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gojorgeous · 8 months

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"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off.

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all.

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it.

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married.

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags.

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding.

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times.

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying.

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance.

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold.

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income.

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me?

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of.

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.”

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before.

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.”

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you.

“Yes, my lady?”

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?”

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps.

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you?

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness.

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing.

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home.

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come.

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly.

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning.

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags.

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle.

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and-

“Do you like them?”

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie.

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him.

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained?

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.”

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.”

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips.

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.”

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling.

“Of course… Satoru.”

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet.

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies.

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.”

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever…

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.”

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming?

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.”

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?”

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks.

“Not tonight.”

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch.

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence.

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone.

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened.

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed?

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense.

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person.

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all.

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking.

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?”

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver.

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.”

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.”

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains.

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in.

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you.

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again.

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse.

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas.

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume.

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.”

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.”

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin.

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?”

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.”

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room.

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough.

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue.

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.”

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?”

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?”

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight?

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you?

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse.

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone.

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon.

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare.

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge.

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he?

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you.

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right?

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there.

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”.

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye.

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.”

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further.

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages.

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.”

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph.

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe?

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.”

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second.

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.”

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening.

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.”

No, no, no.

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible.

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru.

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows.

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense.

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting.

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?”

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.”

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you.

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further.

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…”

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you.

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does.

“About the estate?” he asks.

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?”

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.”

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.”

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-”

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why.

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him.

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…”

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch.

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine?

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?”

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real.

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point.

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in.

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.”

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him.

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?”

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.”

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.”

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight.

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago.

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?”

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?”

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be.

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?”

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe.

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.”

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?”

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone.

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin.

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt.

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.”

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has.

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less.

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning.

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long.

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked.

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity-

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re–

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature.

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.”

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper.

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust.

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb.

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.”

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?”

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer.

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?”

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch.

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.”

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod.

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth–

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing?

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire.

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.”

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is.

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move.

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop.

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake.

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.”

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision.

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer.

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done.

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation.

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.”

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp.

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts.

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–”

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin.

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants.

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath.

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments.

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…”

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come.

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull.

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens.

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like.

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants.

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago.

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave.

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

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screampied · 5 months

Note

YOU AND YOUR BRILLIANT WRITING ARE AMAZING OMGOMG. all i’ve been thinking about is the jjk men getting their girl LMAO yk breeeeeding until actual mind break w the goal just being planting a seed in your tummy 🫠

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ GETTING A SCREAMPIE !!!! ’﹒

𐚁̸ sum. top jjk men and how they breed you + toji, gojo, sukuna, choso, mdni.

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, brēeding kink, unprotected, size kink, oral (f), dirty talk, daddy kink, missiōnary, mating press, cowgirl / rev, mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, bum ass toji, sukuna has two cawks. an thank yewwww !!

☆ CHOSO KAMO

probably the heaviest breeding kink known to man—he’s half curse so he’s infertile.

choso knows the inability to reproduce but he always takes it as an opportunity to stuff you full, again, and again, and again.

“o-one more,” he breathes out, his voice was so breathy, clinging onto each breath that yanks out from esophagus. drowsy eyes shut tight as he’s watching such ropes of his cum already ooze out of both holes. choso’s ears feel fuzzy—he feels fuzzy, but the only thing that was currently on his mind was his goal to make your tummy all plump and rounded. laid flat against your back, you stare as he hovers over you with a cute pout on his lips. his jaw tightens before he pulls out just to stare at the mess between your thighs. “one more, baby. ‘m still full, s—so fuckin’ full,” and he leans in for a kiss, a deep one that’s enlaced with a mixture of your saliva and his. choso’s breath is heavy, he’s heaving as his body pressed into you—thick hands reaching between your thighs just to plug his own seed back into you. “don’t waste it, okay? i saved all of it. saved it just for you, just for us...”

