#jordussy

[biscuitsngravie]

Dancing with the Devil

True Form Sukuna x Reader

Summary: Sukuna's had a shit morning, and what better way to take it out than on you.

Content and Trigger Warnings: free use, no prep (on Sukuna's end, reader preps), creampie, reader is cumdump, reader is a cumslut, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, cunnilingus from the back, vaginal fingering, piv, double penetration, anal sex, angry sex, rough sex, deep penetration, paraphilia regarding voyeuristic sadism, sadisomasochism?, degradation, orgasm control (edging & forced orgasm), multiple orgasms, monsterfuckery is a tag in itself, mating press, doggy style, pussy slapping, choking, size difference, biting, hematophagy/blood letting, blood kink, light possessiveness, spit play/spit as lube, some nipple play/nipple sucking, grinding (kinda), hair pulling, full Nelson (kinda), fear play, cowgirl, overstimulation, scratching, squirting, dacryphilia, fellatio, throat fucking, cum swallowing, slapping, lotus, belly bulge, breeding kink

Word Count: 4.8k

an: this is my first time writing sukuna, pls be kind!! 😣

MDNI 18+

His yelling doesn't disturb you. If anything, it acts as a lullaby, snarls and grunts being the hands rocking your cradle. The crashing of furniture serves as not much more than the ease of nearby waves. The bloodcurdling screams accenting his actions like the songs of cicadas in the wind. 

It's a hurried and desperate banging against the door that finally stirs you. Pleads of mercy often go unheard to him, including yours. But the gall to beg his personal toy (a nicer word on a good day) in an attempt to escape his fury? Audacity once flowed as easily as the offender's blood, now adding to a mosaic of evidence that is Ryoumen Sukuna. 

The satin slides against your skin as you shift, the flows of fabric slipping across your skin and pooling at your waist as you sit up. It's one of the niceties he's granted you since your... promotion of sorts. Your nipples pebble at the coolness in the air, its temperature challenged by the white hot heat emanating from the worshipped himself. 

What's set him off today? A line out of turn? A newfound betrayal? His breakfast not cooked to his liking? These anxieties used to run across your mind, bouncing against the walls of your cranium just to press together into a headache. Though nowadays, despite being directly on the receiving end of his emotions, your job proves rather simple:

When he wants it. 

How he wants it.

Wherever he wants it.

Even in your first few minutes of your waking hours does arousal prickle your skin, rippling goosebumps along with the cool, morning air. It warms every part of you, cascading from the center of your chest down your arms, pooling into your core and wetting your inner thighs. The next course of events can only be described as a manifestation of your inner perversion; whether offset by your newfound position or an expression of germinating seeds finally fertilized and enriched by their twisted environment. Anyone who would seem to care to do the research has most likely begun pushing daisies of their own.

But here you are, nipples pebbling the air as your body warms. Deft fingers push aside the satin fabric sitting at your hips to play with your slit, a welcome satisfaction when your fingers are met with a slickness. Your clit aches and begs for your attention with insistent throbbing, but you tease yourself much in the way he would. Using your other hand, you play with your nipple, pinching and squeezing the bud, moaning as a bolt of electricity shoots straight back down to your leaking cunt. You think to yourself about how much he loves watching your chest as you ride him, his satisfied smirk as you bounce on his cocks. 

“Fuck…”

The flashback brings you to full on fingering yourself, slipping two in with ease, but ultimately missing the burning feeling of him stretching you out. With the flat of your palm pressed against your clit, you throw your head back, groaning as you think of him. Every scream fuels you. Every desperate cry for help before it's mangled into a jumbled gurgle as he rips people to oblivion. You can't help but fall back and roll over, nearly humping your hand as you try to grind into it.

"Please! I didn't-"

You grab the tororo-jiru — yams grated down to a slick —  on your nightstand and begin prepping your other hole. The pressure isn't the same as when you're stuffed full, but it'll have to do for now.

"I-I can help you! Please li-"

You buck your hips at every shriek, heat emanating from your body and building a sheen of sweat over you. The sheets cling to your damp skin wherever it touches. More. More.

"My children! I have children, please!"

You cry out in tune with his next victim. Though on opposite ends of the spectrum, your shared agony is caused by the same figure. Your lower belly tightens at the thought as you pulsate around your fingers. You squeeze them as you lament that you can't have more. More.

That coil comes in on itself, tightening as it hurdles you towards the edge. "Hah… mmmph!" 

You bite your lip and move your hips even faster, humping your hand like a damned dog in heat. 

"Horny little bitch."

The cause of Sukuna's distress this morning? Maybe it was the duck - undercooked and underdressed, naked on a plate without a medley of vegetables for his taste. Maybe that would've been permissible if they hadn't put too much wheat in his hishio, leaving it dry and all too crumbly. If that one troglodyte brought him the sake like he ordered asked, there wouldn't have been an issue. Even the raging boners he was afflicted with weren't bothering him all that much - your chambers were near enough. 

Possibly the worst solution of irritancies, undealt with arousal, and mostly likely hanger brought him to summon cleave on the next servant who brought him a dining platter. The grating screams of horror that usually played melodically in his ears only fueled his growing impatience and unamusement. Something that was amusing though?

Your scrambles for deceny (why?) and slew of apologies pull him out of his momentary stupor. You cling to the satin sheets, uncaring or unaware of the splotches of dampness, a mixture of your wetness and the lubrication. Even so, you hold the crimson fabric to yourself and gaze up at him. He watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest, sure your heart is beating so fast it’ll break your ribs and lay splayed on the floor. He can smell a familiar scent, one that intoxicates him when he begins his tireades, infiltrating his nostrils like stray fern spores. Or at least he thinks he does. Fear, is it not? But as he traces your form, unnecessarily wrapped in flimsy threads, he picks up on the small notes that change the chemistry of it all. 

“Are you… embarrassed?”

If you weren’t before, you for certain are now. The draw of your knees up to your chest, and the subtle quiver of your lip answer long  before you do. “I-I… did you need comforting, my Lord?”

Sukuna squats down to your level. While the room is known as “your” chambers, the term is used as a marker of where you should be, rather than what “yours.” You sleep on a futon elevated not much more than a foot and a half off the ground beside a heighted California King sized bed. The material and stuffing is changed regularly, though considering the activities that perspire in this room, it’d be a crime if it weren’t. 

The bed itself is preserved for Sukuna for the occasion that he does decide to sleep here. Even though you’re his favorite, he often sleeps alone since four arms, along with other appendages, get rather hot — especially after he’s done with you. Two years since you’ve offered yourself up for him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He sneers at you, baring his fangs in what he considers in resemblance to a “smile.” Balanced on his haunches with two arms resting on thighs thick as logs, he reaches out with his upper left hand to snatch away your covering. He swallows his comment on how damp and limp the fabric is when he spreads your legs with his upper right. You fight for only a fraction of a second before letting yourself be laid bare. 

He lets out a low whistle and begins reaching right towards your heat. The chuckle he has can be felt through the vibration in his fingertips as he runs his fingers through your folds. This is normal. This is just another day, but today…

“My Lord—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The lightest of thumb presses to your clit has you whimpering. This is normal. He’s seen you naked more times than you’d ever care to count. He’s come to you, teasing and playing with your sensibilities and rationalities after a rampage many, many times before. But this…

Are you… embarrassed?

Though you’re one of many for him, he’s the only one for you. Many years from now, a dictionary will be drafted, and your name will be cited for “insatiable slut.” Between his visits you often find yourself craving even the slightest hint of acknowledgement from him. A brief glance from just one of his eyes would have you trembling with your hands between your thighs for hours. So of course when he’s on his tantrums you beg above for his warpath to lead to your room, but he’s never caught you like this. 

