#from what i know/recall of him anyway

[velvetwyrme]

since we are talking about who would give cars a sti, hear me out on this, sunder.

sunder is already a freak and i would not be surprised if he got his hands on a car. i would also not be surprised if he had a sti due to not being mentally there. yes, he was a medic once, but that went out the window after mnemosurgeries.

oooo... sunder... yeah.

honestly i dont even think itd require the mental impairment he's gone through, i can just see it as something he'd relish in anyway.

[aquickstart]

idk i think the beauty of saltburn is also in that its a mirror. so many people see what's looking back at them and we all have different demons and themes we pay attention to. oliver is a girlboss and a mastermind and the plotting was deliberate. oliver is lost and confused and every single plot was a failure. he regrets what he'd done and convinces himself of the opposite. he lies about regretting what he'd done to evoke sympathy. he hated farleigh and he kicked him out. he recognized farleigh for what he is to the cattons and humiliated him. he knows himself and others well. he has no idea what to do and how to be. lots of people get lost at saltburn

[vancalox]

im a eurydice = solas truther btw and ill die for my beliefs

be so serious........ and lavellan as orpheus......

[cosmichawk]

dottore decided to go signora route when dealing w/ nahida

[carefulfears]

what do you think mulder thinks of diana fowley after biogenesis through amor fati? i don't think we really see anything on screen/in text (though i think it says a lot that he didn't have much of a reaction when scully came to his apartment & instead focuses on scully & their relationship lol)

yeah there’s basically NOTHING in the text but tbh i think finding out for certain that she was working with CSM really kindaaaa snapped him out of some things…mulder doesn’t give a fuck what people do to him, obviously, but it’s a different thing entirely to find out that your ex is involved in something like that. like there are MILES from “my partner makes me feel like shit and is maybe pretty abusive” and “my partner is like 3rd on the call list of a eugenics group that treats women like test subjects”

like, scully was right, diana was monitoring MUFON women and collecting data on them. she was heading up the tests on cassandra. she probably knew the truth about samantha the whole time. just nasty nasty shit.

she’s the villain in the amor fati dream: the dismissive symbol of abandonment that offers another path.

one of the most interesting scenes of diana’s character to me, is in the sixth extinction, when she comes to see mulder in the hospital. and she knows what the effects of the artifact are, that he can hear what she’s thinking. that, therefore, he knows who she works for and what she’s doing. (imagine your ex-husband/wannabe boyfriend/obsession finds out you’re lying to him because he can read your mind….shit is crazy!)

and she tells him that she knows he knows. but that he also knows that she loves him.

and she does love him. there’s no reason to lie about that then, she knows he would be able to tell.

scully knows it without hearing it, that’s how she gets diana to save mulder’s life, ultimately. she comes to her and begs. tells her to please just think of him, who he is, who he was when she met him, who he is now. in the end, because of scully weaponizing how diana feels, diana can’t go through with it. she gives her life to help him.

diana seems to be one of those influences on mulder that’s only really all that significant when she’s close by. it’s like how all the tension in the beginning builds up to him getting in her car when she tells him to, leaving scully, when diana is there instructing him.

i think being able to know who she truly was and her true intentions and allegiances, prior to her death, really goes a long way in the way he responds to losing her.

don’t get me wrong, i think he’s upset. you can kind of see the shock cross his face when scully tells him. but he stays focused on his goal, which is to express to scully how important she is to him, in the wake of how discarded diana always made her feel.

mulder loved diana and grieves that she was killed, he doesn’t have it in him not to, but mostly he…wanted something from her, right? he wanted that approval and “affection” and to please her. he wanted her to believe him. the first thing that she says to disarm him (in the end) when she can tell he’s uneasy, is, “hey. i’m on your side.”

learning who she really is, it’s easier not to crave her approval so badly.

(this is the crux of amor fati’s “last temptation.” it’s diana saying: you’re childish. you are going to fail. your path is not your own. “you have to let go, fox.” and it’s scully countering: we need you. this is who you are.)

(it’s why he responds in the end by telling scully that it’s her that’s the voice of truth.)

and then in death, diana’s not…there for him to want anything from!! so it’s like, again, yeah he obviously feels the loss, this was someone who meant a lot to him for over a decade. but also it’s likeeeeee freeing in a way? it makes things simpler in a way? (he’s able to communicate all of that to scully instantly after hearing diana is gone, after over a year of the tension hanging around it)

if you asked him about diana now, or even a year later, i think he’d be like…damn that’s crazy! 😭😭 mulder doesn’t have an awful lot of object permanence you guys sjdjsjfj

when scully comes to tell mulder that diana was killed, and he says to her, “you were my friend, and you told me the truth,” the language matters so much. that’s what scully called diana, “i know she was your friend,” and he turns it back onto her. you were my friend. you told me the truth.

in my opinion, it’s not that he doesn’t love and grieve diana, but that there’s a freedom in knowing the truth. knowing who someone is, and their intentions. knowing who has your best interest at heart. knowing where you stand in the world, what you want to do.

that’s really what allows for the openness and lightness of s7, in the wake of diana’s absence. mulder’s always seeking, always learning.

[joelletwo]

[The Final sugi dying kitten betrayal -> utsuro-gin fight -> sakura boat imagination -> completely tonally consistent with these ginpachi-sensei closer]

now listen. u know i would rather die than post five nearly-uninterrupted minutes of a fight scene. so take that into consideration.

[louismygf]

just recently watched this is us with my college friends

[fideidefenswhore]

Despite relentless pressure to acknowledge her illegitimacy, Mary had always held out. But now, under the very real threat that her dear friends would otherwise go to the block for supporting her claim, Mary finally submitted and put her hand to the document that declared the invalidity of her parents' marriage and her own bastardy. The lives of Exeter, Carew, and their allies were saved, if only temporarily, by Mary's sacrifice, but their political influence had been shot.

Henry VIII’s Last Victim: The Life and Times of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, Jessie Childs

[elegyofthemoon]

getting jumpscared by voice actors is so funny i was just trying to watch old dgrayman scene compiles and suddenly iAN SINCLAIR?????

[sanguinewolves]

my exfather be like

[kamitv]

“God damn,” Toji groaned, head tossed back, lips wet and parted, and fingers digging into your hips, “Yeah-, fuck, ride this dick like it’s yours, doll.”

Your pussy sunk down on his thick cock, swallowing up his every inch lewdly as your jaw hang open, broken moans of his name leaving your throat.

“T-Tojii, fuck-, y-you’re too-, mmgh! T-Too big,”

His cock snaps up into you as you sink your hips down and your eyes cross, his dick was so big and thick, filling you up all too perfectly and stretching you open as you rode him.

“Y’takin’ it jus’ fine tho,” He huffs out with a lazy grin spread across his face, “So glad you walked in when you did-, fuck.”

You bit your lower lip to conceal a moan, a small whimper slipping out as you do so before you huff out a response to him, “Pervert,” You whisper.

Toji tips his head up and his eyes meet yours, sharp and pointed gaze locked onto your fucked-out features, “Hm? What was that?”

You gulp and quickly glance off to the side, feeling as he thrusts up into you again, “N-Nothing-, nngh…”

“Uhuh,” Toji tuts, his grin transcending into a cocky smile, “Call me a pervert again ‘nd see what happens.”

Heat rushes to your face as you recall how the hell you got in this position in the first place.

You didn’t intend to walk in on your roommate jerking off and you surely didn’t intend to bounce on his cock moments later but then again, your roommate is Toji Fushiguro.

How could you formulate the word no to him once help was requested of you. ‘It’ll be quick’, he said, ‘c’mon, y’know you want me anyway’, he claimed— all as he continued stroking his cock and tempting you like crazy.

You were going to say no and then apologize for walking in for the tenth time in a row but then he groaned out your name and you felt a throb in your core, you couldn't get yourself to move. His voice was so damn low and gruff with you, grunting your name as he shamelessly jerked off not too far away from you.

Your face was burning with embarrassment and you wanted to leave his room but your feet were stuck in place and your eyes had finally dropped down to his cock. It wasn’t like you’ve never seen one before but fuck was he huge.

Thick from the base up, bulging veins decorating his shaft, tip dripping in precum and what seemed to be spit, his hand which was damn there equally as big, pulling and tugging on his dick so messily that it had you in a trance. Then he’d groan and grunt, eyes boring into your still frame as if he were jerking off to you.

And he was. You didn’t realize it until he let out a pant and moaned lowly, “So fuckin’ sexy, shit.” That was when you snapped out of your frozen stupor and lifted your gaze, meeting his and swallowing hard.

His eyes were everywhere on you, from the loose shirt you had hanging off of you and down to your exposed thighs— he was drinking you in and getting off to it. Your overly attractive roommate was getting off to you.

You didn't even know what you were supposed to say at that point because he wasn’t kicking you out of his room yet and you weren’t leaving, “Toji, I-“

“Fuuuck, jus’ come over here already,” He breathed out heavily.

You didn’t hesitate for once. Normally you’re fidgety and timid around him but for the first time since he’s moved in with you, your feet were moving on their own and you were nearing the bed he was in.

Once you were there you again had no clue what it is you were supposed to do. That was, until he moved to raise two fingers and beckoned you closer.

Mounting yourself onto his bed and slowly crawling toward him, your lashes fluttered carefully, “What… What do you want me to uh… do, exactly?”

You’re definitely not a virgin but you were basically acting like one.

Toji reaches over to you, carefully, questioningly even, before his hand reaches the side of your neck, tugging your expression closer to his. Face to face with him, your breath left your throat and your gaze instantly dropped down to his lips and how close they were to yours.

His head tipped to the side and his eyes were on your lips, looking as soft as ever as he leaned in. You didn’t pull away and he stopped barely even a hair’s length away from you.

“Do you want this?” Was all he asked and your heart was jumping within your chest, a shaky nod given to him in response. Toji wasn’t satisfied with that so he scoffs, “Use your words, pretty girl.”

You swallow hard but your answer is relatively quick, “Y-Yeah, yes-“

Then his lips were pressing into yours. The kiss was rough but oddly sweet, one of your hands moving to comfort yourself as you unconsciously placed it on his muscular thigh. He groaned into your mouth before shoving his tongue in, lapping up the inside of your mouth and swallowing you up entirely.

Toji’s body was hot and it took you a second to ease into him. Kissing him already had you whining and humming desperately against his mouth but it only worsened when his hand left his cock and began to touch you.

First it was your waist and he carefully tugged you closer to him, his lips prying from yours just to whisper, “You want me?” He asked.

His question made your heart flutter and your mind felt like it was spiraling, “Mhm.”

Toji smirks as if he already knew the answer to his question prior to asking, “Then get on top of me,” He instructs.

And that’s roughly how you got into the position you’re in now— hips bucking against Toji as his heavy cock knocked around your insides, breast jumping in front of his face, and cries of his name filling the bedroom.

Even though you were on top, Toji was still very much in control. His big hands were locked onto your hips, forcing you to fuck your cunt down onto his fat cock over and over again.

He had you delirious and cockdrunk in minutes, it was almost embarrassing.

A hand would slap against your ass and your body would jump in reaction. Then there’s Toji’s voice that made your pussy squelch around his length.

“Jus’ like that, doll. Fuck me, c’mon, you can do it,” His tone was so rough but his words were oddly sweet, despite the way he guided your hips on him and thrusted up into you so meanly.

His thick tip pounded up into this one spot inside you and you were gasping and babbling his name— trying your best to keep up with the man but ultimately failing.

Then, every time you tried to turn your head away from him, he’d bring a rough hand up to your jaw and force you to look at him. “Thought’ I told you about that? Want you t’look at me while you fuck me, pretty girl. S’not that hard, is it?” He taunted.

You frown at him and suddenly his hands go to your hips. Then your body was tipping back and he was switching positions.

Your back hit the mattress before you could process what was going on and his cock thrusted deeper into you, making your jaw drop and your eyes widen.

Your legs were going up and the most you could muster was a strangled gasp, “Fuck! T-Toji-, mmgh..”

“This better for ya’?” He teased with a cocky tilt of his head, “Can y’keep your eyes on me now?" He asked while folding your body into a mean mating press, his larger frame pressing down into yours and stripping air from your lungs instantly as his cock dipped deeper in between your sopping folds.

