#if i wasn’t so loud and annoying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eupheme · 2 months

Text

— sugar, sugar

[part ii] | [part iii] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 6.5k

tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, immature humor, a reference to while you were sleeping, wingman!wade and the worse way to meet someone, light angst, oral sex, swallowing, fingering, v. light ass play, unprotected PiV, appearance of The Claws, what’s a refractory period, sorta audible voyeurism (brief/humorous)

a/n: includes spoilers for deadpool & wolverine (which omg I loved - what was your fave cameo?)

Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.

“You gonna introduce me?”

You’ve cornered Wade in the apartment’s laundry room - the door to the front-loading washer hanging open as he holds a bundle of red fabric up to his chest.

“You think this will wash out?”

The suit in question looks like it had been run over by a truck and then set on fire, with the rips criss-crossed in the leather and the numerous charred holes scattered across the chest.

“Definitely.” Your eyes flicker down, and then back up, “So, will you?”

He bundles the suit up - flinging into the back of the washer, the laundry basket still tucked under an arm.

“Really? Not even ‘hello, Wade’? ‘Looking good, Wade’?” His voice pitches up, imitating yours, “Does our friendship really mean nothing to you?”

You wouldn’t necessarily call Wade Wilson a friend.

In fact, he’s honestly the worst neighbor you’ve ever had.

Loud, obnoxious. Persuasive - the first night you met you had been banging on his door at three in the morning, yelling at him to shut up as music and a caterwauling voice blared through the shared wall.

Ten minutes later you were playing the drums on his late night session of Rock Band, using a banana and a wooden spoon in place of sticks. Only for Althea to stomp out of her room and shut everything down, scaring both of you out of your skins.

But sometimes, you think - remembering the times he came through for you, a shoulder to cry on, helping him this slump he’s been digging himself out of - he might just be the best, as well.

And maybe that was friendship, after all.

You sigh, leaning against the row of washers. Eyes flicking over him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You do look good, Wade,” There’s a tilt of your head, the smile widening, “Glad you lost the toupee, that really wasn’t your color.”

“Ah, ah. Repurposed,” He chides, cupping his crotch, “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed-”

“Ew, stop.” Your face scrunches, a hand covering your eyes as you shield your vision, “Will you please just answer my question?”

He throws a handful of shirts in the washer, “Which was...?”

Your head shakes - a hand on his arm as you reach for a glint of gold in the pile of clothes. Cringing as a handgun appears, held gingerly between thumb and forefinger as you set it on the side table.

“Good call,” He nods, “Dry clean only.”

You can't help a laugh then, even as your hands brace on your hips, “I want to meet your roommate.”

He frowns, “You’ve met Blind Al.”

“Jesus, Wade. Not Al." A hand waves, " I mean Mister Tall, Dark, and Brooding.”

You’ve seen the stranger in the hallways a few times in the month since he’s moved in. Scruffy and scowling the first time, a silent shadow behind Wade’s endless chatter.

But in the weeks following, that look had softened. You’d stopped by twice with cookies to welcome him, but every time you’ve just gotten Al.

Not that you dislike Al, that’s not it at all. She’s sweet enough to you when it’s not 3 a.m. or if Wade doesn’t have her annoyed half to death.

But you certainly weren’t harboring a crush on her. Maybe even secretly hoping that maybe the new neighbor will get a little lost and end up at your door, instead of his new place.

“Ooh,” The syllables draw out - detergent flung in, before he’s leaning against the washer too, facing you. “Yeah, Logan. He's great, got a mean ‘Hugh Jackman’ vibe, just without the singing. You’d like him.”

Something like hope flutters in your belly, but then he’s raising a finger - wiggling it at you, “Just one question though. What’s in it for me?”

That has you scowling, “What do you mean? You owe me. I covered for you when you had that barqueue in the stairwell.”

“God, that was great sausage.” Wade groans, thinking back, “Mmm, but I think Peter covered for me.”

“Who do you think got Peter?”

“Well, I don’t remember seeing you.” He shrugs.

“I was right-,” You pinch the bridge of your nose between thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale of breath, “Fine. If you do this for me, I’ll do that thing you keep asking me to do.”

Wade gasps gleefully, “You mean you’ll make the triple decker-”

“-chocolate caramel cheesecake chimichangas. Yes.” You finish with him, arms crossing over your chest, “You’re lucky you heal fast because that should put you right into a food coma.”

“Right. Lucky me,” He smirks. A second as he thinks, before he snaps his fingers, “I’m having a little get-together tonight! You should come. Was gonna invite you anyway.”

The pounding in your head ratchets up at the thought that all this could’ve been avoided.

“Logan sleeps on the couch, though,” He adds, sagely, “So just letting you know that if the two of you decide to get your fuck on in my bed, according to the state of New York I am legally allowed to join you.”

“Thanks for the warning,” You grimace - even if you’re certain that cannot possibly be true, “But I do have my own apartment.”

“Oh, right.” There’s the faintest edge of disappointment in his tone, paired with a sigh.

You give him a sideways look, then.

“I saw Vanessa leaving yesterday. Things getting better?”

He sobers at that, eyes moving towards the sliver of a window. The glimpse of the street outside.

“Yeah.” Wade manages, “Yeah, I think so.”

There had once been a flicker of something. In-between your annoyance and exasperation, there were tendrils of tenderness. Long snuffed out, when you had seen just how banged up his heart was. How it’s always belonged to another.

You had gotten over it. Gotten to a place where seeing him now, like this, makes you smile.

“I’m really glad to hear that.”

He smiles, then.

“Thanks. Me too.”

“Hey, hold on.” Wade darts in front of his roommate, a leg kicked up high to block the doorway, “Where are you going? You can’t go out.”

Logan scowls, an arm already shoved into his leather jacket, “Sure I can.”

The blow against his shoulder might move a lesser man, but Wade’s fingers just grip the frame even tighter, “But I promised-, I got a friend that wants to meet you. There is some really important shit at stake here. I can’t let you go.”

An eyebrow cocks, “Can’t? I think we both know how that would go if you tried to stop me.”

It would be easy to get into this right here and now, but his suit is still in the dryer and he’s not about to spend another hour cleaning up blood.

“Wait, wait, wait,” He throws a hand up, “Aren’t you listening to me? A girl wants to meet you. She’s hot, she has a job, and she has an apartment. You’re only one outta three there. Can’t you see what a good opportunity this is? This is totally in your favor!”

Logan scoffs, his tongue tucking against his teeth. Hesitating for just a second, but it's enough that Wade knows he’s got him.

“I’ve met your friends,” He eventually acknowledges, “They’re good folk and all, but there isn’t anyone there I’d like to ‘get to know better’, yeah?”

“You haven’t met this one. She lives next door.”

The pause stretches longer this time. Dark eyes dart out into the hallway, and Wade can practically hear those rusted gears turning.

“Apartment 16 or 18?” Logan finally rasps, his arms crossing.

Oh, he’s definitely got him. Just call him Wade Wilson, New York’s own personal Cupid. New life goal - get his friends laid.

He nocks a mental arrow - aiming, and then firing with his answer.

“18.”

Another beat passes, and then a sigh.

“Alright.” The leather sleeve slips from his arm, drooping in his fist.

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m staying.”

Wade’s fist pumps.

Bullseye, motherfucker.

The apartment is packed and it’s been well past the allotted five minutes. Logan’s been nursing a beer for the last fifteen, eyes flicking over the people he’s grown to know well.

Offering a tight, half-smile when the big man claps him on the back, followed by Opposites Attract. Almost tempted to find that damn dog, just to have something to do.

Or maybe, just bail all-together.

Starting to think this was all an elaborate prank. Some fucked up aspect of this Earth, unknown to him until now.

He’s too old for this shit. If he heads for the bedroom now, he might make it out the fire escape before anyone notices.

Logan is still entertaining this new thread of thought until he hears his name - called out over whatever fuck-face bullshit boy-band music Wade’s been playing.

Ambiance, his ass.

The muscles of his crossed arms flex. Catching the way his roommate hauls a girl across the floor - the look of panic on her face as she tosses a container onto the nearest surface.

Wade hadn’t been lying, after all. It was Apartment 18 - that was about as much as he knew about you.

Other than the color of your eyes. The smell of your perfume in the hall. Your hair, your schedule - waking in the mornings to hear your door opening at 5 a.m., five days a week.

A baker. A damn good one, from the bits of cookie he’s snuck when no one was home.

Had never thought to introduce himself, because he’s been through all this before. Knows better than to reach out in the first place - still nursing the old wound of heartache, one that still flares to life in his chest.

Better not to hope, or even think, at all.

You stumble when he lets go, and Logan’s hands only curl tighter. Afraid to touch, now that you’re so close.

A pretty young thing compared to him. This was a fucking stupid idea, his eyes darting away as Wade claps, his hands spreading wide.

“Logan,” Wade’s tone is cordial, as if discussing the weather, “This is our neighbor, Sugar. She bakes a mean penis cake and likes emotionally unavailable men.”

A dejected sigh as he regards you, “Which is why it’s never worked out between us. I am just too available.”

Penis cake?

Logan shoots you a sideways look, an eyebrow cocked. Caught off guard by this unexpected intro, and it seems you are the same - gauging by the way your mouth drops open.

Your face swimming with regret, as you hiss, “Oh my god. Wade. It was one time. Why do you have to put it like that?”

Wade’s smile widens, his tone still innocent, “Just skipping over the ‘getting-to-know-you’s, so you can know if you’re compatible.”

Already pivoting to face Logan with a little wink, his own scowl already deepening. Something like nerves flickering to life - as he wonders if this will all be over before it ever begins.

“And this is Logan. He’s from another Earth, is two-hundred years old, and has a metal dong.”

Jesus Christ.

Logan’s teeth grit, before he snarls, “It’s not made of metal-”

Out of the corner of his eye, catches the curious dip of your gaze. Past the folded twist of his arms, the flannel, down to his thick belt buckle.

A knock rings out then, interrupting him from any further clarification.

“Ooh! Door,” Wade thumbs over his shoulder, “Go on now, we’ve got some good energy going here. Sugar and spice, I love it.”

A spin on his heel, and he’s leaving them alone. Silence a lingering companion for a long moment, before Logan turns.

“Nice to meet you.” He seethes, jaw working as he shoots daggers at Wade’s back. A hand extended - he’d manage that much at least.

Waiting for you to make an excuse and run, but all you do is fit your hand into his. Soft and strong and a near perfect fit.

Logan doesn’t touch people much anymore unless it’s a hand around a throat, or claws buried deep into a chest. Had almost forgotten what it was like, even if this meeting is close to his own personal version of hell.

“Nice to finally meet you, too.” Your smile is wry. Hands still clasped a moment longer, until he’s withdrawing.

Your hands shove into your back pockets. The tilt of a head as you regard him, and he lets his eyes meet yours.

They’re pretty, like the rest of you. Captivating even, if he could use such a word, and Wade’s words ring out in his head.

She wants to meet you.

He’s wondering if that’s still true. Maybe you’re wondering the same, with the way you look at him.

“So,” You begin, awkwardly - another unconscious flick of your eyes,“How does-”

“Uh-uh.” Logan’s head shakes. He’s picked up a couple things living with Wade. Never used to be a bargaining man, but he has to admit it has its uses.

“If you wanna know, you gotta go first.”

He hates you.

He must, with the way he’s scowling. Thighs spread wide as he sits on the couch you had gestured to, fingers in a vice grip around the bottle. No doubt plotting a dozen ways to ditch you the second he can.

Who wouldn’t, with a meeting like this? You could kill Wade, cheeks burning as you sink into the worn cushions next to him.

That is, until your knee knocks against his. The muscles in his thigh flexing - but Logan lets it rest, instead of pulling away.

“You gonna-?” His voice is gruff, a low rasp that makes goosebumps raise across your skin.

“Uh, sure.” Your fingers twist, “Which part did you want to hear about?”

His eyebrows lift. Those dark eyes beneath, almost a hint of amusement in them.

“Right,” The little laugh that bubbles from you is self-conscious, “Well, I don’t really like emotionally unavailable men, they just have a habit of finding me.”

His voice is low, “How would Wade know that?”

“Mm, how would he know about your-?” Your eyes flicker down for the third time, and he shifts.

“You first.”

“Alright.” You huff, but you’re smiling now. Some of your discomfort easing.

Logan is even more handsome than you had thought. You like the way his eyes dart away, only to come back and linger.

It’s starting to make you think that maybe it’s not dislike that has so much of him hidden away. Maybe it’s just been a long time since someone tried to peel any of him back.

Maybe he’s as nervous as you are.

“Well, he’s had to scare an ex or two away.” You shrug, “He only knows because I told him. And the cake, oh-, that was him, too.”

You turn then, to face him. A shoulder brushing the arm he has thrown across the back of the couch, a flicker in his eyes as you get comfortable beside him.

“Well, Wade had gotten ripped in half a couple years ago,” You nose wrinkles, a wave of your hand, “And it all like, has to grow back, right? It’s so creepy.”

Logan grimaces at your explanation, and you wonder if he understands. You think he must - you had thought he was like Wade, in some ways.

Different. Special.

“Well, he uh, finished growing everything in,” You make a sweeping gesture over your lower half, “And the next year to celebrate his dickiversary, he ordered a penis cake from my shop.”

“His… dickiversary.” Logan repeats slowly.

The heat is back in your cheeks, but you nod, “Yeah, because it like, it came back and all. And he paid in cash, I couldn’t say no.”

There’s the smallest twitch of Logan’s lips, and it feels like a victory.

“Right. What flavor was it?”

Your smile widens with relief, “Strawberries and cream. It was so good. I’ll have to make it for you sometime.”

A second before you cringe, adding, “I mean, a normal one. Not…”

He hums then, close to a laugh.

“Sure. You do that.”

You smile, letting your shoulder bump his, “And with that… I think it’s your turn.”

The bit of humor in his expression flattens. A searching look thrown your way, before he inhales a breath.

Setting it free.

“I’m a mutant.”

Logan waits there, as if expecting something. You only nod, thinking of the ones you know. Colossus, Ellie, Yukio, Domino. Wade.

“Wade said you were similar to him. I had assumed-” You encourage, waiting.

“Right,” He seems relieved, some of the tension ebbing, “My powers are regenerative, like his. But unlike him, I have these-”

There’s the jerk of his wrist, and three sharp metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. Your gasp is caught in your throat as you cling to his flannel shirt - the surprise bleeding into worry.

They glint in the light, as his fingers flex.

“Adamantium instead of bones. All of me is like this.”

The claws sheath themselves inside him again. His wounds smoothing over seconds later, as he scrubs his knuckles across his jeans, wiping away blood.

Offering out his hand, after. Letting your grip unwind from his shirt, and press against his skin instead. Feeling the tendons in his hand, his wrist. The skeleton beneath utterly unyielding, a weight to his limb that is so unlike your own.

“Metal…” You trail off, as pieces click into place, “I get it now. So does Wade really think there’s like, an actual bone-?”

Logan huffs again, “Guess so.”