He’s never caught you knuckles deep at the presumption that he’d be finding comfort in you today. He’s never seen you masturbate in search of self-fulfilling pleasure. It’s always been a show of sorts for him: fascinating and occasionally grating as you both waited for you to be “ready.”

So yeah, of course you’re fucking embarrassed. 

He touches you differently now: curiosity leads him through your heat and up to your clit, pressing against it again. He focuses the eyes on his second face on yours, while his others stay trained on the small shudder that starts from your thighs and dances to your pert nipples. He catches the way your hand starts to grip onto the fabric under you and presses again, harder.

Your hips buck into his hand in tandem with a moan that dies as quickly as it comes when you remember his command. You bite your lip to kill any other sounds that dare to escape you, throwing your head back to sniffle as he begins circling it with his thumb.

His bottom eyes catch the way your toes begin to curl and he chuckles again. The vibration goes straight to your clit, and your legs fly to wrap around his forearm. “Ah ah ah…” he finally puts his bottom arms to use to hold your legs open. “Bet you like that shit, huh?” He drops the blanket he held in his upper left arm to run two fingers over your heat, glistening as his thumb speeds up. “All of ya are always playin’ with this even with my cocks in you. Feel good?”

You sniffle and nod weakly. You swear your back is going to break with how hard you’re arching off the futon. Your breathing becomes erratic as you try to hold yourself. He’s touching you. Like, actually touching you. 

“‘Please?’ Please what?”

“Please… here,” you began leading his hand towards your center, "I wanna come…”

“Don’t forget your place. Do that shit yourself.”

Since that time early on, you’d learn to keep your pleas of desperate yearning to yourself. You played with your own nipples, toyed with your clit yourself, and paved your way to your orgasms. If you came that day, good for you. If you didn’t, all parties failed to see how that was his problem. But today…

The way he holds you, the way his fingers dig into your heat, exploring the warmth that’s so frequently wrapped around one or both of his cocks. The hum of inquisitiveness when he presses against a spongy surface inside you is too much to handle. It’s all overwhelming, the way your body becomes feverish with every stroke, thick fingers stretching you out the way your own never could. The euphoria leaves you lightheaded. Your breaths shallow as it takes everything out of you to stay grounded on cloud nine.

“Hey!” Sukuna moves his thumb away from your clit to slap your sopping cunt. “Answer the question.” The action itself isn’t too rough, but your sensitivity has you jolting. You whine and squirm under him, fighting the hold on your legs in futility. Before you can snap up to register what’s happening, a grip around your throat brings you back up to face him. All four eyes focus on you. Though not necessarily peeved, irritance makes its presence known on his faces. 

“Answer.”

The lone word has you clenching around his fingers. Your breath quickens under the scrutiny of his gaze, hitching in your throat when he puts pressure on the sides. You will your eyes to remain forward to meet his and not roll into the back of your skull. With an uneven voice you whimper, “I d-do… my Lord.”

“Hmm,” he hums again, lazily scissoring you as he thinks. Torturously slow strokes keep your orgasm at bay as he ponders to himself. Continuing with his upper left hand, he reaches for the spot he found earlier and relishes in the pathetic mewl it pulls from you. He removes his fingers to inspect the newfound slick that’s gathered around them down to the knuckle. “Hmph.”

You look off to the side in shame, unable to turn your head away with his hold. His scent wafts up your nose, sneaking up into your senses and settling in the back of your throat. The slight metallic tinge from previous bloodshed mixes with the bourbon undertone that emanates from his skin. Oils and perfumes that have long since settled fuzzy your senses, though you’re still present enough to reach down and cover yourself. The everpresent vulnerability cuts through the surface, urging you once again for unneeded modesty. 

Yet another smirk paints his lips. He takes the hand covered in your wetness and grabs your wrists in one motion. He lets go of your throat so that he can raise your arms over your head, laying you down on your back. Adjusting his hands on your thighs, he spreads you open to a with your knees pressed against your chest. The stretch isn’t unfamiliar, but it still has you holding your breath. 

Inching closer and closer, he wraps his hand around your throat again, arching over you. He loves the way you feel beneath him: the fragility of your form despite the way you crave him. Need him. He loves that your body gives way to his greed, taking every touch as a godsend. Though you both know heaven is far from where he’s from. He can’t get the enough of how you—

Sukuna breaks out of his own musings to refocus himself, tucking his face into your neck. Embarrassment and shame greet him again, dancing across his olfactory palette and swelling both his cocks. “Listen here, you bitch,” he husks against the column of your throat, tracing your pulse point with his fangs, “don’t you dare cover what’s mine.”

His bottom arms make quick work of his kimono. He lets you go for a moment to free himself completely. Despite the staining on his garments, he was sure to at least wash his hands, wary of the “burning” you wouldn’t shut the fuck up about a few weeks ago. He doesn’t know if he would’ve cared so much if it hadn’t spread to him and the others, causing a discomfort he would not live through again. 

You barely get a chance to observe his physique — taut muscles that proudly sport the tattoos banding across his chest — before the world goes dark as he leans over you again. He forces his faces into your neck, the rough skin of his second face nuzzling into the suppleness of your own. His bottom arms angle your legs outward to keep his pussy on display. When he catches the hint of a whine, his upper right hand covers your mouth to save himself of your pathetic squalling. His left begins to occupy itself with your nipple, pinching and twisting it between rough fingertips. 

Pain and pleasure intertwine again, concocting a cocktail of endorphins that goes straight from  your brain right back down to your cunt. That’s when you notice it: 

The heat you feel is not just your own, but his second mouth panting there. The lips are barely close enough to brush against your own. Sukuna pulls back to watch your face, already twisting in pleasure, but morphing into something else completely as his tongue envelopes you. The ridges of his taste buds are hot against your his pussy, rubbing against your clit as his tongue darts out to lick you again. You whine and throb on the muscle as it encases your vulva, helplessly rutting to the best of your ability. “Mmmph!”

He hooks your legs into his elbows on his bottom arms this time, pressing his second face into you even moreso. Hot pants wet your skin as he feels his own arousal growing. Every vibration against his palm fuels his cocks. It makes it harder and harder not to reach down to relieve the ache that’s becoming unbearable. Sucking on the skin of your neck, he continues to work his second mouth, lapping up the slick as it gathers there. “Fuck, didn’t know you tasted this good. Shoulda done this a long time ago,” he says gruffly, moving his hand from over your mouth to your shoulder to mitigate your squirming.

You shudder at the almost compliment. Everything is electrifying, making you feel weak all over. The only strength you have is in your hands and in your thighs, your fingers digging crescents into your palms. Sukuna, as many times as you two have engaged, has never cared to even pay an ounce of attention to your pleasure if it wasn’t self-serving. His exploration via his newfound curiosity, though still centered on his own inquisitiveness, makes it easier to delude yourself into thinking you’re a priority. “J-just f’you, m-my Lord.” 

A low rumble vibrates throughout the two of you, an audible marker indicative of his amusement. The cry you let out from him pulling at your nipple has him bucking his hips into your futon. “Fuckin’ better be.”

Before you can affirm your allegiance, a burning in your thigh has you gasping. You wince as a sharp pain travels from there to the tip of your toes, all of your nerves standing on end as you register what’s happened to you. Squinting your eyes to look down, you see that one of his fangs from his lower mouth has sunk into the flesh there. It just barely pierces the skin, but the suddenness amplifies the pain before subsiding to a dull throb. He releases you to lick the small trickle of blood that begins to stain his lips. 

