point. 
“If we don’t stop right now, don’t know if I can, baby,” Satoru murmurs, guiding your palm to his already hard erection, “it’s risky,” 
“It is, someone could catch us,” Suguru is still drawing tempting circles on your upper thigh, his nose brushes against yours as he presses his forehead against yours, “What do you want to do?” 
And you knew the right thing to do would be to fix your faces and return to the party, act as if this hadn’t happened, as the three of you suffer through an evening without each other — until you get home far too late and far too tired to fall asleep beside them. That was the right thing, the sensible thing. 
But your need for them both was hardly sensible. It wasn’t sensible when the three of you had gotten drunk multiple nights after shooting together — Satoru only drinking a shot each time at your and Suguru’s insistence to get far too plastered too quickly. It wasn’t sensible when the two asked you who the better kisser was — your character the envy of every fangirl as you got to kiss the two “strongest” sorcerers — and then when you cheekily replied you weren’t sure, they didn’t hesitate to kiss you then and there, one after another — and you realized you never wanted to stop (and the three you never did that night). It wasn’t sensible to hook up again a few nights later, heading back to Satoru’s place to hang out, only for the three of you end up in bed together yet again — a habit formed, but that you couldn’t quit. And it surely wasn’t sensible when the three of you had started to date — it was far from it, in a business like this. But you did it anyway — because it was them. 
It was always them. 
You rise to your feet, facing them a moment, before turning your back to them, looking over your shoulder at them, “Well? You’re going to have to help me get out of this dress because I’m not letting you two ruin it.” 
And they share a look, before their lips curl into grins, as they reply. 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
“Of course, baby.” 
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“Suguru no—“ and he snaps the fabric of your pantyhose against you making you whimper, “I told you not—“ 
“To ruin your dress, you said nothing about your pantyhose,” his nails digging crescents into your lovely thighs, “and you should worry more about Satoru,” 
Satoru’s lips were nearly glued to your neck, tongue dragging up the side, until he pulled away to scowl at Suguru, “Eh? Why me?”
Suguru shrugs, “who left all those marks all over her neck last time?” 
“You left marks over her thighs,”
“Jealous?” 
“No, but I think you are that everyone saw mine, but no one saw yours,” and Suguru scoffs, 
“My marks aren’t for anyone else but me,” and his fingers tear at the fabric of your pantyhose, as you whine, lips curling as your skin is freed, “and if anyone else was seeing them, well,” his thumb drags across the swell of your far too wet cunt, drawing a pretty gasp from your lips, “I’d have to punish her wouldn’t I?” He kisses the skin exposed between the patchwork tears, making you whimper, “make her cum over and over, until she begs me to stop, show everyone how I fuck her well,” 
“Not as well as I do,” Satoru replies, “isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“I’m not answering that,” you scoff — you knew nothing good came from getting between their fights, except maybe getting between their bodies. 
“Then maybe we’ll have to remind you,” Suguru’s hands drag over your legs again, tugging off the shreds of your pantyhose off, “give you our dicks over and over until you tell us which one’s better,” 
“Sounds good to me, yeah?” Satoru leans down to kiss the valley of your breasts, before his fingers follow, finding the front latch with a grin, “planned for this sweetheart? And I thought I was the one who wanted this the most,” and he undoes the clasp with practiced ease, your chest exposed to his touch, nipples pebbling under the cool air. 
“You still are,” Suguru replies, as he nips at your thigh, eyes flicking down to Satoru’s obvious erection straining against the fabric of his slacks, “ready to burst just from looking at her chest, bet you wouldn’t last a minute getting her off,” 
“Oh yeah? Then let’s see who lasts longer,” Satoru undoes and tosses his shirt with ease, his deep blue suit coat long discarded, before he pulls you up into a sitting position while he lies back, and then lifts you with ease onto the middle of his bare chest, “you in her mouth or me eating her out,” 
“Toru—“ you squealed, as you squirmed, your already embarrassingly wet panties clinging to your dripping cunt, slick against his skin, but he holds your hips steady with large hands, “I can’t — I’ll crush you—“ 
“Ride my face, baby,” Satoru smiles up at you, that same smile you could never say no to — the one that made your stomach tie itself in knots, “wanna watch you cum all over my face, wanna walk around covered with your slick m—“ 
“Fuck—“ you cover your face, cheeks burning, “stop,” 
“Already embarrassed? That’s not good, Princess,” Suguru clicks his tongue, as gentle but teasing fingers pry your hands off your face, “can’t have that, we barely started,” 
“Please, baby?” Satoru pouts, and you can’t resist — a small nod, and his thousand watt smile almost makes it worth it, “take your seat on your throne, Princess,” you snort, almost. 