his voice was so tender, such smoothness lingers underneath it as your legs tightly snake around his waist. choso’s staring at you, so in love—he’s always been in love with you though. he was obsessed with you, although his new current obsession was seeing you with a swollen tummy.

again, he’s infertile—yes, but he still likes to imagine he can get his pretty girl pregnant.

oh how he just desperately yearns to gift you with a baby or two . . or three. “c-choso,” you’d mewl out, softly piercing your teeth into the inner parts of his collarbone. choso likes to pull out, pull back in, then out again. a mess, your pussy was flooded with such ropes of his hot cum that he can’t help but gaze at it with a cute sheepish grin.

in his mind he’s thinking . . ‘did i do that?’

and he did, although this time once he pulls out his now flaccid cock—he whines, lowering his head towards between your thighs to get a much closer look, a better view of the mess he was primarily responsible for. “oh no, it’s spilling out,” he says with a cute furrow tugging at his thin eyebrows. choso’s very gentle, he creates a soft strumming a thumb against your swollen clit before he surprises you with his next action. he lolls out his pink clean tongue before tasting the aftermath—tasting himself, a concoction of your slick arousal with his own bitter taste. he doesn’t mind at all, choso’s quite the freak in bed so the moment he runs his tongue against your entrance, there’s no stopping. “gotta k-keep my baby plugged in so she can give me a mini me,” he whimpers, lapping his tongue gradually against your folds—he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment at the bitter taste lingering on the flatness of his taste buds. you’re throbbing, a hand combs its way through his messy strands before you start to arch. “right?”

so cute, your heart swells up with a mush of butterflies as you feel his eyes pierce into you— as he speaks, choso’s voice briefly cracks and he continues to clean up the sloppy mess, using his same stubby thumb to plug your cunt back up with the cum that resumes to spew out gradually.

“y-yes, don’t stop, ‘cho,” you mutter out in jittery words—his tongue was so slow and precise, making sure to rummage through every part of your clit. with two fingers, he pries open your pussy more to get an entire glimpse. he feels his cock strain, wide eyes the size of saucers peer right into you before he gives your cunt a plethora of individual chaste kisses.

mwah after mwah. by this point, he’s making out with your pussy — strings of his own mess forming into a little sheeny cobweb, as well as your wet saliva that coats his lips in such a glittery color. “praise me more, p-please. wanna know how good ‘m making my princess feel.”

with a soft sadden pout, he looks up at you with glossy eyes—such wetness all over his lips before he starts to create sucks against your cunt, nibbling on it shortly afterward. you’re throbbing in his mouth and he shivers incessantly once he feels your fingers playfully massage all through his neglected scalp.

“making me feel so good, you’re doing so well baby,” you whimper out, “s-so fuckin’ good.” his tongue was quite long too—considering how he was a curse, he made sure he knew how to eat you out. choso moans, a mere gritty grunt shortly follows as he reaches a hand down to touch himself before he pauses.

“can i touch myself too? can i touch myself while i clean my pretty girl off?”

“yes baby.”

“fuck, s-say it again,” he whines, leaning right into your touch. he was like a kitten— purring at the way your fingers comb through his hair, tickling his scalp. he awaits for your answer with drowsy eyes and a pouty lip that continues to tremor. “please.”

you giggle at the way he was so in love with your voice, especially in a mere intimate moment like this. “yes baby,” you coo in a melodic tone, watching his droopy eyes shine and he pants before hesitatingly reaching a hand down to feel on his left out twitching cock. “touch yourself for me, ‘s okay,” and he whines as you softly pick up his head from between your legs by his hair—he intakes a breath, and you pull him into a deep kiss. choso whimpers, starting to stroke himself, leaky reddened tip all cold from the wafting air as you taste the mess all on his tongue. bitter yet sweet, he runs a hand on your tummy before he feels your legs wrap around his slim waist once more. once you pull away, you mutter out a soft, “you’re such a good boy for me, choso.”