Dragging his hips up torturously slow, he eyes down your expression as he thrusts back in-- hard and heavy. Your entire face twists up in pleasure and he watches the way your jaw drops and a sweet moan pours out of your mouth.

"Mhm, look at'cha, y'like this don't you-- gettin' folded up and stuffed?" Toji huffs.

His voice alone had you weak underneath him, wide teary eyes peering into his as you laid there with your mouth hanging open so foolishly, "Uhuh." You utter with a nod.

"Fuck, you're cute like this, roomie," He hums as he slowly tips his head to the side, "Can't talk when you're gettin' fucked can you?" A quick shake of your head is all he receives from you and it makes him grunt, "Yeah? Hah, knew you wanted me all this time. Y'should've said somethin' doll, always givin' me those looks."

Your brows pinch together and his claim throws you off, "W-What looks?" You murmur quietly.

Toji groans and the weight of his body over yours along with his cock drilling into you has your body sinking down into the mattress, "Oh don't act clueless. I've seen the way you look at me," He points out to you with a lil' smirk on his face-- god you can't stand him sometimes.

Pouting, "I-I don't-"

"No need t'lie about it now," Toji cuts off. He knows you far too well after living with you for so long, "You can be honest," His voice is a bit gentler.

And maybe it was because he'd seen you gawk at his body thousands of times that he considered himself being nice to you right now but either way-- the look on your face was making his cock twitch inside you. You'd appeared as though you'd finally been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.

Softly, you just gaze up at him, "I..."

Toji scoffs, "You..? Go onnn," He's leaning his face down closer to yours and his cock is practically splitting you open, tip digging impossibly deeper, "Spit it out."

"F-Fuck, okay-," You finally give into him, despite not putting up too much of a fight, "Hah, y-yeah, I do check you out sometimes-"

Toji's smiling already, "Sometimes?' He challenges.

As his words leave him, your legs are dangling up over his shoulder and fuck you couldn’t move one bit. "All the time,” You gasp, a cute whine exiting your throat seconds later.

"Mhm, bet you thought about this a few times, huh?" Toji continues to chastise you as if the bed he were fucking you into wasn’t starting to creak and rattle below you.

Your brows pinch together and you give him such confused doe-like eyes, "Hm?"

Toji smirks and you feel his cockhead dragging in and out inside your pussy, "Y'know, gettin' your pretty lil cunt fucked like this,” He utters vulgarly.

Your body twitches and you can feel yourself coming close, "Fuck.”

"Mmh, keep squeezin' 'round me like that,” He encourages, heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock splitting you open and leaving you dumb within’ seconds.

"Toji," You call out, unsure of why but moaning his name anyway.

He nods before glancing to your lips, "Mhm, open ya’ mouth f’me, pretty.” You begin to do just that and he smiles, “Nice ‘nd wide, yeahhhh…” Then he’s spitting right onto your tongue, fucking you rougher, and watching the way you moan because of his actions.

"Mmgh…” You swallow down the messy wad of saliva he’d just gifted you— eyes all teary as you blearily keep your eyes up on his.

The sight of you swallowing his spit makes him absolutely feral. You could see his pupils dilating and suddenly his fucking you harder and his grunts are getting huskier. His cock was so damn thick in girth, throbbing veins rubbing all against your plush walls at such a rough pace that your legs felt like pure putty within his hold.

“S’too much, fuck-," You gasp out sharply, your hands sliding down to his chest and giving Toji the slightest push.

The feel of your nails grazing his tense skin makes him let out a low groan, "Aht aht, stop that, don't start pushin' me away,” He hums to you almost sweetly. Then he’s pressing his body weight even further onto you, his leaking tip bullying your cervix with each thrust, “You can take me." Toji whispers to you.

Your head is shaking immediately and you’re just babbling to the man, "C-Can't Toji, m'gonna cum."

"Go ahead then, cum on my cock. Get it nice 'nd messy f'me,” He rasps as his eyes roll back with the way your pussy was clamping around his hard cock. "Yeahhh, there you goo,” He coos, leaning up slightly just to look at the sight of you below him all fucked out as you reach your high, “Look s'pretty creamin' on me like that, fuck."

He’s not too far behind you in the slightest. The simple sight of you still weakly trying to get him to slow down as he fucks you through your orgasm was enough to have him emptying himself inside you within seconds. Your eyes were all glossed over, lips swollen and pouty from kisses, cheeks wet with a few tears, and body fucking perfect beneath him.

Toji may have teased you earlier about the way you’ve been looking at him ever since the two of you started living together but fuck, he knows damn well this is all he’s wanted ever since he first set his eyes on you.

A/N: Had this sitting in my drafts for a while, hope you guys enjoyed <33

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO!

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3

masterlist | patreon

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

~

"Hey, neighbor."

"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.

Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.

This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.

You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.

"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.

"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.

"What, with me?"

"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."

You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.

With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.

"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"

"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.

"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.

"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.

"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.

The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.

"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.

"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.

"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.

With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.

The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.

Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.

"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.

"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.

With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?

His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.

"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.

"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.

With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.

"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.

"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.

He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.

A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.

"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."

Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.

"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!

"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.

"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.

With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.

In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.

Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.

"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.

"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."

"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.

Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.

Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.

Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.

After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.

Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.

"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.

Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.

"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.

"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.

"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.

"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.

Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.

It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.

Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.

As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.

He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."

Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.

It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.

"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.

"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.

"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.

Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.

He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.

"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.

With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.

"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.

Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.

"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.

"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.

Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.

"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.

A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.

He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.

"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.

"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.

It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.

"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.

If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.

"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.

"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"

"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.

"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"

You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.

You were right.

"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.

With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.

"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.

"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.

Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.

"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.

"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.

"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.

You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.

"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.

"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.

You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.

"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.

Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.

This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.

After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).

"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.

"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."

Fair enough.

Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).

It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.

One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.

After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.

The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.

You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.

With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.

"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.

"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.

"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.

"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.

Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.

"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.

"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."

Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.

Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.

Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.

Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.

"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.

"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.

Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.

"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.

The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.

"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.

With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.

He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.

In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.

"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.

You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.

"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.

"But-"

"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.

to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.

"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.

After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.

Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.

That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.

Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.

He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.

But what could you do? He was addictive.

"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.

"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."

He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.

"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."

"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.

...

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[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .

❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞

summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.

desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns

dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.

love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?

and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.

so how much more would it have ached for toji?

“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.

nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?

if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.

“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.

your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.

the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.

you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.

was he like that to his wife? maybe not.

does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?

you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?

you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.

a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.

taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.

when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.

“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.

“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.

“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.

“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.

“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”

“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.

“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.

toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.

he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.

this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.

maybe this isn't just about gambling.

with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.

toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.

he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.

he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.

toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.

he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.

toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.

he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.

“hey kid, where's your mama?”

toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.

“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.

“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.

“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”

“yeah? i love your mama too.”

toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.

the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.

instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.

the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.

──

it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.

“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.

“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.

“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?

“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”

is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.

“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.

“are you fushiguro?”

that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?

“no. you have the wrong person.”

“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.

“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.

“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”

…

and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.

he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.

“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.

“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.

your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.

and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.

your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.

“say something damn it!”

you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.

“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.

“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?

no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.

“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.

when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.

but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.

your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.

opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.

and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.

“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”

your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.

“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.

toji sighs. he has no excuse.

“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.

your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”

his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”

you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.

“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”

now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.

you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.

you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.

so then, why were you back here?

it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.

that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.

standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.

maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?

closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?

forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?

you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.

your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.

the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.

“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.

“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.

“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”

“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.

“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”

“wait what was that??”

“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.

“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”

your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.

“so you do know him.”

'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.

then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.

and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.

[blkkizzat]

❝ AITA FOR ACCIDENTALLY GETTING MY ANCIENT SORCERER BF HIGH? ❞

MODERN ERA TRUE!FORM SUKUNA X READER

» thread [summary]: Sukuna just ate all your edibles and is now more lit than Tokyo Tower—great. Now you have to fuck his high n' grumpy ass calm before you're the one that's actually fucked.

» upvotes [wc]: 11.9k » awards [cw]: true form sukuna, crack fic 110%, dr*g use, accidental dr*gging, slight dubcon, sub!sukuna, cunnalingus, fingering, whiny!sukuna, riding, twin-cock sukuna, nipple teasing, lots of banter, spanking, bimbo!reader, pussy smacks, frottage, premature ejaculation, creampie, breeding fantasies, rimming, cum eating, femdom, uncut/uncircumcised, high n' sassy sukuna, bondage, lots of teasing, and bits of fluff . » mod comments [a/n]: part of the 'we be burnin' JJK 420 collection (ill make a series post eventually i swear lol). I had the goal of keeping this under 12k and i made it! by 44 words. this was supposed to be a 5k fic but I got carried away because I love exploring modern day tf!sukuna x reader relationship so lots of banter and tid bits.

Enjoy!

Ok girl. Deep breaths. You got this! 

Standing in front of the large shoji door to Sukuna’s quarters, any nerve you build quickly dissipates by the time you raise your hand to knock.

SHIT-SHIT-SHIT!  

Swaying on your feet, suddenly, you don’t feel so sober anymore. Well, technically you weren’t even sober to begin with—far from it actually, you'd just started the come down from some pretty powerful edibles.

Edibles which happen to be the source of all your troubles now. 

You thought Sukuna leaving, for what you assumed would be a few days, would be the perfect opportunity for you to get completely zoinked off your ass—and that's exactly what you did.

Yet, unbeknownst to you, his plans had changed and he had returned home only after a day.

So when you finally awoke from your weed-induced power nap to discover Uraume had served Sukuna the remaining of the matcha and adzuki manju edibles you had made, you just about fell out.

Uraume had given Sukuna all three dozen of them. 

You didn’t even intend to make so many, but you accidentally doubled the recipe for weed butter and you weren’t about to let good product go to waste. Not with how tough it was to find good weed in Tokyo with it being illegal and all.

But fuck! 

You can’t recall a single time Sukuna ever enjoyed human food—more sated by human flesh instead. 

Yet from what Uruame told you he had already eaten at least five of them already.

Who knew The Curse King had such a fucking sweet tooth?!

Of course, Uraume blamed you once you explained. And true, while you did make the edibles, you certainly didn’t tell their ass to serve them to Sukuna!

Uraume scoffed at you though, claiming anything in Sukuna’s palace belonged to Sukuna—including you and whatever you happened to bake. 

The pompously dull scolds Uraume gave went in one ear and out the other as you rolled your reddened eyes. Eyes which immediately turned into a panic when Uraume demanded it be you, not them, to check up on Sukuna.   

That was the whole reason why you are even in front of Sukuna’s door right now sweating fucking buckets. 

Especially, since Uruame made the utterly insane accusation of you attempting to poison Sukuna. 

You tried to argue that Sukuna is immune to toxins—but Uraume wouldn’t listen to any of that. 

Hell, If you thought you could take Uraume in a fight, even in a more sober state, you would have literally scrapped with their ass before you agreed to check on a possibly high Sukuna. 

Who knows what kind of nefarious time The King of Curses would be on while high!?

Uraume is the one who is his attendant and also fed him the edibles!

They should be the one to go!  

But you also aren’t an idiot. You know for a fact Uraume would hand you your ass and then force you to go check on him anyway. No sense in getting unnecessarily bagged up when Sukuna himself might actually kill you.

So here you were, in front of his door dreading what might be waiting for you on the other side. 

“Woman! You are annoying me more by just standing out there, come-in or fucking leave.”

Piercing your thoughts, Sukuna’s gruff command booms through the door with enough force to make you take a few steps back.

Okay maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be so bad?

He sounded normal enough. 

No one high could still be this grumpy.

Sukuna is The King of Curses after all. 

Something as simple as a mere plant shouldn’t have any affect on him, right?

Steeling yourself, you slide open the door to his chambers. 

You make a mental note to fire your therapist, as the deep meditative breathing patterns they recommended does fuck all to temper your increasing anxiety in this situation.

Peering into the room before you enter, you see Sukuna propped on his side atop the wooden engawa patio leading to his private gardens. His nose seems to be buried in some ancient text you can't quite decipher from this distance.

Well, he looks normal enough too—from what you could tell at least.

You walk towards him but Sukuna makes no acknowledgement to greet you. 

However, if you could see his face, you would see the amused evil that pulls up at the corner of his lips. 

Sukuna can sense your uneasiness radiating off of you in waves. 