You gingerly shift yourself over him, still hovering as you hesitate. You whimper as he inhaled, a shudder leaving his body, “how is it possible for you smell so fucking good?” And you hear the distinct sound of him unbuckling his belt and the zipper of his pants, and you knew he was already palming at his length. 
Yet still, insecurity creeps up your body from his gaze, as he gazes up at your messy folds “Are you sure I won’t suffocate—” and he leans up to drag his tongue up your clothed cunt, nose bumping against your puffy clit, “ngh, Toru,” his name comes out far too needy for your taste, knees already beginning to buckle, quivering when he tugs at your drenched panties to snap them against your glistening folds, “fuck—” and he’s pulling the thin fabric aside, his warm breath sending ribbons of heat up your body, nearly shuddering from anticipation alone, and it’s nothing compared to when he pulls you down to seat you fully on his face. 
“Fuck,” your body folds forward, and you barely catch yourself, as Satoru’s needy tongue drags over the length of your dripping cunt, “Toru, oh my god —- fuck,”
You barely register the creak of the bed, and the rustle of clothes or the click of the belt, “That’s the idea after all, princess,” Suguru knelt before you, his pretty cock aching for you and an inch in front of you — he was thicker than Satoru, lovely veins that you wanted nothing more than to trace, and pretty beads of pre-cum dripping from his slit, “are you going to be a good girl and—” he hisses when your lips part to suckle at his tip,tongue flicking over his slit, before you let his cock part your lips again. 
But Satoru wasn’t one to be ignored — his tongue circling your clit faster, as his hands rest on your ass, squeezing, before slapping his hand down against the sensitive flesh, sending you forward onto Suguru’s cock. 
Suguru grunts, fingers threading into your strands, nails digging into your scalp, “s’fucking good for me, princess. Such a good cockeater,” his fingers cup your chin, forcing your gaze higher, eyes blown out in pleasure, boobs bouncing with the way you rocked against Satoru’s face and Suguru’s shallow thrusts, the heavy weight of his dick on your tongue. 
And Suguru can’t resist — palming at your breasts because you’re so pretty when you whine, as he pinches your erect nipples before rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. You moan around Suguru’s length, your hands grasping at his hips, sloppily sucking him off, as Satoru grinds his face against your cunt. 
The wet squelch of your pussy rings in your ears, greedily lapping at your juices like a man wanting to drown, diving deeper and deeper to depths unknown. And when his thumbs reach up to part your hole further apart, you’re nearly choking on Suguru’s dick, as Satoru’s tongue slips into your entrance. 
You whine when he teasingly pulls away, pressing sweet kisses to your clit, “Gonna fuck you right, sweetheart — make sure you can’t remember anything tonight except the feel of my tongue inside you, that is, until I fuck you open,” and he’s burying you back, moaning at the feeling of your juices slipping off the side of his face, “gotta open wide for you baby — gotta swallow this whole cunt, yeah?” 
And you would have moaned if you hadn’t had your mouth full of Suguru’s dick, nearly beginning to choke on it when he began to lazily thrust into your mouth, a shiver down his spine as he looks at you drooling around his length, sloppily tracing his veins, a graze of his teeth against the sensitive skin, and a hiss parts his lips, “careful there,” and he gives a particularly hard thrust, “don’t want me to fuck this throat do you?” and your moan makes a mean smirk curl his lips, “or maybe you do,” 
Fuck, you were getting close — and so was Suguru by the way his hips began to buck into your mouth, and Satoru for that matter — the wet sounds of his fisting his cock along with the messy moans against your cunt sending more pleasure up and down your spine. And fuck, his bucking against his hand was making the bed shake — and god, you’d reach behind you and jack him off if you weren’t holding onto Suguru for dear life. 
“That’s it, sweetheart, swallow my cock, fuck, g’nna cum soon,” Suguru’s balls slap against your face as he begins to fuck your mouth in earnest, “Toru looks he’s about ready to burst too, gonna clean up our cocks before we fuck you, pretty?” 