“heh, i— i try to be,” he pouts, sheeny lips glossed with his own arousal and yours included. choso’s big hand rests against your tummy before he gingerly presses down on it, leaning in for another kiss. “i wanna be good for you,” he whines before leaning down again to kiss near your navel. “wanna be good for you ‘n our future baby.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

with toji— it’s evident that he’s got a major breeding kink. the thought of you walking around with a plump swelling tummy drives him crazy.

although, he’s not too keen on baring a child— he’s only more worried about the making process.

stuffing you full of velvety ropes of his hot sticky cum. his favorite part, especially whenever he’s pressed right up against you— like now, with you in nothing more than a lewd mating press position. your legs would be sprawled all up, maw dangling open and your eyes criss-crossing each other each particular second.

“shit, what a fuckin’ mess,” he grumbles, such sharp hips smack into you at full force that you can barely react in time. it’s so deep, you moan, pawing and clawing your hands at his tense back muscles. he grunts, feeling your fingertips carve into his skin, scratching his back all up. you’re decorating his back with multiple marks, marks that he loves to show off after the night ends. toji’s rhythm was simply overzealous — insanity at its finest. with a big hand, he cups your chin before giving you a wet kiss. you whine into his mouth, just a doll being rigorously pounded into the frame, mixing his saliva with yours before he pulls away. “keep moanin’ for me like that ‘n i’m really gonna get ya pregnant, girl.”

“s—so do it then, toji.” you spat, your own breaths betraying you with how quick they came and go. you felt like you were ruining a 5k marathon, such wind snatches out of your chest as he makes sure to thrust deep to where his cum that was already inside of you from before stays right in it’s place. he narrows his eyes at you before snickering, pulling you into another deep kiss.

this time, it’s more sloppier. teeth clashing, tongues tango and tangling amongst each other.

his breath was abnormally warm, you taste the lingering tang of booze on his tongue as he rocks his beefy body against yours. you’re about to break, his thrusts became so slow yet deep—the right amount to make you lose your mind.

“toji. . . ?” he sneers, using a thumb to pull your bottom lip down. dark green eyes watch as you’re right at your peak practically. your legs quiver and quaver as he’s just jackhammering his thick cock into you repeatedly in such a rude provocative way. “didn’t know we were on a first name basis, sweetheart.”

“d-daddyyy,” you mewl out, feeling his fat base just thwack against your entrance. previous strings of his own sweltering cum sticks against your skin— each time he pulls himself back to fuck back into you, it smears against your thighs and it’s such a mess. he wraps a hand around your throat, a thumb gliding down the middle part and he feels the sheer vibrations of each individual whine that departs from your mouth. “fuck, fuck, ah ah ‘m gonna cum soon, daddy.”

“bet ya fuckin’ are. ‘specially with a pussy this sloppy ‘n wet. should be ashamed of bein’ this soaked all on me,” he snarls right up against your ear— even his voice has you sopping, your cunt pulses with each word that comes from his mouth that it’s just pathetic. you were no match for his pace, his hips, even his dirty talk. your heartbeat was racing through your ears, rapidly. by now, you were just a pocket pussy—a mere fleshlight, the bed jolts and oscillates from each impactful hit that it even starts moaning itself, as if it’s competing with you. “i’ll give you twins, ‘s that what you want? or are you more of a triplets kinda gal?”

“just give me a baby, daddy.”