You laugh then. A thought sobering you after, as a fingertip drifts up to the dip between his fingers.

“But doesn’t that hurt?”

It makes you wince to even think about it. Much less how casually they sprung from him, no different than breathing.

He shrugs, and it’s heartbreaking.

“Doesn’t even phase me anymore.”

“And, the two hundred years,” Another facet you put together out loud, “You’re still alive because you keep healing? Will it be that way forever?”

His hand flexes in your grip.

“Not forever. Apparently my powers will run out, at some point.” His eyes meet yours, “The Logan in this world is dead. Wade pulled me from another.”

Your brow furrows - always trying to keep up with the snippets that Wade has told you across the years - stories about time-traveling and mutants and even how he came to be. But this seems too deep. Surely Logan must be joking.

“Another world, huh?” You ask, head tilting - trying your best to roll with it, “Won’t they miss you in yours?”

Only now does his face falter. That sharp mask cracking, as his hand pulls from yours. Resting again on the back edge of the couch - his answer low and rough.

“No. I don’t think so.”

Another jolt racks through your heart. You don’t know him know him yet, but you already can’t believe that could possibly be true. Your fingers fan out, hovering - before it folds into a fist.

“Well then, I’m glad you’re here.”

He doesn’t reply.

The room is darker now, dim with the setting of the sun. Street lights outside pouring in a golden beam that cuts across his face.

His eyes are hazel, you can see that now. A fading rim of green spilling into the brown, beneath the near-permanent furrow of his eyebrows.

Yours caught in the glow of the flamingo string lights that curl out from the kitchen, stapled to the walls.

He breaks the silence, the words coming slowly.

“Let me ask you one more thing.”

“Sure. You know some of my worst secrets already.” You smile, a shoulder lifting.

His hand twitches, where it rests near your shoulder. The tip of a finger ghosting against skin.

Just the slightest brush but it feels like it radiates out, lingering after.

“Why’d you tell Wade you wanted to meet me?”

His voice is still low, rough. But it’s lost that sharp edge. The combination has your stomach tied up in knots, suddenly more nervous that you’ve been the whole night.

Surely he must know?

“Well…” You hedge. It’s your turn to look away, but then there’s the brush of his fingers again.

“Because I did want to meet you.” You admit, “You, you seemed like someone I wanted to get to know. In whatever capacity you’d like.”

“Is that right, Sugar?” Logan husks, and the nickname sounds even sweeter on his tongue, stealing your breath.

All you can do is nod, as his eyes darken.

Voices rise behind you, ripping you out of this little bubble you’ve found yourself in. Nearly forgetting just how many people are here, how many eyes have been glancing your way since you’ve arrived.

“Not strip poker Wade, please.” The rough rumbling plea of Colossus’s voice rings out above the others, “You never wear anything under the suit-”

You didn’t even realize when he had changed, but he had - patches of bare skin on his ass showing through the holes. Your nose scrunches, before you turn back to realize that Logan’s eyes are still on you.

Dropping when your tongue peeks out to wet your lips - your words coming out in a soft hush.

“You want to get out of here?”

You want him. You can only hope that he might just want you, too.

The corner of his lip twitches.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

It’s strange to have someone like Logan in your space. You can remember the last time you’ve wanted someone here.

His fingers still entwined with yours, from where you had reached back for him. Leading him through the dim corners of the room.

Thinking you had made it, only for the rousing cheers to rise when you had cracked the door open to slip through.

His grip tightening when you made to tug your hand free, in an urge to press it against burning cheeks. Letting you fumble with one hand, to open the lock next door.

It’s quieter here. A low echo of the music next door, as the darkness wraps around you again.

Here, his fingers move, but it’s only to skim up your wrist. To tug you between him and the front door, until your back presses against it.

His nose brushes yours as he steps into your space, your lips already parting. Holding himself there for a moment, inhaling the scent of you as his arm braces above your head.

Leaving you to be the one that closes the gap. The tilt of your head and the press of your lips against his.

A rough hum when your arms wrap around his neck, fingers buried in his hair. His hand gripping at your waist, pulling your hips against his.

Tugging and pushing. A messy path from the front door through the small living room - a mirror-image of the apartment next door.

Through to the bedroom, wandering hands and the brush of his tongue against yours as he deepens the needy kiss. Until his knees are hitting the edge of your bed, and he’s letting you nudge him back onto the mattress.

He brings you with him - your hips cradling his as you settle yourself astride him. Hands flatten against his chest as you rock down - drawing a rough, mumbled “fuck”.

Grinding yourself down where he’s hard, the curve of his cock straining against his jeans. Letting your hands follow, as his own cup your ass. Squeezing, before slipping to press the heel of his hand against the seam at your clit.

You moan into his mouth, as your fingers curl around him. Eyes blown wide when you pull back, scooting your hips down.

It’s here that he comes back to himself.

Going tense as you fit yourself between his thighs, fingers at this belt as the other still cups him.

“You shouldn’t want this.” He rasps, those eyes glinting in the dark, “A man like me. You know that, right?”

Propping himself up on an elbow, so he can see your expression. So you can see the way his jaw grits, nostrils flaring.

It’s a warning, wrapped up in silk. A last ditch effort to scare you away - knowing that once he has you, he won’t want to stop.

Your fingers slow - his zipper half-undone, baring skin and a dark shadow of hair beneath.

The other pulling away, “You want me to stop?”

He catches your wrist, jerking your hand back. His hips bucking into your palm, grinding himself into your touch.

“The last thing I want to fucking do is stop.” It’s almost a growl, “But on my Earth, I-”

You sigh then, impatient, “Logan, this Earth isn’t all that great either. I lost five years of my life to the blip.”

He frowns, not understanding - but your head shakes as you continue, “I’m tired of being too scared to take chances. I’ve been trying to live each day to the fullest, and I’d like to end this one with you.”

And out of everyone - Logan knows a little something about second chances.

“Yeah,” He manages - the grip of his fist leaves you, “Yeah, okay.”

"Thank you,” You answer primly, just as you finish yanking the zipper down.

His hand beats you in the race to ease himself out, fingers curling around the base. You can’t help it - you inhale a breath at the sight of him.

Heavy, with the way the flushed tip bobs in his grip. Thick enough that you’re already wondering if you’re going to be able to take him.

The huff he makes turns into a groan as you start small - engulfing the leaking head with your lips. The first inch turns into another as his hips lift, feeding his cock into your waiting mouth.

Only when he’s halfway inside you, bumping against your throat, does his hand drop. Letting you replace it with your own - squeezing, as drool slicks up his shaft. Your head bobbing in time with the twist of your fist.

That brief hesitance is quickly forgotten. Fingers brush at your cheek, curling around the base of your head as he guides you.

Leaving you eager for more. Another hissed groan when your mouth leaves him, your hand loosening as you strip your clothes away.

“Oh fuck yes,” He coaxes, when he realizes what you’re doing, “Let me see you, baby.”

Your shirt and pants left to pool on the floor. A second of boldness as you unclasp your bra next, leaving you in your panties as you focus on his cock again.

A bitten-back moan when your tongue slips across his swollen shaft - an low throb between your thighs as you rub them together, clenching around nothing. Resisting the urge to slip your hand beneath the hem to ease the ache.

Instead, your keep your hands on him. Goosebumps raising as your nails scratch against the deep v of muscle at his hips. The others working him into your mouth, as he slowly comes more undone.

His hips flex with each bob of your head, lips parted as he pants. The words a rough mumble, becoming almost desperate.

“That’s it sweetheart.”

Another moan when you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, “Oh fuck, gonna fill that pretty mouth.”

His hand cups your jaw, holding you steady as he bucks into your mouth. Those dark eyes fixed on you in wonder, all that pretty skin bared for him to touch, to taste. He’s mesmerizing like this - the weight of gaze. Jaw slack with pleasure, eyes aflame.

You did this to him.

It sends something warm flooding through you, as his eyelashes flutter. The tipping back of his head, muscles ticking in his cheek as his teeth ground down.

A sound still slips between them, as he floods your mouth with the next flex of his hips. Pulsing between your lips as you swallow him down, a choked sound ripping from his chest when you cup his sack to gently squeeze out every last drop.

Logan melts into the mattress after, an arm thrown over his eyes as he catches his breath. His gaze focusing on you when he feels you squirm - dark, and hungry.

A lithe stretch of muscles as he moves - legs easing from beneath you.

“Hands and knees,” He commands, head tipping towards the bed next to him, as he rolls off. Kicking off his jeans as you listen, watching over a shoulder as the flannel and white tank underneath joins your clothes on the floor.

Your eyes widen at how toned he is - muscles rippling, the bed dipping as he fits himself behind you.

His broad hand at the small of your back, pushing your torso down against the mattress. A pleased hum then, fingers trailing just along the elastic edge of your underwear.

“Could smell how much she needed this.” The tips of two press against the damp fabric between your thighs, making you gasp, “Even next door. You want it that bad?”

It should be embarrassing that he could tell how much you desired him, but at the moment all you can think about is him touching you more.

“Yes,” You agree, “Please, Logan.”

“So fuckin’ polite,” The fingers withdraw; but only so his nose can replace them. A ragged inhale, just before his tongue drags against your clothed slit.

A groan against your skin as you cry out, before a finger hooks around the fabric, baring you for him to taste.

The heat of his tongue flattens against you - lapping at where you drip with need, a rough rumble in his chest.

“Sweet, too.” Another flick of his tongue, “Your name. ‘s fitting.”

You can’t manage words. Only his name, muffled against the sheets as your fists twist in them. Back arched as you resist the urge to grind yourself against his tongue, as it flicks against your clit.

It’s messy, how he eats you. You don’t think you’ve even had someone take you like this. Hungry, desperate even, as he devours you. The rumble of a groan against your cunt as his tongue delves inside you, stretching you open. Letting your slick smear into his beard, with how close he presses his mouth.

That need inside you thrumming. Winding tighter as he yanks your panties down your thighs. His palm flattening against your ass, holding you open as he licks you from clit to hole, then higher. Humming as you squeak, when his tongue flattens against your tight rim.

A thick finger nudging against you then, as his tongue dips back to your clit. There’s no resistance as it slips deeper, into slick walls that clamp down around him. It’s what you needed - that little bit more.

Unable to help rocking into the crook of his finger now. Whining when a second joins it, spearing deep and curling. Dragging against your walls, loud and wet and filthy with each plunge.

Your whimpers only grow louder. Needier, as his lips wrap around your clit. Fingers pounding deep, stretching you out. Leaving you babbling, your words slipping together.

“Don’t fucking stop.” Tears prick at your eyes, each breath a rattling gasp, “Oh my god you’re gonna make me come-”

He has you gushing, with the next flick of his tongue. A pleased groan as he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers, hearing the wail that is muffled into your pillows. That sharp pace slowing, his thumb replacing his tongue to draw your orgasm out until your legs are shaking.

His fingers sticky when they pull from you, only to slip between his lips - tongue curling around his knuckles, sucking them clean.

It leaves you floating above yourself. You can’t remember ever coming this hard, even by yourself. Only the tintest thread of disappointment as you drift, and it’s only that you won’t get the pleasure of his cock filling you tonight.

You would’ve liked to see what he can do with the rest of him.

Perhaps you can convince him to stay until morning.

But he moves behind you, instead. His knee pressing against yours, spreading your legs further. The rhythmic shuffle of skin against skin, as his hand slips from between his lips to fist around his cock.

“Tell me I can fuck you.” It’s not a plea, not with the harsh rasp of his voice. But it’s as close as you’ve heard, as he swipes the tip against your leaking pussy.

Smearing your slick on him, teasing at your waiting hole.

You don’t know how he’s hard again, but at the moment you really don’t care. Not sure if you’ve ever felt a need like this, your back arching further as you present yourself to him.

A twist of your neck, so your eyes can meet his.

“Fuck me, Logan.”

He groans, broad hands squeezing at your ass. Slipping up to sink his fingers into the flesh at your hips. Holding you steady as he lines himself up.

Your breath held, when you feel his cock start to breach you - muscles stringing tight.

“Relax, sweetheart,” He grits out, though not unkindly, “You can take it.”

Trying to hold himself back from filling you with a single thrust, with the way you’re already gripping him.

Easing himself into your heat. Two inches forward and then one back, and with each one you think you’ll feel the press of his thighs against yours. A low whine as your cunt makes room for him, that sharp stretch as it feels like he’s reaching into your belly.

Feeling full when he finally is flush, the weight of his sack kissing against your clit. His shoulders following the curve of your back, as a hand slips up to plant next to your head.

“Feels fucking incredible,” It’s mumbled against your skin, almost as if it hadn’t meant to say it.

“Mm,” You grin, your face tipping up to his, “Should’ve met you weeks ago.”

He smirks, a low sound in his throat as his mouth presses to yours. Starting a slow rhythm that drags his cock against your walls. Slipping until he’s halfway out, only to sheath himself again. Pushing the air from your lungs as he flattens himself, knees digging into the bed as your thigh spread wider - forcing him deeper.

It’s almost too much.

You hand shoots out, reaching. Wrapping around his wrist, nails biting against his skin.

It feels like he’s surrounding you. Each thrust a heavy weight that presses you into the bed. Splitting you open, until all you can do is squirm beneath him.

That pressure in your belly building again, as his hips pound. His breath, hot and panting in your ear as he chases his own end.

“Fuck, Logan.” You sob, “Harder-”

His tendons flex under your grip. Knuckles pressing flat against the sheets as he makes a rough sound in his throat.

Those claws unsheathing with his next thrust. Punching down into your mattress. Anchoring as he loses himself to the feel of you beneath him.

How tight and wet and warm you are, your arousal still sweet on his tongue. Fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your throat, as everything tightens up inside him.

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, rasped out.

“Come in me,” You whine, “Wanna feel you.”

He does growl then, at the thought of filling you to the brim, until he's leaking out of your pretty little pussy. Hips snapping faster, pinning you to the bed as he ruts into you. Each squeak of the bed paired with the sharp rip of fabric as his claws dig in.

Feeling how your body strings tight beneath him, how you clench down in anticipation. Wanting to feel you once more, before he gives in to his own desires.

“Come on, baby,” It’s hushed, murmured against your skin, “Fuckin’ give it to me-”

The sharp point of a canine scraping against your skin, his groan rough and throaty in your ear.

Your fingers work down to wedge themselves between your thighs. The tips brushing where you’re speared open, before circling your clit like his tongue had.

He has you mindless. Fucked out - that soft glow from your earlier orgasm shining bright as he tips you towards a second.

Burning at that tightly wound thread inside you, until the ends fray, and then snap.

It has you coming with his next thrust. A wail ripped from you as he buries himself deep, feeling the way your pussy clenches down around him.

Fingers still swirling, drawing out the deep pulses that fan out from your core as your toes curl, vision going hazy.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” He rasps, those sharp thrust slowing to a sloppy grind, “Make a fucking mess for me, there you go-”

Panting, as he groans. Another roll of his hips before he’s coming with you - teeth bruising skin as they sink into your shoulder. The sound he makes is broken as he spills into you, muscles clenching with each pulse that paints your walls.