“Fuck, she nearly clamped down on my mouth from that,” Satoru says, thoroughly muffled from your heat pressed tight to his mouth, his tongue then returning to fuck you, as you ride his face to find your release, unable to think about anything else but cumming, “cum on my face, baby,” and when Satoru sucks around your clit, a sharp palm bearing down on your ass again, you’re cumming, grinding and riding out your high on his face, as he welcomes your release with an open mouth. The wet sounds of his slurping and sucking, as your juices roll off both sides of his face and stain the mattress underneath him.
And then you’re eagerly sucking at Suguru’s cock, swallowing around him as he fucks your face, “g’nna cum, are you gonna let me cum alone — are you going to help Satoru cum too?” and he’s helping you reach back, leaning back with you so his cock never parts your pretty lips, and right as your fingers brush against Satoru’s cock, squeezing around the base, you hollow out your cheeks, letting Suguru’s tip brush your throat. 
They both groan your name as they cum, thick spurts of Suguru’s release down your throat, while Satoru cums all over his stomach and your hand. They slowly still their movements, Suguru slowly pulling his cock from your mouth, strings like a spiderweb of cum and your spit connecting your lips to his dick, and Satoru helps you off his face, eyes shut as your legs are still shaking from the way he ate you out still, as they lay you down on the bed. 
Your eyes flutter open to find Satoru licking his face clean, still glossy with your release and his spit, “Fuck, sweetheart, how do you taste so good?” he murmurs almost reverently, a grin on his lips, “I’ll have to sit on my face more often,” and you’re rolling your eyes. 
“I don’t know if I’ll be sitting on my throne very often, you weirdo,” you chuckle softly, far too breathlessly, and you turn to Suguru to find him leaning on his elbow, gaze still dark. 
“Well, you do have two thrones after all,” Suguru leans down to find your lips in a kiss, tasting himself on your lips, a soft moan pulled from your lips, “you’ll have to use the other at one point or another,” 
“Jealous?” you echo Satoru, and Suguru has you pulled into his lap in a moment, your back pressed flush to his chest, his cock already far too hard, far too quickly, and your head falls back as he drags the tip over your still sensitive folds, “a-ah, Sugu, I—” 
“The only thing I’m jealous about is that the only thing that’s been in this pretty pussy tonight has been Satoru’s tongue,” and he’s tilting your head down, to watch your cunt rub against his length, a whine leaving your throat that you barely recognize as your own, “think we should fix that, shouldn’t we?” 
“Room for another over there?” Satoru adds, drawing closer, his length in hand, as he lazily pumps it to full mast, and you whimper at the sight of him, “our princess is so needy, she needs two of us to fill her, yeah?” 
And Suguru takes the opportunity to spread your folds with his hand, and sink his length into you, your head falling back into his shoulder, as a pornographic moans parts your lips, and Suguru is shushing you all the same, as he works himself into you inch by inch, “Don’t want anything to think we’re filming a different kind of movie in here, hm?” 
“Imagine the headlines then,” Satoru hums, as he teases your clit with his cock, “movie star found cheating on her co star — one dick just wasn’t enough — she needs two,” 
“Can they blame her?” Suguru’s finally inside you fully, his stretch far too delicious, shorting out your nerves with the pleasure — and you swear your cunt was making a mold of his cock, complete with every lovely vein, pretty curve, and each inch, “this pussy deserves the best after all,” 
“S’full,” you’re a mess, walls already fluttering around Suguru, practically begging him to begin moving, while welcoming Satoru in with folds that only craved his cock, “so big,” you whine. 
“Mmhmm, I know, baby,” Satoru’s tilting up your chin, lips curled in a grin, “Suguru’s almost too much for me — how are you going to fit me too?” and you whimper, shaking your head, “you still want me?” and you nod far too eagerly, and he chuckles, “well, you heard our princess, Suguru, mind giving me a hand?” 
And you furrow your brow, unsure, until you feel Suguru’s hands reach around to your front and spreads your pussy lips wider for Satoru, making your cunt clamp down on him, “fuck, she just got tighter,” but Satoru takes it in stride, gathering some of your juices on his fingers to further lube himself up. 
“No matter how much we fuck her like this, she’s always so tight for us,” Satoru’s pressing his tip to your spread entrance, and you whimper, “maybe tonight,” his fingers tilt your chin upwards, “we’ll finally fuck her to remember our shapes,” 
And he guides his cock into you, and Suguru braces your body against his as your back arches, as both of their lengths stretch you open — like they said, no matter how many times they did this, you never quite got used to it. 