“just give me a baby, daddy.” he repeats your tone before cackling—so mean, he watches the pout go against your lips before he greets your wet pussy with a rough spank. you wince, the sting from the entire hit makes your cunt throb at a more quickened pace. you’re so dumb, not a single thought in the world except the fact that you’d be having more ropes of toji’s warm cum oozing out of you in just a minute. just the thought makes you salivate. “greedy . . fuckin’ . . pussy . . holdin’ . . me . . hostage,” he enunciates between each pausing thrust. you writhe underneath him before you end up finishing the same time as him—a loud ear shrilling whimper leaves your throat and he’s pouring another sweet amount of cum into you, this times it’s a lot though. he groans, canines digging into your neck softly as your legs lock around him tightly like a vice.

and as he’s still spewing out such ropes, making sure your pussy is grateful and soaks in ever single drop, he grabs your chin. “now tell me, little girl,” and he kisses you for about a millisecond before continuing his sentence with a sly grin, “are ya ready to be a single mother?”

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

“oh, boo. is my future queen already too full?”

such playful words, the gravelly rasp in his tone only makes you ten times more dripping wet.

with your back pressed against him—you’d be facing yourself in front a mirror, struggling to take one out of two of his thick staggering cocks. one of them was idly resting on his tummy—angry red tip, glistening with a pretty translucent color of his own fluid. “more, m-more ‘kuna.”

“when i’m in the process of breeding you, it’s 'my lord', woman.” he warns you, his lower arm out of the other three wraps around your body. his lips press up against your ear and you lean back against him— he chortles, watching your cunt slowly swallow him up again. so tight, so warm, it makes him suck his teeth in contentment at the way your body always responds to him. just a single touch from sukuna and you were on your way to the fifth climax of the night, “you got me?”

“y—yes, my lord,” you moan, feeling the fat tip of his cock ferret all throughout your gummy walls. instinctively, you compress and brace all around him. his jaw tightens, infamous fangs poking out of his lips before he resumes to guide your cute hips. your rhythm was a bit slow . . . it’s simply because he’s so fucking big, sukuna’s so beefy too. two of his extra arms spreads your legs just a bit wider and you let out a cute shriek once he successfully locates your secretive g-spot. he knows your anatomy like it was the back of his hand. you’re spasming, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as you feel his claws gingerly scrap against your curves. “breed me, pleasepleaseplease.”

he jeers in a low tone— the fact that you’re making an entire mess on his own personal throne like this. the audacity, but maybe he’s even got a little soft spot for you.

“my obedient girl,” he words warm its way into your heart before you’re bouncing on his shaft now— your breathing becomes insignificantly heavy and you grip onto his knees before he brings another lower arm between your cunt. “hm. if i spank this disgraceful pussy will it give me a baby sooner? let’s try it.”

“s—sukunaaaa,” you’d whine out, his touch making your nipples perk up. you were so sensitive—especially after your most recent screaming orgasm that had your throat clinging onto its last and final pipes. each smack he makes against your wet cunt was so slick, saturated with your own arousal that he smears it all over folds. your swollen pussy was awaiting more satiny ropes as he’s just mindlessly pumping in and out of you. he groans, feeling a twinging burn underneath his calve as he holds you down. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, pleaseee.”

“dumb woman, thought i told ya to not call me sukuna when ‘m inside this pussy?” and he holds your head up—with your mouth all open, eyes droopy, tips of your ears burning, you felt everything. you’re so stupid that your thighs ache, your brain short circuits, you’re almost frothing. the more his thick cock pummels into you— the more your ears fill up with straight fuzz. “i’ll let it slide just for today, you’re lucky i like you.”

his words were a mere purr to you, so seductive.

with two rough hands, he makes you grind against him instead of bouncing—purposely making sure that you feel every single inch, every entire being of his hardened cock. he pulses inside you, and you whine before slumping right against his broad lap. the ancient markings that perfectly decorate his skin graze against your back and you whimper before he starts to feel his breathing pick up. “f—fuck, bare around me like that, good girl, goooood,” and as he still has your spasming hips in place, he spanks your ass before it finally arises. sukuna shoots inside of your cunt, a hefty amount of cum that spits right inside of your folds. “. . ah,” he gasps, and for a second you could almost hear him whine. you jitter your hips forward a bit, making sure a drop doesn’t spill out before he snickers right against your ear, lifting you up from his lap to realign himself. “cute. but let’s try to make you even more full with two cocks, yeah?”