“Looks like all of you tastes good,” he laughs before sinking his teeth into your shoulder, tasting the slight saltiness in the iron notes that fill his senses. He watches his handiwork mark your skin, traveling down to the similarly colored fabric beneath you. The urge to lap it up is pushed aside for an admiration of your state of being. 

It feels strange. He’s not new to your fidgety nature, to your addiction to him. Yet the state you’re in, the way your body undulates with every probe — it ignites something new within him. With the taste of you still fresh on his tongue, he finds himself chasing a new kind of high.

The hand that plays with your nipple redirects to fondling your breast. The shock of the pain from the bite is easily overshadowed by this action, causing you to lean off the futon into his touch. Your moans flow freely into the air, as you writhe in pleasure. Between his hands and tongue, your body itself seems unable to decide where to find its bliss. It’s a sight Sukuna is beginning to find rather gratifying. You reach for your left nipple with your free hand, but it’s quickly slapped away with his right. “Always so fucking greedy.”

He finally rises to his knees again. His figure looks entirely too large on your futon. Part of you wonders if the structure can even support his weight, much less what’s about to take place. But the feeling of emptiness, the longing for him to fill you with something again, anything, overrides any and all of your worries. 

All eyes focus on you, divided between your shiny cunt saturated in his saliva and your puffy nipple reddened under his abuse. His own cocks gleam with precum and the drool dripping from his lower mouth. 

Sukuna pulls you closer, replacing his bottom right arm with the top one to stroke his second cock. He hisses at the relief, watching that needy little hole of yours clench around nothing. “Look at you,” he says breathily before spitting on your cunt with his second mouth, “no matter how many times I fill you up, you’re still such a needy little bitch.” 

He lines himself to slam into you, his top cock slapping against your abdomen. “Ahh! Fuck yes… please please please…” 

Your eyes cross with a flashing behind your lids. Jerking at the sudden stretch, you reach out to his forearm with a grip that has your nails digging into muscle. A sniffle accompanies a trail of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. The abrupt intrusion has your gummy walls gripping his cock tight, pulsating around him. 

“Fuck! Geez bitch, let up!” he half smirks with the way your pussy chokes his cock. “Gonna break it off, shit. Ay!” He slaps at your clit to catch your attention. It snaps you back to listen to his words. “Let up, damn.”

When you catch a whiff of irritation laden within his voice, you start the process of self-regulation. Breathe… Breathe… Breathe…

“There ya go…” He slowly pulls back and half-heartedly snorts at the way you’ve already saturated his length. He stops right at the tip and gleams at how your body desperately tries to suck him back in. 

“My L-”

Redirecting his hand on your breast back to your throat, you take the hint and purse your lips together. Besides a low sniffle and the tiniest of bucks from your hips, your pleas for more die within you. 

“Since you’re such a fucking slut…” He lines his bottom cock at your entrance. Its slightly thicker mushroom tip prods gently at first, teasing at the sliver of space.

“I…” A whimper catches your voice in your throat as you helplessly tremble beneath him. Chills run through you as the revelation sobers your pleasure-drunk brain. “I can’t. Ah!”

Sukuna tries not to chuckle in amusement as his cockhead bullies its way into your leaking cunt. “Yeah you can. I saw one of ya put an arm in there. Quit your whining. Fuck…” Your walls clamp down on him once he gets the tip in, and he just as tightly takes his lip between his teeth. He slowly sinks into you, feeling the way your body stretches and quivers as it accommodates the intrusion. Once his bottom cock is securely seated, he hooks your legs back into the elbows of his lower arms, his upper right occupying itself with your nipple. 

It hurts. It hurts. It… It…

The searing pain folds in on itself, condensing from the shockwave that racked you initially and focusing in on your core. It…

Your gummy walls spasm around him uncontrollably, as you latch onto him, your nails tearing into flesh and marking him as he does you so often. You don’t even hear his comments as your body tries to process what’s happening. It…

With more saliva coating the space between you from the mouth on his stomach, it makes the first few movements of his hips near comprehensible before a quick snap forces you back into reality. 

It’s bliss.

The pressure, the fullness. The way they press into grind against your g-spot with every thrust. It’s…

“S-so much!” Your brain melts and melds with the burning in your cunt as he speeds up. Each plunge into you kisses at your cervix, accentuated by the echoing squelches you two make. Your toes are curled so hard you swear it feels like they’re going to break. Just like the skin under his bottom hands, already bruising from the grips they have on your hips. 

“Don’t fuckin’ run from it. This is what you wanted, so take it.” His pace stutters when you clamp down him, but he quickly recovers and reaches down between you with a hold on your waist with his upper left arm. “That’s right, keep it tight for me.”

Everything washes over you in waves: the pain from his hands on your hips; the pleasure from the one on your nipple; the mix of them both as he pounds into you relentlessly with reckless abandon. His grunts work further to feed the arousal leaking from your cunt, while that same cunt milks both of his cocks at every turn. 

That’s why you can’t help but scream in frustration when he slows down to nearly a halt. “S-Sukuna please!” It happens so quick it takes you seconds after to process it, the stinging and reorientation of your gaze the only indicators of what’s happened. You hold your face at where he struck you. Know your place. “M-my… my Lord,” you say quietly, sniffling more from the denied orgasm rather than the strike itself, “I need—”

“Look.” All four eyes point downward and you follow their lines of vision. He’s nearly all the way out, only the tips of his cocks holding their place. He briefly glances up with one eye to ensure you’re paying attention right before he pushes back into you. He places your hand right over your abdomen as he does, and you both feel and watch the way your body molds around him, pushing against your skin and almost frighteningly bursting at the seams. 

“Nnnngh…” You sniffle as he repeats the action over and over, incrementally increasing the pace. The coil inside you tightens as you follow the rise and fall of your abdomen. Every time he impales you, your wanton moans become choked, almost as if he’s fucking your throat right through the pussy. Your nails carve chasms into his skin as you will yourself to stay tethered. Each grunt in your ear has you clamping around him, causing a stutter in his hips before driving into with more fervor. 

Sukuna pulls away a bit to take the sight in with his lower eyes. The frothing at the bases of his cocks is dizzying and has him swearing to himself. “That’s right, take it. Only thing a slut like you was made for. Nothing but a fucking pocket pussy—”

“Augh!” You cry out when your orgasm crashes over you, your thighs shaking in his hold. Sukuna  hisses at the way your walls choke him, halting as you weakly grind on him to ride out. Your chest burns with each heave, and your breath catches in your throat when you feel Sukuna slide out without much care at all. It’s then that you notice the slight chill in the air again, goosebumps pimpling your skin with the newfound sheen of sweat that covers you. 

He lets out a slow whistle with the brief comment of “Wow,” his eyes raving over every inch of you. He’s never paid much attention before, but seeing the way your eyes fall heavy and limp, much like the rest of you, this is something he might be able to get used to. His cocks twitch at the view, leaking precum and dripping in your combined wetness. It all drips down to his balls, aching, heavy, and full. “Get up.”

You try catching your breath, but moving your arms is as easy as lifting a tractor. Lead fills your limbs and renders you immobile as you continue to spasm around the ghost of his lengths that once filled you. Trembling lips move with difficulty as you try to form thoughts with the mush that’s replaced your brain. “I-I…” The dryness of your throat cracks your voice when you try again. “I c-can’t.”

With a roll of his eyes and a click of his tongue, he picks you up and leans back against the wall, situated at the head of your futon. He presses your back flush to his chest, spreading your legs open with his bottom arms while holding your throat with his upper left. 

