#Suguru geto

[emberz7]

satoru says something

[bluebeesknees]

Dance, dance, baby! ✨

[tsukuhoe]

VIRGIN!JJK FIC RECS

something about virginity loss fics makes me sooo wet... req by anon ^^ adding onto the list whenever i find more <3 mdni, nsfw content!

gojo digimon—but making u cum is my real hobby - blkkizzat strongest sorcerer virgin - megumiluv virgin and unexperienced bf!gojo - fatal fairies number one sorcerer (and virgin) - inmaki nerds do it better - sugugasm virginity loss & riding - creamflix inculpatus - jaegerbby teach me how to pleasure my future wife (you) - fvsm4x

geto reformed player!geto - akicult virginity loss & riding - creamflix losing your virginity to geto suguru - yasu-1234 his favourite - h34rtbeat just let me love you - sttoru salvation - puppykento inked - choslut

nanami she said it's her first time - classyrbf sins of the flesh - semisgroupie perfect lover: the life of nanami kento the 35 year old virgin (series) - kanekisfavouritegf

yuuji oh my god, pretty - lokissweater virgin!yuji x virgin!reader - nana-au bff & virgin!yuji - nana-au yuji x f!reader - ickyuji

megumi best friend megumi fushiguro - onismdaydream megumi's birthday - mommypeick first time having sex is awkward - wild-jackaloupe how to fuck 101 - chosok-amo i think i'm ready - romantichomocide95 first time - megvmijx

yuta that boy is mine! i can't wait to try him! - rosesaints gummy bear - loveanddeepdick right here - love-jelly smile, you're on camera - seraphdreams

choso virgin!choso - teasingchoso choso kamo x f!reader - jaegerdilf mind body and soul - admirxation cherry blossoms ( 1 2 3 4 5 ) - sellenite cherry smoke clouds - kleftiko he's such a (hot) looser - classyrbf emo boy - krys4h

toji sins of the flesh - semisgroupie

taboo crush - spideyyeet best friend's dad - nanaslut

sukuna virgin!sukuna - screampied

etc jjk!boys x virgin!fem reader v!rgin killa - screampied asking the jjk characters to take your virginity - nanaslut cherry popper - satorusugurugirl

[edensrose]

𐔌 𖹭 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 𝑮𝒆𝒕𝒐 . ִֶָ๋

ᡴꪫ. fluff & biting 𖹭 f. reader ˖ ࣪ꮽ˳

suguru geto has a biting problem.

you wake up? he's latched to your shoulder. you fall asleep? hope you can do that with his maw on your waist. you're idly creeping through the house, late at night, in need of a last minute snack — bam! so is he. and he thinks your arm searching the fridge is the perfect one. ( you slapped the shit out of him in shock, but he considers that a price to pay ).

don't read a book near him. don't lay there all soft and still. it's like you're tempting him; like you want him to creep closer and find an excuse to latch onto you.

maybe it's the possessive itch in him. maybe he just enjoys the crescents of teeth marks on your pretty flesh.

or maybe.

just maybe.

it calms him down a little.

what is he? an animal? he blames you instead. how is he supposed to keep his hands - or teeth - to himself when you're curled up beside him on the sofa, idly scrolling through your phone with your pretty legs and thighs angled towards him.

and you're in shorts? nah, you were asking for it. he'd look once. look twice. wait until you were on some random recipe video he knows will hone all your attention.

licks his lips.

waits one more second.

your legs shifts — now!

"sugu-!" your squeaks are at least 50% the reason for his assault. the other half is your hand shot into his dark hair. your nails on his scalp. you look down just in time to see his eyes fluttering back and groan as his jaw flexes around your thigh fat.

"what is your problem?"

"mph."

as if 'mph' was all the excuse he needed. that and his drooping violet eyes and thick lashes kissing his cheeks. as though he's been sedated. a beast quelled. the only energy he has left is reserved for his ringed, calloused hands slipping around your legs.

he slumps. you sigh at his weight and turn your reprimanding grip into a small ruffle. "you're such a creep, you know that?"

that earns you another bite. this time to your inner thigh. when you jolt and lightly push on his head — you'll catch that mischievous look in his dull eyes peering at you from beneath his lashes.

͝ ⏝𝅄︶ ͝ ⏝ ⊹ ⏝ ͝ ︶𝅄⏝ ͝

[oreo-creampies]

‘𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞?! 𝐧𝐧! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞!!!’

You’re so beautiful in your tiny clubbing dress. Satoru can’t keep his hands off you, doesn’t matter if his roommates are watching. They can join.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ganagbang, four-some, triple/double penetration, anal, oral, sitting on satoru's face, mocking/teasing/degradation, squirting, face fucking, light pain kink, light choking, manhandling, size kink, they all have big cocks, cock drunk/mind break, cream pie, triple stuffing, double stuffing the same hole, hair pulling, daddy/mama/princess, begging, dacryphilia, overstimulation, light dumbifcation, spanking, aftercare fluff, praise, established relationship with satoru, pussy drunk!trio, cock drunk!reader, some recording

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 𝟏𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬/ 𝟐.𝟖𝐤

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: more poly toji, gojo and get sharing reader?

Curling a thick, long finger into your squelching cunt, stroking your sweet spot. Squeezing Satoru’s large hand with your thighs. Grinding your hips, eager to cum, not caring you stumbled through the front door into the living room.

The game blaring from the tv pauses. Toji suggests, "Fuck her right on the coffee table and let us watch if you're gonna do that." Your cunt throbs from Satoru's breathy moans, his tongue soft on yours. Tugging on his snowy white hair, making him whine.

Gliding his finger out, whining at the loss. He breaks away, "Beg to fuck my girlfriend then I'll let you use her pretty mouth." He smears your slick on your bottom lip. You take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue, cleaning him off.

Unbuttoning Satoru's pants, slipping your hand in. Fondling his beautifully long, veiny cock through his underwear. Satoru's been wanting to fuck you so badly he's soaking through his underwear. He groans, bucking his hips.

"Or you can just watch n' jerk off. Either way, Sug and I filling my beautiful lil super soaker." He slips his finger out, roughly squeezing your neck, pulling you towards the living room. Causing you to stumble, your high heels clicking on the wooden floor.

Satoru turns you around and pushes you towards Suguru. Toji snaps, "Why the fuck should I?" Straddling Suguru's lap, he pulls your tight dress up, kissing you softly. Suguru's kiss is a bitter contrast to Satoru's sweeter one. It's softer, needier, tasting of cigarettes and whiskey.

Satoru sneers, "You broke my fuckin' nose once, beg like a bitch or suffer blue balls n' watch." Slapping both your cheeks, crying into Suguru's mouth. Satoru grabs your hips, sinking his fingers into the squishy crease of your hip.

Burying his face into your cunt, forcing you to sit on his handsome face. Fucking you with his tongue, stroking your sweet spot. Rocking your hips back, he slaps your ass and groans. You whine from his pleasurably stinging warning to keep still.

Fondling Suguru's thick hard pecs, tracing the lines of his hard abs. Suguru breaks away to add, "Your hand won't feel as good as her sloppy, soaking wet hot cunt." Holding your neck loosely, with you no longer straddling his lap, Suguru's free to make quick work of his sweats.

Freeing his heavy, thick cock. Suguru's cock is too big for you to fully wrap your fingers around. There is that sliver between your fingertips. He is an inch shorter than Satoru but at eight inches he isn't short either.

Suguru’s perfectly too big, intimidating, and mouthwatering. He has large balls, you're wanting to suck on and drain of cum. Fondling them, they're warm and heavy in your palm. Suguru guides your mouth to his cock.

You take Suguru's fat cockhead into your mouth with a groan. Sucking in your cheeks, sticking out your tongue. Getting off the puffy veins on the underside of his cock dragging along your tongue.

Your sensitive cunt clenching Satoru's tongue. He slips his tongue out slowly, gliding his finger in. Spitting on your asshole, smearing it in circles, then stuffing his spit in. "Your other holes clenching like she's beggin' to be played with." He glides his finger out, stuffing in his tongue. Curling it, fucking you with a steady, quick pace.

Toji's voice doesn't have the bite from before. There's a needy strain to it. "Fuck you..." He mumbles, "Please,” then speaks up, "Let me fuck your sexy girlfriend." You're drowning in your horniness. It's intoxicating how needy Toji's please was, replaying in your mind.

Suguru glides his cock out with a soft pop and you mock, "Please let me fuck your sexy girlfriend. Want me that bad you figured out some manners?" Suguru snickers, dipping your head down, gagging you with his fat cock.

Toji snaps, "Gonna fuck some into you." Satoru slips his tongue out, kissing your messy lips. Slapping your cunt to hear you cry. Suguru's thick cock muffles the sound.

Toji grabs your hip, lifting you off the ground with one hand. Lining his tip up with your cunt, gliding his fat tip in. He groans, watching you stretch, the soft ridge of his cock vanishing in you.

You didn't notice Satoru had left the room till he came back with a wet rag and lube. Cleaning his hands off, then grabs your hand, pouring lube on it. Wrapping your fingers around his cock, twisting your hand, guiding it along his length. Tossing the lube into the sofa.

Toji glides his cock out, his head tugging on your cunt. "Nnn fuck princess is too damn tight!" Roughly pulling you back to meet his harsh thrust. Toji fails at suppressing the tremble, his legs shaking. Momentarily overwhelmed by your sloppy tight cunt squeezing his thick cock.

Satoru croons, "Heh you're making Toji tremble with your lil super soaker." Suguru stops, your nose touching his navel. He stands up with you gagging on him, tearing up.

Suguru piles on, "It's too much for him and he's only given you the tip." Toji rocks. his hips forward, his balls slapping your clit. His head brushing your cervix, he's so deep! Clenching him, savoring the soft feeling of his skin on his rock-hard cock.