Marking you thoroughly with teeth and come, the saw of his hips slowing until you both finally go still. A breath finally caught.

Blissed out, when he rolls you both to the side. His thighs still mapping yours, cock still notched deep. A thick arm thrown across your waist, his breath ragged in your ear as he catches his breath.

Your fingers drift, as you bask in your afterglow. Dipping into the rips in your mattress, knuckle deep.

There’s a grunt as you wiggle, the words low in your ear, “I’ll get you another, sweetheart. Just lost control for a moment.”

The thought doesn’t bother you as much as you’d think. In fact, you wouldn’t mind if happened again.

Only as your imagination runs wild, do you hear the muffled moan from the brick wall behind you.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Dramatic and drawn out, paired with faint rhythmic noise.

A beat - before you hear mumbled protesting. The voice of someone talking with their mouth full, “No. Back the fuck off Peter, I’m not going to share.”

Eating. The fucker was eating his end of the bargain, ear pressed to the wall.

The next louder, “Alright, pay up everyone, Operation ‘Get Sugar Some Sugar’ was a success!”

You grimace, eyes rolling. Logan grunts behind you, the words mumbled out sleepily.

“Wish I could sew that goddamn mouth shut.”

There’s a faint “they already tried that!” before Logan’s fist bangs on the wall, shutting him up.

But you can’t help the smile. Your fingers fitting between the ones that rest just below your breasts, squeezing.

“He’s not so bad,” You admit, “Wade, I mean.”

Logan groans, “Don’t say his name while I’m fucking you.”

“You’re-” You start - but then you can feel him.

Still hard - as his hips cant slowly against yours. Your joined hands slip up to cup a breast - as his lips press against your neck, stubble scraping you skin.

“Again?” You breathe, disbelieving that he’d be up for a third time - your hips rocking back to meet his. The sound lewd with how he drips from you - but it only has him grinding himself deeper, “You sure you’re two hundred?”

“Regenerative powers, sweetheart.” Logan husks, the flash of teeth with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t say it doesn’t come with perks.”

I used to have the biggest fucking crush on wolverine, haha - so fun to watch a new movie with him!! 👀💕 thank you so much for reading! And please me know if you'd like to read any more for him! (like more one-shots,etc!)

#phew this got away from me - i can't remember the last time I wrote this much in 2 days #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader

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candybunnieholic · 21 days

Text

It’s freaking 9am in the morning and my little brother is either watching news or listening to some podcast while I’m trying to sleep which is hard to do because our room are close to each other so I can hear everything since it’s not the first time but at least it wasn’t loud music.

#random stuff #vent post #don’t get me wrong I care about my little brother but this is getting really annoying now #my insomnia get bad sometimes and I can’t even go back to sleep after waking up #but apparently fuck how I feel because he’s going to do whatever the heck he wanted to do and I don’t want to get into argument with him #so I tried to ignored it since I’m able to sleep through loud noises most of the time #I’m so mad right now #also don’t get me started on his ex who he keeps bringing back here #I get that their relationship wasn’t the perfect like anyone can see that #anyway I just wanted to sleep without loud news or music blasting #l know that I should’ve go and tell him to turned it down #however he loves to argument and I’m trying my best to not cursed out #delete later

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tonycries · 1 month

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You'll Taste Me Too! - G.S.

Synopsis. How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, office AU, enemies to lovers, jealousy (Gojo’s side), FAKE DATING, PAST Naoya x reader, creampíes, breéding, oraI (fem receiving), spítting, hot springs, cúmplay, DOWN BAD Satoru, tensíon, he’s a bit mean, revenge on your ex, ambiguous office work, exhíbitionísm, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 11.9k (this was supposed to be HALF that)

A/N. This type of annoying Gojo is always so fun to write, hope y’all have a great week <3

In all your three years as head of the marketing department, it wasn’t any of the tight deadlines or the nervous interns that drove you crazy. Hell, it wasn’t even the fact that the coffee maker in the break room only made tea.

No, the one thing you couldn’t stand - the one thing that had you contemplating whether your transfer was really worth it - came in the form of the 6’3, cloudy-haired manchild who headed the sales department.

The one person who’d made it his personal mission to toy with your sanity as soon as you’d stepped foot into the cleancut office of Jujutsu Enterprises.

The bane of your existence.

“Gojo Satoru.”

“Huh?” you gape stupidly, and if this was any other time you’d have smacked yourself for the unprofessionalism.

Yaga nods gravely - almost sympathetic - as if he honestly couldn’t fault you for your reaction. “Yes, since this upcoming contract relies heavily on collaboration between the marketing and sales departments, Satoru here-” He nods at the tangle of long limbs that’d been draped dramatically over the seat right next to you. “-will be accompanying you on your trip to Kyoto…unfortunately.”

“What do you mean ‘accompanying’-”

“The fuck do you mean ‘unfortunately’-”

Your supervisor heaves out a tired sigh over your flurry of protests, rubbing his temples, “Look, I wouldn’t have picked out your ah- duo either. But as heads of department, you two are the best and brightest we have. And the board believes we can snag the infamous Gakuganji and his protegé easily as clients with the combination of you both.”

“But-” you sputter out. “Can’t I go with Nanami like I usually do? Surely he’s a better option than a pompous, no-good nepo-”

“And I’d rather go alone.” Gojo cuts through smoothly, flashing a cocky wink your way. “Sorry, sweetheart, but even my charm won’t be enough to stop you from scaring that client off.”

Fuck unprofessionalism. If looks could kill, the leveled glare you shoot the man at your side is enough to bury him six feet and have you dancing on his grave already.

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Now fully facing Gojo for the first time since you’d first entered Yaga’s stuffy office, “Oh yeah, and aren’t you the one that got reprimanded for sleeping through the last company meeting we had?”

“D-did not.” his cheeks tinge with a delicate strawberry pink.

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.” you scoff, brows furrowing when you realize you’ve inched just a bit closer than appropriate. Your knees knocking against his, yet you don’t pull away out of stubborness. “What? Too embarrassed to admit your oh-so-great ‘charm’ was in the pillows?”

Almost mockingly, he’s copying your posture, tight white shirt straining over those biceps he didn’t hesitate to infuriatingly flex any time you came around. Minty breath wafting over your cheeks when he leans in to murmur lowly - just loud enough that Yaga won’t question, “No, but you would be happy to know that it is in the sheets.”

You blink, though, you can’t really be too surprised - of course, Gojo turns the conversation into something so filthy. He always does.

But before you can spit out a few venomous expletives you really would regret saying in front of Yaga, the man himself interrupts your argument with a pointed cough. “Since the chemistry is as lively as ever,” he’s deadpanning dryly. “I take it you both will be on your best behavior for these three days, and come back with a signed contract.”

Chemistry your ass.

And though he’s addressing you both, you feel a stab of smug satisfaction when Yaga’s gaze lock with an amused Gojo’s.

“Mhm, of course we’ll come back successful - how could you not with the star employee on this trip.” he motions airily in your direction. You stiffen, not expecting the compliment when- “And of course our cute resident hardass will be there, too.”

“You little fu-”

“Great!” Yaga claps his hands, a signal you knew meant to get the hell out of his office before he assigns more overtime. “It’s settled then, your tickets have been booked for tomorrow and I assume you both have been emailed the appropriate information?”

Nodding, you make your way to leave - and find that Gojo is waiting, glass door to the office held open for you. With a sharp click of your tongue, you bite down on whatever words come to your throat, barely out of the office before you hear a tired warning behind you, “And please don’t try to kill each other, our insurance doesn’t cover it.”

When you’re both out in the hallway, Gojo flashes you a cocky smirk and an even cockier “You heard the man.” Pointing at his unfairly pretty features - not that you’d admit that in a million years. “After all, my face is insured but who’d want to hurt this handsome-”

“I could.” You interrupt, rolling your eyes. “Easily. And I would, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that this job pays well.” Something you say every time he prances around in your department during breaks, bragging about how you’re “all bark but no bite.”

Satoru only chuckles, raising his hands up in surrender when you continue, “Let’s just get through these three days, ace the contract, and never speak of this again. Okay?”

To your surprise, he’s grabbing one of your hands with his much larger ones - soft, you gulp, noting involuntarily. “I like what goes on in that pretty lil’ brain of yours, silly girl. Then, let’s charm the asses off that dumbass client and the board of elders~”

Everyone in the office knew of the strange little dynamic between you two - found it to be the utmost entertainment they got in the workday. But you were damned if you let it mess up this contract.

If you two survived the entire three days, that is.

---

You two were not surviving the entire three days - or the contract deal, for that matter. Hell, you couldn’t even survive this first day.

“Gojo I told you.” you squint at the glossy paper. “It says platform eight. I know you can’t see without those ugly sunglasses of yours but-”

A big arm comes up suddenly behind your shoulders, snatching the train ticket clean out of your hands. Gojo lets it rest there as he exclaims, “Let me see. Now, y’know if this was me, I’d have chosen Gran class. Ichiji in finances really skimped out buying these second class seats, gonna hafta have a word with him when we get back…”

You narrow your eyes, frantically trying to push back that strange part of you that almost wanted to lean in closer to the hit of his piney, expensive cologne. “Have fun bullying him, you leech.”

To which he only responds with a syrupy giggle, “Oh, don’t worry.” And you let out a tiny gasp when he flicks your forehead softly. “You’ll be right there in first class with me. Even with that bratty attitude of yours, the ladies love those Gojo perks.”

“Mhm explains why you’ve been single for all three years I've had the misfortune of knowing you.” you hiss, eyes desperately darting about for directions to platform eight. You were going to get on this train - with or without him. Preferably without him.

So absorbed in your mission that if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that Gojo’s words were a pitch higher than normal when he retorts with a strangled, “S-so what? Keepin’ an eye on me, sweetheart?”

And you knew the two of you definitely looked like a peculiar sight - Gojo’s dangling off of you like a ragdoll, surrounded by the few comically large suitcases that were mainly his. So much for a three-day work trip. Your face burns at the few weary salary workers that gave the two of you a very wide berth while going about their daily commutes. Fuck, you couldn’t even ask anyone for help at this point if you both looked at like some safety hazard.

“Did you find it?” You huff when the silence lingers a bit too long - jumping when you raise your head up to find his burning stare already inches away from you. “God- I take it back, please keep those glasses on.”

“Hey!”

You’re digging your elbow into his side now, words stumbling over the other in a heated hurry, “And get- get off we’re gonna miss this-”

“It really is you, huh?”

All at once, you’re reminded that strangely it isn’t just the two of you causing ruckus in the middle of the Shinjuku station. Unfortunately.

Any and all previous irritation at Gojo wipes away, flooding back as full, unbridled rage when you’re tearing your eyes away from the nuisance beside you to look up and-

Oh.

Dammit, you knew you’d recognize that grating voice anywhere - and for the first time, it wasn’t Gojo’s.

“Naoya.”

“You.”

Still didn’t even have the decency to address you properly, huh? You bite your lower lip, unaware what to say next. But luckily you didn’t have to - because Gojo is standing up straighter, features smoothing into a mask of cool appraisal when he sweeps his eyes down at the other man.

Finally, Naoya seems to notice him. Flickering quickly between the arm still firmly around your shoulder and his darkened stare. “And who are you?”

“Could ask ya the same thing, two-tone.” he smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. And you swear you could feel the soft pads of his fingers tightening, digging in through your silky work shirt. “What business do you have with us?”

Us - you didn’t miss the emphasis.

Evidently, Naoya didn’t either, because his tone turns into a low, dangerous simper as he continues. “What? Can’t a man come up just to catch up with a fling?”

Gojo’s jaw clenches as he watches you register the word. Fling. Sure, after about a year of dating, the two of you didn’t have the cleanest break up - with the constant fights and him wanting to uproot your life and dream career with his new job transfer. But still.

“Of course, he can.” Gojo raises a snowy brow, buttons on his shirt straining when he puffs his chest out ever-so-slightly. You can’t help but notice that he has much more than a few inches on your ex. Gruffing out, “But not when she’s with her new boyfriend.”

Boyfriend?

You freeze the word running around over and over in your hazy mind - boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend-

“And trust me, she’s long forgotten your sorry ass.” You’re jolting back to reality only when you feel the slow, soothing glide of Gojo’s thumb at the exposed skin of your shoulder. He looks down at you with that familiar mirthful smile to say, “Isn’t that right, my girl?”

“Ah uh-” you’re mentally kicking yourself for not choosing to attend those acting lessons in college for extra credit. Coughing out what you hope to be a believable, “Yeah, this is G-Satoru, my- my boyfriend.”

But your coworker takes it all in concerning stride, pulling you flush against his toned chest, rumbling with the muse of “Mhm, and we’re very happy together.” You honestly feel like you’re about to fall weakly to your knees right then and there in the station when you feel the distinct pressure of two soft, plump lips grazing fleetingly at your forehead. Murmuring into your hairline, “Going on a couples’ trip to Kyoto this very moment, in fact.”

“I see.” Naoya levels out, and by the sharp glint in his eyes you already knew the gears on his head were turning. But before you could question him any further, the melodic voice of the railway announcer cuts through the tense air. “Ah- that’s me. And as pleasant as this reunion was, Kurama onsen doesn’t wait.” Before clapping a hand on the shoulder of the uncharacteristically silent Gojo stood by your side, “I wish you the best with your relationship, she’s only good the first few times after all.” His next words are cold and directed at you. “I’ll text ya, if you still don’t have me blocked, that is.”

Saved by the train - and your fist gripping onto Gojo’s button-up, Naoya saunters to climb aboard the train currently entering the nearby platform.

Leaving the both of you in that whirling, unfamiliar silence. Gojo’s arm is still burning around your shoulder, your muscles still aching from stopping him from powerfully lunging after the other man.

You break first.

“Why…why did you do that.” you mutter over the bustling crowds - more to yourself than him, so you’re surprised when he responds just as hastily.

“It’s just- Because he was a dick.” Gojo’s lips form a petulant pout. He decidedly avoids your probing eyes while he plows on, “And I should be the only one allowed to be a dick to you so don’t get it twisted, silly girl.”

You scoff, before your eyes widen at where Noaya was boarding through the doors of the sleek bullet train, “Wait- Gojo-”

“Satoru, think I deserve to be called ‘Satoru’ after that.” he grins irritatingly. “Consider it a payment since it’ll kill ya to say it every time.”

“Yes yes, S-Satoru-” you wave off, but you can’t deny how easily the name rolls off your tongue. And distinctly, you wondered why you called most of your coworkers by first name, but never him before. “He’s going to Kurama onsen.”

Gojo tilts his head, nose scrunching in confusion. “And?”

“We’re going to Kurama onsen.”

---

For all the disaster the first day had wrecked upon your sanity, you were thankful enough that neither of you were sat in the same area as Naoya. Barely even settling into your cushioned seat before putting on your headphones - and a sleeping mask for good measure so you couldn’t be riled up by your coworker again.