“My Lord?” Your quizzical tone goes unnoticed, or rather, ignored as he positions your body to his liking. Despite your eagerness to please normally making the process easy, the wake of your climax makes you even more pliable.

He grabs your breast with your right, palming it briefly before forming a mouth, sucking and flicking your nipple with his new tongue. The pleasure almost stings with your newfound sensitivity, but he presses his hand firmly every time you try to squirm. The lips latch on, tugging occasionally tugging and nipping at the bud caught between them. The graze of fangs sends a shudder throughout your chest and has you whimpering beneath his touch. It’s all overwhelming again when you feel a tongue prod at your entrance, the tip of of it flicking against your core from the mouth on his stomach. 

“I didn’t say we were done.”

~~~~~~~~~~

an: hope you enjoyed! This is just the first part, but all the tags will remain on this one so to give ppl a heads up for the overall vibes. Looking forward to giving y'all the next part when it's ready!

Taglist: @yasminessims @ryomens-vixen @littlemochabunni @honeeslust @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @halobuns @gojos-thot-patrol-main @connorsui @screampied-main @lem-hhn @sugarbarbie-main

Pls lmk if you wanna be tagged/if I forgot to tag you!

[tom-whore-dleston]

well I originally wanted A Royal Longing to be a drabble but it's looking like it's gonna be a long boi. not that im complaining or anything ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm barely half way there but I need sleep for my own sanity so that's as much an update yall will get for now lol

[itsgrapes-exe]

why did Jeremy jordan put his whole Jeremy jordussy into Santa Fe prologue in the cast recording

[sayorseee]

jordan fisher really put his whole jordussy in the nobody like u climax performance and we can all be grateful for him

[floralseokjin]

Ok so I went through the notes a bit before I read the new chapter and omggg 😭I’m so excited

Like my expression went from 🙂🤨😟😯😦😧😮😲😵😳 like wow !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You really put your whole jordussy into this chapter , THANK YOU!!!!!

JORDUSSY 😭😭😭 I’m in tears lmfao but yes, yes I did!!!!!

[etherealnoir]

Jordan really did put his whole Jordussy into that one high note

Like yesss king

[biscuitsngravie]

MDNI +18

Imagine riding sukuna until your knees' check engine light comes on when he *finally* comes, leaving you a shaking mess. Only for him to lift you up and slide his second cock in, slapping your ass and going "you're not done yet." It's entertaining watching your weak body do its best to start again for oh so long before he's fucking it into you, smiling as his cum drips down both you two's thighs. One set of hands on your thighs/hips, one hand playing with your nipple, and one bringing a blunt to his mouth. He blows the smoke in your face and gives one of those deep chest chuckles when you start to cry. "whiny lil bitch." (he loves it)

[biscuitsngravie]

sunday morning

Getou Suguru x Reader

MDNI 18+

cw/tw: vaginal fingering, morning wood, piv sex, sleepy sex, cockwarming

wc: 771

the light feeds through the sheer curtains on the window. It dances across your skin, just barely illuminating your sleeping form. with one eye cracked open, he observes the way casualness at which the ethereal caresses you in every way. he pulls you close, slightly dismayed when you stir awake. "sorry, love."

"s'fine," you mumble, nuzzling into him. his embrace engulfs you, his weight more comforting than the blanket over you both. despite the warmth you find in his arms, the heat between his legs seems a lot more urgent. "already?"

his breath hitches when you press your hips to his. it has him twitching in his boxers and rutting against you ever so slightly. "can't help it, baby. it's-"

"it's only natural," you cut him off with a chuckle. even in your jest, you feel yourself warming with each lazy grind of your hips. sleep fights hard to take you in a tug of war against your increasing desperation for stimulation. geto makes it no better when he encapsulates your hip in one hand, guiding your movements to match his. heated breaths replace morning yawns in the chase for friction, the thin cloths separating you two proving all too thick as you both throb horribly in your aches for more.

the useless clenching between your legs proves too much which has you stopping and clutching his shirt. it sparks pause in his movement, geto waking up almost fully to eye your expression. "suguru… please."

a smirk wastes no time to take the place of confusion. with one hard thrust that has you squealing, he asks, "already?"

"don't be a tease, it's-"

"it's only natural," he finishes for you with a low rumble in his chest. he closes the gap between you to whisper in your ear. "now turn around for me, babygirl."

a light smack to your ass wakes you up enough to follow directions. once you're lying on your right, he pulls you snug against his bulge, groaning and pressing it against your asscheeks. you try matching his movements just to have him stop you again. "su-"

he stuffs your mouth with two fingers and presses them flat against your tongue. he pushes them as far as he can, sighing in satisfaction when hears you gag around them. "i know, i know. geez babe, so needy so early in the morning."

your throat constricts around the digits briefly before he uses his other hand to pull your panties to the side. sliding his slick covered fingers through your slit, he pinches your clit lightly between the knuckles. "ahh- mmmfuck…"

"looks like i didn't need to anyway. always so wet for me." he's able to find your entrance and slip the fingers in with ease. usually it's calculated, methodical in the way he indulges in pleasuring you. but knowing your impatience, he focuses on stretching you open, scissoring to ease the tension on that tight ring of muscles. "that's right…" you clench around him with the way his voice moves like a honeyed mead from your ear down to your cunt. "i know baby, give daddy a minute."

"sugur-"

"can you give me a fucking," he slips his cock out of his boxers, moving quick to bottom out in you, "minute."

you choke on your own breath as your cunt spasms around him. clawing at the blankets, you try to adjust despite the burn of the sudden stretch.

"nothin' to say?" geto pulls out almost completely before slamming back inside, holding onto you so that you don't completely lurch forward.

"always crying about some shit," he grits out as he sets a pace. "'suguru' this and 'suguru' that, all for the same shit. oh! ah ah ah, don't start running now!"

he grabs your wrists as you reach out for purchase, holding them behind your back as he continues to pump in you. "i-i… i just-"

"'i-i-,'" he mocks, slowing down to drag his cock along your walls. "you what? tell me."

the change in pace has your brain melting. each vein is tracked as it slides across your gummy walls. you mewl in response, unable to form a sentence as you succumb to his touch in totality. "i don't know," you slur, rocking your hips unconsciously to spur him back into his previous pace.

he grabs your hip to still you for the last time. "then you're not getting shit until you find out."

and that's how you found yourself in the late morning, pussy occasionally squeezing around him, itching for more. But you don't dare move, even when your gentle calls of "suguru?" are answered with soft snores.

a/n: i want tostitos

taglist: @yasminessims@ryomens-vixen @littlemochabunni@honeeslust @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @halobuns @connorsui @gojos-thot-patrol-main

[biscuitsngravie]

"filthy."

nanami x reader

cw: nanami x reader, bondage, edging (kinda?), hair pulling, teasing, degradation, humiliation

wc: 446

Nanami's thick, throbbing dick, leaking precum on the floor in front of you. You just out of reach, tied with your hands behind your back and on your knees. You watch it subtly twitch with it's angry red tip, the slit oozing as it begs for attention. You have to watch it all go to waste and stain the floor beneath you because in his words, "Slutty little brats don't deserve my cum."

He smacks you across the thighs when he notices them rubbing together to soothe the aching in that filthy pussy of yours.

If you weren't so busy moaning like a whore you'd notice the way his own thighs tensed as he listens to you between each strike. He's just short of rutting into your air as you apologize, drawing out "Daddyyyy," like it's the only word you know. If you weren't so busy getting off on the reddening on the meat of your thighs, you might even notice the way his nostrils flair as he watches your nipples come to small peaks; the way he squeezes the edge of the arm rest on the chair so hard he's sure he'll split the wood.