Toji groans, “Shutt nnn up!” Getting off on the puffy veins, and the shape heavy of his head. Curling your toes, each rough stroke rubbing your sweet spot. Your cunt spasming around him, fuck his so mind numbly big splitting you open.

Bouncing you between Suguru's and his large, muscular bodies. Letting Suguru go to reach back Toji grabs your wrist. Suguru keeps his hips still, letting Toji stuff you, gagging you with Suguru's cock.

You're a beautiful whore Toji had begged for the chance to fuck. After months of him pressing you up against counters, grabbing your waist in passing, and standing too close. Always shirtless putting his fat pecs in your face like an attention needy slut.

Suguru glides his cock out of your mouth. Toji tugs on your arm, arching your back, pushing your tits forward. Keeping you bent in two for him to ruthlessly fuck your cunt loose. Catching your breathe whimpering, “Nnng daddddy!” Meeting Satoru’s beautiful ocean blue eyes.

He drops your hand fisting his cock, Toji pulls your back to his chest. Letting your wrist go in favor of lifting your leg giving Satoru a better view of his girlfriend’s cunt taking his thicker cock.

Satoru groans “Fuck her lips so damn good with a cock between up, love seeing that little tug. Her cunt so tight she doesn't want to let you go.” Satoru pumping his hand along his long, veiny pale cock faster. Swiping his thumb over his head with each stroke, smearing his pre-cream.

Suguru takes his time, his cock drooping underneath it’s heavy weight when he reaches his base. Thick white pre cum drips from his tip when he slides his hand back up. He let's it trickle down his head before he swirls his thumb on his head. Making a show of touching his cock off rather than getting off.

Suguru groans, “Her cunt’s so fucking fat, look at that sweet pudgy sloppy cunt. Fuck her harder, her fat tight cunt can take it.” Sitting down on the sofa. His words, Toji’s cock, Satoru’s groans and the slick sound of his hand stroking his cock getting you off.

Satoru urges Toji on, “Try and break her fucking cunt, she’s a good well trained whore. She’s take all there of us won't you?” Toji reaches around, stroking your clit. Your eyes roll back, jaw drops and your cunt clenches.

A blissful mind-numbing, pleasurable high overcomes you when you cum. Your whole body tingling, your cunt getting sloppier, squelching louder. Thick cum trickles down your thigh. There is no drop in the building peak.

Trembling, trying to get away despite how you're suspended in the air by Toji's hands. Toji's thick cock stuffed too deep for you to glide out. The intense high is bordering on painful.

Satoru smirks, "Lookin' scared, his cock too much for you?" Tears slip down your cheeks, crying. "You're makin' our beautiful slut cry." He moans, "Awwww poor baby." He grabs your jaw, spitting in your mouth when you moan.

"You're a greedy whore getting off on being getting used, passed around like a pretty toy. Say it." Satoru steps aside when Suguru claims,

"Wait lemme record our cum dump confessing what a slut she is." Toji pulls out a little too much, and when he thrusts up. You jolt, your body tensing, and a painful pleasure rips through the intense bliss.

Suguru fixes his phone on you when you cry "Wrong hole! Nnng!" Toji groans, pushing your hips down, making you take his cock in your tight ass. Sliding his fingers down your slit, stuffing your gapping cunt.

Tears trickle down your cheeks. "Please, your cock is too big! too much! Nn my asss inn feels too! nnn!" You can't think straight, each stroke is better than the last. The pain fades to a strange yet familiar intense pleasure.

Satoru croons, "Too big, too much? Your sweet jiggly ass, tell us how it feels after confessing what a whore you are." He stretches out on the sofa, "Bring her here." Holding his cock up. Toji walks over, giving your ass a chance to get used to his thickness.

Gliding Satoru's cock into your cunt. He too long not to stroke your cervix, something once so intimidating has now become an addiction. Your cunt has come to crave big so full, to where you can feel him under your belly button because he's too long.

Satoru isn't thicker than Toji, but thick enough that the stretch has your eyes rolling back. The thin strip of skin between both holes stretches. Satoru's cock seems to overlap Toji's thicker head.

Toji's heavy girth helps Satoru rub your sweet spot with a heavy toe-curling pressure. "Shit he's makin' you tighter, smashing my cock inside you." Suguru tugs your head. up by your hair, recording your cock drunk expression.

Toji's and Satoru's spaces are uneven, but just as rough, and harsh. It's hard to find the words, but when you do you're pleading. "Imma cock hungry slut who likes cock that are too big for her holes. Wanna be stretched and filled fill of cum. Use my cunt and ass please let me suck on your balls and cock." Suguru lets go of your hair, clinging up his cock.

Satoru holds your head by your neck, "We should get a better camera so we can record us running a train on our beautiful glory holes while she tied up. Make her a sex toy for an afternoon, walk up fuck her when we want." Suguru muffles your needy groans with his cock.

Suguru suggests, "We can leave a toy in her so she stays wet and sensitive." Toji slaps both cheeks twice, spreading them apart, grabbing the lube off the sofa next to him. Pouring some lube onto you, watching his cock sink into your asshole stuffing lube in.

Groaning, picking up his pace, his cock twitching, veins getting puffier. Clenching both holes, in pure bliss with three fat cocks stretching every hole. Their large hands caressing and fondling your body. Satoru pinches your nipple, tugging and stroking it.

Suguru gently massages your other breast, stroking your nipple with a wet thumb. Toji glides his hands over your cheeks, squishing your hips, squeezing your thighs. Your cheeks clap back and your cunt squelches louder than their combined groans.

You're so wet, dripping down your thighs. Toji's balls are wet, smearing it with each hit. Moaning on Suguru's cock, getting off on how he's fucking your mouth. Your other holes clenching when he gags you.

He's getting this all on camera. Something about that added element is making this hotter. You'll need the video, so you can watch the merciless way they're fucking your soft, supple body.

Your cunt is going to be soaking from getting to see the size difference of your short statue between three large men.

Suguru glides his cock out, putting his phone close to your face. Crouching down, "Tell us how you're feeling." Looking in the camera with blurry vision. Moaning, bouncing back to meet their thrusts, Toji holds you still. His thick fingers sink into your hips' soft crease.

"Nnnn I'm so full, it feels so good. Please cum! Please! Nnn! Wanna feel you cum in me." Your words push Toji over the edge, his cock twitches, and his puffy veins pulse. Warm cum spurts in your ass.

Biting your lip, clenching both holes, trembling. Suguru stands up, and steps back getting on video of your cunt gushing on Satoru's cock from getting your ass fucked and filled by Toji.

Satoru moans, "Good fuckin' slut, that's it mama squirt for us." Suguru jerks his cock off slowly, not wanting to cum unless inside you. His heavy, thick veiny cock is beautiful. In the midst of squirting, you want more. You want to feel Suguru's cock with Satoru's.

You plead, "Both in me!" You can't make yourself clear, your mind is broken. Clear of any thought, there is only the addictive pleasurable feeling of getting fucked. Toji's cum is warm and thick in your ass, trailing after his cock when he pulls out.

Toji sighs, "Fuck her ass is so damn good around my cock, couldn't help but bust." Stalking off towards the bathroom, mumbling, "Gonna order pizza and charge you for a slice." Suguru sets his phone down and takes Toji's place behind you.

Satoru slows down for Suguru to line himself up, gliding his cock in next to Satoru's. Kissing your boyfriend, moaning into his mouth. He parts his lip and you slip your tongue past, he follows your hungry lead.

They match their pace and speed, fucking your soaking wet cunt roughly. Your cunt is too sensitive after squirting, gripping their cocks pressing them together. Their pace becomes uneven, rubbing each other and your squishy cunt.

Breaking the kiss, moaning "How? I just! Nnn!" Your cumming again too soon to believe it. Your cunt tingles with that familiar bliss that spreads outwards. Your toes curling, digging your nails into Satoru's hard pecs. Getting off on their cocks are stroking each other's inside you.

Satoru busts, going still Suguru keeps fucking into you from behind. Fucking Satoru's cum into you. Satoru whimpers, trembling underneath you his eyes rolling back. Sliding his hands down to your hip, squeezing you.

Suguru leans forward, pinning you between their muscular bodies, overstimulating both of you. "Please nnn! Please cum! Please! Daddy! please cum! please!" You're too sensitive, quivering beneath them, drool dripping down your chin.

Suguru turns your head for a sloppy kiss. Wrapping his hand around Satoru's neck, keeping, stroking his cock and your sloppy cunt. You reach back, tugging on Suguru's long dark hair.

He eases up on Satoru's neck, letting him moan. Suguru grunts, "Fuuuuck! Can't hold on!" His pace becomes sloppy. "You feel too good!" Breaking the kiss, looking you in the eyes when he cums in you. Suguru's expression of pure pussy drunk pleasure is beautiful.

Suguru slides out, kissing the back of your head. "I'll get him to add some sweets and drinks to the order." Satoru takes a moment with you resting on top of him, his cock softening.

You lazily trail kisses along his jawline. Satoru glides his hand up and down your back. Slowly standing up, you wrap your legs around his waist. Hooking your arm around his neck, laying your head on his shoulder.

Carrying you to his bathroom, "You did good for us mama, so good beautiful. I love ya so much." He slips his soften cock out, warm cum tricking down your thighs.

Satory sets you on your feet, your legs wobble. Forcing you to grab onto the edge, holding yourself up. He steadies you with a large hand on your hip.

You smile, "I love you too daddy." He grabs a fluffy rag, gets it wet, and crouches in front of you. Gently wiping your cunt, ass, and thighs clean. Leaving random soft kisses. Giving you that warm feeling in your chest of being loved and taken care of.