But this pleasure? You were far too used to — they had ruined you for anyone else, because no matter what, no man could please you like either of them, much less both of them. 
“S’full, fuck, I-I can’t—” your walls are squeezing them hard, dicks rubbing together, drawing deep groans from both of them. 
“Don’t have to break our dicks off to get us to fuck you all the time, baby,” Satoru mutters, panting, as he lifts your leg, hooking one around his hip, “already gonna fuck you stupid anytime you want,” 
“Shit, I’m not gonna last that long, Satoru,” Suguru says through gritted teeth, pressing heated kisses to your neck, “gonna start moving, sweetheart,” and you’re nodding, as they both begin to fuck you in tandem. Suguru thrusted upwards steadily, forcing you to ride him, allowing his dick to sink into sweeter depths, pleasure ripping up your spine, while Satoru fucked into you at a rough pace, hands gripping your thighs as he did. Both of their movements drove the other deeper into you, reaching depths you didn’t think were possible. 
“F-fuck, Sugu, Toru,” you’re babbling, lost in the thick haze of pleasure, dripping over your skin like hot molasses, slow but burning all the same, as your walls fluttered around both of them, “s’good, I can’t—” tears burning at your eyes, as your hands brace themselves on Satoru’s shoulders. 
“That’s it, such a good girl, been thinking about you spread out on me like this since the moment I saw you,” Suguru grunts, rutting into you faster, “couldn’t wait to rip off this dress to fuck you right — didn’t think you’d let us so soon,” and you swear their cocks were kissing your cervix at this point, and surely you’d look down and see a bulge in your stomach from how deep they were. 
“Pretty girl takes us so well, no one compares to you, sweetheart,” Satoru sighs, watching the way his cock sunk into you again and again, “you’re ours, just ours,” 
“I’m close, s’close, g’nna—” pleasure built like a coil in your stomach, ready to snap, and they were only more than happy to pull you apart, as long as they were the only one to put you back together. 
And Satoru rubs at your clit, a moan on his lips, “Cum for us princess,” and you do, toes curling as you cum hard with their names on your lips, clamping down around both of their cocks. Low moans of your name leave their lips as they fuck you through your orgasm, hips stuttering when they slowed, “g’nna cum,” 
“Where—” Suguru chokes out, and you’re leaning into Suguru, while your arms wrap around Satoru’s neck, pulling him close. 
“Inside, please, give me your cum,” And they both moan, slowing until they notch themselves deep as they both cum, thick releases painting your walls, continuing to fuck their cum deeper inside, “ngh, fuck,” And Suguru finds your lips in a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, as Satoru digs his teeth into your neck, no protest coming to your mind, only just a want for more, more, more. 
And they slow, creak of the mattress and the pants stilling into silence, as you lean back against Suguru, Satoru’s face buried in the crook of your shoulder as the three of you bask in the afterglow. 
And finally, Satoru slowly pulls himself from you, groaning as he watches the evidence of the double creampie they gave you drips from inside you, “Fuck, sweetheart, we filled you up,” 
“A shame to waste it,” Suguru murmurs, as he pulls his softening erection from inside you, “should we plug her up, make her keep our cum inside her for the rest of the night?” and you’re biting back a moan, but Satoru doesn’t miss the way your lower lips twitch. 
“Oh, she likes that,” Satoru grins, cupping your face to find your lips in a languid kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue that teases teasingly over the seam of your lips,  “or maybe we should fuck her again and give her more until it drips down her thighs all night, hm?” 
And the moment is fraught with tension, as the two of them lean in again to kiss you, before the door bursts open, making all three of you freeze. 
Fuck (and not in the good way). 
“Oi, what the fuck,” the three of you glance over, as Satoru and Suguru hurriedly covered you up with Suguru’s nearby discarded jacket, “you fucking idiots—” 
“Look who’s talking,” Satoru scoffs, “fuck off,” 
“I would say the same to you, but you already did,” Sukuna shakes his head, “all night you’ve been gone, and you can’t be bothered to keep track of the time?” and your brow knits together, “it’s nearly time for the fucking—”
“Question and answer, with the press,” the warmth of their embraces erased in a moment by the news, a bucket of ice water spilled over your head, “fuck,” you’re trying to scramble to get up, “fuck, fuck, fuck, I can’t out there like this—” 
“No fuck you can’t,” Sukuna scoffs, and Suguru glares at him, as he helps you into your dress, while Satoru stands with his jacket as a partition.