You’d not been this distressed to be in his presence in quite some time and yet you still sought him out—something you rarely did—even in a good mood. Typically, you’d only come to him when he called for you or when you wanted his cock. 

You had to want something from him—and a slut like you was never shy about asking for dick. 

Interesting.  

Sukuna knew you hated having to humble yourself to ask anything of him, so he took great pleasure in teasing you for it when necessity meant you could no longer delay your request.

Whatever you wanted, Sukuna certainly wouldn’t make it easy for you.

Where would be the fun in that?

And neither would your own body, apparently, make this situation any easier. You nearly trip over your own feet as the paranoid side effects of your high reaches full throttle.

Your eyes growing wider with each step forward.

The vision of the tea set next to him along with the plate of your manju edibles—the now almost empty plate—confirms your fears.

Only one solitary piece remained.

Nervously, you kneel near Sukuna’s feet, your back perfectly straight and your arms extended in front of you. Forcing yourself into an overly formal position to avoid fidgeting any more than you already are.

A tense silence settles between you both—well, tense for you. 

Sukuna seems perfectly content to bask in your discomfort. 

You swallow, unsure how to start.

Even if he wasn’t a malevolent ancient cursed sorcerer, telling someone they���ve been accidentally dr*gged was never going to be a pleasant conversation. 

Although, you still do your best to be covert in your inspection of him—no sense in telling him he’d been dr*gged at all if he wasn’t actually high.

Sukuna on the other hand is growing impatient with your nervous energy. 

When he finally speaks, you’re nearly jumping out of your own skin. 

“Why are your eyes so red, brat? Don’t tell me you’ve been fucking crying again? Is the time of your moon cycle upon us already?”

Did this man for real just ask you if you were on your period!?!?

Exhaling deeply out of your nose, you give him a polite, yet clipped, reply.

“Just allergies, m’lord.”

You wanted to tell him off so bad but you didn’t want to piss him off more than necessary, considering the circumstances. Besides, you were certain your eyes were red as hell right now from being high for the last three hours. So in order to control your temper, you proceed to gaslight yourself into thinking that, for someone like Sukuna, this was a logical assumption to make.

The thought stops you from cussing him out at the very least.

However, Sukuna is astute enough to know you’re lying.

Truthfully, he’d only made the comment to rile you up.  

Not only were you a horrible liar to begin with—but everything from your clenched knuckles, to the way you gnaw on your inner cheek to contain your sass, are all dead giveaways.

Those facts withstanding, Sukuna could tell by the subtle shift in the scent of your intoxicating pheromones alone if you were on your moon cycle or not. 

And it was far too late into summer for it to be allergies.

No, something is on your mind. 

Something you didn’t want to come right out and tell him. 

Not that he tended to care at all about any of your silly concerns, but seeing you had seeked him out in such a frazzled state has him curious.

What other than him could get his favorite lil’ human this upset?

Sukuna immediately loses the little remaining interest he has in his book, all of his interest now focused on you.

His evil grin widens.

“Then is ‘just allergies’ to blame for placing the notion in your dizzy little head that I wanted to be fucking bothered with your presence right now? Or are you telling me ‘allergies’ is a new modern term for sluts wanting dick?”

Son of a bi—and see this is exactly why you actively avoided him when you’re not fucking him! 

Sukuna was obnoxiously insufferable to be around when he wasn’t giving you toe-curling, heart-stopping, vision-blinding orgasms. You surely would have at least tried to escape by now if it wasn’t for that—well, that and the fact he did have a literal palace and you no longer had to have a job or worry about rent, bills and all the other shit you hated about adulting. 

You weren’t treated like a princess but you pretty much had access to everything practical you could ever want. 

Although you were still working on getting a stable internet connection up in the mountains.

Yeah, no, Sukuna wasn’t a bum by any means and you could surely do a lot worse than a mean, forever-grumpy, ancient asshole.

Sigh.

However, as far as you were concerned now, you had two ways you could play this: you could fly off the handle at his intentionally crass insults or you could pay it. 

You choose the latter, knowing he would soon grow bored of you if you just shrugged off his mockery, ignoring him. 

You just need to buy yourself a bit more time to tell for sure if he was high or not. Then you could fuck off and enjoy the remainder of your own high as you wouldn’t be getting stoned for a while now.

Thanks to him eating all your stash.

“Uhhh, no m’lord. I-I just wanted to know how you enjoyed the manju I made. I filled them with matcha and adzuki beans…It was my first time baking them.”

Oh? 

You still wanted to play games?

Sukuna’s gaze darkens at the chance to pick at you more. The more you would lie and beat around the bush the more Sukuna wanted to press your buttons. 

Never getting bored of pissing you off, angering you was his second favorite pastime. You made it too easy to wind you up like a coil until you snapped like a little twig in his grasp. 

All so he had an excuse to do his actual favorite pastime—punishing you. 

Lacking any sort of discipline, you were more of a hot head than he was at times—which was saying something. Sukuna loved to bring you to the very limits of your sanity with his taunting of you. Only so he could watch you helplessly thrash beneath him, frustrated that you could never beat nor overpower him. 

You were a curious little sorcerer who got off on edging death which was apparent from how your fiery anger quickly sparked into shameless arousal, like the massive cockslut you are. You’d be cursing Sukuna to hell before begging him to take you along for the ride.

In turn, Sukuna would bully both of your tight greedy holes, mesmerized by your filthy cunt creaming enough to soil a puddle onto any surface he happen to fuck you on. 

You had to have been a succubus in a past life. 

His sexual appetites were immense but you were nearly insatiable yourself. Fucked out and trembling, with your eyes barely open, you’d never stop pleading him for more until he’d fuck you unconscious. 

Nevertheless, in this lifetime you were a pitifully weak sorcerer in comparison to him—however you could be considered ‘special grade’ if ranked solely on your ability to take dick. 

Truly, your best quality and what has kept you alive thus far. 

At least that’s what Sukuna would tell himself when the thought of you dead leaves him feeling restless and agitated. It’s why he never lets you leave the palace grounds other than with Uraume on their occasional visits into Tokyo. 

Sukuna had deemed you too weak to be left to your own devices outside of his palace.

You were his plaything, to do with as he pleased—and right now, he wanted to make you absolutely lose your shit.

From the way your aura bristled, it was clear you just needed one final push.

And so, Sukuna pushed.

“HA! I could tell—”

On the verge of unraveling altogether, your brow twitches as you count backwards from a hundred in your mind to calm down—another bullshit coping mechanism from your soon-to-be-fired therapist.

100…99…98…

“—thought you filled those manju with horse shit.”

97…9—

Never failing to take the bait, you wouldn’t disappoint him this time either. 

Jumping up, you wobbled on your feet but that didn’t stop you from stomping your foot in indignation with enough force to make the old wooden floorboards creak.

“THEN WHY IN THE EVERLOVING FUCK DID YOUR BIG HUNGRY ASS PRACTICALLY EAT THREE DOZEN OF THEM!?” 

From the looks of it Sukuna was perfectly fucking fine—like you had figured he’d be. 

This had proven to be a complete waste of your time even checking on him. The brief encounter had done nothing but fuck up the remainder of your high since he wanted to be such an ornery bastard about everything.

Forgetting all about your plan to not piss him off, instead you flip him off, storming away. 

“LIKE THEY DON’T EVEN AFFECT YOU?! WHAT A FUCKING WA—”

Like a blur Sukuna rises as his four arms extend to ensnare you.

However lucky for you, you sense him in time to dod—wait… did you just dodge him!? 

No, that's not right he must have missed.

Huh?

HE FUCKING MISSED!?

Whipping your body around, you face him. 

Your wide confused eyes meet his own puzzled gaze, one that you notice is turning increasingly more red by the second to extend beyond just the color of his pupils. 

You don’t even have the time to appreciate how adorably ridiculous the expression is on him before the realization hits—

—OHHHH SHIT—SUKUNA IS HIGH AS FUCK!!!

He likely hadn’t moved from that spot since he so gluttonously devoured your entire tray of edibles. In turn, as is with the nature of getting high, if you are sitting or laying down while you partake, you often don’t realize exactly how baked you are until you finally stand up. 

And from the looks of it the high had just hit him like a fucking semi-truck.

Sukuna was absolutely lit.

Staggering in his stance, a look of surprise is on both of your features. You were for certain Sukuna would have fallen to the ground if not for his hand catching onto the wall beside him. 

His awkward movements are akin to someone suddenly realizing how bulky and inconvenient it was to be approaching 8-feet-tall with four massive arms.

“O-Ohhhh my god, Ohhhh my fucking god! Y-You can actually get high!?!”

Thoroughly gagged, your hands fly to cover your mouth. Always one for inappropriate reactions at awkward and improper times, you can’t suppress your snorts of laughter as the reality of him actually being high settles in. 

Sukuna on the other hand is currently fighting a losing battle with vertigo to find steady footing. His bloodshot eyes take on a more deadly appearance as his pupils glow red in fury to match. 

“W-What the fuck did you do, woman?!”

Did he just stutter too!? 

Oh shit this was too good. 

You cursed yourself for not having your phone on you, but knew better to bring a phone around Sukuna. He’d broken your phones one too many times because he wouldn’t admit he was more jealous of you paying attention to your talking clock (it was TikTok) than him.

Yet at the same time, his accusations that any of this is your fault piss you off further. 

“ME!? I’m not the one who just smashed over 3000 grams of weed! Pretty sure that much would even take down a fucking elephant!!”

In response, Sukuna growls as his cursed energy discharges off of him in erratic waves. Yet the intensity is not nearly as oppressive as you knew it could be.

The weed is clearly having an effect on him. 

“Watch how you speak to your King, brat. I won’t warn you again.”

Dripping with sarcasm you bow dramatically. 

“Oh no, how could I forget my place, Sukuna! How about you ask next time before you just gobble up all my shit? Then this wouldn’t have even happened!” 

When bickering with him, you often dropped all formalities which always got you into deeper trouble.

“S-SHUT THE FUCK UP!!”

CRACK~!

Wood splintered around Sukuna, falling to the ground in a heap. Sukuna had unintentionally misfired a cleave right through the wall next to you and effectively remodeled his chambers to extend into the next room over.

A few strands of your hair get caught in the crossfires and they float in the air beside you, along with the various debris from the wall. 

It’s becoming quite apparent that while high, Sukuna struggles to keep his immense cursed energy in-check and it fluctuates to match his temper. 

The look of shock on your face mirrors Sukuna's, who is now staring at his hand as if he had grown a sixth finger. It’s not a finger though, it's his eye from the face on his hand, bloodshot and red. That's when Sukuna notices the eyes on his face are also bloodshot, perfectly matching yours.

“ASSHOLE! What if that fucking hit me?!”

“Well, you sure as fuck wouldn’t be alive to be screeching at me right now, woman…”

You were seething. 

How is everyone still treating this like it's your fault!?

“No one told you to eat all my edibles, King Big Back!”

Sukuna growled at your insults even if he didn’t really understand them. 

He was huge—of course he had a big back…? 

Your words, which Sukuna deems nonsensical, only make him dizzier and amplified the almost out of body experience he was currently in. Clearly the fault of your so-called “edibles”, Sukuna couldn’t remember the last time he felt so out of sync with himself as he leaned against what was left of the structure.

Not since he’d first adjusted to being a cursed object in his very first host. 

“Well fuck me then, for not realizing you were brewing poison, witch.”

“Yeah fuck you, because its just a plant! A harmless little plant! Didn’t they have hemp back in your pre-historic era, you old fossil?!”

Sukuna growls at your insults, but nonetheless considers your words.

Of course they had hemp. 

Being practically native to Japan it was utilized in many trades, but this had to be a different variety of the plant. Sukuna never heard of it being consumed, as the plant had more pragmatic uses for clothing and tools. 

“For practical use, woman! Not to make potions and consume like some fuckin’ degenerate.”

Your eyes narrowed. 

Sukuna of all people calling anyone else a degenerate was rich. 

“For the last time Kuna—it's not any kind of poison or potion! You’re supposed to be immune to toxins, remember?”  

Sukuna growls once more. 

True, poisons had no effect on him. 

If what he consumed was in fact just a plant, and nothing imbued with venom nor curses, then perhaps this didn’t make the cut? 

Although Sukuna is sure the after-consumption effect has to be akin to something poisonous, since for the first time in likely what had to be a thousand years, the unfamiliar sensation of nausea crept up his throat.