When he stands up, you cup his face causing him to lean in for a kiss. "I love how you spoil me." Gently kissing you, setting the rag aside, lifting you onto the counter. Standing between your legs, and stay there when he pulls away.

Grabbing your makeup wipe, he takes out one, softly cleaning your face. "Spoiling? Princess, I'm only looking after you how I'm supposed to. If you want me to spoil you how about a private couple's spa tomorrow?" Closing your eyes, he light swipes the whip over your eyes and cheeks. Kissing your nose.

"Please I want a massage." Throwing the wipe away, opening the tiny makeup fridge keeping all the masks cool. Pulling a rose-smelling mask from its packet, and carefully spreading it on your face.

"You'll get a massage, then a soak in the hot springs with me." He spreads golden eye patches beneath your eyes. Carefully gather your hair in a bonnet to keep it from getting ruined. "Want to get our nails done after?"

Oreo’s m.list

[kingkruell]

THINGS UNSAID, THINGS HELD | JJK MULTIPLE [DRABBLE]

SYNOPSIS - despite the doubt that gnaws at you relentlessly, he always finds a way to silence it. with every gesture, every word, every subtle, careful touch, he could just always bring you back from the edge of your insecurities. and you love him for that.

CONTENT- multiple! jjk characters x insecure! reader, satoru x reader, sukuna x reader, suguru x reader, choso x reader, domestic! jjk bfs au, fem! reader, mentions of getting cheated on, insecurities, bodily insecurities, angst-comfort, established relationships, and most importantly, fluff.

WORD COUNT 3.462

based on a request by @creepyn00dles, enjoy!

listening to candy says - the velvet underground

PART 1

GOJO SATORU

“okay,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “we’re not going out today.”

you tug at the hem of your halter top, fingers brushing the smooth fabric like you’re trying to will it to feel right against your skin. it’s a sleek white piece that hugs your curves just so right, at least it's supposed to be. it's one of those outfits you’d usually feel good in. but right now, the mirror feels almost unforgiving as it reflects back all the little doubts that have been clawing at you.

satoru’s head immediately pops through your doorway, his expression a mix of confusion and mild disbelief.

“what? no way. i’ve got everything planned, baby! i was so excited—first the aquarium, then a picnic. oh, and wait ‘til you—”

“i’m sorry, ‘toru. i just... don’t feel good right now.”

you avert your gaze, mumbling. his excitement—so sweet, so childlike—makes your stomach twist. guilt curls in your chest. the truth is, satoru has been swamped with work lately. it feels so selfish to just take away the one day you’ve finally carved out for yourselves, especially after weeks of looking forward to it.

the brightness in his eyes softens immediately, and he crosses the room in a few easy strides, his long fingers finding your shoulders with a gentle touch.

“hey, hey... you feeling sick?”

he leans down, forehead nearly brushing yours, his voice lower and surprisingly careful.

“want me to grab you something? medicine? hot chocolate? one of my shirts?”

you look away, your face warm with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

“no, it’s... it’s not that. i just don’t feel good about... myself.” you mumble as you look away.

at that very second, gojo just can’t quite comprehend that you could not feel good about yourself.

he thinks—how could you not see it?

the way your eyes catch the light like something holy.

the way your laugh curls up at the edges, soft and unexpected, like the first warmth of spring.

the way your presence shifts the air in a room, quieting the noise in his head like nothing ever could.

to him, you’re gravity. you ground him in a world that often feels too fast, too fragile, too fake.

you’re the realest thing he’s ever known.

he watches you fold in on yourself, and it doesn’t make sense.

because to gojo, you’re everything.

and the idea that you’d ever see anything less in the mirror feels like some kind of cosmic error.

silence falls for a moment, and you can almost hear his thoughts whirring behind those crystalline eyes. then, with a softness that just feels his, satoru hooks a finger under your chin, guiding your gaze back to him. a faint, knowing smile curls at his lips.

“you know,” he starts, lips curling into that boyish, teasing smile, “you could wear a potato sack, and i’d still think you’re the most gorgeous thing to ever walk this earth.”

despite yourself, a small laugh escapes, and satoru’s smile widens, triumphant.

he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. seeing your reaction pushes him even more.

“and it’s almost criminal how you’re underestimating yourself right now. you’re absolutely gorgeous—like, objectively. if beauty were a contest, everyone else would have to find a new hobby.”

you roll your eyes at his dramatics, but he doesn’t miss the way your shoulders relax just a little. satoru notices everything—even the things you don’t say.

“you’re just saying that.”

you huff it out, but he only shakes his head.

“seriously. i’d bet my sunglasses on it—and you know how much i love those. you’ve got this way of making everything brighter just by existing, and it’s a little unfair to the rest of the world.”

he tilts his head, his voice lowering to that rare, earnest timbre.

“look, we don’t have to go anywhere if you’re not feeling up for it. but just so you know... i’d still like to spend the day with you. i’m pretty sure watching movies in bed while you wear my hoodie sounds just as fun as the aquarium.”

he winks, squeezing your shoulders like he’s grounding you to the moment, his expression still holding that boyish charm, but now tinged with something softer.

“and if you ever forget how breathtaking you are, i’ll just have to remind you. repeatedly. relentlessly. until you get sick of me.”

the hint of a smile finds its way back to your lips, and he beams, clearly triumphant.

as you lean into his touch, he presses a quick, featherlight kiss to your forehead, his breath warm and reassuring.

“see? there’s that pretty smile i love. now, how about breakfast? i’ll make pancakes. you, me, and a day with just the two of us--whatever that looks like.”

you nod, finally allowing yourself to melt into his embrace, and he hums contentedly, already thinking out ways to see your beautiful smile for the rest of the day.

GETO SUGURU

it starts with the way you look at your reflection.

not hatefully. not even critically.

just like you’re searching for something, something you think should be there and isn’t.

but suguru sees it.

you don’t say anything when you step out of the bathroom. just towel-dried hair, a hoodie that isn’t yours, and that silence. that soft, invisible weight you think you’re hiding.

you dry your hands. exhale once, long and slow. and open the door.

he cheated because you weren’t enough.

because you stopped being exciting. because someone else was better.

you should’ve known. you should’ve seen it coming.

the apartment is quiet, save for the low hum of the air purifier and the quiet flipping of a page. suguru is exactly where you left him: on the couch, half-tucked into the corner, one leg folded underneath him, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. he looks impossibly serene, black hair half-tied, jaw slack with ease. the kind of peace you still sometimes feel like you’re borrowing.

“you’re doing it again,” he says, without looking up.

you pause mid-step. “doing what?”

“looking at yourself like you’re a puzzle.” he casually flips a page. and you know he’s right.

you exhale, eyes flicking down. “you make it sound dramatic.”

he hums, finally looking at you now, eyes soft and unreadable all at once. “it is. because it’s you. and i don’t like when you go quiet like that.”

you don’t say anything. maybe because you don’t know how to explain it, the way the echoes of your past still show up uninvited. that ugly, lingering voice in the back of your mind: he cheated because you weren’t enough.

because you weren’t pretty enough. exciting enough. good enough.

you sit beside him, legs folded just shy of touching his

“i don’t want to be the insecure girlfriend,” you murmur eventually, half into your sleeves.

suguru closes the book with a quiet thud. sets the mug aside. and shifts to face you fully.

“then don’t be,” he says simply. “be mine instead.”

you blink. “that’s the same thing.”

“nah,” he smirks faintly, brushing the damp hair back behind your ear. “my girlfriend gets to feel things. even the shitty ones. especially the shitty ones. she also gets forehead kisses on demand, hoodie privileges, and my last piece of gum. so really, she’s winning.”

you huff a laugh and suguru grins.

but then, softer, his hand lingers at the side of your face. his thumb traces the curve of your cheek like it’s familiar ground.

“you know,” he says quietly, “he didn’t cheat because you lacked anything. he cheated because he did. because some people don’t know how to hold onto good things when they have them. and you... you're the kind of good people spend lifetimes trying to find again.”

you stare at him, throat tightening. even without saying it, he just knows, he knows you like the back of his hand.

“you say that like it’s obvious.”

“it is.” he leans in. “and if you ever forget again, i’ll just keep saying it. out loud. annoyingly. maybe even in public.”

“suguru—”

“oh, don’t test me. i’ll pull a megaphone on the train. ‘ladies and gentlemen, please look at my girlfriend, the love of my life, the reason the sun even bothers to rise—’”

you swat him with a pillow, the smug grin on his face only widens, like he’s won something. like your irritation is a gift he’s been waiting to unwrap.

“see? knew i could make you laugh,” he says, ducking another half-hearted swing with the grace of someone who’s used to dodging curses and flirty retaliation alike.

“you’re insufferable,” you mutter, though you’re smiling now, and he sees it. he always sees it.

he raises his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “and yet, here you are. voluntarily trapped on the couch with me. must be something in the hair.”

“it’s definitely not that.”

“rude.”

reaching across the narrow space between your bodies, and finds yours-his fingers slip between yours so easily it feels like something you’ve done a thousand times. maybe you have.

his palm is warm. solid. reassuring in a way that words never quite manage to be. he doesn’t squeeze right away. he just holds it. lets your hand settle there in his like it’s always belonged.

and when he does give the slightest squeeze; thumb brushing over the back of your hand like a spell—you feel something shift inside your chest. like maybe the pieces don’t hurt so much when they’re held like this.

“i’m not him,” he says.

you squeeze his hand.

“i know,” you whisper. and maybe this time, you really do.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

you don’t mean for him to hear you.

not really.

it’s just a slip of a whisper, not even words, at first. a half-voiced sigh, the kind that carries weight without sound. but sukuna’s ears have always been sharp. nothing escapes him. especially you.

you’re standing at the edge of the bed, back to him, fingers fussing with the hem of your shirt — or maybe your skin beneath it. he can’t quite tell. your reflection in the darkened mirror looks like someone bracing for battle.