It's not until you start sniffling does he take his free hand (the one not busy intermittently smacking with the riding crop) does he finally touch his weeping dick. He hisses at first, his body tightening up before it begins to relax and buck into his hand.

his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he trembles ever so slightly, increasing the pace as he chases his high. his hand isn't as tight and warm as your cunt, but watching your waiting and needy mouth desperately trying to catch what falls is almost as gratifying.

your pliable body obeys every subtle command of his grip on your hair, even when he adjusts you so that you're just out of reach of his cum. he catches a glance at the shining that's beginning to gather between your thighs and grunts as squeezes his thumb over his slit. your silent cries of "please, Daddy," are what pushes him over the edge, causing him to come right on… the floor.

you whine as you watch him pump everything mere inches away from where your knees sit in front of you, nearly breaking out into a sob. you don't even react when he drops his grip on your hair and stalks around you, untying your restraints. the only thing bringing you back to reality from the depths of your own sorrow besides the newfound throbbing of your body as it's freed is the gruff of his voice on your ear.

"now clean it up."

taglist: @yasminessims @ryomens-vixen @littlemochabunni @honeeslust @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @halobuns

[biscuitsngravie]

MDNI 18+

"come on baby, I wanna hear you... tell me how much you love Daddy's cock..."

"Gojo-san, I'm sure you can see she's busy."

Nanami slides his dick out your mouth, watching the way you tongue lolls out as it briefly drags up the length of his shaft. He can see the glazed over look in your eyes despite your head hanging upside-down from the bed. He plays with the mixture of drool and precum staining around you mouth rather gently despite the way he was just fucking your throat. "besides, our pretty girl knows better than to talk with her mouth full."

[biscuitsngravie]

"time's up."

levi x reader

cw: piv, no prep, blowjob, degradation, orgasm denial, rawwwwww

wc: 2,004

Levi is… irritated. 

Well, that's the closest to describing the mixture of emotions he’s feeling during this “interaction.” 

“Irritated” could best refer to the heat between his legs. The heat that he is praying isn’t visible as he steps behind the desk to sit during the debriefing on the mission. This room is too full of people for you to be such a shameless slut. You wearing that too small top — the one he told you to throw away — and that too small skirt — that he’s sure he threw away — while looking up with… those eyes.

You. 

You. 

Youyouyouyouyo—

“Ah! And that’s how we make the double decoy! Right, Captain Levi?”

To others his face is deceptively neutral, well, as neutral as a resting bitch face can be. But you, Honee, you know better than anyone else. You’re the only one who notices the extra firm grip he has on his teacup, the cool flame that ignites behind his eyes the way he pointedly avoids meeting your gaze. And surely the squirming from the continuous pressing of your thighs has caught his peripheral at least once or twice. 

“Right. That’s it for now. We’ll do a test run in forty-five minutes. Gear up and be ready to leave.” The room empties rather quickly after a quick salute. And of course… you are the last to leave. “Honee.”

You jump out your skin, your back already turned from him, but too far from the door to craft the excuse of not hearing him. Your mouth upturns into a grin that you’re sure would accrue more points towards your impending punishment. So you remain with your back turned to him, answering an all too even voice, “Yes?”

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve.” slow and deliberate footsteps stalk behind you, growing louder than the thrumming in your chest and between your legs. He stops just barely short of touching you, lowering his voice so that it sits as not much more than a gentle purr against  your ear. “I expect to see you in the field. Dressed properly.”

He walks around you out the door, presumably to his office to retrieve his gear. It’s only once you hear the click of the door followed by fading footsteps do you finally breathe. You bite your lip and groan, gripping the hem of your skirt to keep from reaching a hand up it instead.

Your feet move faster than your brain,  flying to his study. It was always this with you two: some seemingly innocuous thing catches his attention, to which he finds stress relief and solace in your slutty little pussy. Though this time his distress lies with the very one he comes to for comfort (of sorts), and the very thought of it is proving to be the bane of his existence.

After three quick raps, an enthusiastic “Enter,” allows you in. He’d be disgusted at your perverted mind if you admitted that his look of disdain had you nearly crying down your legs. That, punctuated by a curt “What?” has you biting back a small whimper. 

“I—” you cut yourself off as you evaluate your best course of action. Outright asking for it has proven effective in the past, but the egregiousness of your behaviour has finally hit you . Before speaking again, you begin racking your brain for a suitable game plan. 

Unbeknownst to you, it draws a long pause, to which he prompts, “I don’t have all day.”

His voice makes you flinch as it snaps you back to him out of your cluttered brain. “I’m sorry!” you blurt aloud without much thought. 

“I hate liars,” he grunts as he tightens the fastenings on his gear. His hands move methodically over the latches, ensuring he doesn’t slam someone in the face with a cartridge of spare blades that come loose. “Hurry up before—”

“I just!” you shrug as you look off to the side, your face tingling with a warmth as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “I just wanted some attention, I don’t know,” is finally pushed through in a low mumble.

Levi closes the gap between you two, grabbing your face in his hands to turn you back towards him. When your eyes drift away, he follows their gaze until you’re forced to succumb to his intense eye contact. “Are you saying I don’t give you enough attention?”

Your eyes nearly bug out. “No! It’s just that—”

“If you wanted more attention you could just say that. But no, you decided to be a fucking brat, instead,” he grits. Your eyes swell up a bit, your wires crossed between a growing fear and an intense need. 

While you decide which emotion to land on, Levi stalks over to his chair back behind his desk. He spreads his legs and points to the floor. Without even a hint of shame, your feet fold over each other to kneel not too far from the bulge in his pants. Your mouth begins to salivate at the sight, but you will them to make contact with grey ones that hold a cool flame behind their irises. 

Levi is nearly impressed with how quickly you take position: your legs folded under you with your hands folded in your lap. It’s easy to see your shameless cleavage from this angle, and part of him passively wonders if you’re overdue for a tit job. He pushes the thought away immediately. No matter how nice his cum looks painting your skin, he needs to focus. 

“Go ahead.”

The simple command has you clawing at his belt buckle. Your fingers make quick work of it all, grateful in the way he lifts his hips for you to pull them down a bit. You don’t even care enough to bring them to his ankles, only down to the knee as you begin to try and free his still hardening dick from his boxers. You use the hole in the front to let it spring upwards towards his abdomen. It’s only a second before you’re wrapping your lips around the head, suckling at the slit as you lap up the precum that’s already begun to drip there. 

Though he’s silent, the twitch in his cock when he feels you moaning in satisfaction is enough for you. You bob your head a bit, holding the base to keep steady as you swirl your tongue around the shaft. Your neglected clit is only soothed with the feeble rubbing of your thighs. You rock back and forth a bit, feeling the wetness coating your thighs grow. 

“Do what you must,” he sighs in faux exasperation, hiding his own arousal in the fingers gripping his chair, “you have my full attention.”

The purr in his voice as he eggs you on goes straight to your core, just like the hand now playing with your clit through your underwear. Unsurprisingly, you’re met with an undeniable wetness, your own arousal having completely drenched the fabric. 