☆ GOJO SATORU

he wouldn’t even realize he has a breeding kink until he’s literally guts deep inside of you.

gojo’s a simple man, he likes to return home from a long mission + day at work to his pretty wife. correction, his pretty wife with no panties underneath. the moment he crosses your path near the kitchen, he brings you into a rough kiss, hands finding its way towards the back of your ass. he gives it a tight squeeze, leading you straight towards the bed—he doesn’t even have to say a single word either.

he’s a simple man, he knows what he wants, and he wants you.

“t-toruuu,” you’d gasp out, scratching up his back with various marks. he never minded, if anything it only turns him on. he was so deep, a feral gaze meets yours—hooded eyes and he’s breathing in and out, cloudy puffs of air ghost from his lips as his thick cock just pounds straight into you at full throttle. missionary—a simple yet straight forward position that he always loved to do whenever he was feeling lazy. especially now, your legs were cutely raised up, weight bouncing and bouncing as he briefly holds up your leg to run his tongue against your ankle. “fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”

he’s whimpering himself, white strands sticking to his forehead like hot glue before he rocks against you further—clenching his perfectly chiseled jaw as he hitched his breath. “ohhh fuck, ‘s good, ‘m gonna cum again, baby. so wet, gonna milk the shit out of me.” and his hips frantically stutter, right in front of your eyes—you squeeze him with all your might before momentarily, he dumps another sloppy load into you again. by now, you lost track—you were just stuffed, hot cum seeps and dribbles out of your swollen glistening cunt before he leans into your neck. “. . . ugh,” and he sounds like a alluring harmony, even his grunts were blissful and melodic. “not enough, still not enough for my baby.”

“so full, ‘toru,” you’d mewl out, shivering once he softly bites his pearly whites into your neck. doing so, his own muffles and a certain itch in your brain gets scratched once the crown of his dick batters strenuously against your most sweetest spot. “ohmygod right there, please.“

“y-yeah?” he swallows, and his cologne runs against your nostrils—even his loud scent had you drenched, you throb as he frowns once he suddenly feels his own seed pouring all down your thighs. he stares at it and it’s so much, with a cute attempt to fuck it back into you—his hips grind slowly against you, a soft little pout stretching against his pink lips as your legs wrap around his slim waist oh so tightly. “i missed this,” he rasps, and he starts to ram his cock into you again. it goes on for hours—with gojo satoru, stamina for him is practically non-existent. “i missed my f-favorite pussy so bad, fuckkk.”

so whiney, he couldn’t help it. your tongue lolls out and you’re sure he’s already broken you—you whine at his rhythmic speed. it’s so hypnotic, it’s so salacious. the way his hips dance against yours at such a rough pace was just purely euphoric. clammy hands of yours grab onto his bulky thighs and you you moan before you end up being too loud so he covers your hand, whispering lowly. “listen to it with me.”

so you do—you grow quiet the moment his big hand goes against your face, shielding your moans any further and the bed just squeaks in squeaks. as if your body was in sync, in harmony with his, minutes pass before he ends up cumming again. gojo’s buried all the way down to the hilt, fat balls smacking against your entrance in such a mean way before you hear the little squelches spurt right into you. it was so messy, he looks down before pressing a hand against your plump tummy. “god, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he utters in a hoarse voice, leaning in to kiss all over your face. you’re so dizzy—your cunt was now over flooding with nothing but his thick cum. “we’re gonna have the prettiest babies, promise.”

and then he watches as you try to catch your breath, sprawled all out whilst he’s still inside of you—dick still twitching inside before he kisses the tip of your nose. “you’d be such a good mommy for me, such a good mommy for satoru fuckin’ gojo.”