Stepping back inside his chambers, he teeters unsupported on his feet before dropping down to a seated position. The uncoordinated clumsiness of his actions causes the room to shake, sending more fragments of the now-destroyed wall crumbling around the both of you.

Dare you say it, you kinda… feel bad for him?

Sure you were still pissed at him, and in no way were you about to accept responsibility for this…but in this state he looked sort of, well, pathetic. 

You didn’t think you’d ever be using that word to describe Sukuna, who’d time and again proved to be more fearsome than the beasts of nightmares. 

Yet at the moment he was definitely giving off more sad Hello Kitty vibes, rather than a monstrous primordial tiger. All four eyes on his face were dilated to comical proportions and the tired scowl he wore was more akin to a toddler’s pout.

It was… cute?

Upon further appraisal, as he sits with arms and legs crossed like a child after a tantrum, you decide he definitely looks cute.

And dare you say even—baby girl?

Not like you could ever tell him that though. 

You’re sure if you called him that, no matter how weak and uncoordinated he was now, Sukuna would somehow muster the willpower to wring your head right off your pretty little neck. 

Regardless, having Sukuna be so weakened, even temporarily, was unsettling to say the very least. 

“I-I really didn’t think you would eat them, Kuna. You don’t even like human food!”

Your voice takes on a more apologetic tone as you begin to inch over to him. 

Dropping down on all fours, you cautiously crawl closer bit by bit in a similar fashion as to how one would a wounded beast you were scared might lash out—even if you were only trying to help it.

“I don’t ever fucking recall saying that, brat.”

Sukuna hisses but the fatigue was clear in his tone.  The bite in his words hardly evoked the blood-curdling fear he was so easily capable of under normal circumstances.

Sukuna closes his eyes in exasperation, which consequently has you rolling yours. 

Bulllllllshit!

Every single thing that man tried, he hated!

Well, every single modern thing. 

Oh fuck, they had manju back then too, huh?

Stopping once you are directly in front of him, you peer up at him with big doe eyes, sweet and apologetic.

But Sukuna isn’t falling for it—or he didn’t want to at least. 

Cracking open an eye at you before closing it again, Sukuna turns away from you, nose upturned. 

Urgh, what a big diva! 

You almost want the normal, insanely irritating, Sukuna back instead of the blitzed sassy creature before you—almost.

“Listen Kuna, you did eat a whole shit load... More than any grown ass man I’ve ever seen to be honest…”

You shook your head and mumbled the last part under your breath, ignoring his sassy gripes, as he definitely still heard you.

“Ok, so I have literally zero clue as to how long your high will last… but I mean hmm… why don’t you try RCT?”

Sukuna stares daggers at your sheepish expression. 

You had to be an idiot.

If Sukuna could focus his cursed energy enough for RCT he would have fucking done it already! Not to mention, take his sweet time in punishing you too. However, all that would have to wait until the disorienting effect wore off enough to make that possible.

For now though, Sukuna just wants to be alone.

This 'weed' was having strange effects on him, he is growing inexplicably nervous to be in your presence for some ridiculous reason.

“Leave.”

“Nope.”

All four of Sukuna’s eyes flare and stare you down the best they can through his red-eye squints.

“I gave you an order, brat. I won't ask again.”

Sukuna tried his best to deliver his threats in the bone-chilling tone he was so well known for, but it falls flat, yet again, thanks to him being higher than a pair of perky tits. 

His frown, and thereby his pout, intensifies at his current ineffectiveness.

“I can’t just leave you though, Kuna…”

Thinking him docile enough, you slowly crawl into his lap and thread your arms between the two sets of his own, gazing up adoringly at him. Sukuna allows you to do so without fuss, although he doesn’t return your embrace nor does he look at you. 

His own head swirls too much—especially with how his skin begins to tingle just from the sensation of your warm body pressing against his. 

“You need me! What if we were to get attacked by jujutsu sorcerers right now? I’d have to protect you!”

You don’t even try to suppress your giggles this time when your body is shaken by the disgruntled rumbles from his chest.

“Tch—with the few measly crumbs of cursed energy you do possess, you can’t even protect your own fucking self—”

“Hey!”

“—so if that happens, then were both royally fucked.”

Okay, so you weren’t anything close to a super strong special grade sorcerer. But you think you’d be somewhere around grade 1 now, so you could hold your own against most!

At least enough for you both to escape! 

You’d only really be in trouble if that sexy white-haired blue-eyed sorcerer, Gojo Satoru, showed up. Although from the way he winked at you the last time you saw him, saying ‘you’d be prettier as a Jujutsu High teacher instead of one of Sukuna’s lackeys’, you’re pretty sure if you flirted hard enough you’d be okay at least.

Still, you actually liked living with Sukuna a lot more than you cared to admit. Moreover, ‘Jujutsu High teacher’ would qualify as you having to work an actual job—yeah nah, fuck that. 

You’d stay with your ancient asshole, thank you very much.

Bringing your attention back to Sukuna, who had since closed his eyes to keep the room from spinning, you poked a finger into his cheek.

Sukuna ignores you, but you persist.

Your little finger presses deeper and deeper until a mouth forms on his skin to snap at you, causing you to snatch your hand back before you lose said finger. 

“Worry about protecting yourself, brat! You’re aware when this wears off, I’m going to fucking rip you apart and feed you to the mouth on my stomach limb by limb.”

Unphased, you flirtatiously bat your lush lashes as one of your hands slipped through his robes to caress the spot where his mouth forms. 

“Awe Kuna, if you have the munchies that badly and want me to ride your stomach again—all you have to do is ask. I’ll let you eat me right up.”

His abs clenched ever so slightly from your touch.

“Urgh, woman, you should go enjoy the last hours of your life while you still can…”

His threat dissolves into grumbles, still making no attempt to push you off.

Well, if you were in fact about to go to glory as soon as Sukuna could control his powers again—you might as well enjoy yourself while you still can.

“Yeah, yeah, Kuna—but until that happens just relax, okay?  Let’s have some fun, eh? That’s the whole point of being high in the first place!”

Sukuna rolls his eyes but allows you to push him back to the floor. His body feels so heavy and laying down was so much more agreeable than sitting up in his condition.

Still, he couldn’t see how this out-of-body-like experience could be fun. 

Fun for Sukuna was killing. 

Sukuna enjoyed most of his thrills relishing in the screams of his victims as he bathed in their blood which poured so liberally through his deadly claws. 

He even has a pool of blood for god sake!

Well had—until you nagged him pretty much to death, complaining that you couldn’t be expected to bathe in the garden koi pond. As a result, Sukuna had Uraume restore the hotspring to its original state —if only to get you to shut the fuck up.

Hn, now that he considers it, you are way too much fucking trouble than your crazy-ass, tight-ass, lil’ cunt was worth—his current predicament being the ultimate testament to that.

“This isn’t fun.”

It’s your turn to smirk as you straddle him.

“It will be!”

For me at least. 

You don’t say that last part out loud though.

You’re smiling down at Sukuna playfully, pulling your tank top from overhead to reveal your simple pink cotton bra with little flowers printed on them.

Sukuna, who had since draped an arm over his face, regards you skeptically from under his muscular limb with his lower set of eyes.

“And just what do you think you’re doing now, brat?”

“What does it look like asshole? I’m gonna fuck you.”

“And if I tell your bratty ass to fuck off and die?”

“Well, for one—it’s not like you can stop me. And two—when has me saying ‘no’ ever stopped you?”

You stare down at him sweetly.

“Slut.” 

Sukuna snarls, turning his head in a huff once again.

Checkmate.

This was the ultimate win as far as you’re concerned. 

Sukuna had his way with you entirely when you fucked. He was always in control—of everything. Not that the slutty masochist in you ever minded, but you wanted a turn to be the dominant one for once and control his pleasure.

Hell, if you knew marijuana would have this much of an effect on him you would have given him some sooner! 

Besides, you could tell by the way his robes rose on the lower half of his body he was already feeling its euphoric effects. 

Yet you had no idea just how much. 

Sukuna’s already inhuman perception intensifies the experience a hundredfold. His limbs are heavy, as if the floor might give way, libel to sink into the very earth at any moment.

Staring out into the garden, he could see everything in vividly intense hypervision through his dilated orbs.

Every rustle of the leaves, every movement of even the smallest creatures, and every particle in the air took on a lustrous sheen. All his senses were in overdrive, creating a strange euphoria vibrating through his body, suspending him in time—that is until your honeyed voice snapped him out of it.

“Hi~ Look at me, Kuna~~”

Soft hands cup his large face, bringing his sights back to you. Sukuna emits a disapproving grunt, or at least he thinks he does.

He’s not entirely sure. 

With his attention now focused on you, everything else in the world seems to still.

The anxious throbs in his chest seem to prolong each beat, as if his heart might stop altogether. Sukuna concludes that these palpitations and irregular rhythms must be a side effect of the plant.

Has to be.

It certainly wasn’t the way the light of golden hour shimmered on your skin so radiantly, like an otherworldly ethereal creature only seen at dusk—making him feel like he was the inferior mortal in your presence. 

“Don’t float away on me…”

Your voice, filled with angelic mirth, tickles his ears while your fingers gently card through his hair.

Sukuna bites his tongue, drawing out thick, viscous red liquid to suppress the needy purrs bubbling in his throat from your doting caresses.

How could he be the one to float away when you had the appearance of one who had descended from the sky? 

Sukuna's lower set of hands unconsciously brace your thighs like a vice, as if to anchor you and prevent you from levitating away from him.

Goddamn, if not some potion, you had to have cast some twisted spell. 

Everything about you right now was enthralling to him.

Has your skin always been this silky?

Sukuna succeeds in remaining quiet, yet fails in keeping his lower half controlled, involuntarily bucking his hips. His eagerness apparent, you rub your clothed mound over his twin cocks that stiffen beneath you.

Your hands skillfully loosen the knots in his obi to uncover his firm abs and ritualistic tattoos already covered in a sheen layer of perspiration.

Sukuna’s breath hitches when your fingernails graze over his sensitive exposed nipples. 

“Watch it, brat.”

But he sounds so far away now, you don’t really pay him any mind.

You are lost in enjoying some of the far less intense, but still lingering, effects of your own high. 

Humming a saccharine tune, your head tilts back as you relish the pleasurable strain in your inner thighs just from having them span over his broad pelvis. The melody serves as an accompaniment to the steady rhythm of your hips, unraveling him more by the second.

When your eyes do open again, you observe the strain evident across Sukuna’s sharp features. 

You simper, wondering how long Sukuna could hold on before he fell apart completely underneath you?  

Picking up tips from the royal headache himself on how to press buttons, you taunt Sukuna with your coos.

“Are ya still mad at me, Daddy?”

You’re pouting but your mischief is evident, twinkling brightly behind your eyes.

Sukuna’s own eyes narrowed at your boldness. 

You just loved calling him ‘Daddy’ like the filthy whore you are—lacking in any sort of couth.

This whole situation was infuriating for him. 

And as such, Sukuna wants to be mad at you—to teach you a lesson, to have you meet your death at his own powerful hands—but alas—his own body betrays him. 

Your still sparkling aura exacerbates his intoxicated frustrations along with his more carnal desires as euphoria rushes through him. 

His nostrils flare when the candied perfume of your sinful little cunt—already soaked untouched—saturates the air.

Fucking hell—he could practically taste you on his tongue.

“Just get on with it then, if you think you can, woman—”

Giving your rear a firm smack, Sukuna hurries you along.

“—although, I’m sure your weakling ass will give up and be begging me to fuck you within the first minute.”

You roll your eyes. 

Even in spite of his breath laboring slightly, along with minor twitching spasms of his thighs underneath you—he’s still acting tough.

“Hmm, we’ll see about that. Won’t we, Daddy?”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you hop up to kick off your slippers. You take your time in removing your shorts though, hands sensually sliding them down, giving him a little show. 

All four of his eyes follow the provocative sway of your hips intently, just the same as the one time you showed Sukuna what a lap dance was. 

Of course he’d enjoyed it. 

However, where’d you fucked up was mentioning how your previous lovers had enjoyed it too—because your twerking had lasted all of 20 seconds. Sukuna had then pinned you down, growling as he called you all manners of vulgar slut-whore. The result was you limping for the next 2 days, fuck harder than he ever had previously, angered by the thought of you ever having done that for anyone else.