Surprisingly he didn’t try either. Only bothering you to share his snacks occasionally, and hog the arm space on your chair, electricity running down your skin every time he brushed up against you.

It was quiet, somehow neither of you minded.

“Hah- are we- woah.” you gasp out after the short walk from the Kyoto station to your destination, an intricate wooden sign coming into view. Lugging your baggage with you - Gojo had insisted he carry it too as a show of strength, but you were sure it’s because he just wanted to give up halfway through and take a taxi instead. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah yeah I get that a lot.” Gojo comes up behind you without warning, a sultry trickle of sweat trailing down his forehead to the forbidden depths of where he’d unbuttoned his shirt a few times. “But usually it’s ‘gorgeous’ or ‘hot as hell’ or-”

“Oh, shut up.” you breathe, ripping your eyes away and towards the reception. “Get your ass moving now, we’ve gotta get checked in and form a game plan for the meeting.”

“That eager to get me in a bed? Always knew ya had it in you, sweetheart.” Oh, he lets out a shiver at your blazingly dirty look. “I mean- yes, ma’am.”

There aren’t too many visitors, and you choose to do the talking when you walk up to the sweet older lady at the reception, having decided that Gojo has done way too much of that for today. Humming, “Hi there, we’re here for two rooms reserved under the name ‘Yaga’?”

A few taps of her keyboard and she’s flashing you a megawatt smile, “Oh yes, you’re right on time!” Before getting up from her seat, “I’ll be the one escorting the young couple to their honeymoon suite. Just this way-”

And while Gojo breezes past you without a single complaint, you stand frozen in the middle of the cozy wooden room. Reaching out a hand to sputter, “W-wait, surely there must be some mistake? Honeymoon suite?”

Gojo is close enough that he whispers something in her ear, and you already know it doesn’t bode well for you at all.

“Oh honey don’t worry.” she flutters a flustered hand at you. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having your dear boyfriend here spend a bit extra on a comfy suite. Either way, it has been booked for a while now and unfortunately nothing can be changed…”

Forgetting yourself, you sneak a glance over at where she had left her desktop on. The tiny letters on screen confirming that yes, this reservation was under the name Yaga. And no, it wasn’t a mistake that the room you were given was a honeymoon suite.

“Get your ass movin’ now.” Gojo’s voice snaps you out of your little reverie, sounding as if he was on the verge of bursting into laughter while he mocks your earlier words. He grins, “When life gives you lemons- or when Yaga gives you a honeymoon suite…”

---

“Dibs not on the couch.”

“Dibs not on the- wait, no.” Gojo huffs when you’re finally led to your sprawling room, and for all the scandal of it being a honeymoon suite, you have to admit that Yaga had great taste. “Shouldn’t you treat your boyfriend better?”

You’re splaying yourself out on the plush mattress of the bed - the only bed, because of course the universe doesn’t bestow you with a normal work trip. But god none of those cheap motels at the trips you’d gone on with Nanami or Shoko could ever compare to this.

Mindfully, you push away the rose petals decorating the silken sheets. “Not my problem.” Jutting a thumb towards the small private hot spring allocated for your room outside, “Sleep in the onsen. Might wanna hurry though, it’s getting dark.”

“Please?”

“I’m kicking you out of this room altogether.”

“Pretty please.”

You feel a rush of begrudging endearment at the way he’s batting his long lashes at you. Suddenly, you’re wondering whether this is why so many at the office can’t get enough of Gojo - why everyone flocks to him as soon as he waltzes into your department for no apparent reason. Struggling to stand firm. “Hasn’t Nanami told you before that adding ‘pretty’ doesn’t work?”

Grumbling, he sets down the bags, swiftly turning around to call out, “Fine, but m’takin’ a shower first, so you better keep any expensive shampoos away or m’stealing with no regrets.”

Mind dizzy with everything from today, it’s all you can do to shuffle through your bag for your laptop. Trembling fingers deciding that if you weren’t going to think too deeply about this, might as well get some work done.

It’s what you do for a while - to partial success - until you’re pulled out of your spiels of presentations and trying to keep Gojo’s script on subject by the sound of the running water stopping, and the bathroom door clicking open.

And lo and behold - there stood Gojo. Shirtless.

The very same asshole that would throw paper clips at you during meetings, and always finished off the last muffin in the break room he knew you’d been eyeing all day. Here he stood - all sharp hip bones and smooth curves of muscle that were always poorly covered by his work clothes.

Covering almost all of the bathroom doorway with his broad shoulders, speckled with glistening droplets of water that danced tauntingly down, down, down the sharp planes of his collarbones. Down his abs, and onto a trail of white, hidden by a fluffy white towel you have to force your eyes away from.

“Put some- put some clothes on. You- you-” you’re scrambling urgently for something near you, which unfortunately happened to be a soft cotton you’d pulled out from your bag earlier. “-you lecher.”

Wordlessly, Gojo’s stunned surprise breaks into a brilliant grin when he unfolds the canon of cloth you’d thrown his way. Humming, “You call me a lecher, but you’re the one that wants to see me in your clothes, huh?”

And sure enough - it was. It was as if the universe was playing a practical joke on you because it was your favorite t-shirt, in fact, that ragged Bleach graphic held gently between Gojo’s long, pale fingers.

You choke out, hastily getting off the bed. “Wait- I take it back.”

“I don’t know.” Gojo teases, holding the t-shirt well over your head. And all you can do is frantically reach and swerve for it, each attempt dodged with a shit-eating grin. “You get the bed, I get this ratty t-shirt, seems like a fair trade to me, no?”

“No.”

Gojo’s face is hovering so close above yours, though, he still keeps the t-shirt safely away from you. “Then I guess this is f’me, silly girl.”

You groan, appreciating the way his breath catches in his throat when you hook an arm around his neck. Reeling him in so close while you still swipe, “No, but what you are going to get is-”

What Gojo was going to get, he never finds out. Because in your frantic effort to steal back the t-shirt you so desperately didn’t want in the hands of the bastard from sales, you don’t pay attention to that slippery pool of water forming around you two from his half-assed attempts at drying off.

And before you know it, you’re lurching to the floor - you wince, arms held out to break your fall and-

It never happens.

Blinking your eyes open, the first thing you’re met with is what seems like miles upon miles of milky, smooth skin. Breathing in such a heady scent, it’s probably what makes your mind so melty when the realization hits you - a little too late - that you’re being held against Gojo’s chest.

His painfully bare chest.

“Satoru?” you breathe. Pawing at where you could feel his racing heartbeat, thumping so painfully against one of his pecs. “Are- are you okay?”

That gets you a hot laugh into your neck, followed by a long, drawn-out shudder that sends shivers down your spine. Through laughs, he manages to grit out, “You’re asking me that?”

He sounds surprised - relieved almost. Such a tender note in his tone at the lack of usual taunting in your words.

Gojo lets you go - barely, still keeping two strong arms locked around your waist like he was afraid even the slightest distance could have you in danger all over again. “You can take the t-shirt.” He breathes, picking up the damp fabric now fallen onto the floor and pressing it into your palms. “I’m more of a Naruto guy anyway. And you can take the bed, I was jok-”

“You can take it.”

“What? No-”

“You can.” you cut him off, giving a sidelong glance at the cramped couch tucked into a corner of your suite. Again, you’re drinking in all of him, how tall he was. How warm. How he’d probably have half his body dangling off the side of the cushions, “We can- I mean we can share. We’re adults, right? Wouldn’t want you complaining about a sore back during the contract talks anyway.”

“Worrying about me, sweetheart?”

“No.” you scowl, pushing him away. “Now excuse you, but I have to use the bathroom since someone was hogging it earlier.”

And if you’d waited just a moment longer - maybe peaked your head out instead of scurrying inside as fast as your legs carried you - you’d have noticed that Gojo was still standing there. A fist clenched at where his heart was, face as pink as those blooming sakura outside.

---

You didn’t sleep that night. Not one bit.

It might partially have to do with the fact that your bed was invaded by one very gangly asshole sprawling himself all over the pillow wall you’d constructed. Or maybe to do with the aching discomfort in your joints after moving to sleep on the hard couch after only a few minutes of him getting knocking out.

“Good morning~” Gojo’s sing-song voice rings through your verging murderous thoughts on the second day. “The sun is shining, my skin is glowing and-” His bleary eyes lock on your hunched figure across the room, looking genuinely confused as to how you got here. “-you’re on the couch?”

“Yeah. Considered taking ya out in your sleep but then I realized the contract would be in jeopardy.”

He whines, “I’ve- I’ve never had anyone complain before.”

“They probably ran away before that.” you nod solemnly over his sputtering complaints. Stretching, content with the pop of your bones. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t that bad.”

You look away when Gojo mimics your actions, sleep shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of white tufts at the hem of his boxers. He pouts, sulky eyes still locked on you, “But still, should’ve kicked me out. I would’ve expected you to instead of taking that shitty couch. Seems like something that guy would do.”

Your heart pangs - just a bit - and you let out a sharp laugh, “Fine, I’ll kick you out tonight. Maybe.” It’s genuine, it really is, and in the growing silence all Gojo can manage to do is fall back into your little familiar dance of teasing.

“Going soft on me? Y’know it’s usually the ladies crawling into my bed not out of it-”

“Oh fuck you. I take it back, I will kick you out of the room itself. Have fun sleeping in the onsen, you smug bastard.”

He squawks in protest when you throw a cushion at him. Several, actually, just for good measure. “Mercy, woman! I’m delicate!”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

When Gojo falls back into the comfort of the silky soft sheets, you heave out a sigh. Making your way to the sliding doors, still fully expecting a flustered employee telling you that this was all a mistake and of course, you two weren’t booked for the honeymoon suite.

“Yes?” you answer, eyes widening when you spot that familiar man in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh god, it’s you.” Naoya spits, gaze heating up. “Of course, I should’ve known it’s you and that idiot boyfriend of yours makin’ so much noise next door.”

Great. Perfect. Wonderful. As if this trip couldn’t get any better.

You pinch your nose, echoing hollowly, “What do you want?”

“Exactly that. Don’t make so much noise, neighbor. I don’t care what limp dick he’s giving you-”

“Is that all?” you ask dryly, fully knowing there’s more he’s just aching to hurl at you. Before tucking yourself further behind the door, “If that’s all then I hafta go back to that ‘limp dick’.”

“What’s this about limp dick?” Goosebumps run along your arms when you feel something soft - hot - push up from behind you. From the corner of your eye, you spy a long milky hand flex as Gojo - shirtless - cages you in the doorway, “Because it sure can’t be mine then. Won’t you agree, my girl?”

Your face burns at the knowing wink Gojo throws your way, barely managing to hasten, “Uh- yeah.”

“She doesn’t sound very convinced.” Naoya narrows his eyes at your minute expressions, knowing you uncomfortably well after so long. “Guess she’s been missing a real man, huh?”

He scoffs, and you gulp heavily when soft lips kiss a gentle trail up the side of your neck, “Well who’s the one that’s been makin’ her scream all mornin’?” Gojo tilts his head innocently, blatantly showing off a ruddy splotch from where you’d attacked him with a cushion earlier, the zipper leaving a suspicious mark. “Like I said at the train station, she can make her own choices and she’s long forgotten your sorry ass so don’t even try it, you two-toned little bastard.”

Wrapping a possessive arm around your waist, you’re easily tugged back into the safety of your suite - and into Gojo’s sculpted front. You don’t push him away as your immediate thought was to, the feeling was right - too right.

“Satoru?” you hiss once the door is slammed shut.

“Hm?” he whispers hotly into the crook of your neck.

Still pressed up so close that you can feel the surge and dip of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. “Why are you shirtless?”

“Uh- did I ever tell you I was a method actor, sweetheart?”

---

Unfortunately, despite being in one of the most picturesque hotspots that Kyoto had to offer, a work trip - especially one with such a high profile client and his protegé - meant that the two of you spent most of the day cooped up in your room, typing away on your laptops.

“Ugh, this sucks.” Gojo groans for about the seventh time this hour. Running a hand tiredly through his hair, “Are you always such a hardass about contracts like this? Honestly, I can’t even feel my legs and it is not in the good way-”

“You pussy.” you grumble as you chug down another can of coffee, eyes flickering to the clock at the end of the room reading 11:00PM. “You don’t see me complaining.”

He only scoffs, “Of course ya wouldn’t complain, this shit probably gets you off. But unfortunately for those of us that have lives-”

You click your tongue, rubbing the oncoming headache that always seems to appear when you’re near Gojo. “Yeah, because talkin’ out of your ass and being a public nuisance is such a great life.”

“C’mon now, I see you picking at that blanket - my blanket, by the way - like it insulted your entire bloodline. You’re not slick, you wanna get outta here too.” At your pointed silence, he’s kicking his legs in the air, very much the toddler you knew him to be. “That’s- that’s it I can’t-”

Before you can react, Gojo is barrelling through the sliding doors of your suite. Long legs carrying up the short pathway that led to that private hot spring.

You’re following him before you realize it, “What- what are you- oh!”

You couldn’t cover your eyes fast enough. Being gifted with a brief, obscene eyeful of pale skin - leading all the way down his naked back, and even further when he cannonballs straight into the pool of water.

Shit, maybe this was why the others at the office loved him so much.

And it was hard not to understand it when Gojo’s drenched head poked out from under the hot water. White strands plastered to his forehead, a blush creeping down his skin at the head, looking at you with slightly-red, damp eyes that only seemed bluer through the steam.

“Yeah yeah I know I didn’t rinse before and I know I didn’t finish our project yet but-” he grins a grin that you don’t think you could ever forget. And you don’t know whether how hot you feel is from the onsen or him. Reaching out a soaked, strong arm towards you. “-won’t you help me get out?”

You startle, clearly not having expected this request. Narrowing your eyes suspiciously as you inch closer, “Get out?” He nods eagerly, fingers intertwining softly with yours. “Fine but-”

Whatever scream you might’ve let out is swallowed up by water- then air.

Then more very deserved yelling, of course. “Satoru what the fuck-” Your nails dig into his deltoids, sure to leave some very questionable marks but you didn’t care at this moment. Wiping away the water in your face while he holds you up easily, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Yeah yeah, can’t kill me when you’re clinging to me like this, sweetheart.” Gojo rolls his eyes, but he makes no move to push you off. In fact, he only tightens the arm around your hips. “You looked like you needed that, the 8 hours of straight working like Yaga was havin’ you act like him.”

Somehow, you don’t feel strange about the fact that you’re being pushed up against a very painfully naked Gojo. Living out what is probably the wet dream for about half the office.

He notices, of course he does.

“Trynna take a peek?” Gojo wiggles his brows. And when you’re trying to hide away behind your hands, he nuzzles them away, arms a bit too occupied holding you captive. Sighing dramatically, “No need to be shy, many people do. I don’t mind of course, ah the woes of being fucking hot.”

Gasping, “Fuck you.” Unbeknownst as to why, you’re laughing. Contemplating whether you should really give him a good kick down below when you choke out, “You’re an asshole, y’know?”