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angelxcz · 7 months

Text

Gojo who breeds your pussy full before stuffing you deep with the dildo Geto bought you two. His cum seeping past the base of pink silicone in thick spurts.

You whimper tearily when he twists your nipples, forcing the sensitive buds to perk up towards the camera. Zooming in on your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks then your leaking cunt. Using his fingers to spread your sticky folds before thrusting the dildo in and out of you so that his cum was on display.

You let out a whiny cry in embarrassment, the lewd sound of Gojo scooping up his cum making your cheeks flush. Your boyfriend bringing it to your lips as he stood, letting out a groan when your mouth latched onto long white coated digits.

“Say hi to Suguru baby,” he smirked, watching as you looked up at the camera through batted lashes. Drool and cum running down the side of your lip as you slobbered around him.

“H-hi Sugu,” you mumbled softly, the muffled sound coming out as an incoherent babble.

You clench your thighs together, mewling when you feel the thick tip of the toy rub against your g spot. Gojo turned the camera to himself, “Seems our baby’s still needy for more. Thanks for the gift Suguru!” He winked, sending the video to a working Geto. Knowing that the other male would have a hard time controlling himself.

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in-class-daydreams · 1 month

Text

Imagine ex-husband Gojo and your son, Sen, getting into the nastiest fight to date.

"Doman expansion: Infinity Castle!"

You feel yourself floating right side up, then everything shifts and you're suddenly falling upside down. You hit the tatami mats with an "oof!"

Sen's domain is a Japanese-style castle with infinite rooms he can manipulate at will. The domain is infinite and some rooms can lead to nowhere, reminiscent of Satoru's domain. When he and his best friend Naoki overlap their domains, one could find themselves isolated, battling shikigami in various parts of the castle.

Sen and Satoru land on their feet not far from you.

"Yikes," Satoru says. "Pretty crude, if you ask me."

"Good thing I'm not asking!" Sen would say, powering up his next attack. Satoru would move to counter and by now you have a headache and a bruise, and you've had it with the bickering.

"Domain--"

"Enough!" You put your hands together. "Domain expansion: Thousand Heavenly Gates"

The scene shifts and you find yourselves standing on water with a clear sky above you. One thousand torii gates stand tall all around you. Your ex and son feel the rage inside them start to fade away.

Pointing an accusing finger, you scold them, "You two are two of the strongest sorcerers who ever lived. Using your gifts to bicker with each other is some of the most blatant disregard for your stations I've ever seen! I don't want to see another domain used for this kind of stupidity again. Am I clear?"

"Yup."

"Yes, mama."

"Now," you say slowly. "When I drop this domain, you two are going to spend some civil father-son time together. Go get lunch. I don't care where, but on the way back, pick me up an ice cream. Double scoop. Satoru?"

You ex-husband grimaces and has the decency to look chastised. "Yeah, I know what flavor. That swirly one you like."

"Good. Don't come back until you've learned to play nice."

Imagine ex-husband Gojo picking you up from girls' night.

Sen goes back to the school dorms at night, so you figured you go out for a few drinks with your friends to catch up. Satoru heard about the event from Shoko and offered to take you home. You agreed and on the way took a detour to your favorite arcade from when you and Satoru were teens.

"Ugh! I swear these things are rigged!" you groan in frustration when the claw game drops the plushie you were aiming for.

"My turn," Satoru says. He scoots you out of the way and focuses hard on the white one-eyed cat you've been trying to get.

In the reflection of the plastic, you notice a slight glow behind Satoru's blindfold.

"No way you're using the six-eyes for this!" You whack his arm playfully, trying to stifle your laughter.

"Don't hate the player, babe, hate the game," he replies. With that, he presses the button and the claw drops. It hits the toy dead center. Closes. Lifts. The two of you hold your breaths.

And drops right into the chute.

"Yes!" you squeal while Satoru retrieves it. His face screws up in a look of contempt.

"Ew, it's even uglier up close."