Two deft fingers massage your aching clit as you work on him in earnest. You pull away to breathe and pool your saliva a bit, opening your mouth to watch it coat the length of his dick. As much as Levi hates a mess, you’re his favorite one to clean up. Watchful eyes follow you as you trace the prominent vein on the left side of his cock. His nostrils flare as the only sign of his arousal he allows through. 

Your own body almost feels as if it’s vibrating with need. Levi’s gaze remains uninterrupted, deceivingly bored if it weren’t for the tension in his jaw. You feel naked under his eyes, for he misses nothing. Goosebumps pimple your skin, the vulnerability that rocks you urges you to cover yourself and incites a newfound search for modesty. The way desperate fingers fight against cotton to finger your leaking pussy definitely doesn’t go unnoticed. 

Whether it’s annoyance with the pathetic display before him, or his other head thinking, he waves you off his cock, much to your  disappointment. You bite back a whine, confused on your infraction, yet trying to avoid another. His voice breaches right through your developing spiral. “Sit.”

Perplexed, you tilt your head and adjust your posture. “I am…”

His facial expression doesn’t change. After a few moments you process the command and excitedly climb into his lap. After a few moments of maneuvering yourself around his gear to properly straddle his lap. Arms cradle his neck in glee, but he lets himself all but be pulled into a kiss. “You have fifteen minutes to get yourself off.”

You begin to open your mouth to protest, but the look he gives you kills any argument you could muster. 

Do I make myself clear?

Fifteen minutes. 

How much to spend on prep? On stretching? Is worth it to tease yourself a bit or—

“Fourteen.”

“Levi!” you shriek in a mini panic. A grip on your chin ends your oncoming tantrum. Fix your tone. Your voice gets smaller now, meek. “It’s not fair…” you mumble.

“Now you care about fair?”

“I just—”

“For someone closing in on thirteen minutes, you sure spend a lot of time talking.”

“Levi please,” you start getting worried now. You keep your voice hushed, but maintain your urgency. 

“Please what?”

Bingo. You’ve won.

The poutiest of lips. The truest of doe eyes. The vulnerability found in an unabashedly neediest of voices. “Can you fuck me?”

Levi’s hand is over your mouth in flash. Momentary confusion is interrupted by a burning between your legs, your cry muffled by a thick layer of calluses. Tears prickle your cheeks, your sniffle all but dying in his palm. You clench uncontrollably around him as you register that he’s bottomed out in one swoop.

Running his other hand up and down your back, he lets your mouth go free as he tucks your face into his neck. He saves the comment on the mess you’re making there as he repositions his hands to your hips. He lifts you up and…

“This is what you wanted,” he cooes.

Slam.

“You wanted attention, huh?” he scoffs.

Slam.

“Bullshit.” 

His thrusts speed up, the clanking of his equipment joining the cacophony of sounds the two of you are making; the papping of your asscheeks against his pants; your sniffles twisting into groans; his intermittent grunts as he listens to the wet sounds of your pussy taking him over and over and—

Fuck!

“You’re a fucking riot. Couldn’t survive without it for a week.” he curses to himself when he hears you mewl, every decibel going straight to his dick. “Putting this on. What do you have to say for yourself? Ah?”

He pounds into you from below, his gear rustling erratically as he forces his hips to meet yours. A quick smack to your ass wakes you up beyond your wanton moans. “Ah! I-I…” your mind starts to melt when he comes down to a slow grind, dragging his thick cock along your abused, gummy walls. 

He grabs a fistful of you r hair to pull you back. Puffy and weary-eyed, your lip trembles as you futility try to gather your thoughts. “Don’t cry now. You weren’t crying when you put this shit on.”

“L-Levi, I—”

He stops you with a hand in your face and checks the time. Without much ado, slides you off his lap, not sparing you so much as a glance wen you wince. “Time’s up.”

“Levi!” you shriek, entirely too loud. 

“Volume,” is his only warning as he tucks himself into his pants. He grabs a spare handkerchief to clean where you leaked out and prays it’s not noticeable. 

“What am I supposed to—”

“You were supposed to get yourself off, you understand?” his tone sharp, only surpassed by his gaze. “Not my fault you’re a faulty little cockslut and got distracted.”

He leaves you to yourself, not before smirking when he sees the dripping between your legs. Levi hates messes, but this is one he can get behind. 

an: i tried something new. i'm gonna try again soon. after this is true form s*kuna x reader cause im a monsterfucker first before a fraudkuna hater, so ig ill be putting my whole jordussy into it 😭

taglist: @honeeslust @blkkizzat @arlerts-angel @halobuns

[biscuitsngravie]

gangsta fairytale (shanks x reader)

cw/tw: mafia/gang setting, age gap (shanks 39, reader 22), fem reader, kidnapping (brief), not exactly a sugar daddy but he we love extravagant flauntings of wealth & financial security, smut lol, piv sex, size kink (he’s 6’6 like cmon LMAO), exhibitionism, we cum inside cause its fun inside, breeding kink, dacryphillia, nickname for reader is “buttercup, and pretty girl” unprotected sex, slightly public sex? Smol mention, belly bulge

part 2 -- part 3

At a club on a thursday night cause you wanted to go, but your friends aren’t free till the weekend and you couldn’t wait. But of course that means it’s mostly a sausage party even tho girls get in free before ten cause it’s still a thursday. And every sausage in the party wants your attention

You’re at the bar nursing a drink wondering why you even came and start debating to leave when a very not sleezy looking guy comes up to you and asks “you wanna know my favorite number?” right before leaning way too close to whisper in your ear “69” before you can even turn to scowl at him

Shanks who grabs the hand that’s about to grab your waist (unbeknownst to you) and leans down to ask the guy “you wanna know my favorite number?” his voice is so heavy you can feel the vibration in your own chest despite the blaring music. You turn around to see an absolute tree of a man and you don’t know if your fight or flight or fuck is kicking in

The guy scurries off cause like….its fucking shanks

Instead of being a bigger fish to outsleeze the guy he asks if you’re alright. You just kinda nod and give a half-assed “yeah” with your eyes mostly down and away from him. He just nods back and taps the bar as he gets ready to leave going “well be safe out here” and it’s that that has you asking him to stay. You insist you wanna buy him a drink and it’s not too hard to convince him to stay for free alcohol so he does.

He compliments your fit casually and is your face warm? No, it’s the alcohol silly. You start talking about all the annoying guys here and how “uncouth” they are (he raises his eyebrows at that one) as you just complain about how “there’s piss in the dating pool.” you wonder if you’ll just have to find the “least shitty” person and settle with them

He starts talking less as you enter your tirade. Eyeing you down and going “well if you don’t mind hanging out with this old fart, i can show you how we did dating back in the day.” you try to give him your snapchat but he doesn’t have it and can’t work it even when you get him to download it, so you just give him your number instead

He tells you to shoot him a text that you got home safe and you think it’s cheesy but you do it anyway

The date is super nice, he takes you to this really nice cafe you’ve been meaning to go to. It’s kinda strange cause the menu doesn’t have prices so it’s hard to choose (being a college student and all) but he assures you he’ll cover the bill and to eat your heart out. After that he takes you on a ferry ride and talks about history on every part of the waterfront. It’s then that you find out he’s in love with the sea and the taste of adventure, but he’s (mostly) settled down nowadays. You hope you can go on an adventure with him one day

You two spend a lot of time talking together (you mostly about your classes and professor drama, him mostly about his adventures in his youth, it’s then that he tells you he’s 39) and spend the waning hours of daylight shoreside, and as the sun sets he maps out the stars for you

“Not to be too forward, but i’d love to steal more of your time.”