However, as much as you wanted to take your time torturing him for once, you were too selfish to deny yourself. The thought of you having control when fucking him has you dripping. 

Settling back on top of him, you’re on all fours facing towards his cocks. Giving Sukuna a prime view of your pussy in those cheeky pieces of fabric you called undergarments.

This wasn’t a typical view for Sukuna, who was used to looking down at you when you sucked him off from a kneeling position—so he could see exactly how those fat tears would well in your eyes as he ruined your throat when he forced your head even further down.

But this view wasn’t so bad. The growing wet spot on your panties confirms his nose had been accurate. However, you do look every bit of the fiendish whore that you are, getting so wet for him when he hadn’t even touched you.

You’re in your own world though and you audibly gasp upon peeling back the lower half of his robes. Taken aback by the thick globs of pre that gather at the very tip of his engorged cockheads. His essence pools in the folds of his foreskin until no more fluid could be contained, overflowing down his uncut length. 

You’d never seen him this leaky before.

Your pillowy lips experimentally blow cool air across both tips and Sukuna hisses as his cocks twitch in your hands. Wasting no time, your tongue deviantly flattens as you lick up the trail of dribble that ran down his upper shaft. 

His lower cock was hardly forgotten as your thumb completely uncovers the hidden tip. The well of pre spilling from him allows you to more easily pump his slightly girthier length in circular motions while you continue to salaciously suckle the other.

Sukuna unwillingly rewards you with an audible grunt of pleasure.

“Hnng—Y-You’re a fuckin’ cocktease! S-Suck me right, whore!”

You giggle at his faltering voice and Sukuna smacks your ass in response. His heavy hand still stings your skin even in his weakened state, making you all the wetter. 

For each kitten lick, a slap to one of your plump cheeks rings through his chamber. 

Sukuna is captivated by the way your flesh molds to his touch. He kneads each of your cheeks in his giant hands, leaving them warm and tingling. 

The abuse to your rear goes straight to your pussy. You forget for a second that it's Sukuna, and not yourself, who is supposed to be the subservient one in this situation.

“Hurry up, brat! You seriously think a half-assed job like that is enough for me to cum?”

In response to his provocations, your warm breath salivates over his swollen glands before entirely engulfing his upper cock.

Pulling off of him with a pop you alternate taking the other one into your mouth. Sukuna flinches as you swirl your tongue around his lengths. Vacuuming your lips, you alternate between the two twin cocks.

Sukuna grits his teeth. 

He had taught you to take him completely, although he always forced your throat open. He was genuinely surprised that you could do it on your own, which, to be honest, you probably couldn't have done without the weed relaxing the muscles in your neck and throat.

That’s when you hear it—the tiniest of whines—but a whine nonetheless.

“HA! See!—Kunaaaa, did you actually—”

If you could have seen his face you would have giggled at the pink that lightly dusted his features. Regardless, Sukuna isn’t one to take being bested lightly. 

Sukuna hooks a finger through the crotch of your panties, yanking up roughly. From this angle, the effect only puts tension on your pussy—tugging your panties taunt and compressing your clit. You keen loudly as you release his cocks, no longer able to focus on getting him off.

“FUUHHHHCK!”

One hand keeps your panties pulled taut, another hovers over the most heat of your core, lazily rubbing over your covered entrance. Your ever increasing wet spot has him in a trance like state as it spreads to take over your entire crotch area, dampening his fingers.

RIIIIIIIP!

Sukuna tears your underwear clean off, shredding them, 

Damn. Those were one of your favorite pairs of lounging panties too! 

You're ready to tell him off but you never get the chance as two large fingers bully their way into your pussy, leaving you sobbing.

Even over the vulgar sloshing of your sloppy hole, you can audibly hear a rough moan from Sukuna as your core constricts around his burly fingers. Your hands and knees tremble violently as you struggle to maintain your balance.

Sukuna’s tactile sensations at its peak, he is in awe of how well your gummy walls suck his thick digits in further. The velvety ridges of your cunt was like an incubator of fiery heat—a heat that may even rival that of his own divine flame technique.

“W-Waiiiiiiit—N-No fair, K-Kuna!”

Of course, your pleading slurs go unheeded. 

Like a mortal who had dipped his hand into a heavenly jar of warm ambrosia, the allure of your cunt in his intoxicated state is bewitching to say the very least. Sukuna’s hyperfixation is focused on a single-minded mission to dig out more and more milky nectar from your convulsing lil’ hole.

Your searing walls clench down when a sharp nail grazes your g-spot. Crying out, your eyes sink back into your head and your slick pours down the length of his muscular forearm.

Sukuna enjoys making a mess of you. 

Your fluids splash across his broad chest, arms and a bit even reaches his face—mouth forming on his cheek to greedily lick up your remains.

Even with limited control over his own faculties, Sukuna was still able to turn you into a quivering mess.

Dammit! You were supposed to be the one in control! 

You can only weakly grasp at his cocks as the motions of his fingers switch from languid exploratory strokes to fast pumps, adding a third finger and pressing a thumb into the rim of your puckered hole.

Stirring up your insides, Sukuna, to be frank, isn’t doing it for your reactions but for your pussy’s. 

Mind clouded, Sukuna fully dissociates once again in his enchantment of you, he doesn’t even realize you aren’t sucking him off any longer. He is much too distracted by every response your gooey cunt gifts him.

If anyone had asked him, in his utterly toked state, Sukuna would have sworn your cunt was actually squelching out full sentences. Sukuna, of course —fully fluent in ‘Cuntanese’—understands her with sparkling clarity.

She wanted more, to cum even harder. 

She’s so fucking warm, so creamy, so lewd—all for him.

Becoming more sloppy and unaware in his actions, Sukuna’s growling increases. His current frustrations centered on needing to see more of your creamy slick spurt out of you. 

Somehow all four of his hands are covered in your essence now. The hands with fingers not inside your pussy or rimming your ass, spread your cheeks wider, holding them up as the remaining one pinches your clit crudely. 

Helplessly, ass up, you lay your head down on one of his upper thighs. You drag your nails alongside his hips hoping to disrupt his daze, but on the contrary, it does nothing but spur on Sukuna’s mania further. 

The both of you being high made the situation that much worse. 

Sukuna’s fingers drive you towards oblivion, crashing into ecstasy. The edges of your vision smoldered, blurring your sight. You aren’t sure if the sun had finally set and the stars you saw were in the sky or behind your own lids, momentarily disassociating from pure pleasure. 

With a scream, you cum for the second time, your eyes locked behind your skull and your legs spasming as waves of pleasure make your hips twitch uncontrollably.

Holy fuck!!! You’d never cum that hard while high before! 

Sukuna finally snaps out of his enthralled reverie, only to discover you’ve been reduced to a mere puddle on his torso. Your holes are agape and swollen from his brutality, glistening with fluids that hadn’t stopped dripping onto him yet.

You practically see his smug grin, a fang poking out from his lips, just from his smarmy tone.

“Heh—giving up that easy just from a couple fingers in your cunny, brat? Thought you were gonna fuck me?”

You whine. Even if his own voice sounded a bit strained it was nothing compared to your own condition. Yet despite your rubbery limbs, you muster the strength to push your jellied body up—determined to have your way with him. 

Sukuna chuckles at your persistence.

The mouth on his stomach opens to lap away at the remains of your squirt on his torso and your slick-coated thighs. The thick slimy tongue has you jolting forward with a rippling moan when it flicks over your sensitive clit.

“Heh, woman, you look like shit.”

HA! How are you going to fuck him when you could barely be touched without shaking? 

Sukuna guess you’ll be tapping out before the first round is over, tch—of course you’d need him to take over. 

Testing his condition, Sukuna raises his head only to be immediately slammed with vertigo rushing psychedelic colors behind his eyes. He curses lowly to himself, still pissed the plant is having this much of an effect on him.

Sukuna makes a promise to himself that he will in fact kill you, iif you leave him blue balled because of this. The high causes his cocks to ache more than ever.

“Tch—If you’re going to do it, then do it. Fuck me then, ya nasty lil’ slut.”

Sukuna was right, you are a slut.

Fucked out by his fingers or not, your still aching pussy wouldn’t be satisfied until she was stuffed full of him.

But it would still be on your terms.

Sukuna looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to move and feigning boredom. 

However, his mood turns to annoyance though when he notices you only plan to take his bottom cock, he didn’t work that ass of yous ass open for nothing. 

“BRAT—”

“—SHUT IT and let me concentrate if you wanna get your nut!”

You do quiet him though, once you manage to squeeze his thick cockhead into your cunt. Pussy clenching around his tip like a vacuum suction, you hear Sukuna slurp a thick wad of spit through his teeth as he grinds down on them. 

It was cute, him trying not to react to you, That serves as enough encouragement to keep you from mentally succumbing to the monstrous girth entering you—for now at least.

Easing yourself lower on his fat girth, you’re panting, tongue out and hips quivering just from getting the head of him inside.

You’d learned to take him well enough, but that was when he was the one bullying himself into you. Having to mount him yourself was daunting to say the least. Only halfway in and your guts are shifting while moisture burns the corners of your eyes.

This was the exact reason you chose not to take in both his cocks. 

You would struggle enough with just one of them. 

His cock inside you, already pressed against your cervix, he is almost 3/4ths in and you have no idea how you will manage the rest. Suddenly wondering if Sukuna uses some kind of curse technique to fit all of him inside you without skewing your organs.

“Shiiiiit, f-fuckin’ dummy thick monster c-cock, this b-big for no f-fuckin’ reason…”

You mumble to yourself, clearly floundering.

Sukuna smirks at your labored efforts but his mask cracks as you finally surrender to gravity and bottom out on him—the resulting cry from him is somewhere between a growl and a whine. 

That was the end of resistance for Sukuna. 

His ultra-sensitive cock twitching in the sweltering embrace of your gummy walls, convinced his dick might melt off then and there—the heat, he decided, was most definitely hotter than his divine flames.

Once nside you, Sukuna returns his bruising grip to your hips. His trembling fingers betray the fact he still doesn’t have the capacity to regain control anytime soon. 

Exhaling your own shaky breath, legs under you, you lean back. One of your arms reaching back to plant on his muscular thigh, the other pressing his unattended shaft into the soft curves of your belly, adjusting yourself so its base brushes up against your clit. 

Your warmth welcomes his unsheathed cock like a soft pillow and he’s biting his lips again, blood trickling down his chin.

Although he’s still leaking more than enough pre for lubricant, you still dip your head forward momentarily to drop a large wad of dribble on the cock nestled against your curves. 

Your perverse acts are the cherry on top for Sukuna, who keens out a moan so loud, so needy and pathetic, it has your own toes curling. Fueling you to milk more from him as you bring down your hips harder, morphing The Curse King to goop beneath you.

Your own whimpers are just as obscene from the sight of his length extending past your belly button. It was surreal to see a distinct outer visual of just how deep his inner cock is inside you, you could feel them press together through your skin.

God, he was nearly in your ribs.

“S-Shiiiiiiit—M-MOVE! Ya f-fuckin’ dumbass brat!”

Sukuna yells at you, speech slurring, as his nails prick into your skin slightly. 

You chose not to sass him this time though, too needy for it as well. 

Establishing a rhythm, if you had the capacity to imagine anything beyond how his cock was spearing you open between your thighs—you might have mused that any curses in his palace—Uraume especially, must be absolutely terrified at what has their fearsome master is sobbing so wretchedly.

You’re thrilled at the idea of having transformed the most powerful cursed sorcerer into the crumbling virgin-like man beneath you. 

You feel your body tremble as his swollen member throbs intensely inside you, causing you to sense the rhythmic pulsation of his heart resonating deeply within your being. Sukuna's face, usually composed, now displays an unexpectedly stressed expression, which only adds to his adorableness.

Yet, your own eyes were crossing so bad you couldn’t even enjoy your victory like you want. 

Desperately moaning, you’re lifting yourself up and down, riding him in earnest as you fuck yourself dumb on his huge girth. Just one of Sukuna’s cocks were so intoxicating and you realized, the privilege of actually having him fuck you instead of you doing the work.

In order to guarantee both of your pleasures. 

But you are hardly giving up—slippery fluids create delicious friction as his top cock also slides over your swollen clit.  Your tits bounce lively every time your tight soggy pussy devours his cock back down to the base. The sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room, only overshadowed by Sukuna's unusual cries of pleasure. 