“you’re staring,” you murmur, quiet and strained.

he doesn’t bother denying it. “of course i am.”

you hesitate, shoulders drawing up. the shirt falls from your hands.

“you don’t have to,” you murmur, almost too low for human ears. but you forget who you’re speaking to. “you don’t have to pretend.”

there’s a pause. his brow shifts, barely. “pretend what?”

“like i’m still…” you falter, lips parting soundlessly before closing again. the words wedge deep, too sharp to drag free easily. “…like i’m enough for you. like you still want me.”

the silence that follows is heavy. not absence — presence. thick with something unnamed, and watching.

then his voice cuts through it. low. and calm.

“are you fucking serious.”

you turn slowly, shoulders stiff, your face a carefully guarded mask. but the tension gives you away, the way your eyes don’t quite meet his, the way your posture coils like you’re expecting a blow, even if it’s only verbal. not from him. from the fear that maybe, somehow, you’re right.

he sits at the head of the bed, one knee drawn up, forearm slung over it lazily. like a king on his throne, but his gaze is far from idle. it pins. holds. not with rage. something quieter. something older.

sukuna tilts his head. there’s an edge of disbelief in his expression, tempered by a kind of dispassionate patience that makes you feel smaller than you’d like.

“woman. do you think i keep you here out of pity?”

you open your mouth. try to explain. but your voice sticks. the doubt’s too loud in your chest.

"it's just...i..maybe i am not enough, 'kuna."

he exhales, it almost sounds like a laugh, but it's more of a scoff twisted in disbelief. “i’ve erased bloodlines for lesser insults.”

“excuse me for being—human,” you snap, voice rising despite the sting behind your eyes. “i’m allowed to have doubts.”

he lifts a brow, unbothered. “doubts, yes. but let’s not confuse them for delusions.”

you turn away again, arms crossed tight over your chest, like you’re trying to hold something in — or hold yourself together.

“god, you’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“mm,” he hums. “and you’re sulking in the moonlight like a tragic little thing. do you really expect me to ignore it?”

“i’m not sulking.”

“you’re absolutely sulking.”

your spine stiffens. you whip around, jaw clenched. “why do you even care?”

he’s on his feet before the words finish echoing, fast and fluid, like something coiled finally springing. you barely register the movement before he’s standing before you, too close. towering. calm.

his hand lifts, slow, almost cautious. the gesture contrasts the weight of his presence; all fire and ruin. his thumb brushes your cheek. just barely. like he’s testing the edges.

“i care,” he says, soft but firm, “because it offends me to think anyone else has ever made you feel uncertain of what’s mine.”

your breath catches, unsteady.

his touch trails lower, to the curve of your jaw, anchoring you. his voice dips into something quieter. he doesn’t raise it. he never has to.

“you think some idiot who didn’t know how to hold you gets to decide how you see yourself now? after everything you’ve endured? after surviving me?”

there’s heat behind your eyes, and you hate it. but it’s there. he sees it. of course he does.

he leans in — not enough to touch, not quite. but close enough that the space between you feels intimate. unavoidable.

“i want you,” he says. “every version. every scar. every fury and ache and tenderness. i want you when you’re sharp and untouchable. and i want you when you’re unraveling.”

his thumb tips your chin up. not a demand. a nudge.

“do you understand me?”

you nod, slow, trembling beneath it all. but it’s not enough for him.

“use your words.”

“…yes,” you breathe.

his eyes narrow, testing.

“yes, i understand.”

he studies you a beat longer. then, apparently satisfied, he exhales through his nose and tugs you forward until your forehead rests against his collarbone. his arms curl around you, slow, sure, possessive.

“good,” he murmurs. “now stop sulking before i decide to strangle you for real.”

a muffled laugh escapes you before you can stop it as his arms tighten. he’s pleased. like he’s claimed something.

maybe he has.

because when he walks you back to the bed, not forceful, just certain, when he pulls the covers over your limbs with finality, when he gathers you into him like a crown too precious for the world to touch, something inside you finally lets go.

you’re not too much.

you’re not not enough.

you are his.

and in sukuna’s world, what’s his is sacred.

KAMO CHOSO

the apartment settles into quiet like it always does, the hum of the heater, the faint clink of dishes cooling in the sink, the silence pressed soft and heavy between two bodies that haven’t spoken in a while.

you’re still in your going-out clothes. makeup smudged, jewelry half-removed, hair pulled back like you couldn’t stand the weight of it anymore. your reflection in the blank tv screen looks tired. stretched thin at the edges. like you were holding something in all night and now it’s coming loose.

you don’t know why it hit so hard. the party wasn’t bad. no one was cruel. everyone smiled at the right moments. choso stayed close, his hand on the small of your back, his expression unreadable in that way of his, not cold, just hard to reach.

but somewhere between the sixth inside joke you didn’t understand and the third time someone interrupted you mid-sentence, something small in you began to crack.

and now it’s all rushing out at once. not in sobs. not in tears.

just in the quiet, gnawing doubt you thought you’d buried years ago.

you sit on the couch, knees pulled up, eyes unfocused. choso is in the kitchen, rinsing the last of the glasses from earlier — sleeves rolled up, movements slow, methodical. like cleaning gives him something to hold on to.

he doesn’t speak right away when he comes back. just stands in the doorway for a beat too long, watching you. you don’t have to look to know. he’s always watching when you go quiet.

you hate how much that makes you want to cry.

you don’t mean to say it aloud.

but you do.

“i must’ve seemed off tonight.”

he doesn’t answer right away. just watches you, the way he always does.

so you go on. too soft. too fast.

“i don’t blame you if you were embarrassed.”

his brows draws together like he doesn't understand. because of course he doesn't, not in the way you do, where you've been second guessing yourself since you were thirteen.

he moves then, slow, silent steps across the room. the kind of movement that would startle if it weren’t so careful, so practiced. like he’s always had to be mindful of how much space he takes up. he sinks onto the couch beside you, his weight pulling the cushions down. you feel the shift. the warmth. he doesn’t touch you. just sits close enough for the heat of him to remind you you’re not alone.

still, he says nothing.

you glance sideways. he’s staring at the floor.

his jaw is tight. the silence stretches, soft and sharp. like the space between lightning and thunder.

and then he lifts his head. slowly. looks at you like he’s just heard something he doesn’t understand , something that doesn’t make sense in a language he thought he was fluent in.

his brow furrows.

not in confusion.

in disbelief.

he blinks once, like trying to clear it. like he’s checking if you’re serious.

“embarrassed?” he echoes, voice quiet. “by you?”

you draw your arms tighter around your legs. press your cheek to your knee. and you hate how you feel yourself closing in, folding smaller and smaller. like if you keep still enough, the lingering doubt won't bloom even further the way it always does. like you can trap it in your lungs and exhale it later.

“everyone else is so easy,” you say. “they talk without thinking. they laugh and it sounds real. i’m just… trying not to say the wrong thing. or too much. or not enough.”

and then he laughs. not because it’s funny. not because he’s mocking you. it’s short. breathless. a sound cut from the middle of a scoff. like something in him can't quite process the absurdity of it.

he rubs a hand down his face. then over his mouth. still shaking his head, eyes dark.

you feel your chest tighten, shame curling in your throat. you don’t know why it hurts more that he’s reacting like this — like the thought alone unsettles him.

then, softly:

“is that really what you think?”

he turns to face you, full now. and you can see it all, up close: the flicker of frustration, the rawness underneath it. but it’s not aimed at you. not even a little.

he looks at you like someone trying to remember how to breathe.

and suddenly, you realize —

he doesn’t know how to do this. not the talking, not the gentle, not the naming of feelings. but he’s trying. hard.

you nod. just once. small. shame creeping up your neck.

his hand moves before he even seems to decide it — just a touch to your arm, the back of his fingers grazing your sleeve. like he wants to make sure you’re real.

“you were the only person in that room,” he says,“who didn’t want something from me.”

you look up.

his eyes don’t flinch.

“you weren’t trying to be impressive. or charming. or easy to like.”

he swallows.

“you were just being you. and i couldn’t stop looking.”

your breath hitches. it’s not the words, it’s the way they sit in the air between you. like they were carved instead of spoken.

his thumb brushes the inside of your wrist, hesitant

and then quieter, he says almost to himself, “i didn’t know it was possible to want someone this much and still think it’s not enough.”

you don’t mean to cry, but your eyes burn. his other hand comes up slowly, touches your jaw. his thumb rests just under your cheekbone, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.and he leans in, not to kiss, but just to rest his forehead lightly against yours. grounding. still.

“i’m not that good at this,” he breathes.

you nod. whisper, “i know.”

“but i’m not leaving,” he says.

not a promise. not a reassurance.

a fact.

he draws you in, finally, arms wrapping around you like a barrier against the rest of the world. not tight, but firm. like the way people hold onto the only thing that’s ever made sense. you press your face into his shoulder, and he smells like laundry soap and warmth and the faintest trace of clove from the candle.

neither of you speaks after that.

he doesn’t need to.

the room hums around you: gentle, lived-in, dim.

and for the first time that night, you let yourself belong.