“I know.” he smiles. “N’ yet you still haven’t drowned me.”

“I really fuckin’ hate you.”

Why could you really fucking kiss him right now?

“I know.”

The moment is broken only a few seconds later by some ungodly screeching you recognize to be none other than your beloved ex’s from next door. Yelling about “Shut the fuck up, if you’re gonna have onsen sex I’m calling the front lobby.”

“What? Can’t a man fuck his girl in peace?” Gojo shouts back. “Shut up just because your puny dick can’t get some, two-tone.”

That broke whatever magical spell was put on the two of you, obviously. And you were the first to run back to the suite - leaving Gojo and his nakedness alone. Very, very alone.

He takes a bit longer to follow you, and you’re already freshened up and in bed by the time he makes his way to the bathroom - with clothes this time, fortunately for your sanity.

Only a few minutes later, he’s nestling right next to you on the bed. You gasp in a sharp inhale at the heat of his proximity, mere millimeters away from you now.

“Good work today, by the way.” Gojo gruffs out to your turned back, quiet words carrying over that ridiculous extra-vaulted wall of pillows, padded up with ones from the couch, too. Silver tongue stumbling over his words slightly, “For how much I complained I didn’t get to tell ya. You and I - mainly I - are gonna ace that contract tomorrow.”

There’s no taunting in his tone, not one bit. And you surprise the both of you when you murmur out shakily, “I’m worried.”

“Huh?” he chokes in disbelief. “Listen, I know I slept through that meeting one time, but I swear it was only one time. I’m a…somewhat changed man, I promise I won’t-”

“Not that.”

He pauses at your interruption. All is quiet - only the chirping of crickets outside, and the steamy buzz of nearby hot springs.

And for the first time in the twenty-something years Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc upon this Earth, he is rendered speechless. Wordlessly picking apart your wall of pillows - one by one, as if to give you more than enough time to stop him - to loop two strong arms around you.

“Shut up.” he breathes. “You’ll do brilliant, silly girl.”

---

Gojo remembers the exact date he met you - probably the exact time, too. Honestly, even three whole years after that initial meeting, he can’t remember anything but that, if you asked him to recall a single meeting held that week then Gojo honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell you.

It was a regular day spent driving poor Nanami over in the marketing department dangerously close to his fifth migraine of the day.

“You know I know I’m a valuable asset to this company Nanamin.” he chuckles, looking over where the other man was readying a sparkly Welcome! banner. “But this is all too much even for me~”

“It’s not for you.” Nanami spits, curtly. Barely sparing Gojo a glance before readying the welcome muffins, “It’s for the new head of department arriving soon today.”

And oh that piqued his interest like never before. That had all thoughts of the meeting he was currently missing flying out the window as he wondered what you would be like. Swiping away a few of those tempting muffins right out of Ichiji’s hands, he wonders. Would you be another Ichiji? Would you try and keep him under your thumb like Yaga? Hah, you could try but-

“Look I don’t know if the sales department doesn’t have food but, really?”

What?

A shudder wracks through the oh-so-great Gojo’s body at the sound of your cool, firm tone turning to meet the source and-

Oh. Oh wow. So that’s what it’s like to have your soul impaled and buried six feet under.

It was sort of addicting.

And if Gojo thought his knees were weak at just a gorgeous glare from you - well, he was completely and utterly unprepared for when he leaned in closer to where you stood firmly. Shielding a pale, trembling Ichiji. And, honestly, with a death stare like that you couldn’t blame a guy for getting nervous! It’s all he could do to hum out a cocky, “What? Want some, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart? What I want is you out of my department.” you furrow your brows. “Now.”

It’s all that’s said before you’re dragging him by his hand out - and, shit Gojo is so riveted by how soft your hands are that he almost forgets to be offended by the way the entire marketing department just watches and giggles at the scene playing out before them. Traitors.

You push him out of the door, “I better not see you coming back to toy with my new employees-” Heavy gaze flickering down to his name tag. “-Gojo.”

Ah, truly a woman of his dreams.

And it honestly still felt like a dream even now - especially now - when you’re stood in front of him on the third day in Kyoto. Fingers messing meticulously with your hair as you check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down your new red dress. “God, I hope it isn’t too much. How do I look?”

Perfect, he wants to say.

But instead he nudges your shoulder in the booth of your seat, settling for an obnoxious, “Alright, not as good as me, though.” Gojo takes delight in the way you give his arm a punch, smile a lot easier than before now.

“As if, you can’t even tie this properly. Here-” your fingers fiddle deftly with his slightly crooked tie. “Fixed it, you big baby.”

He grins, “If you wanted to get your hands on me then you should’ve- oh wait you already have, haven’t you? I remember that someone bypassed her own lil’ pillow wall last night.”

“Shut up.” you give him a tight warning. “They’re here.”

Honestly, there was only one thing worse than seeing old Gakuganji - that is, the sight of his sniveling protegé following him right after. Except-

“Two-tone?”

“Y-you!”

There’s a tense silence between the three of you in the exquisite onsen dining hall, one that almost makes you want to jump up and bolt back to your room because this can’t be real. Surely, this can’t be-

“I see the three of you are already acquainted?” Gakuganji’s strained, aged voice cuts through your whirlwind of thoughts. “Sit, sit, Naoya. That only makes things easier.”

As a fuming Naoya and an oblivious Gakuganji take their seats in front of the two of you, you feel the undeniable pressure of long, warm fingers squeezing your own. Reassuring. And it makes you flash the two men your best, most polished business smile, “So, about the contract.”

---

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Satoru.”

“No, I will throw up. And that will not be good for my reputation.”

“Satoru, if you throw up I’m beating your ass.”

He narrows his eyes at your heated whisper, matching you with a low, “Damn keep it for the bedroom sweetheart. We still hafta wait till Gakuganji comes back with his decision.”

“Ahem!”

It’s that annoyed, grating faux cough that drags you and Gojo out of your little world - back to reality in which no, unfortunately while your primary client has gone off to take an important business call regarding your contract, you were left to babysit his protegé.

“Yes, Naoya.” you give him a dry grin. It was nearing well into late night at this point, and most of the other visitors had cleared out except for the reserved table you were sitting in. “Do you want to be beat up, too?”

He only points an accusing finger at the two of you, “Don’t play games with me you hear. I’ve already got you figured out, coming here on a business trip and dating your coworker all the same-” Both you and Gojo raise a brow at this, what an idiot. “-you two will be fired for this.”

You catch Gojo’s eye and try not to burst out laughing, “As if. And trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I knew that you were Gakuganji’s new protegé.”

“Not because the guy you have to be here with is the same one you told me you hated back then?” he spits. “Honestly, you’d have been better off with me than this ‘pompous, no-good nepo baby asshole’ as you loved to put it.”

And you knew that Gojo was aware of your little rivalry - hell, he was an active participant, more than happy to rile you up every time. But that still didn’t stop you from tensing up when you spared a glance at the man beside you.

Surprised to see that unapologetic smirk on his face, “Of course she did.” Looking down at you with what you swore was such unimaginably deep fondness in his eyes. “I probably imagine she told you all the funny ways she wanted to get back at me, too? Banning me from the marketing department? Holding an anti-Gojo campaign? Strangling?” Gojo takes Naoya’s shocked silence as enough of an answer, “Guess what, she did hate me, probably still can’t stand me. Very understandably so, because she’s hot as fuck when she’s mad.”

Despite his furrowed brow and the angry slash of his mouth, Naoya can’t stop himself from blurting out, “W-well how did you-”

“We fuck it out, of course.”

And perhaps for the one time on this entire trip, the universe smiles down at you. You find yourself sighing in relief at the sight of Gakuganji nearing your table, evidently done with his phone call. Thank fuck, you weren’t ready for a fight to break out and this dress was too expensive to ruin.

“Seems you three are getting along well.” the old man drones out, and by the tone of his voice you genuinely can’t tell whether he was joking or not. Turning towards you and Gojo, “Well, after that very thorough presentation and careful consideration with the board at our Kyoto branch, we have all come to a unanimous decision.” You wait with bated breath for his next few words, “Where do we sign?”

Naoya stands in his seat, “But- but, sir.” He cringes, as furious as the last time you’d seen him a year ago. “You can’t sign off on this deal- not with these scumming, absolute little shits.”

“Naoya.” Gakuganji’s voice carries a warning. “You are dismissed.”

Ah, Gojo chuckles inwardly, exactly where he wanted him.

It seemed like a blur after that - a blur of signed contracts and Gojo making faces at an ashen-faced Naoya behind Gakuganji’s back, of being told that the two of you simply “must visit” their offices in Kyoto one day - much to your exes absolute torture. To which Gojo had replied with a smug, “Of course, my girlfriend and I will. Won’t we, sweetheart?” Just loud enough that Naoya - who’d been banned to a nearby table - could fume over.

And it’s how you found yourself pulling a giggly Gojo by his lapels back to your suite, hasty and desperate. Tripping over one another as you stumble in.

“Easy there on the merchandise, sweetheart.” he jests, but it sounds so strained even to him. “Can’t break our streak and kill each other on the last day now, can we?”

Your laughter dies down, “Hey, Satoru?”

“Oh no…”

“Why did you call me your girlfriend even at the end back then?”

His brows scrunch up, pleading almost. He chokes out, “Just- you- I just-” Flicking a calculated finger right in the middle of your forehead, “You think too much, did you know that? Hate to see this pretty face like this, did you see his reaction?”

“Oh my god yes did you see his face, Satoru?” you’re pressing him against the wall to steady yourselves. Feeling so drunk off the evening and him. “Naoya looked like he was going to explode right then and there. We did so good.”

“What did I tell, ya? I always know everything, silly girl.” Two big arms wrap around yours in a congratulatory hug - or, at least, what you think is a congratulatory hug. And if his palms dip just a bit lower than your waist - if this was just a bit inappropriate - neither of you say anything. “Mhm. Don’t even know what you dated that fool in the first place, he’s not even in your league.”

You scoff, “Gee thanks.”

“No no, not in that way, don’t ever think in that way, stupid.” A long index comes up to tilt your chin up to meet his greedy gaze. “You’re too gorgeous for him. Besides, he spoke like a man who couldn’t even find the clit.”

“Well- he did find it.” you relish in that deepening furrow of Gojo’s brow, the way the muscles in his jaw tick just right. “But wanna hear a secret?” Those soft baby hair at the nape of his neck raise when you’re whispering in his ear, barely even waiting for his dazed nod. “He still never made me cum.”

“...Never?”

“Never.”

There’s a beat of silence, one. Two.

Shit.

You’d long expected Gojo’s smart mouth to make some kind of insulting joke by now. And you’re halfway through wondering whether you’d overshared too much, untangling your arms from his vice-like embrace before-

“I would.” he rasps, breaths ragged. You’re tilting your head in confusion when he repeats cockily, “I would’ve made you cum, y’know. How could I not?”

There’s a snarky little part of you that makes you quick a brow, a sultry smirk playing on your lips. “Is that an offer?”

Gojo’s arms loop around you tight - almost too tight, you could almost hear your poor bones popping in protest. “It’s a promise.”

Oh that’s all you wanted to hear right about now. And he can fucking see the goosebumps that make their way down your exposed shoulders, he can practically hear that syrupy sweet tone that was really not good for his sanity.

“Prove it, Satoru.”

His lips are crashing against yours like they’re magnetized - and it’s nothing like what you’d imagine kissing Gojo Satoru would’ve been like. Nothing suave, shallow. It’s sloppy, a mess of teeth and lips and his tongue tasting every inch of your candied lips like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t even want to breathe for fear of losing out on your pretty mouth.

“Fuck-” Gojo hisses, delicate strings of spit snapping as he pulls away ever-so-slightly to take in the delicious sight of you all glossy eyed with swollen lips. “Fuck you’re so beautiful. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Kissing you over and over like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t want to get enough, you’re moaning when Gojo slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. Addicted to the distinct taste of him and those cheap cherry lollipops you always caught him sucking on in the break room.

He’s drawing back in a way that has him drinking in your soft noises, big palms kneading your body over your dress.

“Sa- Sato-” you’re gasping out when he flips you over to press you up against the wall. Assaulting your bruised lips with heated peck after peck. “What do you- mean-”

He groans, lips moving to kiss down the quivering column of your throat, “Shut up- Just shut up and kiss me. God, for how much I love that mouth of yours, you talk way too much, sweetheart.”

And that was really rich coming from him - but you don’t get to snark back at him. Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that Gojo decides he’s had enough of playing nice - that is, if he was in the first place.

Immediately fiddling towards that cold metal zipper in the back, gliding down the red fabric right along with your bra- shit, when did he even unclip it?

“You-” you sputter, the cool chill of the bedroom pebbles your sensitive nipples. The dawning feeling that this absolute thorn at your side might be much more than just talk has your thighs pressing together. Leveling him with a narrow look, “You are such a whore, aren’t you?”

He flashes you a sheepish grin, large palms groping your tits. “Would ya believe me if I told you it was from how many times I’d imagined this before?”

“Absolutely not.”

This earns you a sharp smack! gifted onto the fat of your ass, the five pads of Gojo’s fingers burning onto where your dress was hiking up.

“Always need to talk back, don’t you?” he spits, shoving a knee between your two legs. Such an innocently handsome grin splashing across his face at the soft moan you let out, grinding purposefully against that damp mound of your needy cunt. “Why won’t you ever hah- believe me?” He has one hand shoving your dress down, down, down. The other dragging your sloppy hips down his muscled thigh, “You wanna hear a secret? Stick your tongue out f’me like a good girl now, sweetheart.”

And oh you wanted to fight back. To outright refuse to comply so brattily, but it’s all you can do to nod blearily, feeling so fucking dirty with the way you’re letting your tongue loll out. Whining when Gojo smushes your cheeks together into an obscene pucker, into the perfect target for him to spit once. Twice.

“Yeah, take it- that’s my girl. A secret for a secret, right?” Gojo smiles so darkly, swiping away that thick splatter of syrupy saliva dredged up on the corner of your mouth. Intentional, of course. His words are low but clear, unable to have you mistaking them for anything else when he says, “That time I slept through the whole meeting? Wasn’t sleepin’.” He bites down on your earlobe, licking lightly. “S’just, I happened to see that cute new skirt you were wearing that day, it was so short- so fuckin’ tight. Couldn’t bear to show my face, not after I’d just spent the past few hours with my hand wrapped around my cock, wondering all the sweet things I could do to you in it.”

You’re gasping, “You’re so fucking filthy.”

“Yeah yeah.” he purrs, toying with the hem of your now dress, the red cloth now dangling somewhere at your thighs. “And don’t pretend you’re not just as dirty, hardass. Actin’ all prudish when ya dress like this underneath.”

As if to prove his point, the back of one of his fingers is gliding across where your lacy black panties were peeking out. Groaning at the sopping wet fabric, “Yeah, just as dirty as I thought.”