“Stop talking if you’re not going to help,” and you’re lucky the dress doesn’t require six people to get into, and you had chosen something relatively simple, with a fucking string corset you were beginning to regret as Suguru tried to retie it as best he could, “fuck, why was this dress so easy to take off?” But he finally gets it, as you open the bathroom to look at yourself in the mirror. 
“My makeup, my hair — I can fix it, but not the way it was before,” you’re covering your face, how was your career over before you barely started? “Fuck, what do I do—” 
“It’s simple,” Satoru sighs, “as much as I hate to suggest this, and I probably will go gouge my eyes out—” 
You sigh, “Toru—” 
“I have an idea,” Satoru’s eyes slide to Sukuna, disgust evident in his face, until he glances back at you, “but we’ll need his help,” 
“Don’t worry, I don’t know your name either,” Satoru’s head snaps back to Sukuna. 
“You don’t know—” 
Sukuna smirks, “What’s the plan?” 
Satoru’s expression sours, as he scratches the back of his head, “Well…” 
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“You surprised me, brat,” Sukuna says, as he holds your arm, as the two of you make your way back into the ballroom, and you’re adjusting your dress, still far too self conscious — as if everyone could see what you did — even though that was the plan. 
“That I agreed to this?” you murmur. 
“No, that you bit me that hard,” he rubbed the mark you left on his neck, as your cheeks burn, “didn’t expect a tiny thing like you to be able to bite that well,” 
“Well, I had to make it look real,” you look away, but look back when you’re about to reach the doors of the ballroom, “fuck, everyone is going to look at us, aren’t they?” 
“Let them enjoy the show,” an arm slides around your waist, “you know they will.” 
~~~
It’s only been a few weeks since the film premiered, and it’s already far surpassed some of the top grossing films this year. A lot of the buzz generated from the film has been around rumors surrounding the relationship between the two lead co-stars—their tumultuous relationship seems to have come to an end—
And you tune out the video for a moment, scrolling into the comments to see what people are saying: 
sukunasthirdleg69: damn can i get on him next? 👅 
gegesnumber1hater: wonder if she got back with gojo or geto again? 🤭 I’d like to see that groupchat pop off. 
gogecutestprincess replied to gegesnumber1hater: no way she lost her chance with gojo and geto 😤 they deserve better…like each other
You chuckled, at least the news of you and Sukuna had spread as planned. You had enough of the coverage of the premiere with the zoomed in images of your clothes and the marks on both of your bodies. But finally it was done — but how long would it be until you slipped up with Satoru or Suguru and the rumors would begin again? 
“What are you thinking about so much? Aside from me,” Satoru collapses on the couch beside you, hair still damp from the shower, arm slipping around your waist, as he leans over your shoulder, “what are they saying now?” 
“Just more rumors — some are wondering if we got back together,” 
“How could they ever think we let you go?” Suguru presses a kiss to the top of your head, before sitting beside you. 
“I still hate that they think the marks I left are from Sukuna,” Satoru mumbles, as you flip through the comments, burying his face further into the crook of your neck, “how could they not realize it was my hard work that put those marks there?” 
“Because it’s so distinct,” you snort, and he’s pouting as you press a kiss to his cheek, “not everyone has your sharp eyes, Toru,” 
“And yet you saved every picture they got of her,” Suguru smirks, and Satoru glares at him, “but I did too,” 
“What are we going to do when they start talking about us again?” Satoru tilts his head at your question. 
“Let them,” Satoru leans back on the couch, fingers toying with a strand of your hair, “and if you really don’t like it, we can pay them off,” 
“And if I don’t want to pay them off?” Both of them furrow their brows, “what if I want them to know?” You add, chewing on your lip, “about us?” 
“You want to?” Suguru’s gaze softens, “but more than us, it could impact your career,” 
“It already had,” you scoff, when had it not recently? If it was going to be like this, you would at least like to be in control of the narrative, “everyone is always talking about us, well,” your lips curl into a grin, why don’t we give them something to talk about?” 
“And what would that be?” Satoru hums. 
You lock your phone screen, “When does shooting and press start for season three of jjk?” 
~~~~
A few months later….