[cuntphoric]

suguru loves kissing the inside of your thigh first. sucks a mark into the soft skin, then drags his long tongue up like he’s giving you time to fall apart before he really starts.

his mouth is slow at first. a tease. he licks into you with his whole tongue, warm and mean, and when the ring presses against your clit you go completely still. it’s sharper than you expect. way cooler.

he focuses there. circles it. lets the ring roll over the same spot until it aches. the pressure builds too fast—tight, sweet, relentless—and all you can do is grip the sheets and take it.

suguru doesn’t say a word. just stays down, mouth messy and open, his jaw moving with this steady rhythm that makes your thighs shake. you feel the way suguru groans into you—low and hungry—and when the sound hits your cunt you swear you nearly came just from that.

his tongue moves faster. piercing hitting exactly where you want—need it, again, again, again. no breaks, no mercy. you cum hard, eyes shut, hips lifted into his mouth like you're offering it to him.

he doesn’t stop until your whole body goes soft and limp. then he sits back, wipes his mouth, and pants. he’s barely keeping it together.

"again-"

3/3!!

[exquisink]

Imagine hating on me but i spend my free time maladaptive daydreaming about getting raw dogged by fictional men

[curryluvr69]

[avaredava]

JJK men and your weird questions

MDNI

Master lists

Nanami Kento:

You're raking your nails up and down Nanami Kentos bare chest, heaving up and down after having long sweaty sex.

He hit from the back today, even though he doesn't like it because he can't see your pretty face but seeing your ass jiggle makes up for it.

"What if I hit it from the back Nanami?"

He shut his eyes tight ribbing the bridge of his nose as he caresses your back. "How would that even work love?" He asked with an overstimulated hint in his voice.

"Baby you do a lot and you didn't even do aftercare because your overwhelmed and stuff but I want you to sit there and look pretty my gorgeous queen." You say with your lips puckered.

"Whatever makes you happy princess."

"Whoop! I love you so much Nanami, I already bought the strap."

"Oh my god."

He said for the tenth time today, he gets tired being your husband but he couldn't live without you.

Toji Fushiguro:

When you ovulate it's rough. Toji makes fun of you sometimes, because it's like your sex deprived, like he didn't just fuck you into the mattress an hour ago.

But seeing his muscles bulge in his tight shirt. But it's also good when he wears a baggy shirt too.

So when he stretched you can see his v muscle and happy trail leading to happy places.

So you instantly get wet. But for some reason the normal sex that last like 30. Minutes feels so good.

But it's so fast and quick. You need something slow and sensual. But sometimes you get so wet, you need it to be fast.

But maybe something else...

"Toji can I sit on your face?"

He turned his head back with a small grin. And a little nod just made your squeeze your thighs together.

Yeah he did not let you get off his face all night.

Suguru Geto:

Suguru will always be a dom, no matter what.

But sometimes it pisses you off. So mid sex when he was plowing into you missionary you started to yap.

"Fuck- Suguru so uhm I wanna talk about something." You say trying to stay composed because his thick cock was rubbing on every one of your sweet spots.

"Yeah? What's that pretty?" He said it in a breathy tone that made your clit throb. His hair hanging in front of his while is more shorter hair in the front stuck to his forehead with sweat.

He let out a shaky breath out when you held him closer. To whisper something in his ear.

"Can I like... eat your ass out?"

He rolls inside half way in a thrust and looks at you while he stopped. "What did you say?" His fazed look leaving his face to a more confused one.

"Like your chocolate starfish?"

His face dropped and pulled out immediately. He left, making you feel empty and a bit sad since he usually gives you after care but he ran into the washroom and you hear a ding on your phone.

"Listen, only if you never tell anyone because like it kinda sounds fun as long as it's with you."

Yeah this means more than aftercare.

Satoru Gojo:

"What's your opinion on smacking?"

"What?" He said snapping his head back to behind the couch to where you were standing, fluttering his white lashes over his wide open baby blues.

"I don't mean meanly, I mean like during sex." You respond in an overly happy voice, like you want him to hit you.

And of course his jaw drops, like the dramatic baby boy he is. He never wants to hit you. Even if mildly pinched you and he saw a blemish of red on your skin because he did that too you he would die. (His words, not yours)

"No!"

He said almost instantly after panicking, with a long stare and a gaping mouth.

"But..." His demeanor fully changed into cocky, you sometimes don't know how it works. But it happens.

"You can smack me mommy dommy."

You walk off with a roll of your eyes. "Eugh you ruined it, I'm leaving."

"Wait!"

Ryomen Sukuna:

"Can you scratch your name out on my back?"

"Why in the world would I do that woman?" He said with a scrunch of his eyebrows and all four of his arms crossed.

You're sitting on his knee in his empty throne room. Just sitting quietly like he likes it. You're just reading and he's relaxing but looking over your shoulder once and a while to read what you're reading.

So the random breaking of silence just made him surprised. Especially when you said that.

"I wanna show people you own me." You said with a small smirk. Like he doesn't have you clinging to his hip 24/7.

But he gave in anyway, mid back shots (like usual) you felt his long nail drawing his name small on the back. A tramp stamp.

It hurt for a second but it quickly stopped when he used his cursed technique to heal it before it started to bleed.

The next morning you look at your back in the mirror, it was his first and last name in the prettiest font. He surprisingly has good hand writing.

When the scar goes away he'll do it again.

[blueberryfics]

dinner party

You and your partner text each other on the low while you’re at a dinner party together.

Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Shoko Ieiri, Choso Kamo, Takuma Ino

gn!reader

CONTAINS: fluff, crack, slightly suggestive in Kento’s, drunk Shoko (…typical)

My blog is 18+. Minors please DNI!

[leviskittywh0re]

SUGURU I LOVE YOU MY SWEET BABY😫🫠💜

Oh shy!Suguru who has nothing but sweet praises falling from his lips... uh, while giving you such heavy, hard-hitting strokes that you begin to worry; is he going to break you or the bed first? "You take it so well," he mumbles into your neck, "I love you, I love being this close to you..." while he drives every last inch into you as if he's the sex-crazed ovulating mess. No, you can't say you ever suspected shy!Suguru of having such an insane sex drive, but you did catch a naughty look in his eye. And yeah, he was hot and horny for you from the very moment he met you... now worse, he's downright obsessed with you... come on, can you blame him? He hasn't sunk his dick into pussy this good for a long time. Now he's got your eyes rolling into the back of your head, oh, no, worse than that, he's got you shuddering and crying and freaking out because no other man has ever fucked you quite as ruthlessly as him. And if you guessed that he was trying to ruin you for other men, you'd be right — he was trying to make sure you remembered how deep he hit, how much he stretched your slutty holes open, how sweetly he talked you through your little orgasms. Shy!suguru was not shy in the bedroom. Oh god no. He he had no shame. The sheets got soaked and he wanted round 2 before you could catch your breath — he was a sweaty mess, had just given you the fucking of a god-damned lifetime that you'd definitely feel in your hips and legs tomorrow, but he still gave you this innocent pleading look, begged you for more like he was starved of sex, "Baby, just one more. I'll be gentle." and no he fucking wasn't, the liar — if anything, he was rougher than the first round. But you had hardly a complaint, too stuck on how it felt to get all your favorite gummy soft spots destroyed by your new favorite boy.

[eristhenat]

year's end

[alexiroflife]

jjk men as "sinners" vampires... trying to lure you in

MDNI, mentions of violence, ryan coogler's "sinners" film references, angst, vampire!au, slightly gory descriptions, a smidgen of fluff with a whole lot of seduction, uhh mentions of spit in choso's, f|ngering in choso's gulp, suggestive themese, mentions of death, taunting, i'm in a chokehold

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

-> sinners changed my life. i don't even have the words. the history, the music, the representation, the cinematography??? BROTHERRRR. my culture is so beautiful and so is bo chow telling grace that he got the car warmed up after he turned and micheal b. jordan with vampire grills, so now i gotta make this a cross-fandom headcanon problem. ya'll this had to be done and it will be done with aot men too.

satoru gojo: "come give me a kiss..."

you know it's not your husband when you catch the flicker of hellfire in his normally, now you particularly realize, virtuous sapphire eyes. in the midst of tonight's horror, he stands so still as a symphony of daunting low humming, celtic triumphance, and the nauseating stench of blood rise into the air and intermix, dancing about in a manifestation of dark chaos. and there your husband is in the doorway, a partner to the horrors with a hand pressed to the frame as shaggy white hair flutters into lidded eyes. eyes that you know are no longer his.

his pink lips curve into a soft, flirtatious smile, one that you have seen time and time again. yet the image you would have sworn you knew like the back of your hand appears foreign to you. something silent, something sinister grasps it, and gone is the man you once knew. gone is the spirit from his gaze and grin, an undead mischief serving in its place.

"what's the matter, baby?"

his smooth voice rumbles into a playful taunt, filtering into your ears like a seductive lament for the dead. a rasping breath subtly catches his words, striking you as something like a predatory animal. your eyes well with tears as you look over satoru's pearly white skin, somehow even paler in the moonlight... he practically glows.

your eyes drift down to the tattered button-up adorning his strapping figure as he crosses an ankle over the other and leans, hovering over you between the invisible barrier protecting you from the outside of the club.

you gulp, tracing the patches of smeared blood over his white fabric with your trembling eyes, over the stains that coat his fingertips. your body shakes, a lump lodging itself in your throat as you are forced into abrupt mourning.

this isn't satoru. this isn't the man you love.

he's dead before you.

"you're looking a little pale," he continues, causing you to snap your eyes back up to his face. he tilts his head as his smirk stretches, dimples poking into his cheek with the subtly baring of his sharpened teeth.

it's strange. you can still feel his desire as he zones in on you, soaking you into his surveillance as he shamelessly admires your features like he wants to ravish you.

however, now, you are sure that he does not intend to ravish you the way you would necessarily hope.

"is my pretty girl not feeling well?” satoru practically bullies you with his tone and his words, for the monster knows exactly why you appear so unsettled before him. he is mentally stripping you down, taking you apart piece by piece, utilizing the love he knows you have for him as well as his love that has charged into hunger as a means to reel you in.