Your inner thighs ache from exertion but you are in the zone now. You’ve willingly become your own torturer as you impale yourself on him. 

Mind floating away as you treat his cock thrusted against your belly like a fidget toy. Your nails mindlessly rim the edges of his foreskin before grasping the tip of his cockhead, sliding the last bit of skin down to fully expose his angry bulbous tip. You squeeze him tightly while your other hand comes from behind you to pump the base. 

While Sukuna’s lower hands still desperately hang on to your hips, he's since thrown one of his upper hands over his face much to his chagrin. The other, claws fully extended, proceeds to tear up the tatami matting of his floor. 

Sukuna’s pitchy whimpers and badly suppressed whines have you so hot you forget yourself once again. Chasing your own pleasure, you pump his upper cock like slippery reigns as you ride him. 

And that is exactly what breaks him. 

Peeking out from under his forearm, Sukuna observes how your head is like a bobble, lulling with your movements as your slackened jaw so dumbly seeps drool down your body. All thought leaving your silly little head, babbling nonsensical coos and praises for his big cock ruining you.

Despite not being in control, Sukuna still feels a strange wave of warmth spread in his chest from watching you fuck yourself completely fucking stupid on him. The feeling instantly has his balls tightening, resulting in his upper cock twitching so violently that it even catches your fucked out attention. 

You glance down just as his engorged length finally relieves itself, spurting out a geyser of cum all over you.

Sukuna releases a moan that is husky, deep and guttural—quite literally guttural—as he had just moaned from the mouth on his stomach. His upper cock is still spraying a hefty load of cum that covers your stomach, thighs and some even shooting up to hit you right below your eye. 

Your eyes widen.

“Did you just moan from your tummy!?”

You’re hardly in the position to tease him though, disheveled and covered in his sticky essence.

You were quite the mess in your own right—heh, but you still weren’t the first to cum! 

Sukuna glares at you, panting through his scowl with watery eyes.

Leaning forward, you continue to taunt him, keeping your hand firmly around his now flaccid member. Sukuna flinches and hisses, attempting to swat your hands away, but he finds himself even more weakened than before, unable to pry you away.

“Hmm, are you trying to tell me you prefer my hands over my pussy?l Or are you just this much of a slut for getting your nasty foreskin played with, Daddy?”

His lower cock pulses at your words, still painfully hard inside you, reminding you of your own needs. You don’t wait for Sukuna’s response before you’re back bouncing on him with increased fervor, pulling at your neglected tits and still giving him shit.

“C’mon Daddy, talk to me. You love it when your lil’ slut rides you while she’s all sticky, covered in your cum, yeah?”

For emphasis your fingers swirl shapes into the streaks of spunk on your belly, sloppily writing out the Kanji for “Sukuna” over your womb.

Sukuna’s face beet red from the anger and shame of having been reduced to a mere plaything for you.

Writing his name on you with his cum!? Fuckin’ debased, foul, nasty wh—

“Oh my, you’re backed up, Daddy. I can feel you twitching—a-ah!”

You snap him out of the turmoil of his thoughts with the lazy lust-filled evil saturated in your voice as you moan out more torturous, mind melting words for Sukuna.

“Y-ou’re gonna have to tell me before you cum, Kuna, kay? You spray this much inside me, with this thick monstrous cock of yours—you’ll get me pregnant, ya know. You wouldn’t want that—or do you?”

Your fingers play in his essence on your belly once more, circling the Kanji cum scribbles of his name branded on your skin. 

“Bet ya wanna fill my tight lil’ pussy to the brim—force me to carry your lil’ curse-spawn-terrors—make you a real daddy, Daddy. You’d like that, huh?”

Sukuna’s sweat slicked hands struggle to hold onto you, throwing his head back so he doesn’t have to look at you. 

He can’t keep you in his sights as he can’t stop the vision of you, being completely made his—belly full of his growing seed and tits full of milk—from invading his mind. 

Dizzy, Sukuna can only think with his cock as you ride him towards nirvana. He’s almost at his greatly diminished limit again, his stamina now a joke of his usual.  

Chasing your own high, you rub at your clit vigorously while you grind yourself against him. Your pussy spasming around his length that stretches you so well. Body wrecking itself with pleasure, your cries grow louder and more desperate.

So close. You’re so close. So clo—

But Sukuna is first yet again—crooning out a choked roar as he cums again, this time inside you.

With no warning....asshole.

Nevertheless, the satisfying warmth of his seed bursting against your cervix has you moaning from the overwhelmingly full feeling in your guts. Creampie frothing out of you, gathering at the base of his cock. 

You were low key surprised that you were able to goad him into doing it at all. You weren’t seriously trying to get pregnant—just tease him a bit. You didn’t know he’d be this into breeding fantasies, as even though you are on birth control Sukuna for damn sure didn't trust any human pill to stop his cursed seed, always pulling out.

“W-Woah, this makes it, what? The second time you’ve cum before me—and inside me now too!”

The streaks on Sukuna’s furious cheeks leave behind evidence of the few tears you’d managed to fuck out of him.

“Aweee Kuna, should I call ‘Baby’ now? Only babies cry and cream before Mommy does.” 

Sukuna chest heaves, staring death at you as he gives you the finger—one of the few modern gestures he’d picked up. 

You laugh, although your body winces as you slide his thick softening member out of you. 

Globs of your shared fluids drip out of you and onto his torso when you finally will yourself to stand-up over Sukuna, smugness radiating in your whole demeanor.

Desiring to remove that smug expression from your face, as well as your head, he cannot recall a time when he was defeated to such an extent since he was last imprisoned and his fingers were scattered.

Teetering on your cramping legs, you delight in your victory nonetheless. Taking your time in soaking up the image of him, grumpy, soiled, and flaccid, imprinting it in your mind to throw it in his face the next time he decides to get sassy with you.

You know he’s likely going to kill you for what you were about to do, but you’d never get a chance to do something like this again. 

Besides, he surely has weed dick now given his still flaccid cocks and you still need to come!

Sauntering to stand by his head, your soft foot presses down on his clavicle, prompting Sukuna to bare his teeth while a clawed hand comes to wrap around your ankle.

“Heel, Kuna. You still have to make me cum.”

“I don’t have to do fucking shit but make good on my promise to rip you apart once this bullshit wears off.”

You pay him no mind as your foot shifts to raise his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze while your fingers swiftly glide up your inner thighs to spread your pussy lips. His cum still trickling out from the creamy plug that is visibly filling your center. 

“Eat it.”

Sukuna looks at you skeptically, like you just lost the little remaining sanity your crazy ass had in the first place.

Who the fuck did you think you were?

To one—have him take a command from you, and two—actually think he’d let you dominate him in such a way.

Sukuna scoffs.

“Sit on my stomach and I might let you cum, brat.”

“Nuh-uh, Kuna—I wanna ride your actual face. It’s the least you can do after you came before me twice!”

Trying not to visibly wince, Sukuna was so over your nagging and constant reminders of how weak he was while high, trying to tune you out. 

“...and then inside me without warning—like you don’t give a fuck if I happen to get pregnant!”

“I don't, get pregnant.”

“I—wait…WHAT?!”

You must have heard wrong. 

Sukuna would want a lobotomy before a kid. 

He always pulled out. 

He just did not tell you to get pregnant.

No way!

Sukuna growls, he’s admittedly getting tired, but it's clear you wouldn’t give him any rest until you came once more. Well, at least with a mouth full of pussy he couldn’t say anymore wildly embarrassing shit he didn’t mean.

He really didn’t want kids, but picturing you pregnant made his dicks so unfathomably hard in the moment, it was confusing, not to mention infuriating. However, the last damned thing Sukuna wanted to do was talk about his slip up.

Left with no choice but to eat you out nasty enough for you to forget all about it.

“I SAID—If you don’t want to get pregnant, then park that ass of yours on my face, bitch.”

You bristle at Sukuna calling you a bitch, yet you let it pass once all four of his arms yank you down to sit you directly on his face, his tongue plunging straight into your gooey cunt.

And true to his skills, the conversation was the last thing on your mind, having been scrubbed of all thoughts once you felt his hot mouth consuming your sensitive flesh. 

Sukuna's tongue traces torturous circles on your clit, before grazing it with sharp canine, prompting your hands to delve into his unruly locks. The grunts that escape Sukuna's lips as you tug on his hair intensify the pleasurable tingling in your pussy, compelling you to pull even harder.

To your delight, what his primary tongue lacks in girth compared to the one on his stomach, it makes up for in dexterity. Sukuna laps, swirls and twists through your folds. His tongue darts in and out of your wet slit so vulgarly leaking his cum, sending tremors up your spine.

Choking on your whimpers, your hips can’t stop shaking and Sukuna has to brace your thighs down to keep you in place. Sukuna wasn’t about to let you run from it now, not after all the shit you put him through.

You begged to cum in his mouth—so you are going to cum in his fucking mouth.

You cry out when a hand reaches up to manhandle your chest, pinching at your nipples and rolling them between his gruff fingers.  The pair of hands on your thighs move to your ass, gripping your flesh overflowing in his grasp.

Gasping, your mouth falls open, when his fingers massage your ass, spreading it open as he tilts you back to spit into your hole. Replacing his own mouth with one on his hand as he returns his attention back to your savory lil’ cunt.

Shiiiiiit!

Feels so good, you’re so close to cumming again. Your body trembles, the fire inside you spreading from your core to your fingertips as your face contorted in pleasure.

“Su-S-Sukuna, pleeeaseee, Daddy.”

You’re not even sure what you are asking for at this point, you just want more of it. 

More of everything.

Sukuna, obliges you. 

Losing himself in your lust, his panting becomes more wet and ragged. He’s painfully aroused once again, this time simply from listening to your whiney pleas. Sukuna’s tongue digs into your cunt deeper, scooping out his own cum and devouring it along with the continuous flow of your own fluids gushing out of you.

Your taste is much sweeter, cutting the unpleasant taste of his own salty spunk, so Sukuna relentlessly sucks more out of you. 

Sukuna is so caught up in giving you pleasure, he’s completely unaware of the fact he’s now humping the air, cocks flinging pre on his abs as they sway against the imaginary friction.

“K-Kuna, I’mma—shiiiiit—cum!”

You clench a fist full of his hair, nails digging into his scalp. You continuously buck your hips forward, your clit brushing agonizingly up against his nose. Quivering, glorious waves of pleasure wash over you, Sukuna knows all your pleasure spots as he easily takes you to the very heights of your ecstasy.

Sputtering moans nonsensically, you nearly slip off Sukuna completely when you tilt back too far. You unintentionally end up choking him as you catch yourself by grasping onto his neck for support.

Sukuna, caught off guard, gags. The intense vibrations from him choking on your pussy as he heaves for air tips you right over the edge. Your world washes white as you cum, thighs and hips and convulsing. 

Outlasting you this time by a hair, Sukuna cums hard, his milky fluids jetting out from his cocks to spill onto his stomach—shooting up as far as to land on your back.

Dazed from your orgasm you don’t actually realize he'd cum again until you actually slip on the mess he’s made when you begin to climb off his face.

“D’aww, Baby done messed himself bad this time, huh?”

“Perish.”

Weariness seeps through his tone, betraying the fatigue that weighed on him after cumming even harder than the previous two times.

Silence fills the space as neither of you noticed before how the sun had long since set. The soft moonbeams were the only source of light in his chambers, illuminating the space more than usual, due to the now destroyed wall.

Your bones feel like mush but you still manage to grab Sukuna’s discarded robe, using it to somewhat wipe off your bodies. 

Sukuna doesn’t register how intensely he’s staring at you, having dissociated once more. 

His arrogance is replaced by a strange look of infatuation—well strange for him.

Sukuna is lost again, charmed by your shining aura in the lunar light. The very essence of your soul glows iridescently to him, even in darkness.

He muses there’s not a being, human nor curse, as captivating as y—TCH, THE FUCK?!

Whatever you gave him was turning him into a real fuckin’ sap, thats for damn sure. 

Sukuna needed this nightmare to be over, and have neither of you ever speak of it again.

You on the other hand are doing your best to fight the urge to bashfully shrink away. There were typically only 3 emotions that ever appeared on Sukuna’s face: brooding, predatory or straight up hostile.

Him looking at you this way is freaking you out.

“You’re a weirdo.”