With his little hypothesis confirmed, it’s all that Gojo has to do to pick you up with one arm hooking under your already trembly thighs. You’re keening when he plants another solid smack on the fat of your ass, “Satoru!”

“Ohh, I love that. Say it again.” he murmurs, walking slowly to the edge of your shared bed. Savoring that feeling of your drooling cunt seeping through to paint a small dark patch on his suit. “I said, say it again.”

All it takes is another harsh slap against your ass, and a honeyed drag of Gojo’s name for him to splay you out like some slut on the soft silken sheets. You find yourself pulling him back by his broad shoulders when he takes the moment to admire just how gorgeous you looked. Even better than any daydream that mind of his could think of.

“Sa-toru-” you mewl, and he only licks his lips as if in a daze. Not knowing where to look - at that needy, already-cockdrunk glaze over your eyes, at the way your flimsy dress wrapped around the plush of your thighs, at that glistening little patch on the plump mound of your cunt. So mouthwatering. “Satoru- Sa- Toru!”

That makes him snap out of his little hypnosis. “What did you call me?” he breathes.

You bat your lashes deceivingly innocently up at him, “Sato-”

“No.” he’s cutting you off, Adam’s apple bobbing with the heavy gulp he takes. Thumbing at your puffy lips as if to drag the same words out of you - have them going straight to his achy cock once more. “That other one. Don’t play stupid with me, silly girl, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Oh, you did.

And you’re feeling the way your dripping pussy clenches with anticipation when you whine out that little nickname once more. “Toru, please.” Adding a little flair to have Gojo’s rosy lips fall into a soft oh! choking on a ragged low hiss when a hand of his subconsciously goes down to squeeze his bulging erection.

“Oh yes, m’name sounds so fuckin’ cute on your lips.” he groans. The sheets below you two rustling with movement when he shuffles urgently downwards, “Sounds so fucking good it makes me wanna-”

RIP!

“-know if she sounds it out just as pretty as you.”

You’re still reeling from the tatters of what remained of your favorite red dress being thrown unapologetically onto the tatami mats below. Huffing in irritation, “Satoru, if you’re ngh- dead if you don’t replace that-”

He’s shutting you up with another quiet smack onto your heated skin - this time at your shamefully spread inner thighs, the edges of his padded fingers just barely touching on your swollen folds. “Yeah yeah, I’ll buy ya the whole fuckin’ store if I have to.” Before hovering so close you could feel every hitch of his hot breath on your beading cunt, “And m’gonna make it so you don’t dare call me that again.”

You don’t have a response to that - and anything you might’ve taunted back is being knocked out of your mouth. The only thing leaving it being slurred little whimpers of Gojo’s name when he licks a long, languid stripe up your puffy slit.

“Oh, look at that.” he chuckles. Pushing apart your thighs to get a nice greedy look at every drop of your sweet sweet juices glistening in the dim lighting. “Think she’s more mouthy than you, if tha’s even possible, heh.”

His long, eager tongue is slurping up every syrupy drop of your slick. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“Fuck- Toru.” your fingers find their way weaving into his soft strands when the very tip of his soft tongue finds its way just past your folds. Arching your spine off the plush bed needily like some slut, “Need you to- hngh- go deeper.”

The only response you’re getting is a sultry, smug grin being spread across your pussy lips. Feeling everything from the quirk of his cupid’s bow, to that dimple at the edge of Gojo’s smirk, “Knew you were needy, but this- this is fucking amazing.”

“Guess you’re all bark no bite, huh?” you pout, voice teetering into teasingly whiny. And oh how you love the way that wipes all the cockiness from Gojo’s face. “Even Naoya was able to actually eat me out the way I-”

It’s like it killed him to hear those goading words from you - and something snaps before he’s shoving that pretty face of his back nose-deep into your addictive pussy.

Slotting his tongue up and down your hot slit. Up and down up and down up and-

“F-fuck, oh Toru-” you squeal when he wastes no time pushing past that snug little ring of resistance to reach deep into your gummy walls. Barely even giving you any warning - Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head at how sinfully tight you were squeezing him. “Shit how are you in so deep-”

And that petty, petty little part of him doesn’t answer, instead gliding up a determined thumb up to draw methodical circles on your throbbing clit. Fast. So so sloppy with the way he was letting your juices dribble past his knuckles, his wrist, forming a glossy sheen all the way down to the sheets. Matching the ruthless cadence of the way he was fucking your ravaged cunt the way he wished he could do with his rock-hard cock right now.

“Ah!” you gasp, when one swipe of his tongue sends jolts of pure white-hot pleasure running up your spine. And that’s all Gojo has to hear before he’s attacking your hidden sweet spot over and over. “F-fuck s’too good. Fuckin’ hate how your big mouth is- ngh- so good at this-”

That causes a husky rasp of laughter to bubble its way out of Gojo’s throat, and he’s pinning your wildly bucking hips down with one arm. “Don’t you dare run away now. You’re so cute when you’re cockdrunk and truthful like this, silly girl.”

The vibrations have you moaning out a feverish Toru! Toru! Toru! louder than ever, wrenching out of you with every crash of his soft tongue against your sensitive spots. Every harsh swivel on your clit, just harder on the tip, softer at the curve.

“Yeah- yeah yeah yeah, say my name like that.” he gasps, spitting out hissy profanities into your velvety walls. You were squeezing him so tight it was almost difficult to bully his tongue into your plushy walls. To keep up his mean staccato - but fuck, it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up, it didn’t matter if his tongue was getting tired. Because Gojo Satoru was one stubborn man. “Louder-”

“T-Toru!”

“No no,” you’re jolting at the feeling of something cool and glossy hitting your cunt in a harsh glob. Gojo barely wastes any time thumbing his spit in to mix with the mess made down below, letting your ears ring with such obscene squelches that have your cheeks burning. “Hear this, sweetheart?” As if there’s anything else you could hear, he’s pulling out those sultry sounds from you. “She’s louder than you, n’ that makes me so sad-” You fuck up further and further into Gojo’s tongue, eyes locked with his down in his favorite position between your legs. “-my girl can be ah- loud f’me, right? Say my name, say it so the whole fuckin’ onsen hears.”

“Toru—”

He’s taunting you in that same honeyed tone, “Louder.” Murmuring even deeper into your cunt, “C’mon, louder. Tell it to me.”

“Toru! Fuck- m-close-” It’s probably the last understandable sentence you’re managing to moan out before you finally cum. Wave after wave of such filthy pleasure hitting you, it’s all you can do to tighten your grip on his hair. Angling and using leverage to grind your hips down deeper, jolting with every flick of his tongue sending stars behind your eyelids. And Gojo, satisfied, shuts up to let you ride his face through your high. Using him, just dragging your sloppy pussy all over his tongue, his mouth. Over and over.

“Jus’ a bit more-” you hear him whisper out so sweetly over your ringing ears. Suddenly, your limp hands fall to the sides of that drenched pool you’ve made. And yet Gojo is still going, still meshing his bruised lips so messily against your own, making out with your cunt in a way that has him so depraved. “Just some more, pretty girl- you taste so addictive.”

Big fat tears of overstimulation prick at your eyes, and you’re sobbing out, “W-wait- fuck m’too sensitive for that.”

“You can handle it, you’re a big- fuck- a big girl, aren’t ya?” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every taste of your pussy. Surging forwards despite the hold you have on his hair, “Hold on- just want a bit more- you don’t know how long-”

The pout he’s giving you once you have to just drag him away like a man starved, fighting against the grip you have on him.

But oh Gojo looks so pretty, cloudy bangs pulled back to reveal his delicately blushing face, lips painted in a glossy sheen of your slick. Slobbering down, down, down to glisten across the bottom half of his face. Looking so bruised with how greedy he was, almost the same color as those cherry lollipops he loved so much. And his eyes - fuck, his eyes - glassy and half-lidded, hazy with a sheen that told you he was already completely and utterly pussydrunk out of his sanity.

“Toru…” you start, unable to tear your eyes away from the way he moans at the mere sound of your voice. “Your turn.”

It’s a long endeavor to get rid of Gojo’s pants - or, at least that’s what it feels like.

Hooking a still-shaky leg over his toned waist, you’re slamming his muscular frame down onto the mattress. Buttons hitting the floor when you all but tear his overpriced button-up off - because, really, it’s not you two if one of you doesn’t get your revenge somehow.

“These- these damn belts.” you scoff, too-eager fingers fumbling with the metal latches of Gojo’s belt. “Why does it have to have so many-”

“You’re so cute when you’re eager this way, silly girl.” he’s cupping the side of your face. Free hand easily unbuckling his belt, and the heady metallic sounds are enough to have your cunt so needy. “Like this-”

You’re gasping when he finally takes his formal dress pants off - along with those uselessly precum-soaked boxers. Sticky and leaving a lewd trail of glossy down his milky, sculpted thighs.

And oh if you thought Gojo was pretty before then he was a fucking masterpiece right now. All tall, lean muscle that rippled with every minute movement. Curves and dips of sculpted skin being accentuated so perfectly against the dim lightning in your suite.

So infuriating at how that couldn’t give you a better look at his massive, swollen length. So long and girthy, hefty where his fat head was leaking silky precum all over his abs. Such a delicate pink matching his lips at the head, dancing down, down his thick, prominent veins to those tufts of soaked white at his sharp pelvis. Fuck, he was so big - could you actually take him?

Wrapping your soft palm around Gojo’s furiously throbbing fast, you’re letting him coat you hand in a sinful sheen. And you can’t help but wonder what he’d taste like, too-

“Hold on right there, my dirty girl.” your slowly dipping head is tilted firmly by Gojo. “As much as hngh- fuck you’re squeezing me so tight- as much as this has been fuck- all I’d dreamt of since that office ice cream party. I just know m’gonna cum as soon as you put that smart mouth on me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing gently at your lips, sucking on your lower lip. “And I just know you’re never gonna fuck– let me live that down.”

You smirk, “Not gonna live that ice cream party thing, either, Toru.”

“He flashes you such a devilish smile, steadying your hips to straddle him messily. Spreading your legs on either side of his weepy tip. “Oh, fuck off.”

You hiss when you’re feeling the hot kiss his head is planting on your sensitive pussy lips, “Fuck you.”

“No.” Gojo chuckles, powerful thighs curling up to plant his feet on the mattress. Waiting. Anticipating. “I’m fucking you-”

It’s barely even a warning - laughable, really - how that’s all he’s gifting you with before bullying the very tip of his fat cock into your snug cunt in a sloppy hit.

He groans, eyes fighting to roll to the back of his head but caught so so greedily on the way you swollen pussy lips are being spread so obscenely to swallow every single inch after fucking inch. Disappearing down into your gooey walls, Gojo’s breath hitches at the first sign of resistance from your too-tight entrance.

“C’mon now.” he moans gutturally. Hips fucking up in a jagged, slow grind, trying so desperately to plunge himself in deeper. “C’mon c’mon come- on-”

“Toru!” you’re gasping when he slides his soaked length even deeper. Feeding in to the way your gummy walls want more more more more- “You’re so fuckin’ hngh- impatient.”

“Me?” he’s asking, voice a few octaves higher and dripping with the audacity to sound so genuinely in disbelief. “You’re- you’re saying that I’m impatient. Oh, sweetheart-” you blink back the lusty haze in your eyes to look down at Gojo fully, spying that upwards curl of his lips that you knew didn’t mean well for you right now. “-look down.”

Your eyes widening as you’re whirling downwards to spy the way he’s not even halfway in yet. But that’s not all, no, your poor pussy is just absolutely bulging around his girthy shaft, struggling, stretched to their limits - yet still quivering with the effort to try and milk something delicious out of him.

And the moment that tiny, shaky gasp leaves your mouth, his sharp hip bones are just crashing into yours. Toned hips lifting off of the bed to drive his achy cock into your drooling cunt. One hand kneads and gropes the flesh of your ass to steady you down, down, down-

“Toru-” you’re moaning, like a mantra, once his angry tip is gliding across the spongy wall of your cervix. The stretch too much, Gojo’s cock so thick in his girth that you could feel each and every sweet spot of yours being dragged down his length. “F-fuck, Toru!”

He chuckles, gritting out through those long, determined grinds. Having himself now fully stuffed inside your cunt, heavy balls kissing at the curve of your ass, pubic hair scratching up against your needy clit. “Can’t hah- keep quiet, can you? Fuckin’ love how needy she is- how needy you are.”

“Sh-shut up-” you mewl, narrowing your eyes.

“Hah- I would.” Gojo grins out so smugly. Tilting you precariously on top of him like some ragdoll to easily give your g-spot a mean crash of his greedy head. “But you can’t.”

And of course, he’s proving his own point by bouncing you in a heady, fast tandem, abs burning with the ache to fuck you so rude. Gojo spits once on two of his long, slender fingers, letting this lewd coating smear down to his knuckles before dipping them down to spread your puffy folds even farther.

“Fuuuck, jus’ look at you.” he rasps, the deep baritone of his voice having your gummy walls mold even harder onto the shape of his cock. Gojo throws his had back, twitching balls squeezing harder with every increasing smack against your ass. “Shit shit shit- how that bastard had you hngh- all to himself and didn’t make th-this pretty pussy come everyday I’ll never understand.” He’s pulling you down with a hand to the back of your neck, tightening, “So don’t we hah- rub it in his ugly face?”

Shit, the thought has you grinding and stuttering your hips down to meet Gojo’s unforgiving cadence, arching your body into him like you couldn’t get enough.

“You just got- hngh- so impossibly harder at that.” you push his bucking shoulders down onto the mattress. Now fully riding him just as much as he was fucking you into the mattress so animalistically. “And you call me needy.”

He scoffs, “I’m not the only one.” The fingers still lingering on your cunt moving to toy with your pulsing sensitive nub, teasing and toying your clit between two fingers. “Can you just h-hear how loud this pussy of yours is? Bet he can hear too.”

And it was true, the wet smacks were only getting louder. Sloppier. Squelching with the push and pull of Gojo’s pounding cock in the same maddening staccato.

But still - you weren’t going to be compliant that easily. Feeling the familiar tingles of your high edging closer, you wanted to break him just one more time. “Nah- I don’t think he can.”

“Oh you’re gonna regret that, silly girl.”

In all of two seconds - maybe even less than - Gojo’s using his immense strength to his advantage. Flipping the two of you over so your back is hitting the soaked sheets, droopy legs thrown over your shoulder to plow into you in such a mean mating press he has you folded into.

The new change in angle makes it even easier for him to be kissing your g-spot. Bruising. Branding his name onto your sweet spots - your cervix - so you wouldn’t forget. So you can’t forget.

“F-fuck, Toru-” you’re letting out staggered gasps every time he rams his hefty cock into you. Fingers still relentless on your clit - playing around with it as much as he was playing with your sanity. “I’m so-”

“What was that?” he interrupts through sloppy, stuttering thrusts. Free hand cupping his ear so goadingly, ‘Can’t hear you, sweetheart.“

“Toru-” you’re squealing over his rapidly accelerating movements. Fighting to babble out coherently, “Toru m’close-”

“Louder.” he’s grinning meanly. Hips burning with slowly fatiguing effort because he’s so close, your slick walls are massaging him so tight. But where’s the fun if there’s no teasing? “Still can’t hear ya.”