“A successful film, several offers to be in other blockbusters, and now you’re back shooting season three of Jujutsu Kaisen,” the interviewer leans back, shaking her head, as she fans herself with her interview cards, “I think we were lucky to get an interview with you now! Although it isn’t in person this time,” 
“Well, you can’t forget your roots,” and you couldn’t — this was the first show that had requested you for an interview all those years ago when season one of Jujutsu Kaisen was airing, even if you had relegate them to a video interview, “it feels like this year has been that in many ways,” 
“Oh? How is that?” and your lips curl. 
“Last year with my first feature film and everything else, it felt like starting over — starting from scratch with something so new that I barely recognized myself at some point,” your hands clasped in your lap, “this year, after the film gained so much traction, and going back to film the show that made my career, it just feels like coming home — especially to the cast,” 
“Speaking of the cast, are you going to see more behind the scenes with Gojo and Geto?” she grins, “so many of your videos with those two went viral — are we going to see more of the three of you messing around?” 
And you can’t help the smile on your lips, “Oh definitely you will be seeing more of that,” you’re tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and the lights glint off a set of two rings on your finger, diamonds glinting as if begging for notice, and you hear a small gasp. 
“Is that—” and you freeze a moment, before your smile grows wider, and the interviewer squeals, “Are you married?” 
“Guilty,” 
The interviewer grins harder than you are — and you’re not quite sure if she’s more thrilled at the news or of getting this exclusive, “Who’s the lucky man?” 
And you open your mouth, when the camera goes out of focus for a moment, only for it to come back into focus with Satoru and Suguru leaning into the frame of the camera, their arms around your sides. And Satoru lowers his sunglasses with a smirk. 
“Who said it’s just one?” 
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✧ a/n: ahh this was super fun to write just because of how much crack it was hahah, i hope you guys enjoyed <3
✧ taglist: @forest-hashira , @supilyu , @yamaguccitadashi, @kentocalls, @magicalgirlb, @ssetsuka , @isabeauwolf , @lemonintrovert01 , @astraecea-silversin , @cerene-dipity , @whorefornoodles , @hobimysolecito , @risuola , @ja-zz , @spider-fan72 , @jayathelostdragon , @therealestpussyeater , @too-much-snow , @umarureid , @rosso-seta , @maddie-jayne , @at-the-chateau , @cherrypieyourface, @sleepysaurusworld , @lucilferz , @spltbtch , @bobfloydluvsblackwomen , @johannakhalafalla , @augustwinesworld , @catsgomurp , @psychxbby, @hellkaiserinphoenix , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @cstandsforchaos , @sunamatic , @lycoris-01 , @mua-for-now , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @voids-universe , @caelestine-the-caelicatto , @gorouenjoyer
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tonycries · 10 months ago
Text
Unmistakably Yours - G.S.
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Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.5k
A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.
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Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.
He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.
Because you weren’t here.
“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 
Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 
With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-
“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”
“Where is she?”
---
It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 
Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 
Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 
One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.
He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?
Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 
God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-
That was when you felt it. 
The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 
You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 
Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.
“My love?”
Satoru.
It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 
Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 
All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 
A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 
“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 
It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 
Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 
“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 
He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-
Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.
Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.
You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 
Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 
“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”
Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 
Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”
There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 
Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.
Shit. He’s lost it.
Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 
Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.
Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?
Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 
Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.
The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.
But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.
Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.
It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.
Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-
“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”
With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 
“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”
You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”
“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 
“But-”
“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”
Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.
Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”
“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”
And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 
Rip!
It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 
He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 
“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”
That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”
Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.
Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 
And it was so unfair. 
Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 
And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 
Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 
And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 
“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.
“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”
He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 
And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 
“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”
“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”
You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 
But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.
Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 
“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”
And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.
You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 
“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 
But it wasn’t fast enough. 
Not for Satoru, at least.
Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-
That cheat. 
You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 
Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 
“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 
One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 
Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 
Desperate. Violent, even.
So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 
And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 
“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 
Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 
Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 
You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 
You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”
“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”
“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 
He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.
Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 
Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 
And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 
God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 
And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 
“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 
“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”
“But-”
God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 
Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 
Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 
It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 
“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.
He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.
Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.
“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”
You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”
“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”
“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”
And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 
If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 
“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.
And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”
At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 
Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 
“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”
“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.
It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.
“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”
“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”
And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 
Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 
Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-
“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”
Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”
And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.
Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 
And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.
Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.
“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”
It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 
“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”
The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 
And then it’s black. 
---
“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”
Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 
And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.
Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?
“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”
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A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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