You snatch it from him and hug it close to your chest. "Don't say that! He didn't mean it, Gege, don't worry."

"You named it already?"

"I named him."

"His face makes me mad for some reason."

"Your face makes me mad for many reasons."

Satoru lightly punches Gege in the face, which leads to you chasing him all the way back to the car, brandishing your new friend like a weapon.

Imagine ex-husband Gojo walking you to your front door.

You thank him for the ride and for taking you to that arcade. He doesn't need to know this, but being there with him made you feel like you were seventeen again.

Many things about Satoru remind you of how happy he made you. Even now.

"I'm sorry I acted like that," he says. Your reminiscing means you didn't catch the first part of his apology but you nod like you've been paying attention the whole time. "We're not together any more and I haven't been good about respecting boundaries and I'm sorry."

He blabbers on some more but all you can think about is how this whole apology is exactly the kind of communication you'd been wishing for throughout your marriage.

"So if you're seeing someone now, I get it. I mean, it doesn't matter if I get it or not because it's none of my business but--"

"Oh, shut up, Toru!" Fisting a hand in his shirt, you drag him to your level and kiss him like you’d never get to again.

Thanks for reading!

Click [here] for more of Sen being mean to his dad | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

#again a little less sen in this one #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo sentaro #jjk imagines

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chuluoyi · 10 months

Note

Baby gojo and daddy gojo not wanting to share mama gojo😭✋i-

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 06:20 P.M 」

aww this is so cute of course this is the first i worked on after getting back from my weekend break <3 and actually i have this one similar ask too so i combined yours with theirs! here's some cute blinking gojo in phantom parade and okay now let us have some crack and make gojo suffer

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“bwah!” a nudge.

“myah!” a shove.

and then—

“waaa!” a… slap (?) on the cheek.

“huh?” satoru winced, touching where the baby’s palm just connected with his face, blinking rapidly. so he wasn’t imagining things. this really was happening in front of his eyes.

and it was the baby—his baby.

your giggles filled the air in response.

“hey, you,” satoru took on a very stern look and an exaggerated frown, glaring at his own son. the baby merely babbled at him innocently, blinking his wide crystal blue eyes that mirrored his. “bad, bad minion. this is a very serious issue. you shouldn’t do that, you hear?”

the serious issue being each time he tried to lean closer to steal a kiss from you, your son always found a way to repel him away with his tiny hands.

you snorted at his righteous tone. “he’s just protecting me. even your kid knows you’re a danger.”

a gasp left your husband’s shiny lips, mockingly in disbelief. “me? a danger? i make your life a heaven on earth!”

“heav—pfft—”

“i give you love, food, my body—” he emphasized, pointing at himself for a dramatic effect, and you threw your head back, dissolving into a fit of laughter even more, “—heck, i even give you this naughty baby!”

“wha—no! that’s team effort!”

“still! and now he is staging an uprising against me?” satoru cheekily eyed his child, who was now clutching the fabric of your blouse, tiny fingers playing with the shiny diamonds of your necklace—a gift from satoru too, actually.

“look at him go,” he grumbled, his eyes following each little movement his son made, then dramatically yelped when the boy pawed at your breasts. “hey! no touching! those are mine!”

“please.” you almost choked on your laugh. your silly husband always had a way to make things sound funnier than they actually were, and that was what made you fall in love with him more each day, really. “the milk is his!”

“he can have the cow’s! and more importantly, it’s thanks to me that you’re so milky—”

“satoru! you’re so uncouth i can’t—!”

“see? you’re laughing so much! this proves enough that i make you happy every day!”

later that night, after you put your baby to sleep in his crib, satoru gently poked his cheek, his expression tender despite his pursed lips. “he is out like a light…”

satoru might whine a lot, but ultimately, you couldn’t miss the look of adoration and fondness that made him the father of your child. even without saying it out loud, you knew that he would willingly put everything aside and sacrifice anything—first of all, himself—if it was meant for his dearest, most precious treasure.

knowing he'd do the same for you only served to melt your heart even more. and you felt full—so full, in fact, with warmth and love and anything that was soft.

you really do love him, don’t you?