“do you want a kiss to make it all go away? that used to help with anything. i’m certain it’ll help now. aren’t you?”

your heart is hammering with fear, grief, love, and you are afraid to even open your mouth to speak. to make a single movement with your body. satoru has you paralyzed. a spell has been cast over you by some kind of curse, and you are distraught. distraught by the death that has suddenly gripped your husband of two years, and distraught by the fact that you are having a significantly hard time mustering up the strength to walk away from him.

for though his soul has left his body, it still looks like him. it still, to some extent, feels like him. your heart and mind and body still long to react to him as if he is still yours, as if he is still alive and human.

"come on, (y/n)."

and when he calls your name, it is still his voice that rings it, his tongue that your address rolls off of so longingly.

“just step on outside and give me a kiss.”

you must be insane for wanting to, you think to yourself. for how can you accept the vicious murder of your husband so easily, especially when he stands before you, devilishly handsome, asking you for something you did not think you would ever be able to give him again?

“come on. you know you want to,” satoru hums. “it’ll make you feel so much better. i can make that pout on your pretty face go away just like that.”

you do not even take offense when he refers to your bloodshot red puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and snotty nose as a ‘pout.’ all you hear is your satoru, and it kills you internally how desperately you still need him though every bone in your body is screaming at you to turn away before you are next.

when satoru catches that a part of him is getting to you somehow, he shifts himself slightly, lifting his head to stare down at you head on, his playfulness dwindling as his steely eyes sharpen.

“or… if you don’t wanna come outside…” he murmurs, eyes tracing down your body, studying calmly how tear droplets break from your chin and splatter onto your exposed chest. he takes in a slow, deep breath through his nose, distant memories of watching you dress in pink silk for tonight’s festivities fluttering somewhere in the back of his skull, further fueling his bloodlust, melded with an honest desire to never part with you.

you hold your breath, looking directly into his eyes as his lips part and shiny fangs peak through. “...you can just let me in so i can feel that pretty mouth of yours on mine. you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. i’ll take care of it for you. just like i always do.”

his words wrap around you like a snake tightening its coils around prey, entrancing you in the steady dismantling of your self control.

your breath hitches in your throat, your fist tightening at your sides as your fingers dig in your palm hard enough to draw blood.

satoru notices, and for the first time since his slaughter, you see his lips spread into a toothy, excited grin, canines pointed enough to break skin with a simple nick.

“ohhh…” he coos “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you gulp heart, fighting yourself internally, nose flaring, skin heating.

“well, i can make that happen. all you gotta do, pretty, is say the words.”

he brings his face in just the smallest bit closer, still confined to the outside by his current obstacle. you can smell the fading cologne on his neck, feel the bitter coolness of his breath fan your face.

“let me in.”

suguru geto: "you know better..."

"angel..."

you hear his voice practically singing for you from just outside the doorway, on the other side of the wall, but you do not dare fall for his charm. you can not afford to now, for it unfortunately may cost you your life.

but suguru geto has always been a twistedly persuasive man. perhaps it was the manipulative tendencies he tended to put to use when working with unpleasant people, but he never would have used them on you before...

not when he was alive and human, at least.

now, as you shield yourself by pressing your back to the wall just beside the entryway, hiding away from your turned fiancé's beautiful face, you dread the notion that you may fall victim to his pretty words.

"now, now. you know better than to hide away from me, let alone pretend you don't hear me speaking to you."

his gentle voice slinks into your ear, testing you, tempting you.

you tense, cramping up every muscle in your body as if that will help you reject him, as if restricting your body will somehow reduce your longing to be with him, no matter what he was turned into.

you can practically feel him. how he hovers, how he lingers just on the other side of where you stand, how he taunts you with his looming physicality, how he knows that your instilled connection to him will draw you out of hiding any moment now.

you want to fight the drug that is him that has somehow amplified in his vampiric state, but your fiancé is gone. he’s been ripped from you, and all that is left is this monster that resembles him, that is his flesh and bone but not his soul.

in spite of it all, in spite of the carnage he seeks and the chaos he wishes to inspire, it is still suguru geto. it is still his long beautiful hair, his silky skin, his damned hypnotic voice.

"don't do that to me, (y/n). don't ignore me. it makes me so sad."

you can hear the playful pout, and your stomach flips.

"i can hear you, you know. i can hear you breathing."

your eyes blow wide and you instinctively hold your breath, raising your head and pressing your lips together tightly.

a melodic, gentle chuckle slips out of him, the sound just as beautiful as it was when he was living.

"nice try, but that means i can hear when you try to hide it too."

christ, he will let nothing go unseen? he's torturing you, swarming you with the attention he knows you will not be able to deny.

"i can hear your heart beating too," he reveals, his voice dropping deeper, lower. "it's beating so fast. am i making you nervous?""

"just stop talking, suguru," you hush out along with your held breath, and now that you have answered, both you and suguru know that he's caught you.

"ahhh, there's that beautiful voice," he smiles. "how lovely it is to talk to you again, angel."

"suguru, this is-" you suck in some air as sweat beads over your forehead. "this is fucked. leave me alone."

"why are you giving me so much attitude? i thought you liked talking to me."

"you're not my fiancé."

"now how could you say such a thing when your fiancé is right here talking to you?"

"suguru, stop. i can't do this with you. you're gone. you're dead. i know why you're here, and you're not gonna get inside.''

"that's a bit pessimistic... i prefer to keep my mind open and stay positive."

"well, optimism isn't gonna make me do otherwise. i'm not letting you in."

"alright. then you can come outside to me."

you whip your head. "no," you deny sternly.

"you're thinking on this too much, (y/n)," he says. "i'm not gonna hurt you. you know i'd never hurt you."

"i don't believe you."

"i just want to see you. can't you at least let me do that?"

"i said no, suguru."

"you don't have to step outside. i won't make you," he continues. "i just want to speak to you face to face. i hate having this wall between us."

you close your eyes and grind down on your teeth.

he's too good at this. too good at making you want to give into him.

"just take a few steps to the right so we can talk in the doorway. i can't get in either way. you have nothing to worry about."

you do not answer, for you ponder it.

"(y/n)," he drawls. "what did i say about ignoring me?"

"shut up."

"you know that's not how we communicate. we never ignore each other."

and you hate yourself for it, but that is what does it for you. that is what crashes through the weak wall you temporarily had up in order to keep yourself from giving him too much, from deceiving you into eventually letting him inside. it starts with letting him see you, and nevertheless, you break because of how perfectly his previous words align with something the normal him would have said.

it is your only glimpse of who he was before he turned. before he died.

he fooled you, with references to your relationship style and the sweetness of his tone.

he must sense that you are relinquishing control, and he leans further into it. "right?"

"one minute," you state swiftly. "you have one minute to say what you want to say to me."

"one minute," he agrees, humoring what you convince yourself to be the control you already lost. "no more and no less."

you know you shouldn't. you know you'll only fall for what he tells you.

but you have to look him in the eye and see him truly changed before you.

so you cautiously step away from the wall and into the doorway, open to a perfect view of the vast land and abandoned cars.

suguru slowly saunters his way over, a satisfied smile capturing his face with shining eyes. his hair sways with his movements as he stands before you, the splatters of blood on his cheek not going unseen.

the urge to cry takes over you as you look over him, and his smile widens. "atta girl."

nanami kento: "i got the car all warmed up..."

you think you're dreaming up some kind of horrific nightmare for a moment.

it all happened so fast. the witnessing of a demon of the night flying into your innocent friend, sinking teeth into his neck and blood spurting about the grass and the side of the wall.

you could only pray that your husband made it home safely until you see him saunter over to the open doorway where you stand calmly, dress shoes crunching into the gravel as he approaches. the bloody scene transpires to the side, and you find yourself whipping your head between both the murder and the unfathomable sight of your husband, who has not even spared a glance into that direction.

"k-kento?" you stammer, heartbeat in your ears.

the said man looks up at you and smiles, fiddling with his car keys.

you do not wish to think the worst. you know this image is strange, but you do not want to entertain the thought... that your husband has become one of them.

yet his entire presence is offputting. not a trace of anxiety or concern for anything is written on his face. he presents as something like a simulation or robot beyond your comprehension, for this thing is not behaving the way your husband, nanami, would, despite his identical likeness to him.

"let's go, honey," he looks at you blankly with a small, polite smile. you blink, immensely confounded. you twitch to go with him, but those around you, as well as yourself, instinctively know that you must stay put.

you have not accepted it yet. you can not accept it yet.

you furrow your brows, eyes glazing over as you look at your strapping husband in awe. he looks back at you almost lovingly, kindly, but it is not the same love and kindness you know him to possess. it feels empty, the way his honey brown eyes meet yours. it is like he is voice of feeling, void of any warmth that you once knew him to withhold.

"kento, what are you doing? what happened?"

the gnarly sound of hungry growling accompanied by flesh ripping fills the space when it is silent, and you fight how you want to look over.

you find it disturbing how the blonde has yet to spare a passing glance to the scene. a man is actively being devoured by a vampire right there before you all, and he looks at you expectantly as though he does not notice.

"i was just getting the car warmed up for you, sweetheart," he assures you affectionately. "it's all ready to go. come, love. let's go home."

home?

you feel something crumble within you.

you want to go home so terribly. it is the one thing you want more than anything in this life at the time being, and kento knew that before stepping out to get the car. he knew by the look of terror on your face that he had to get you out of here, so he tredded out into unknown danger for you hours ago. he got the car started for you. and he came back for you...

but you realize that the nanami that left you is not the same nanami that has returned to you.

kento turns after your pause to outstretch his had clutching the keys and click a button. your car beeps in response, but you did not miss the blood staining the back of his shirt that is only revealed when he turns his body.

your jaw hangs open and your hands come to cover your mouth to prevent from openly wailing. this catches kento's attention, as he turns back around and lowers the keys.