So you guys go on another date. And another. And an—

Part of you wonders if/when he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend, but you don’t wanna do the “what are we?” talk, so instead you do your best to enjoy whatever it is you do have. No matter how many times he grabs you by the chin to face him when you’re looking off into the distance asking “what’s up, buttercup?” you just give the same variation of nothing answers. He knows what you want, but he’s scared to give it to you cause of who he is. If only you knew.

You’re walking down the street one day and try to ignore the scurrying behind you. You knew you should’ve left the library earlier, as the days are getting shorter, but the project is due this friday and—

You can’t even scream properly since they cover your mouth first. Your keys are between your fingers, but they grabbed your wrists at the same time. You’re blindfolded and gagged, delicately (as possible) placed in the backseat of a car. They keep saying how perfect you are for their boss and a bag of rocks drops from your stomach to your ass 

They take you inside a building, up an elevator and blah blah blah, they take your blindfold off and “present” you to their…

“Shanks!”

“Watch your mouth!” one of them is about to smack you for the disrespect but shanks stops him with a raise of his hand and gives a sign to untie you. You run to him on his ridiculously fancy chair and hop in his arms crying about how these guys kidnapped you and were going to send you to some creep

He asks if you’re hurt, his frown lines pressed into his face as he realizes how bad you’re trembling. He holds you close when you look at him with tears in your eyes, wobbly lips, and a shaky voice saying you’re fine. 

If looks could kill, the pair would’ve been incinerated on the spot. But they can’t. So shanks sends them away for a more effective method. They’re never seen again.

It’s then that he says he tells you that he’s the boss. You don’t understand at first until he explains that he’s “inherited” the title since the passing of his father as the crowned prince of the organization

While you’re trying to process it, he explains that that’s why he never asked you to become official with him. That and he didn’t wanna “steal your youth” away from you. But after you beg to stay with him despite it all, he sighs and says he has to be a “real man and stop pussyfitting around.” you’re his girl, and he should’ve been man enough to admit it and take care of you like he should have

Yall are official now. :)

@honeeslust here ya go!

[biscuitsngravie]

fics for december

i dont do events and stuff like that, so pls dont think this is a kinkmas thing. this is just my lineup for december. lmk if you wanna be tagged. tbh?? im gonna upload all of these mfs on the same day LMAO. with the possible exception of the two nurse geto ones since that's a collab with @yasminessims <3

the last one (getou x stripper reader) is a long fic, so at MOST it'll get started in december, but def aint finna be done lol

levi x reader: Ssshhh🤫

your needy ass couldnt wait til you got home, so now he has to fuck you in an empty room. be quiet. or else

shanks x reader: gangsta fairytale

hc style even tho i got carried away. mafia au. i aint go much to say, this was just brain worms

sukuna x reader: what that mouth do?

this is just like...pure horny. we're doing true form sukuna, we're doing double cocks, we're doing mouths everywhere and anywhere, and you know we puttin tummy mouth to work! (this is the one that won the poll)

SatoSugu: just like that...

*tag is correct for positions. this one is a surprise.

Nurse Geto x Gojo: ails that plague the healthy

gojo gets hurt and the nurse who triages him is hot. unbelievably so. all of a sudden he's the "clumsiest" bastard alive. this one is a collab with @yasminessims and we're doing a fem and masc version!

getou x stripper!reader — carousels and wishing wells: a tale of poles, pussy, and power

i dont even have the braincells to describe this one. ur a stripper. he's a client. need i say more? i wanna bring a *slightly* more realistic approach to this one (having been the child of actual sex workers sfhsklf) hence why it's gonna be long as fuck lol

i have time to finish all of these in december tbh, but if i need more time ill just upload all of them in january. i dont feel like posting more than once, so if anything ill just save them in my drafts. that way i can add anyone who wants to be tagged accordingly. i'll let yall know when i have a date. tbh i really wanna finish them this month cause i wanna finish my book in january before i start the next one in august😭

if you wanna be tagged in anything in particular or in all of them lmk. ill reblog this regularly

[biscuitsngravie]

Our Eternity

cw/tw: vampire!gojo, blood, blood drinking, satoru x suguru, accidental fluff

Summary: Gojo says he's a vampire. Geto "believes" him until he one day he's met with a starved beast in his kitchen.

Part Two

The two lay in bed, Gojo snuggled into Getou’s chest, his breath rising and falling ever so gently. The fingers massaging his scalp with occasional twirls of his hair coax him further into the abyss of sleep. His stubbornness, much like an unruly newborn, wills him to stay awake. He feels rumbling in Geto’s chest before he hears the hushed chuckle. Rubbing his face into his boyfriend’s side and tightening his grip around him, Gojo sleepily asks, “Whats so funny?”

Geto smiles and kisses the top of his head. “I’m on TikTok, you wanna see?” he offers as he prepares what he really wants to say. He brings the phone to Gojo’s face when he feels an affirmative hum, unsurprised his boyfriend can barely keep his eyes open. “You should get some sleep,” he whispers, a kiss to the forehead this time. 

“Don’t wanna,” Gojo grumbles in protest, “wanna spend time with you.” he nuzzles in the crook Geto’s armpit, as though that’s the way he can finally fuse with him. Being this close is never close enough, even with his body clinging to him as desperately as drops of morning dew on a young sprout.If Geto won’t turn, the least he could do is let Gojo live in his skin.

Geto takes the hint and puts his phone off to the side, enveloping Gojo in his embrace. He sighs as he does so, feeling Gojo become more relaxed in his arms. “You’ve been up all day and you wanna stay up all night, too? Hm? It’s already two-thirty.”

— — —

“Day.” “Night.” such trivial words these were, said without a second thought until Gojo came up to him one day saying, “I’m a vampire,” later clarifying only half on his mother’s side. At the time Geto tried to ignore the serious look in his eye, desperate to convince his dear Satoru and himself that the timing was ill-fitting as it was too late for April Fool’s, and too early for Halloween. 

But all it took was tiniest quiver of a lip and one soft plea for Geto to believe him. Or at least say he believed him. Though he couldn’t accept it at first, whatever Satoru was going through was real to him, and that’s all that mattered. 

Except… he’s actually a fucking vampire. 

“But I’ve seen you in the sun?!”

“Pfft, not everyone burns in the sun, Sugu, I don’t have that gene.”

“But what about fangs?”

“Retractable.”

“We had garlic bread last week!”

“Ugh, that was a myth. This one guy was allergic and it started a whole thing,” he waved off, rolling his eyes, “Honestly it was  a meme, but humans got a hold of it—”

“You guys had memes?!”

At that Gojo had scoffed. “Yes! We didn’t have a word for it, yet, but yeah. We wanted to see how long it would take for you guys to figure it out. It’s been… a couple hundred years now…”

The flurry of questions and come when Gojo stumbled in after a seventy-four hour shift at the hospital. His limitless battery working on surgery after surgery following a train derailing had finally drained. Though his stamina was far beyond that of any vampire and undoubtedly above any humans, the mental strain and extensive procedures were his perfect counter. It only made sense that he’d mistakenly wandered into Geto’s apartment unannounced using his copy of the key. Geto was startled awake from a bang and incoherent grumbling. 

“Where the fuck is it?!”

Rushing to his kitchen in nothing but his boxers he saw it: pointed ears, extended claws, bared fangs and pupils that sat as slits in deep maroon eyes. He seemed bigger than usual, despite being hunched slightly in aggravation, in hunger. A low growl escaped him before his expression of anger was replaced by that of confusion. He blinked a few times before speaking, not bothering to wipe the drool dripping down his chin. His face softened, though his features remained sharp. “Suguru? What are you doing here?”