Your voice is shot at this point, “Toru, m’gonna cum-”

“Louder or m’not gonna let you.”

“Toru! Fuck fuck fuck m’cumming.” It hits him before those loud moans are even leaving your mouth, because your velvety walls are clamping down so snug. Molding to the shape of him, your heels digging even deeper on his shoulder, nails raking red red patterns down the pale skin of his biceps. “M’cumming- ngh-”

And fuck each and every slam of his hips sends electricity up your spine, bullying you through your high. Dragging it out till you think you could go insane.

“God- fuck you’re so-” It’s the only hoarse grunt leaving Gojo’s lips before he’s spilling thick rope after rope of seed into the awaiting channel of your pussy. “So perfect f’me.”

Two hands of his lace above your head, pushing you so impossibly deep down his thick hilt. He’s cumming and cumming so hard like he never has in his life, body out of control with the way he’s stuffing you with every drop of seed.

He shivers at the overspill, gushing out of the corners of your ravaged cunt, painting a creamy ring around his tired base. Too much. And yet mindlessly thrusting even sloppier, catching your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. “At least we didn’t fuckin’ kill each other, hm?”

You smile into it, slotting your hips languidly, “Didn’t do hgnh- the neighbors any favors, either.”

“It’s Naoya, who fucking cares? ‘Limp dick’ my ass.” And oh how Gojo loved that sweet sweet smile gracing your lips, the way your eyes light up all because of him. He can’t help but drawl out, “Y’know…since we were locked up in this room for all three days, and have most of the day tomorrow, how about you and I actually do some sightseeing here before we leave?”

You nod eagerly, tightening your legs around his waist and shit, this might just be heaven. “We need a break after that contract, s’gonna be so fun.”

He’s connecting his sticky forehead with yours, “Of course it will be, I’ll be there.” Babbling deliriously, drunk off the way you’re leveling him with another one of your familiar glares, “And we can use Yaga’s care, too, he never checks-”

“Toru…” you warn when Gojo cuts himself off with a gasp. Quirking an irritated brow - as you usually did when you’re with him, “Don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into Yaga’s card, he’ll kill you if he finds out. That’s if I don’t kill you first.”

“...”

“...Toru…”

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I booked us this suite with it too?”

A/N. My red flag is making Naoya the shitty ex in every piece of writing I do (or is that a green flag hmmm?)

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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yoohyeon · 10 months

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Some random user liked a post of me complaining about my neighbours earlier and f that user cause why are my neighbours playing music and screaming at pass 3am out of a sudden it’s like they predicted it

#if I wasn’t so shy I would knock on that door so fucking bad #they were told next time they do something like that they are force to move #AND THEY ARE STILL DOING IT ?!?!#after 11pm there’s suppose to be no loud music no screaming #but they got people over at 11pm exactly and start partying #and it wasn’t even that loud the later in got into the night the harder they start being loud #and I can hear the boom boom to my room I never hear the boom boom to my room ?!?!#it’s that loud tonight #our walls are too thin or my ears are to good at picking up sound idk what’s the answer #i was suppose to go to sleep 30 minutes ago but I’m mad I need to get this out of my chest 😭#Idk if my dad will send a text to our landlord though he’s kind of exhausted complaining to her and valid everyone’s annoying 😭#and we don’t want them to be force to move we just want peace we will feel so bad but they can’t continue like that 😭#and also I heard a loud banging earlier I got scared to death I think it was my dad banging on the ceiling #the neighbours above have pretty sure change place so they girl is waking up my parents instead of me 🥲#but unless me my dad is not afraid to tell them 😭#i get snoring but once I have my earplug I don’t hear the woman it’s okay but my poor parents at least I’m home while they work :(#even I was sleeping 6 hours cause of her it also sucked for me but not as bad as them #anyway got to sleep it’s 3:30 I’m more relax now with my earplug I won’t see them 😭#i have video evidence in case my landlord want one I film the time so they can’t say it’s not true #i feel like a goddamn Karen and I hate it 😭#maybe we complain too much or maybe I just feel to bad to think correctly if it’s really that bad or not 😭#i almost prefer my ex neighbors and I hated those guys too bdjsbjdbs #i do miss our friend above though 🥲 he call my dad this week they are doing fine I’m glad 🥰#alex.txt

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screampied · 3 months

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“tch, what are you doing.”

“hugging you.”

“i’m not stupid. why are you hugging me,”

sukuna grouses, his entire vast frame growing stiff. it was always like this with you. every few seconds, you’d be talking to him about literally anything and out of nowhere, your human arms just wrap around his waist. the demon stands still with the most repulsed poker-face, yet he doesn’t attempt to pry you off. for whatever reason, your warmth was surprisingly .. comfortable. you’ve got the cutest smile contorting against your features. burying your face into the center of his chest, the demon sighs, flicking your forehead. “oi brat, i asked you a question.”

playfully wincing at his gesture — you have a tiny pout. “you looked like you could use one,” and your arms briefly tighten around his slim torso. “also, usually when someone’s hugging you, you’re required to hug the other person b-”

“don’t tell me what to do,” and you gasp, feeling strong arms pull you in close. with an oof, you land right into his soft padded chest. your cheek tenderly rubs against the various ancient markings that paint and decorate his skin. the ‘hug’ only lasts for about three seconds before he pulls away, pretending to feel ill. a mere drama king. “disgusting. got me participating in such a revolting, humanly act. think ‘m gonna be sick.”

“oh, don’t be dramatic,” you tease, leaning into his touch. you’re met with a crimson-red glare but you could spot the vague pout forming against his lips if you squinted. out of all the pesky humans he’s encountered, no one was ever tolerable or worthy for his attention.

no one except . . . you.

a simple gesture as hugging makes him feel mushy ‘n soft inside and he hates it. loathes it, that dumb carefree grin that cheeses against your lips, the cute glimmer sparkling in your eyes. so irritating, so . . adorable.

as you rest your chin against his chest, you let off a tiny huff. “do demons not hug each other?”

“not in this way,” he murmurs, feeling an awkward lump brew in his throat. sukuna’s eyes suddenly avoid yours and you grow curious. not only that, but his body language changes. your softness was making him nervous.

he swears a plethora of inaudible curses under his breath, remaining rigidly stiff and refuses to move his beefy arms another itch. your arms wrap around him again and a huffing sigh makes his tense shoulder lower. with a grumpy grunt, his eye twitches and a single fang bares below his top lip, a sign of cute stubborn annoyance. “ack, you’re squishing me, human. release me at once.”

your chin swiftly rubs against the soft fabric that made up his personalized kimono before deadpanning. “not until you hug me back.”

“i am hugging you back.”

“no you’re not,” you giggle, burying your face inside between the opening slit of his clothing piece. his body heat tepidly radiates against you and you’re engulfed with his loud natural scent. the demon’s almost always naturally warm, your personal heating pad. he shoots you a vexing glare, nostrils flaring up in exasperation before his arms awkwardly pull you closer. “hey, not s- so tight, ‘kuna.”

“now you wanna complain? you’re gonna take this hug,” and you giggle, feeling him gingerly shove you into his broad chest, squeezing you tight.

sukuna sassily rolls his eyes at the audacity,

he’s never been one to participate in such ludicrous, but if it was with you, maybe it wasn’t that bad. sukuna stares down at you, a weird soft feeling pooling its way into his heart — after a while, he unwraps his arms from your body, ruffling your hair. “stupid.”

with a cheeky grin, you wrap your arms right back around his torso, nuzzling against his chest like you were a kitten. with a gruff groan, his arms suddenly mirror you, slinging around your waist, pulling you close tightly. how annoying, he’s starting to enjoy this little thing called ‘hugging.’

sukuna slowly adapts to the warmth of your body against him, a faint smile creeping on his face at your next adoring words. “love you ‘kuna.”

“you’re gonna experience a deadly cough in five days, brat.”

“huh?”

“hmph. i said . . i love you too.”

#★vegasbaby.#idk i felt softuhhhh #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic

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gremlingottoosilly · 11 months

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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.

— I’ll find something to eat, alright?

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you.

— Ah…your father is at home?

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was.

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you.

— You didn’t tell him about me?

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh.

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home.

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel.

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it?

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years.

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like.

— Ja. You can have it.

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet.

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz.

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.

— What do you mean by this, sir?

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you.

König is.

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man.

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this.

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father.

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir.

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing.

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?

You look like a good candidate.

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz.

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here.

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is.

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.

— I don’t want to break his heart.

— He doesn’t have one.

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum.

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please”

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right.

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore.

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this.

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it.

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father.

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it?

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul.

— I’ll tell him.

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.

— I need to return to my dorm.

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja?

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

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kamitv · 1 month

Text

▷ Second Time?

Synopsis . Part One. When you get paired with the campus asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin. Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. / Pairing . virgin!Sukuna x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, nipple play (m!receiving), pussy slapping, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, continued porn w plot, teasing, taunting, filth, creampie, Sukuna’s kinda soft here and there, etc. / wc . 4.4k

A/N: to those that requested a part two for virgin!sukuna <3 [MDNI]

“No? Oh c’monnn, they’re just piercings,” You whine as your legs remain sprawled out over Sukuna’s muscular thighs.

Your panty-clad cunt was throbbing over his saliva-slicked semi-hard cock, due to your recent actions, and yet here Sukuna was still trying his very best to figure out a way out of this situation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go further with you— he was just nervous.

Not that he’d ever say that out loud though. Admit you’ve made him nervous? Oh please, in what universe?

Sure, you made him cum prematurely but that’s not his fault. No one told you to have such a slutty ass mouth.

Back to the present though, as you gaze down at him with those stupidly pretty eyes of yours, batting your lashes pleadingly whilst you await for the man to change his answer. It was simply unfair of him to have nipple piercings and not show you. It’s the least he could do after the head you just gave him, right?

“No, it’s not the ‘least I can do’,” Sukuna huffs. It’s then that you realize you’d spoken your thoughts aloud but, in a way, you’re actually glad you did so, “You’re not seeing shit, now get off of me.”

The pout that presents itself on your face is practically immediate, “C’mon ‘Kuna, I won’t touch them. I jus’ wanna see,” You coo softly, tilting your head to the side as if to convince him, “Please?”

One simple word and his tip was wet with precum yet again. Sukuna swears he hates you. He hates the way you're looking at him right now, the way you're seated so perfectly on top of him, and the way he forgets how the hell he even got into this position with you in the first place.

Didn't he come over here to finish a project? Not have sex with you.

And yet, he can't find it in himself to say no to you again. That damn word you said, it did something to him. Sukuna's not sure what or why but his mouth is moving on its own, almost instinctively, "You wanna see them?" He sighs.

You're nodding, slipping your hands down to the hem of his shirt, "Yeah. Promise I won't touch."

"Tch. I..." Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a pretty vein decorating his skin along his sharp jawline as he glances away for a moment, "I want you to beg me again."

Although you're a bit taken back by his request, you're quick to lean forward a bit and bite your lower lip, "Please?"

He ignores the word leaving you lips, his cock springing to life once more despite his attempt at leaving you unanswered. Given his body's reaction to you, all you can do is smirk before you're leaning down slightly and pressing your lips to his jaw.

"Pretty please, Sukuna?" You purr, warm breath hitting his now overly tense skin, "I promise I'll be good. Won't lay a finger on you unless you want me to."

His head slumps back against the couch and he inhales sharply at your soft touch sliding under his shirt, steadily working it up as the black fabric bundles up against your hands.

Then you're at his neck, sucking on his skin, rolling your tongue over him, shifting your hips forward against his cock and he simply groans. "F-Fucking, fine." Sukuna huffs, annoyed out of his ever-loving mind at whatever control it is you seem to have over him.

He hates you. He swears he hates you. Everything about the way your hands quickly tug his shirt up over his head, tossing the fabric elsewhere as you set your greedy eyes on his chest, the way your eyes widen at how flushed his skin is, and the sight of your tongue swiping over your lips as soon as you set your sight on his nipples.

Such pretty contrasting metal decorated his very pretty swollen nipples. So flushed with shades of pink and red, itching to be touched— just one flick and you knew he'd let out the most heavenly sound. The problem was convincing him to let you touch his nipples.

They were so damn tempting though, you swore you were drooling at the sight. God, you just wanted to reach out and-

"No," Sukuna rasps out. Your eyes snap up to his face and your pussy throbs at his expression.

He's beyond embarrassed. His eyes almost look glossed over with how desperate he was for you to stop looking at him. And yet he was so pouty and grumpy too, plump lips pulled into the cutest little frown at how hungry you were looking at him, his breathing unsteady all over again, and his cock felt twitching wildly beneath you.

You smirk, "'No'... what?"

"No, you cannot touch them," He's slow to clarify that, having seen right through those greedy eyes of yours, "You wanted to see and you've seen so-"

"I can make you feel good though," You purr, leaning in close to him all over again. "Jus' let me-"

"No," Sukuna mutters sternly. Then his hands are meeting your hips and his grip alone makes you flinch.

His touch is filled with intent as he slides his hands back to your ass and gives you a nice and firm squeeze, tugging you against him and making you gasp at the way his dick twitches right against your cunt. Your hands go to his shoulders to stop yourself from being pulled flush against him and he gazes dead up into your eyes.

How does one look so needy and yet commanding at the same time? It was like Sukuna told you thousands of words through his gaze alone. Maybe it was his very apparent physical need for you, or maybe it was just how attractive he is when aroused but fuck his look had your body hot all over.

Sukuna lets out a small breath of air before he drops his raspy tone even lower to a whisper, "Fuck me," He utters, feeling the reaction your cunt has to his words and cracking a cocky little smirk, "Fuck me, and you can touch me as much as you wish to."

You gulp thickly. Did you forget how to speak for a moment because all you do is open your mouth and it was like no words were even coming to your brain. His gaze was to intense and starved, large hands playing with the fat of your ass while he lifts his hips up slightly.

Then you gasp again, his thick tip was pressing right against your needy hole through the few layers of clothing that remained and you felt drunk off of your own arousal. Nodding and whispering in return, "O-Okay," Your hands slide around his neck and you lean in until your lips are meeting his again.

And if you were drunk off of your arousal then he was fucking high off of his own— feeling faded out of his mind with the way he leisurely moves to undress your lower half as he kisses you like he's done so a thousand times before, sliding his tongue into your mouth, swallowing up your moans, sucking on your lower lip, and undressing you all in one go.

Hell, for a second you forget the man is a damn virgin.

And as if to combat with that— you feel like a damn virgin once you start sinking your slippery walls around Sukuna’s thick cock. Gasping against his lips and feeling his fingertips curl into the skin of your waist, his jaw-dropping and lips quivering against yours as he lets out the most guttural groan he’s ever uttered, and both of your eyes fluttering at the connection of his body to yours.