Sukuna exhales, exasperated. 

He doesn’t know what to do with you. His troublesome lil’ human that, for some insane reason, he’d formed an attachment to beyond using as a cocksleeve.

“Then you’re a dumb slut who likes to fuck weirdos, brat.”

Shoving your face into his neck, you inhale the scent of his skin and your sex.

“Got me there, Daddy.”

Nibbling up to his chin, one of his arms wrap around you, bringing you impossibly closer when your teeth graze over his sweat slicked Adam's apple. 

Grinning at him, you lick up any of your essence lingering on his face.

“You know, I’m going into the city with Uraume next week—I could get some more of this shit, we could actually smoke it next time, hm?”

“You could also be a corpse scattered in a million pieces by then.”

Although Sukuna’s yawns sound more like roars, he can’t even bring himself to be annoyed at his displays of weakness any longer. The edible enhanced the stated feelings of the after sex high, amplifying it a hundred fold and making him unusually docile. 

Even if Sukuna could now understand why mortals do this for “fun”, he personally just never wanted near the stuff again—let alone in his fucking palace.

But he’d fight you over that later.

“Moreover, I will literally never eat any of your concoctions again.”

You’re yawning too, the effect being contagious as the question absentmindedly slips from your lips.

“...Hm, s’that so? *yawn* ….Well why did ya in the first place, Kuna?”

Tsk, stupid woman—because you made them, of course.

Sukuna said it in his head. 

Sukuna swore he said it in his head.

But when you immediately bolt upright, eyes expanding like saucers, he knows he fucked up. 

Attempting to recover, he tacks on a brash comment. Remarking on how he knew consuming them all would piss you off—oh and it had—but in this case, the damage had already been done.

Concern flashing across your eyes, you hurriedly brush your fingers through his rosy locks. Picking and prodding, firmly turning his head from side to side, until Sukuna’s own hands entrap yours, pausing your frantic actions.

“And just what the fuck are you doing now, woman?!”

“Checking for stitches.”

Sukuna gives a disgruntled snort, scoffing at your foolishness.

“I’m serious! Kenjaku’s not in there with you, is he?!”

“You must actually think I won’t kill you, brat….”

You giggle softly, satisfied with his answer as you peck tender kisses on his lips but Sukuna is unmoved. 

Sukuna hardly ever kisses you to be fair—but you’d just fucked him to tears! 

The least he can do to repay you is a kiss!

“C’mon Kuna, stick out your tongue a lil’ for me.”

Sukuna stares at you unamused.

“Aweee—Please, Daddy?”

Your words hang in the air, a rebuttal poised on the edge of his lips. 

But upon meeting your bright angelic eyes, Sukuna in a moment of unexpected impulse, closes the gap between you. 

Your lips clash as you breathe in one another. The kiss is less urgent than your earlier cravings, but just as filled with desire. A tumultuous dance of tongues and teeth, fueled by some magnetic pull that would likely never be vocalized in words—yet you still feel everything Sukuna leaves unsaid.

You smile once he allows you to pull back for air, blowing a kiss at him before resting your head back on his chest. Your body easily molds over him and his remaining arms snake around your form.

All of Sukuna’s eyes were closed, the welcome heaviness behind his lids extending down through his entire being.

Honestly, this is the most at peace he’s been in centuries. 

“Mmm…one more question, Kuna?”

Of course, you would be the one to disturb that though.

“Only if you promise to go the fuck to sleep after, brat.”

You nod into his chest, your hands only cupping a tiny part of his biceps as your manicured nails trace along his tattoos.

“How’d they taste?”

Seriously? 

You’re fucking insufferable. 

But Sukuna is way too over it all to fight you right now.  His entire body feels akin to a giant sandbag with every passing second.

“Decent. Now sleep.”

Your shrill squeal has him regretting his compliment immediately. 

“Aweee Kuna, Daddy! You big softie! Next you’ll be telling me you love me, huh?”

Tsk, and this is exactly why Sukuna would fuck you unconscious—so he didn’t have to put up with your nonsensical overly emotional prattling after. The intimacy of pillow talk has him queasier than the vertigo he’d experienced earlier. 

“I loathe you.”

“Love you t—”

Faster than you can react, his powerful hands move, grappling your head down and clamping over your mouth instantly.

“SLEEP!”

Listening to the grumbles resonating in his chest from Sukuna's unintelligible muttered curses, you hum contentedly with his hand over your mouth, a simple ghost of a smile lingering on your lips as you ease into a comforting slumber.

The next morning, you are stirred awake by blinding sunlight.

Still lethargic from the night before, and totally not a morning person, you try to roll over. Yet you find yourself unable to move. 

Huh?

Wanting to rub your eyes clear of sleep, you become aware that your hands, for some reason, are behind your back and are also immobilized.

Panic begins to set in. You fear it might be a bad bout of sleep paralysis—that is, until you hear Sukuna’s dark voice bellow over you sarcastically.

“Oh? What’s this? The lazy whore finally arises…”

Heart pounding anxiously, your bleary eyes open to the vision of Sukuna’s form towering over you next to his bed. 

Ok, at least he had the decency to—

A flash of red catches your eye.

Oh, fuck…

Entangled in the shibari frog-tie position—you are bound in complex knots. The thick silk crimson ropes intricately weave their way around your naked body. 

Tied with seasoned precision, the visually striking pattern of the ropes accentuated your body’s serpentine contours. Knees bent, your plump thighs are spread wide and apart, which secure to your calves. 

You feel a chill run through you as the early morning air breezes past your cunt, fully exposed as the ropes are the only thing adorning you.

Equally excited as you are terrified, your squirms cause the diamond cut pattern to imprint deeper into your supple skin. Shivering under his smolder, goosebumps erupt across your skin and fat tears well on the edges of your eyes.

Sukuna sinks low to crouch over you.

“Now, now—”

His powers fully restored, the depraved smirk Sukuna wears is the most chilling you’d ever seen.

“—you didn’t delude your silly little head into thinking I wouldn’t get my turn, now did you?”

Sukina cups your face, the mouth on his hand savoring your tears.

The harsh reality donning upon you as to how fucked you really are in this situation right now.

Shifting his grasp to squeeze your cheeks, Sukuna forces your mouth open. 

Fully awake, your eyes nearly pop out of your head as Sukuna unveils a platter—the same platter bearing the last remaining manju edible.

“Now fucking say ‘ahh’ for Daddy, brat.”

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

» a/n: what you think of 420 Sukuna? Hopefully it wasn't too long/dragged on? this is meant to be a one shot btw. im really not trying to do a p2 (please, lmfao i cant). i still have a toji 420 fic half written and an idea for nanami but putting those on the back burner to finish another installment of otaku!gojo or nerd geto p2, one of those will be next. i promise! taglist will be in reblogs.

comments & reblogs make my coochie cream

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 | eddie munson x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | based on a request from the lovely @ultraintrovertedgryffindor ; getting stuck in an elevator with his best friend (and secret crush) was absolutely not on eddie's morning agenda, but it leads to one of his most wild fantasies coming to life.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 3.8k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | SMUT (18+ only!! semi-public sex, oral m receiving, kinda pervy eddie but also slightly pervy reader with a balls fixation gee I wonder where that idea came from), best friends to lovers (but very very limited plot haha), pretty much exactly what it says on the tin y'all not sure what to say

Eddie laughed as he pressed his hands to the elevator doors, but it wasn't a laugh of amusement— it was exasperation, frustration, an is this really happening? laugh.

"Soonest we can get a crew out there is uhh... noon?" the voice on the emergency phone informed you.

"Noon?!" you yelped. "It's not even half past eight!"

"What did I tell ya?" Eddie recalled, hanging his head in defeat for a second. "Nothing good happens before ten."

"Just try to stay calm and we'll be there when we can," the operator suggested, like it was so simple.

You didn't even reply to that, just scoffed and hung up.

It wasn't like he'd been looking forward to his GED exam, in fact he'd almost been hoping for a way to put it off or get out of it... but this was definitely not what he was imagining. Of all the elevators to get stuck in, this generic government building where he was supposed to have his big test proctored was probably the most boring option.

He glanced over at you, and stopped himself from making a dirty joke: you heard that Aerosmith single, right? Love In An Elevator?

That probably wouldn't have gone over well. He used to say stuff like that when you were both a little younger, but he'd since given up hope of it ever actually... inspiring anything.  You two were probably better off as friends anyways; or, that’s what he told himself to make it sting a little less.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck in here for a while…” he mumbled instead.  “Did they say what the issue is?”

“Some kind of power failure?” you recalled with a shrug.  “It’s gonna take a while to fix, that’s the important thing.  Do you think they’ll call the fire department?”

“Who knows,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the wall as you sank onto the floor and dropped your head back against the wall.  “I guess we should just try to get comfortable.”

Which was easier said than done, but at least he was stuck here with you— you were generally pretty fun to talk to.  Of course, you weren’t exactly in your best mood due to the circumstances…

At 8:32, Eddie checked his watch.  “I’m officially late for my exam,” he noticed.

At 9, you checked your own; “And I’m officially late for work.  We'll see if I even still have a job when we get out of here," you groaned. "I was on pretty thin ice already."

By 9:14, the stuffiness of the elevator was becoming harder to ignore.  Eddie slipped off his jacket and vest in response to the heat, but resisted the urge to take off his Ozzy shirt. You'd seen him shirtless before, of course, but he figured out would be weirder without the right context.

"Fuck, it's hot in here," you whined quietly.

"I guess the power issue affects the A/C, huh," Eddie noticed.

"You think?" you scoffed, reaching up to unbutton the top of your shirt.

For some reason, he kinda liked when you were condescending like that; of course he loved it when you were sweet like usual, but when you got frustrated and sarcastic and looked at him like he was crazy... for whatever reason, it worked for him. And it was definitely working like never before when combined with your hasty efforts to open your shirt.

He expected you to stop after a couple buttons, but you just kept going, exposing more and more of your chest glistening with sweat. His eyes were glued to it, until you got low enough for him to see a glimpse of your bra, and he coughed as he turned his head quickly.

"Woah, hey, uh--" he stammered out awkwardly.

"Oh whatever, you've seen me in a bikini, it's the same thing," you rolled your eyes.

But it's not the same thing, because you were stripping, untucking the button-up from your tight skirt, fanning your flushed skin...

And he was tugging the crotch of his jeans down a bit when you weren't looking, trying to keep his oncoming boner from being too obvious. 

Leaving your shirt open, you sighed and sat down on the floor, splaying your legs out on the ground.  He could see how uncomfortable you were, and it made him press his lips together while he sighed through his nose.  Though he was a little afraid you weren’t in the mood for any friendly behavior as your frustration and stir-craziness increased, he walked across the elevator and sat down next to you.  “I was probably gonna flunk the test,” he decided.

“What?  No you weren’t,” you scoffed.  “You studied so hard!  I’m really proud of you, you know.”

“Just ‘cause we’re stuck in here doesn’t mean you should get all sappy with me—” he started.

“No— ‘cause we’re stuck in here I’m not gonna put up with you trying to be down on yourself,” you decided sternly with a little glare at him.  “You were gonna fucking ace it, I know you were.  You worked your ass off.  I know you wanted to act like you didn’t care, but you actually got your shit together and did it.”

“You… you helped me a lot,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Please, I hardly did anything— mostly just kept you from getting too distracted,” you denied, blissfully unaware that he actually found you more distracting sometimes, but never minded it.  “Can you stop being a pussy and just admit you’re actually smart, and dedicated, and more than capable of nailing this?”

He blinked quickly and looked down into his lap, feeling his face warm up— not just from the heat.  How could you be so mean and nice at the same time?  

“And now it’s gonna go to waste, ‘cause of this godforsaken elevator,” you sighed, dropping your head back; a pessimistic end to a pep talk, but he couldn’t blame you.

"Think of it this way: it couldn't get any worse!" Eddie offered with a faux-upbeat tone.

Right then, the lights in the elevator flickered and turned off, plunging you both into darkness. "I fucking hate you," you announced after a short silence.

He heard a whirring sound from somewhere else in the shaft, and a dimmer orange lighting came on inside the elevator; some kind of emergency back-up generator thing, probably. It was enough to see decently well, especially as his eyes started to adjust, but still made it feel like you were both in an even more perilous situation.