"see?"

he lifts his brows at you, holding out his hand toward you. your eyes blur over with tears as you stare at his hand. the hand you would once eagerly clasp in your own now tinged with blurred red.

"let's go."

"ken, wh-" you're shaking uncontrollably. struggling to speak through your tremors as your hands hover over your face. "d-do you not see what's- what's happening right next to you?"

a tear breaks past your lashes as kento finally turns to look, and a naive part of you almost hopes that he will jump back in shock upon taking in the sight he could have possibly missed.

instead, he lowers his head with a soft chuckle. his hair, once slicked back, falls over his face in waterfall-like strands as he ducks in amusement. "don't worry about that, honey. he's just a little hungry. that's all."

you think you are going to be sick when you register his reply.

kento looks back up at you casually, stretching his hand out to you once more. "i'll get you away from that. it's alright."

you can hardly see him now through your tears, and you do not wish to. you can not look at the face that was once true to you as whatever hides in his skin tries to trick you with sweet promises.

your husband is dead, you realize, and your world comes crashing down around you.

it all happens within your mind, however, as you are now void of any words that could even begin to respond appropriately to this situation or convey how you are feeling.

kento notices how you do not take his hand and he lets it fall to his side. "if you're not comfortable with that, then..." he pauses, tucking the car keys back into his pocket.

he takes a few steps closer to the doorway, pressing his lips together as he peers down at you peacefully. you unwind before him, yet he does not pay any mind to your turmoil.

instead, he presents you with another solution.

"then maybe you can let me in so i can get all of our things and head home."

he threads a bloody hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face so that he can see you clearly.

with this new view, you watch a pale light swirl in his dead brown eyes as he lowers his voice for you, and only you, to hear.

"would that be better for you, honey?"

choso kamo: "just a taste..."

you've never seen choso so commanding in his fit of desperation before.

the last you had seen of him before he whisked you away from a game of spades with the gentle call of your name and the clasp of your hand was when he stepped outside to ensure the area was safe at this time of night.

and suddenly, he's come back with a blinding hot urge to strip you naked and take you in the middle of the dance floor for everybody to see.

the club is alive with soulful music and dance, and therefore choso is as well, sliding warm palms expertly down your naval from behind, pressing your back flush to his chest as your hips sway with his.

he is so quiet, but you know he is there by the way he touches you, the way he breathes you in with his nose nudging the pulse of your neck, and the way his diamond eyes train on yours.

normally, the brunette's actions are careful, hesitant, but tonight he takes charge in the way he holds you and stares into your eyes, an unspoken greed simmering in his gaze.

your body knows better than to deny this, but your mind wishes to warn. something gnaws at you in the back of your mind to be careful, but you elect to ignore the feeling.

it's choso, after all. the man has been your loving boyfriend for years. he's the only man you would confidently say that you feel safe and secure in the presence of. if anything, you decide that the alcohol buzzing in your system has risen a hint of irrational paranoia.

so you lean into him, head falling against his shoulder as he further encircles you. he hovers over your shoulder, inching his face closer to yours as though on a mission. he keeps you snug, tightening his embrace of you and brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

the erratically soul-twisting strum of the guitar ascends, almost puppeteering choso's actions as he rushes in to kiss you hard, mirroring the pulse of the crowd with the swallowing of your mouth.

you hum, taken as he cradles your head and leans you over, dipping you as the chorus livens. choso is firm, possessive, and it has your head reeling. he feels different, suddenly. stoic, yet buzzing inside with hunger for you.

it does not take long before you are led in a daze to the nearby bathroom and shoved roughly up against the wall. you can not even open yours eyes to see choso slam the door behind him as he swarms you, lips swimming passionately together as he presses you between himself and the wall, leaving you with nowhere to run.

"cho," you moan as you momentarily part, a string of spit connecting your damp, swollen lips.

choso groans, a deep, desperate sound that he forces you to swallow when he pushes back in, tongue slithering into your cavern and intertwining with yours.

you're lightheaded, hardly cognizant of anything but your boyfriend's touch and the way you grind eagerly against his crotch. large palms caress over your dress, travel down, and sneak under the silk, sliding over bare skin and hiking your fabric up to your hip.

he hoists you up, your legs wrapping over his torso as he steadies you with a hand to the bum and your back flat against the wall. "don't look away from me," he breathes when he snaps his lips away from yours.

your heavy eyes search his as you nod obediently, lips parted. choso holds you gaze intensely, diamond eyes shining rather brilliantly as his free hand sneaks between the two of you, creeping fingers toward your heat.

your jaw falls open the moment his thick fingers brush against your bundle of nerves beneath your panties and your arms tighten around his neck instinctively. choso shudders an inhalation, keeping his eyes to you as he tugs your panties to the side and slowly drags his middle finger up your wet slit.

you gasp pleasantly and choso twitches, breath heavy.

"cho," you whisper his name again, but he does not stop. you can tell a part of him is listening to you though as his finger slowly nudges past your folds and to your entrance. you whimper softly. "c-cho, you're... you're drooling, baby."

and though he does very little to acknowledge your observation, a trail of saliva slides down his chin from the corner of his mouth. he says nothing, only grunting to himself as his finger slides into your warmth. you gape, knocking your head back against the wall as choso follows, bringing his slick lips to hover over yours.

"lick it off of me," he orders, hot against your skin.

the orgasmic spell you are under eases you into action. you lean forward pressing your tongue out to glide against his milky skin as he tenderly works his finger in and out of you. you both synchronize a needy moan as you lap up his spit, and choso catches your lips before you can fall away from him again.

your soft moans transition into muffled cries as choso swallows them up, an added finger, then suddenly three pistoning in and out of you with loud squelches. you cling to him tightly, drowning in pleasure as he kisses you as though it is the very last time he ever will.

he moves down to slather wet kisses over your jaw, then down to your neck. he sucks and slurps graciously at the skin. your cries blend into the music just outside the door, and choso lets you scream. he encourages you to - pushes you to.

you feel his teeth graze your neck in the midst of his kisses and he nips lightly. you feel him tremble. you clench around his fingers, inching closer and closer toward your high when you hear a sharp intake of air followed by the bitter pinch of teeth sinking into your neck.

you scream out in pain, your pleasure having been short-lived as choso rips his hand from your legs. his teeth are still embedded into your skin as you writhe against his strong hold, seering blood dribbling from the point of puncturing.

you are befuddled, startled, before the terror grips you. choso breaks free, ripping from your skin as you wail. he tosses his head back, savoring the blood that lingers on his lips and stains his mouth down to his chest. his tongue darts out to collect the dribbling, oozing liquid, and when he lifts his head, you see a monster staring back at you with yellow eyes and razor sharp teeth.

"you taste delicious, my love."

it is the very last thing you hear him say before your world goes dark.

toji fushiguro: "let me out, baby..."

you know you aren't hallucinating.

you felt his life leave him, you watched the light fade from his eyes as he stared up at you, angered, aggrieved, missing the future you in his very last moments.

you held his head as his blood soaked into your clothes, drenching your hands and arms. you sobbed over him as his guts spilled from his left side.

you watched your boyfriend die.

so how is it possible now...

that you can hear him on the other side of the storage room door, banging mercilessly against the locked door, calling out for you over and over.

you stare in shock and terror as the sound of his fists pounding against wood echoes throughout the space, the door itself creaking and curving outward under the sheer force of his hands.

you know that strength. you know those hurried, impatient grunts, the passion entangled with every dangerous shout of your name through the barrier that keeps you rightfully separated. you know the hoarseness of that voice, the impatience, the power.

you know it to be toji fushiguro's. you know it to belong to the love of your life's, but your mind betrays you when the recent memory of his murder flashes across your brain. toji is dead. you watched him die. you are mourning him right now, so what the fuck is fighting against the door, working desperately to break free from the only space occupied by your dead man's body?

"(y/n)!" he bellows again, a throaty, rugged call... the call of an otherworldy being, not the call of the man you know. "(y/n)! i know you can hear me, girl! why ain't you answering me?"

goosebumps sprout over the entirety of your skin, and your pupils shrink and your eyes grow wide. your heart sinks to your stomach and suddenly, you can not breathe. you can not think. you can not hear anything happening around you except for toji.

except for his undead presence.

and suddenly, the urge to see him strikes like a bolt of lightning. you had locked him away, urging yourself to stay far from the reminder of what you and many others have lost. you had pushed back thoughts of burying him to be dealt with later, for you had sworn to yourself that the last time you had seen him was the final time.

but there he was, manifested in sound alone just beyond that door.

it could have been a trick. it could have been a hallucination.

either way, you know it's too good to be true, which is why you are so drawn to see, to check, to take him in one more time.

you take a cautious step forward, shiu's demands for you to step back falling into white noise behind you. you approach the door slowly as it bangs until you are right there before it.

you press your hand to the caving door carefully, ever so slowly, and a whisper brushes past your lips. "toji."

suddenly, the pounding stops. the door lay still, silent, and toji's shouts for you cease. the empty air rings in your ears as you wait for it to be occupied by something again, anything that could bring him back to you.

everything is painfully still until you hear heavy feet shuffle.

"dollface," he exhales into something resembling a relieved chuckle. you jolt, stunned by his response, for it can only mean that the sound - the presence of toji is in fact real before you.

and his voice, now steady and low, treading with a light silkiness that almost gives you whiplash due to its contrast from his previous snarls, shakes something within you.

"talk t'me, doll. i know you're there," he encourages after a moment of prolonged silence. you ache and give in, just as you always would have.