Geto couldn’t process the question at first, trying to take it all in: the adrenaline from thinking someone broke into his home; the relief that it was his boyfriend being stupid, only to find him like…this. A million thoughts raced through his mind, yet none were voiced from his mouth as it hung agape. 

Holy shit. He’s actually a vampire.

“I-It’s… my apartment…”

Gojo looked at him incredulously at first before taking a look around. Groaning in embarrassment, he slapped his hand to his face, making Geto wonder how he hadn’t poked an eye out. “Fuck I’m…” his posture straightened as he tried to hide his features, forcing them to retract. “Shit, did I wake you?”

“What were you looking for?” he almost wanted to kick himself in his own ass for asking such a stupid question, so followed up with, “I can help you.”

If Geto had hearing anywhere near the quality of Gojo’s he’d have heard the vampire’s heart beating so wildly it sounded as if it was daring to jump out his chest. Drool trickled out the corners of both sides of his mouth, his tongue helplessly flapping around as he imagined what Geto tasted like. It wouldn’t be the first time, and quite honestly, with his level of smelling Gojo could almost construct a flavor profile. But this, being offered—

“Satoru?”

The thought of how nice it would be. When was the last time he had a taste? Warm, fresh from—

“You there?”

His fangs bared again, his claws and ears slowly peeking through as he dizzied himself with the possibilities. The places he’d bite. How. It wasn’t until Geto flicked his forehead to bring him back to reality. He was shaken back to reality to see a disgruntled Geto. 

“Go sit on the couch. Now.”

Aimlessly nodding, he followed hand in hand. When sat he had watched as Geto fiddled with his own hands at first, his leg bouncing as he tried to adjust. Shaky hands combed through ever still unfettered bedhead as a form of self-soothing before finally sweeping his hair to one side, his eyes looking expectantly at Gojo before looking downward.

“Are…” Gojo bit his lip, covered in saliva that was ever pouring out now as he listened to the racing of Geto’s heart, the beat starting to resemble his own. He grabbed Geto’s hand and interlaced their fingers. “Are you sure?”

“What…” Geto took a deep breath in futility to calm his heart, “what happens if you don’t drink…blood?” it took a moment for him to look up at Gojo, to really take him in. He looked so… so different. So angular, so hungry, starved even. The red in his eyes taking over the blue Geto was used to seeing almost felt scary, and yet…yet he looked just the same. Just like his Satoru.

Seeing Geto’s gaze soften, Gojo took the chance to get closer to him on the couch. “Well… first we get really irritable—”

“You don’t say,” Geto snorted, rolling his eyes.

Gojo chuckled in slight embarrassment, squeezing his hand. “And depending on how long it’s been, our bodies go into like… this ‘survival’ mode, kind of. We don’t have a name for it yet, but it’s like… all our senses are heightened to find blood. As much of it as we can, as soon as we can. And if that goes on for too long, we kinda go…” wary of scaring him, Gojo decided to keep the details to himself, grateful when he received an understanding nod. “Yeah.”

Geto thought everything over for some time and sighed to himself, resolute in his decision. “Your house is too far, I don’t think you’d make it so…” he bared his neck once again and hoped he didn’t come off as stiff as he felt. 

In his right mind, Gojo would have argued with him, assured him that he’d make it home just fine. He would have teased him, telling him that drinking from the neck is a silly little human thing. He would have had so much to say. But he wasn’t. He was a slave to his body and his needs, and more than anything, there was only one thought on repeat in his head. 

Feed.

Closing the gap between them, he took Geto’s face in his hand to turn his face back towards him, smiling as softly as he could before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. A silent thank you hung between them when they pulled away. Gojo kept eye contact as he untangled their fingers and brought Geto’s wrist to his mouth. 

He watched as his eyes widened at the realization, then contorted in pain as his fangs sunk beneath his skin. Gojo could hear it, feel it in his pulse as Geto’s heart raced. He brought a hand to his cheek to soothe him, willing him to breathe. He placed his hand over Geto’s chest and began modeling slowed breaths, waiting for him to come down with him. As Geto followed suit, the real event began, as Gojo began to drink. 

The initial pierce of skin was already tantalizing, but to taste him, to feel him. The warmth against his tongue and in his throat was like a high in itself, making his skin tingle and his vision blur as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. He was savory, a slight saltiness underlying his complex flavor. Gojo grunted in satisfaction, moving his hand from Geto’s chest to his thigh to keep himself steady. As some of the blood leaked from beneath his lips, the smell wafted into his nostrils, causing a moan to vibrate between the two of them. 

In his right mind he would’ve checked on his Suguru, would have searched his face for discomfort, asked questions on if he needed a break. In his right mind, Gojo would’ve stopped a minute ago, trying to take very little to keep his boyfriend from suffering side effects apart from dizziness. But in his right mind he was not. He wanted to take take take. He needed it, he needed to feed. He was already so greedy for everything Geto had to offer him, and this was no exception. 

When Gojo pulled back with a glaze over his eyes, his irises returning to his signature blue, all he could do was smile dopily as he met tired eyes. He licked the wounds to encourage them to close and nuzzled his mostly clean cheek against Geto’s. “M’sorry,” he whispered.

“S’fine,” Geto responded weakly. “Are you good now? All your,” he gestured haphazardly, his arms feeling as fragile as twigs as he did, “stuff disappeared.”

“I am, thank you. So much.”

Geto only hummed in response, already at threat of dozing off. “Is poppin’ a boner while feeding a vampire thing, too?” he asked cheekily, assuming his own answer when Gojo changed a few hues. 

“Uh… that’s just a me thing,” a Suguru thing, to be quite honest. “Why, you wanna take care of it?” he asked with a smirk, kissing the two small dots on his wrist.

Getou glared through his delirium. “You want my blood and for me to take care of your boner? Never knew I was dating someone so selfish—”

“You offered!”

“Yeah cause you looked like shit!”

“Well now you look like shit!”

“Well whose fault is that?!”

Gojo rolled his eyes as he stood up, gathering an uncharacteristically willing Geto in his arms to carry him back to his bed. “Let’s get you back to sleep.”

“I’m not a baby,” he grumbled, his voice too soft to hold a real argument anymore as he drifted.

“You’re mine.”

“Fuck you.”

“When you feel better.”

— — —

That was three years ago. Feeding had become a bonding time for the two as Geto learned about vampire culture. He learned about the nuances of the use of the terms “night” and “day,” and spent copious hours studying the history and biology of hereditary and turned vampirism. He’d spent so much time telling Gojo no to his one request since he’d disclosed his status, scared of more things than a man could count (though maybe not a vampire). His brain was once foggy and muddied with the thoughts that would no longer pass through, but make camp in his mind. Once the internal council came to a conclusion, peace finally took stake in his heart. 

July 25

“Satoru…” he says so softly that the only weight it holds is everlasting fondness. “I think I’m ready to turn.”

Gojo’s eyes snap open.

------

an: so this was supposed to be a smut piece but i wrote fluff by accident. part two will have the smut, dont u worry! 🫡 im uploading this part rn tho instead of waiting till tomorrow to start it cause i am impatient 🫡 this is a mini fic spinoff from my original nanami vamp fic that im not uploading anymore dsofoshdl

[biscuitsngravie]

MDNI

After Nanami finishes eating you out, he comes up and whispers in your ear "gochisousamadeshita"

[biscuitsngravie]

cw / tw drug use and mention

I heard all of two (2) ✌🏾 sentences about what drugs what jjk characters use, and I already KNOW sukuna finna just make some new shit up. Gon grow mushrooms in soil with meth as fertilizer, and spraying it with a CBD infused solution for "healthy growth" 😭