“I didn’t sleep enough last night,” you admitted, “I might try to catch up on that.  Maybe if I can sleep this will go by faster…”

“I like that plan,” he decided, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do the same.  Eddie had a hard time keeping still and quiet, but he managed to do it so you could get your rest.

He suspected you had fallen asleep when your breathing seemed to slow down a bit— but he knew you had when you limply slumped to the side, your head gently landing on his shoulder.  This happened every once in a while, a sign of how comfortable you were with him. He supposed he should be thankful for it, but sometimes it just made him furious. Because what cruel punishment was this, to have you lay on him like this when he can't put his arm around you and kiss your head and tell you how perfect you are?

The half-boner he’d wound up with earlier when you unbuttoned your shirt had never really gone away, and it noticed your proximity with renewed interest.  Maybe it was just because he was so bored with literally nothing to do but think about you, but his mind kept coming up with all these fucked up ideas based on the eyeful he’d gotten.  

What if you’d taken off your bra as well and let him see the tits he’d been fantasizing about for longer than he cared to admit?  What if this had happened in winter instead and the elevator was brutally cold and you two had to hold your naked bodies together for warmth?  What if that guy on the phone said this thing was airtight and two only had an hour to live and you decided you wanted to go out with a bang, literally?  

He wondered if he’d be brave enough to tell you how he felt about you, if either or both of you only had an hour left.  For better or for worse, this elevator shaft had airflow, so you were more likely to die of boredom than anything.

He shifted slightly, stuck in a somewhat awkward position, but it didn't help much— though thankfully it didn't wake you up, either.  He just wished he could get some relief, somehow.

Obviously, he knew it was a bad idea. But the thing about his dick is it usually talked him into some pretty bad ideas…

He tested the waters with a whisper of your name, but you just kept breathing slowly— you were out cold. Maybe you were even more nervous for him than you'd let on, if you were that underslept.

Reaching up with his free hand, all he had to do was grip himself through his jeans to get some relief; he sighed through his nose, shutting his eyes.

His cock flexed impatiently as he unzipped the jeans as slowly as possible to avoid making too much sound. But god was it worth the wait— as soon as he slipped his hand into his boxers he had to bite his lip, it was so good just to get some attention for his poor, lonely dick.

This was far from the first time Eddie had jerked off to the thought of you. But he was sure he'd never done it while you were this close.

He did it once or twice in your bathroom while you were on the other side of the wall, that was probably the closest he'd come to this before. And that was chump change compared to this-- this was so risky it made his heart race and his hands shake with adrenaline, but it only made him more desperate for whatever reason.

He wouldn't have swiped his thumb through the precum at his slit if he had known how good it would feel— or maybe if he'd known how good it would feel, he would've been able to prepare himself for it. But the anxiety of getting caught had made him even more sensitive, so he hadn't really seen it coming, and when he did it he let out a little moan through his teeth that he couldn't stop.

You stirred again and he froze; when you lifted your head off of his shoulder, he hastily shoved himself back into his jeans, trying to cover up the open fly with the bottom of his shirt.

“Were you… jerking off?” you realized, and he felt sick with fear as his heart raced like never before.

“W-what?” he scoffed incredulously.  “I— are you crazy?”

“Ed,” you warned firmly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I— sorry—”

“Are you that bored?” you mocked with a snort, and he felt even more flushed; it made his cock flex under the mediocre covering of his shirt when you degraded him like that.

“N-no— well, yeah, I just— you put your head on me and I—”

“It was because of me?” you realized, and his mouth fell open.  He hadn’t realized that you hadn’t actually put that together yet; of course he’d ended up just digging himself deeper.

“W-well, uh— I mean, no, no I— well.  Kind of?”

“Kind of, as in…”

“Completely,” he blurted out.

You were quiet for a long time, and he couldn’t see your face well enough to even try to guess what you were thinking.  Although you probably could’ve given him a thousand guesses and he never would’ve guessed what you ended up saying: “You want some help with that?” you offered.

But before he could even answer— not that he really could, he was too busy having a short circuit in his brain— you were reaching for his lap.  And even if his mind was blown, his body knew to just lift his hands up and out of the way and let you do whatever you wanted to him.

You pulled up the bottom of his shirt and sighed a little when you saw his cock, still hard and leaking and curled up against his stomach.  You carefully wrapped your hand around it, and he swallowed thickly, wondering if he was dreaming or something— you were so… soft.

“Like this?” you asked gently, making his hips twitch up into your hand for a second.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes glued to the way your hand looked wrapped around him.  If only the lights weren’t out, he wanted to see it even better.

He looked at your face, moving your hair a little to make sure he could see you, but from what he could tell your eyes were trained on his lap.

“Fuuuck,” he whispered when you stroked him a bit more confidently.  He wanted to shut his eyes from how good it felt, but he didn’t want to look away from a moment of this in case you, you know, came to your senses and stopped.

“S’really thick,” you said, under your breath, a little bit shyly.  He groaned and ran his hand over your back, trying not to do too much in case it startled you but also totally helpless to how badly he needed you.  “I wonder if I can…”

You trailed off, and before he could decide if he should ask what you were going to say, you 

As soon as you leaned down and put your mouth around him, his back arched and his legs kicked a bit.  “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, melting into the warm feeling of your lips, your tongue— god, he couldn’t believe you were doing this to him.  He actually had to fight the urge to tell you so, to admit how much he’d imagined this; he settled for whining out your name and running a hand over your hair encouragingly.  “S’fucking warm, oh my god—”

You hummed around him, sucking a bit harder, swirling your tongue around the tip; who the fuck taught you that?  It made his chest burn with some targetless jealousy even while it made his cock flex proudly. 

Your hand still gripping the base, you took him a little bit deeper, moaning a little bit once again while you did it.  No way you actually enjoyed this, right?

You pulled your head up a bit— he took his hand away quickly, not trying to hold you down or anything— and just when he wondered if you might stop, you dropped down lower so you could run your tongue up from the very bottom all the way to his leaking slit—

“Jesus,” he laughed thinly, “what are you doing to me, baby?”

“Whatever I wanna do,” you replied— if he was a little braver, he would’ve asked what made you want this, how long you wanted this— but he was more than content to let you do whatever you wanted, so far you had some pretty fucking good ideas.

Your head sank even a little bit lower, and he pushed his jeans down just a bit in case they were getting in your way.  Boy, was he glad he did.  “Fuck,” he gasped, watching in shock as you looked up at him while your tongue ran over his balls.  “Sorry, they’re, uh, kinda sweaty…”

“Even better,” you purred; what the fuck were you doing acting so dirty like that?

“Baby,” he laughed thinly, “is this some kind of claustrophobia-induced psychosis or something?  Who are you and what have you done with my prude best friend?”

“Prude?  That’s unfair,” you laughed.  “Just ‘cause I don’t advertise every dirty thought that goes through my mind doesn’t mean I’m not as much of a freak as you…”

“Freak is an understatement,” he sighed, struggling to keep his voice even when he was literally watching you lick all over his balls like this.  “You’re a proper fucking slut.”

You hummed proudly, eyes getting a little heavier— when you looked up at him like that, he was totally helpless.  “It’s slutty to wanna taste your best friend’s balls?”

“F-fuck, of course it is,” he whined, cock flexing in your hand again when you licked a stripe up between then.

“Well then yeah, guess I’m a slut,” you agreed. 

“G-god, I— I’m gonna—” he tried to warn you, but it happened so fast— it happened the second you started to gently suck on his balls, in fact.  What was he supposed to do when you did that?!  How could he not shoot cum all over his now-definitely-ruined shirt?

“Oh shit,” you giggled— his cock was still flexing and you were already mocking him.

“What— what the fuck,” he began, trying to catch his breath, “made you wanna do that?”

But you were already straddling his lap, pulling up your skirt to your waist.

“F-fuck, baby, I— are you seriously—?”

He cut himself off and whimpered when he got a good look at your panties, the cute lacy kind— and pretty fucking soaked already.

“I-I don’t have a condom,” he warned you, cursing himself inside for finally throwing out the one in his wallet thinking he would never end up needing it.

“Don’t care,” you sighed, pulling your panties aside and guiding his tip right up to your entrance.

“Fuck, that’s—”

He was gonna say it was insanely hot, but you hardly noticed; you were already sliding down onto him, taking him in one motion right to the base.

“Oh fuck!” he nearly shouted, gripping hard onto your thighs.  “F-fuck, you’re so tight, fuck…”

You started moving right away, grinding on top of him for a second before lifting your hips and bouncing up and down.  “Fuck,” you sighed, “so deep…”

Was it wrong that he loved the way you were basically just using him?  You hadn’t even let him finish his sentence, you didn’t ask if he could handle it right after coming— you just started riding him, and far be it from him to complain about that.

“Take this off,” he pleaded, tugging at your unbuttoned shirt and trying to push it off your shoulders.

You helped him get it off, and before you’d even tossed it off to the side he was reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.  The gods of bra clasps smiled down upon him that day, because he was sure he’d never gotten one open so quickly, and if there was any time he really needed it, it was now.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he got a good look at them— not good enough in this dim orange lighting, but it would do— and instantly got a hold of your chest.  You didn’t seem to mind the clammy hands, considering the way you whimpered a little and clenched inside around him.  “God, baby, your tits…”

As much as he’d been waiting ages for a chance to see you naked, he couldn’t deny you looked way too good with the skirt, stockings, and heels still on.  He could already tell this was going to give him a complex.

He ran a hand up your leg as you moved just to feel the silky nylon; god, he hoped you didn’t get fired for the unexplained extreme lateness, if not just for your sake then so that you would keep dressing like this every day.  “So pretty,” he sighed, wondering if you could see in the dark how totally in awe he was of you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, in that way he’d always imagined you would in a time like this.  Your head fell back and he couldn’t help but reach up and grab your neck— not applying much pressure, just holding you there, just admiring how goddamn perfect his hand looked wrapped around you.  

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Eddie sighed, “fuck, look at you go.”

You smiled a little, he could see it even with your head tilted back like that, and it was just amazing seeing you so… free?  So relaxed and totally shameless, giving in to your pleasure.  But it wasn’t enough: he wanted to see you lose all your composure, he wanted to hear you scream his name, he wanted to make you shake and cry and beg— that was why he grabbed a tight hold of your hips and pulled you down onto him, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway.  It forced his cock even deeper and you yelped a little.

“Not too big for you, is it?” he taunted.

“No, fuck, s’perfect,” you moaned, your voice deep and rough and so fucking beautiful like this.  “Fuckin’ perfect, Ed, o-oh god—”

“Keep saying my name,” he ordered.

“Eddie,” you said, again, but this time all needy and cute; it just made him fuck you harder, biting down on his lip to muffle some of his own noises— he just wanted to hear you.  He pulled you down and hugged you close, keeping you still so he could fuck up into you exactly how he wanted; you moaned right by his ear, fuck it was too precious.  

“I’m already close again,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “Fuck, look what you do to me.”

You whined louder, clenching on his cock— he seriously did not know how much more of this he could take.

“Wanted you so bad,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself, “wanted this for so long.  Wanted to fuck you— I wanna make you come, fuck, please, please come.”

He felt you nod against his shoulder as you gasped, and he shut his eyes tight, just focusing on his movements and trying his best not to speed up too much just to chase his own high.  He needed you to come more than he needed his own pleasure, even if everything in his body was screaming for a chance to come inside you. “So close,” you panted, “fuck, Eddie, don’t stop— please don’t stop— yes!”

The lights turning back on suddenly startled you both, making him freeze and look around (and squint a little from the brightness), but that was nothing compared to the shock of the doors opening.  Behind them was mostly just concrete, the space between floors, but up top was about two feet of the eighth level, where a crew of firefighters could be seen peering in.

“Are they alright?” someone from the building asked as Eddie scrambled to grab his jacket from the corner and cover you up with it.

“Yeah, looks like they’re doing just fine,” one of the men announced as they broke out in surprised laughter.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

➸ masterlist

“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it. 

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket. 

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.” 

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible. 

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you. 

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks. 

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age. 

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.” 

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him. 

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you. 

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation. 

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time. 

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes. 

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–” 

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.” 

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–” 

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you. 

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden. 

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut. 

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.” 

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating. 

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw. 

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes. 

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie. 

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape. 

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you. 

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist. 

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you. 

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now. 

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives. 

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains. 

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

.

.

.

[the end] 

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

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