"hi toji," you shiver.

you can practically hear him grin. you can feel him behind the door through your head as he knocks his head against it. you imagine his arms supporting his weight as they prop above his head on either side of the frame.

"hey, darlin'. that's right. it's me, it's toji," he breathes out as though exasperated. his voice is pressed to the door, muffled against your ear as you ease into him as much as you safely can. "i know you heard me callin' ya. why didn't you answer?"

you sniffle, throat tightening and brows scrunching. "toji, you were dead," you hiss. "i held you."

"nah, nah," he denies the very reality you both lived, the reality you will relive for the rest of time. "nah, it was just a little scratch. that's all it was. y'know it takes a lot more than that to knock me out. i'm all better now."

"you bled out. that thing... it attacked you."

"like i said. a scratch. it scratched me, but i survived. i'm alive."

he sounds almost manic to you, swearing things you know to be untrue. speaking to you with his mouth to the wood, urging you to be convinced by the tautness in his low voice.

you shake your head, trusting what you saw though it kills you. "no," you whimper, rubbing your forehead against the ridges of the door. "no, toji. no."

"what're you crying for, huh? i'm right here."

"you're dead, toji," you break out a sob.

"cut that out. you hear me talkin' to ya. i'm good," he grumbles. you close your eyes, imagining his head pressing against yours, his hands holding your waist, his scent capturing you.

"i can't," you tell yourself, him.

"heyyy, it'll all be okay, (y/n). i know ya miss me. i'm right here, darlin'. go ahead and open the door so i can show ya. i don't want you cryin' no more."

you press your lips together, swallowing down your cries as your chest jerks and the tears flow once more.

"...(y/n)... let me out, baby. let me out so i can see ya."

a part of you wants to. a part of you allows your hand to fall onto the door knob and just hold it as you toyed with the thought of letting him take you, of letting this monster posing as your boyfriend tear you away from life the way toji was torn from his.

"soon as you let me out, i can take you outta here. how's that sound? we can go wherever y'want. get some food, pop open a beer, and i'll lay you down over th'counter just the way ya like it. i'll love on you real sweet. yeah? you want that? just open up, and you got it."

you can feel his patience dwindling, for you have nothing more you can say.

"(y/n). doll..."

speech suddenly fails you, and before you can blink, your heart is jumping and you're moved hastily away when the pounding abruptly resumes and knocks against your head.

"(y/n)! get me th'fuck out of here! open the door! (y/n)!!"

you assume it is shiu who has gripped your arm and yanked you back as toji's fists attempt to break into the wood. he yells, growls, screams your name once more, reminding you that toji is long gone.

ryomen sukuna: “I’m here to help…”

"get the fuck away from here."

the stranger’s response to your sudden attempt at taking initiative is the same it had been the three times you’d spoken to him prior - a low chuckle accompanied by the trace of his eyes over your body.

you knew something was wrong with him the second he appeared in the fog, like a shadow manifesting from thin air. he had an energy about him, one off putting and bone chilling, cold and unliving.

the second he asked for permission to step inside the club you've taken cover in, you knew for sure something was terribly wrong. you did not take this burly giant as one who would ask anyone for anything. considering his stature, in all his 6’5 glory, he would have very little trouble pushing his way through, past a woman much smaller than him.

this is a being that exudes power, pride. and he certainly was not asking if he could come in to be polite.

and you, tormented by the vision of him, grip a wooden stake tightly in your grasp as you raise it overhead, demonstrating that you will use it to strike on him at any moment you need to - though that is not necessarily a major concern right now, considering the fact that the salmon haired beast can not even walk through the door without your say so.

you are sure he finds it amusing how you grip onto the piece of wood for dear life anyhow, for it is the only thing giving you any sense of security now that your only sense of security is dead, manifested in expired flash as a devil come to haunt victims.

this stake is the only thing you can cling to, to keep from breaking down, to provide some mask of bravery hiding away a heartbroken, terrified victim of massacre.

"my, my," the vampire known to you now as sukuna muses, that condescending tone you’d accustomed to buttering his voice. "you’ve got such a temper, peach. what makes you believe you can get away with talking to me like that?"

"i mean it,” you try to be firm. “go. away. you’re not welcome here.”

“hmmm,” he hums, smirking at you from where he stands a few feet away. he tucks his hands into his dress pants pockets and quirks a brow, flickering a fiery glow in his eye solely to tease you. “that’s not very kind of you. i was hoping to partake in some of your celebration.”

your jaw clenches.

“why so tense, eh?” he pokes gently, crimson eyes beaming their way through the darkness. they appear as small red dots to you from where you reside, and your lips tighten. those eyes, they beam like a serpent’s, like a killer’s, and in turn your blood runs cold beneath their guise. “you must relax. i don't mean any distress."

his voice is dripping with something sinister, and you can tell that he enjoys this mind game he plays with you. he lives for it, for watching you doubt yourself as you pathetically hold up something that likely will not be strong enough to stop the likes of him on its own.

"bullshit," you scoff, turning up your nose. "i know what you're here for."

"yes, as i told you. to celebrate... you should have kept the music playing."

your breathing hastens. "no. no, i know what you are. this isn't about the music, it's about you killing people."

"oh, dear. what a beautiful fool you are," the tan skinned being simpers, fangs shining with his wicked grin. there is something almost sedating about him, as well as there is something intensely frightening.

the ease in which he carries himself with, as though every stride he takes is one he has taken before and memorized... like the very earth was made for him to walk on.

the gentle threat that hides in plain sight within his eerie tone. how it is laced with seductive venom.

the unwavering confidence instilled in him. it unnerves you so, how he trusts that he will get what he wants though you are standing before him and refusing it.

he is too cool and collected for the horror that you know him to be, and it messes with your mind. it has you second-guessing your gut.

"would you like to know something, woman?"

he takes a step forward, to which you involuntarily take a step back from. your movement seems to please him, as he continues with his approach. you ensure that a space still divides you as he strolls up to the doorway, the light from inside illuminating his features.

you see the blood staining his lips, that piercing glow in his eye, and the greatness of his presence, all the better now. you lower the stake slightly, subconsciously, and sukuna's pleasure doubles.

you frown. "i thought i told you to get away."

"those friends of yours," he begins in a hushed tone. your face drops, as you know he is referring to the people he has killed and turned that likely roam about the club in the dusk as you speak. crimson eyes study your paling skin, and the skin beneath his eyes crease with gentle, malicious delight. "particularly... the one with the hat."

you freeze, for you knew it was coming. you knew he was going to taunt you with those he took away from you, and now he does so by making you relive the moment he killed your partner.

he sees that he has struck a nerve, taking note of your glassy eyes, and he presses further, staring you directly in the eye. "mmm. yes. that one. who seemed to have a love for groveling at your feet."

a strike to your heart. "shut up."

"his thoughts... his mind is connected to mine, you see? now that he has joined me," he continues, smirk widening the further your face plummets. "would you like to know... what he thinks of you?"

"no. stop."

"all the sinful, aggregious things that you haven't let him get away with yet?"

"stop it. stop it now."

"did you know that he thinks you're a prude? holding out on him like that. denying him such pleasures."

you know what he is doing. he is trying to push you to the edge. to make you appeal to nonsensical anger for hope that if you snap, you will stupidly challenge him and invite him in.

you can see it, but you find yourself reacting to him and falling into his trap anyway.

you raise the stake high once more, a newfound frustration and anguish clear on your face. you're fueling his fire. you know you are, but you can not seem to stop. he will not let you.

"come, peach. you can not expect yourself to always be wound up this tight. it makes for a bad impression on your lover. look at you," he purrs. "look at how stiff you've allowed yourself to be."

you're body is burning. your thoughts are jumbling with anger, with heartbreak, with desire, with fear, and you do not know what to do but hold onto this stake as a devil picks you apart piece by piece without even touching you.

he has been doing this all night, pushing your buttons, trying to get you to break. you're exhausted. you feel heavy, like you can sink into the floor, and the persistent, alluring jab of this ancient creature is doing little to help you push through.

there is barely anyone left, and he sees that. he sees you. he's seen you since the very first moment he approached this establishment.

"would it not feel amazing to just let go for a moment and give me what i want?" he hums, something sharp flickering in his eye. "if you give in to me, your little friend will surely feel it on my behalf."

his words break you. it is still hours from morning, and you can not take much more of this torment. you are tired. you feel unstable and violent, and you want to give in though you know you will lose.

your lips curl into a tight grimace as you glare ahead with wild eyes, watching the very moment sukuna knows that he has won.

[twilightsumu]

drunk running | s. geto

pairing: suguru geto x afab!reader

synopsis: three years ago, you and suguru thought you both could keep things casual—until a ‘drunken’ “i love you” changed everything. now, after radio silence and unfinished feelings, fate (and your nosy friends) throw you back together. it’s messy, charged, and way too familiar…but this time, will you finally get it right?

warnings/genre: modern au, smau hybrid, angst, miscommunication trope, exfwb to lovers, second chance romance, smut, fluff (eventually), sexual content (mdni), strong language, alcohol use, themes of heartbreak, avoidant behavior, slow emotional progression, fast sexual tension, two idiots (yn & geto)

status: ongoing

taglist: open

dividers: @strangergraphics

playlist

moodboard

🖌️ indicates written portion

🌀 indicates flashback

👥 indicates smut

introductions:

he isn’t just ken | mort the lemur & co

prologue: good time (🖌️🌀👥)

chapter one: touching yourself (🖌️👥)

chapter two: girls like sex (🖌️🌀)

chapter three: sex money feelings die (🖌️)

chapter four: an ego thing

chapter five: cool about it

chapter six: bad thing twice

chapter seven: yuck

chapter eight: say it

chapter nine: cynical one

chapter ten: everything is romantic

epilogue: i’m in love with you