Sukuna’s deeply shaded red eyes are hazy on yours as you sink down on him. His mind is turning to mush and he swears he’s about to pass the fuck out. It could’ve been the way your face looked as your cunt greedily sucked in his cock, or how tight your walls clamped down on him but, either way, Sukuna felt hot all over. Dizzy with lust and faded off of everything that’s you.

Every inch of you, the feel of your squeezing wet pussy enclosing around his aching cock, that breathy squeak of his name leaving your lips, and then your fingers grazing his chest-

Sukuna’s brows twist up and his entire body flinches instinctively. Hips bucking up slightly, large hands urging you further down, and shaky sound escaping his wet blushing lips— he’d officially lost it.

He looked so damn pretty doing so as well, not that you’d ever tell him that (you’ve embarrassed him enough for the time being). Those damn eyes of his were all glossed over, his bottom lip was shaking as a sexy-pitched gasp escaped his throat, and his hands held onto you for dear life whilst he bottomed out.

His fat cockhead kissing your cervix with little to no movement had you panting heavily while you kept your eyes low on his. “‘Kuna,” You feel his cock twitch desperately inside you and you toy with one of his sensitive nipples in between your index and thumb, “Y-You’re so-“

“Shut up,” He groans, and then he’s kissing you— desperately, hungrily-, starved. He knew another word from you would have your cunt stuffed full of his cum within seconds.

And as much as he wanted that, as much as he knew that’d be the end result of all this, he did not want to make yet another fool of himself. Though, the way your fingertips constantly flick over his pierced nipples makes him fucking whine into your mouth, a heavy grunt following after the sound as if to cover it up.

The hands your waist urge your body up, dragging your slicked walls up along his cock before allowing gravity to slam you back down. God the way you moan his name makes his knees feel weak. You were making him, as a whole, feel so utterly weak.

It wasn’t long before you were picking up a steady pace on top of him, your breaths shared with his and his eyes not once leaving yours. Sukuna was such a silent commander, that gaze of his told you everything, testing-, no, daring you to look away from him. He didn’t even know what it was about eye contact but he craved it so desperately.

Your gaze made his cock so stupidly hard, so much so that he just wanted to flip you over on this stupid couch of yours and-

And then he was. Sukuna doesn’t even register he’s repositioned with you until you let out the prettiest little whimper and your eyes roll back as he, almost experimentally, thrusts his heavy cock deep past your plush pussy lips.

What brings him back into the moment is that sound of you and the way you’re choking out his name, “S’kuna, f-fuck,” You almost hate that he’s taken control because you’ve lost your teasing of his chest, “Why’d you-, ngh-,” You’re cut off completely when he drags his hips back so torturously slow before rolling his hips down into you.

Shaking his head thoughtlessly, “Shut up,” Sukuna huffs again as he presses his bulky weight down against you, folding you into the meanest mating press and making you let out a filthy mewl at the sheer stretch of his girthy cock. “Please,” He sounds almost breathless, that plea of his hardly even audible, “Jus’ be quiet f’me.”

Your jaw hangs open and you’re simply gaping up at the man with stupid, cockdrunk eyes. Something about feeling and watching him learn how to please you was probably more pleasurable than the sex itself. Which is saying an awfully lot because even though he didn't know what the hell he was doing, whatever he was doing, he was doing it right.

All you can do is wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, moaning his name softly every time his tip nudges into that mushy spot inside you. Sukuna lets out a low hum when he feels your nails claw at his back suddenly.

Then the cocky bastard has the nerve to fucking smile at you. Almost as if he enjoyed the pain of your nails scratching at his back hard enough to leave marks…

Because, of course, then he’s fucking you faster, harder, deeper. So determined to learn what you like, to learn your body inside and out (literally), and to have you mark up his back more than the dark ink that decorates his skin currently.

“Y’feel so fuckin’…” He can hardly even speak as he just grows addicted to pushing his cock in and out and in and out. That sloppy sound of your cunt squelching and wetting up his cock over and over again-, fuck he couldn’t get enough of it. “S-So fuckin’ good,” Sukuna’s voice almost softens as he shifts his lips to your ear, “Oh fuck, wanna…” His words trail off, a deep shade of blush coating his cheeks.

You can’t help but grow that never-ending urge to tease him, moving your lips to his ear, “Wanna what?” There was a slight shake in your voice but that didn’t save him from his cock throbbing at the sound of your voice alone.

“Hahh… wanna-, agh, wanna make you cum,” Sukuna admits begrudgingly. He sounded so ridiculously embarrassed saying that out loud but he was far too pussydrunk to care right now.

Thrusts growing heavier as if he were searching for a specific spot inside you, his eyes softening as he shifts to hover his face over yours once more, and his groans making your stomach churn with butterflies. Hell, you almost do exactly that of what he’s requested based on the sound of desperation in his tone alone.

Sukuna’s usually such a big, mean, sometimes stoic man, and yet here he was, silently requesting your assistance.

He is only a virgin after all.

“Not anymore,” He gruffs, catching you by surprise as you render the fact that those words left your lips. “C’mon, tell me what to do.”

Again, Sukuna swears on his life he hates you. He hates the way you’ve made him so weak, the way your cunt is so deliciously warm inside, the way you moan his name-

Fuck, he hates you.

“‘Kuna,” You whisper as you slide one of your hands from around his neck to slip to his hand and guide him, “My clit. You gotta-“

Your breath is caught in your throat all over again. You were trying to guide him just like he wanted you to but Sukuna was far too quick of a learner, swatting his thick thumb around in search before his ears twitch at the way your voice gets stuck in your throat.

“Here?” He has the nerve to whisper gently, “Rub here, right? Y’like that?” Sukuna asks as he matches his thrusts with the flick of his thumb, drinking in the way your back arches up off of the couch and your eyes roll back.

You’re nodding, “Yes yes-, r-right there ‘Kuna, fuck…”

His eyes rake over your face all over again and then he’s doing that thing where he speaks without thinking, “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

Of course, those softly uttered words pull you out of your cockdrunken stupor for only a moment, “H-Huh?” You breathe out as your eyes meet his.

“I hate you,” Sukuna lies straight through his teeth, “Hate how pretty you look beneath me,” He’s babbling at this point, picking up his pace and trying to angle his cock into somewhere specific, “How fuckin’-, god you’re squeezin’ me s’tight, hahh… h-how you sound moaning my name, taking my cock.” With that last sentence comes a particularly harsh thrust.

Your nails scrape at his back again and he moans in pleasure. Gloss covers your eyes as he finally finds that spot that has you seeing stars, “Sukuna,” You moan sweetly, feeling him hit that very spot over and over and over again.

“Again,” He huffs, leaning down even closer and pressing more of his weight onto you, “Moan my name again, woman.”

“Sukuna,” You’re moaning without the need for his instruction. To hell if the man is a virgin, he knows how to use his cock.

What he doesn’t realize is how big he is in comparison to anyone else you’ve been with. Stretching you open with every thrust, fucking you ridiculously full of all his thick inches, knocking his dripping tip right against your sweet spot, making your legs tingle in numbness, and rolling skillful circles around your clit as if he’d practiced doing so before.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Sukuna rasps out, his eyes locked dead onto yours as usual.

He was so focused on you, so eager to make you cum. Obviously, he’d never felt anything like this before so he never wants it to end. And perhaps that’s the only reason why he hasn’t emptied himself into you yet.

Every time you’re felt leaving another bright red mark on his back, he lets out a low hiss before flashing a smirk down at you, thrusts growing harder. Then there’s the way you just gape up at him, jaw dangling as you’re so clearly lost in pleasure, and pussy swallowing him in whole each time he fucks himself back into you.

And your little gasps of, “Feels s-so good Kuna, don’t stop.” Have him reeling back on purpose, pretending to mistakenly slip his cock out of you for a moment only to slap his fat cockhead against your needy hole and then push all of himself right back in.

With a smug expression on his face, “Don’t tell me what t’do,” He responds.

“I jus’ did,” You argue back all in one breath.

God, he- , “I hate you,” The words are leaving his lips yet again but he can’t stop driving his dick inside you. You’re so fucking warm, so welcoming for him, so honeyed and sweet inside. Hell, for a second he wonders what you’d taste like on his tongue— despite never even going down on someone before.

“Yeah,” You flash a fucked-out little smile up at him and your walls grip onto him tighter, making his brows twist up, “But you love fuckin’ me.” Your little whisper makes him shudder.

He nearly cums at that, releasing a strangled groan before he just nods almost obediently, “Uhuh.” Sukuna mumbles, his hate for you growing with every passing second.

There you are under him, still teasing him despite the expression of pleasure plastered across your face, “Yeah?”

“M-Mhm,” He grumbles in response.

He can’t help but just agree with you. Of course he adores fucking you. If anything, he doesn’t think he’d prefer it be anyone else. After watching your cute ass all composed every week in class, listening to the way you lecture him for not paying attention as if you actually care about him, watching you grow surprised today at the way he can get things done when he puts in an effort-

Shit, of course he wanted to see you like this— splayed out like a pretty little slut for him, gasping his name, looking him in the eye, and allowing him to fuck you. God, his mind is spinning. He can’t think at all.

So lost in his head, you’re left spasming below him because he’s still thumbing at your clit and his cock is as unforgiving as ever, “Sukuna,” His name rolls off of your tongue beautifully and he’s left in awe above you.

Tilting his head, “What?” Sukuna breathes as he’s pulled from his daze and back to the present.

“Make me cum,” You order so suddenly.

As that third word leaves those lips of yours, Sukuna smirks knowingly and he leans up a little just to angle himself better inside you. He glances down at your cunt, biting his lip at the sight of his cock bulging inside you, watching himself push in and out for a second before his smirk turns into a lazy little smile.

“Already did’,” He scoffs, flicking his eyes back up to you.

Your brows twist up, “Wha-“

“Are you that dumb when cock is inside ya’?” He utters meanly and earns an immediate squeeze of your gummy walls around his veiny shaft, “You came a few minutes ago, brat.”

“I…” Your expression becomes dumbfounded and in an instant, you’re the one left embarrassed.

Which he finds all too cute, “Felt good tho’.” He comments smugly, looking back down to where you’re connected and tilting his head at the sight.

Fuck, he was so sexy above you. Even on his chest, bright red scratches decorated his skin. When did you do that? His nipples were still as flushed as his face and you wanted so badly to reach out and flick your fingers against them again.

Pouting, “Sukuna-“

“Do it again f’me,” The man cuts off.

You can’t even get a response out before he’s leaning down again, “I-“

This time you’re cut off by him pressing your legs together and against your chest, loving the pretty sight of you folded and bent to his will like this. All he can do is stare down and watch himself fuck you, seeing your swollen lips take in his fat length so fucking beautifully. It’s like you were made for him or something.

Your cunt only molds around his cock, sucking him in whenever he pulls out like you never wanted him to leave you. He could feel every throb of your pussy when he spoke to you, every squeeze of your warmth when he reached deeper than before, and fuck was he enamored by every second of it.

“Please,” He says breathlessly all of a sudden, itching to watch you cum on his cock this time around.

His begging is followed by him moving his hand back down to your pussy, his thumb sliding back in search of your clit. Rubbing those maddening little circles once he finds it, Sukuna focuses most of his attention on your body. Every little jump you make when he swats his thumb to the left, every pitch in your moan when he thrusts inside you at a certain pace— Sukuna soon smiles once he’s got you all figured out.

“Oh fuck,” You whimper, tossing your head back against the couch as your eyes loll to the back of your hand.

With that knowing smile on his face, the couch creaks with his rough thrusts inside you, “Stop makin’ me beg you for shit,” Sukuna grunts before gifting your throbbing pussy with a little smack, “Jus’ give it t’me.”

“Sukuna-, ah,” You’re choking at the sensation and your cunt narrows even more around him.

His toned pelvis smacks against you over and over, heavy balls hitting your ass with each shove of his fat cock inside your warmth, “Fuck,” The man heaves as he feels himself steadily growing addicted.

Why the hell didn’t he have sex with someone sooner?

“M’gonna cum,” You soon whine out to the man.

To which he clashes into you faster, feining for it, “Please, f-fuckin’ need it,” Sukuna groans before pressing down against you again.

His thrusts grow uneven and jagged, eyes rolling back when he feels you finally cumming around his cock for a second time. You were squeezing him so tight. All he could do was moan at how perfect you were.

“Shiit,” He huffs, his cock twitching wildly inside you before his mind goes completely blank, “I love you-“

Your brows immediately twist up, “Wha-“

And then he’s painting your walls white. Grunting, groaning, moaning-, hell, you name it and the sound was leaving his lips as he fucks his orgasm into you.

Then he’s babbling mindless little praises of, “Love this fuckin’ pussy,” Lost in filling you with his cum and listening to you whimper from overstimulation.

Gifting you with praise after praise about how beautiful you are under him like this, how much he adores his name rolling off your tongue. He can’t even fathom how much cum is spilling into you, velvety thick ropes painting your walls a creamy white to the point where it spills out of you and coats his hefty base with a filthy ring of white.

All while he continued to praise you, going as far as thank you in quiet little whispers. God, he was out of his mind. He wasn’t thinking in the slightest, his mouth was just saying shit.

So much so that he’s barely lucid as his high comes down, doesn’t process a thing he said to you moments ago, and just lays there for a while with his cock resting inside you. All he can do is pant heavily as he rests his body on top of you, not yet pulling out and leaving his softened cock inside you.

You’re completely still beneath him for a while, trying to catch your breath as your legs feel temporarily numb. You couldn’t get those three words he spoke to you out of your head.

His tone was so damn soft and vulnerable, just replaying it in your head made you smile. Before he notices your expression though, you wipe the smirk off of your face and coo his name softly, “Sukuna…?”

“Don’t.” Is all he has to say to you. He was well aware of what he’d said to you.

He didn’t mean it, of course. He was simply… lost in the moment.

“Aww,” You purr, an obvious breathlessness to your tone, “You said you loved me cause I took your virginit-“

Sukuna lets out a mean groan before moving your legs apart so he can meet your eyes again, “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

You flash a pout to mock him, “Why? ‘Cause I didn’t say it back?”

His face is all different shades of blush but he still looks as mean and grumpy as ever, “No…”

“You sure?” You tease further.

All he can do is roll his eyes at you, “Fuck you.”

And, naturally, you only continue, “I think you did that already…”

Sukuna sighs, “Just.. Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“As long as you promise we’ll do this more often.”

“I-, hah,” He smirks, “What are you, some kinda cockhungry slut?”

“No…” Your eyes drag themselves elsewhere for a moment, “But for you, maybe.”

“Mh.” Sukuna hums deeply, an unavoidable smile spreading across his face, “I think I like that.”

“I think you love it-“

“M’gonna ‘love’ fucking the snarky responses outta’ your mouth in a second if you keep it up,” He says flawlessly.

All you can do is swallow down whatever it is you were going to respond to that with.

To which he smiles, “Uhuh, that’s what I thought.”

Edit after leaks: sorry not sorry to spoil: rip unckuna & fuck gege, bring back gojo NOW. I’m not playin 😂

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