“look at him, he’s like a shrimp,” your husband pointed out, still gazing at his baby in wonder as he kept poking and prodding at the chonky rolls of his little arms, and you thought, nothing could have been more precious than this.

“satoru.”

“yeah?” he turned instantly at the sound of his name, but before he could react further—

you stood on your tiptoes and planted a swift smooch on his cheek, putting the overflowing love you held for him in it. “mwah!”

“…?!”

for the next three seconds, satoru malfunctioned. the brush of your sweet lips on his cheek was so innocent that he was rendered speechless. heat steadily gathered on his face, turning him pink despite himself.

“you…” he groaned, collecting himself, a dopey smile was quickly plastered on his face to cover up his setback as you burst into hearty laughter. “now you’ve started it…” and then he latched on you with a glint of a joker, launching a full-blown tickle attack.

“a—ah! why?! satoru! ahahahaha!”

. . .

safe to say, your wheezes effectively awoke your son from his slumber, and as a bit of payback, you left satoru in the dust to deal with the crying baby, both of them whimpering in unison since he had absolutely no clue how to comfort the little one.

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alexiroflife · 3 months

Text

how jjk men would react if they found out you sh…

Warning(s): cw//self harm, graphic depictions, mentions of depression, anxiety, sensitive content, angst/comfort

-> if you or anyone you know is struggling with self-harm, suicidal thoughts, depression, etc., know that you aren’t alone. as someone who used to struggle with these things myself, i understand how difficult it can be, but know that you are strong and you are loved. and thank you for the ask, this is a very important topic and i appreciate the vulnerability of the request. sending all the possible love in the world to all of you.

gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna

satoru gojo: satoru has an incredible sense of sight, thanks to his gift of the six eyes, as well as very keen observation skills. he picks up on little habits you harbor very quickly during the beginning of your relationship. you always choose to wear long-sleeved clothing, even when it’s warm, and you tug at your sleeves as though you are desperately trying to conceal a certain part of yourself from the outside world, from him. he doesn’t understand why at first. the thought crosses his mind that you just aren’t comfortable in sleeveless clothing, but you’ve shown him pictures of yourself from a decade ago when you’d wear variations of different tank tops, short sleeves, and more. he doesn’t understand what changed somewhere along the line. perhaps your sense of style has shifted? maybe you don't like your arms? (he can't understand how because he finds them to be the most gorgeous arms he's ever seen).

but no, something is nagging at him in the back of his head, churning the contents of his gut as though there is something he needs to know, to see that you were hiding, and when the moment unveiled itself, he instantly saw.

you’re in your kitchen while satoru watches you from the other side of the island, leaning over and gazing at your movements with a soft smile. his blue eyes scattered across your body, admiring you while simultaneously searching for any clue, any answer to his hovering questions.

“where’d i put the containers,” you murmur to yourself in the midst of making lunch for the week, moving about your space rather slowly.

satoru offers his own help, pointing a slender finger over to the space above your head. “did you check that cabinet?” he asks.

you turn over your shoulder and quirk your brow. “oh, do you live here now? suddenly know where everything is?” you ask playfully, a small smile rising to your lips as satoru chuckles.

“not yet,” he winks. “but i sure am working on it, though. you know i have to make myself familiar with the space in case we share it someday.”

“is that so?”

“or, of that doesn't work out you could always live with me. i’d love to have you.”

“we’ve been together for three weeks, satoru.”

“yeah, but what does that matter when it comes to loveeee,” he pouts and you giggle, shaking your head as you turn back to reach for the cabinet. you stand on your tiptoes and reach out, sleeve of your sweet draping down to your elbow.

satoru is quick to his feet to help you, though you’re more than capable, when he catches the sight of what looks like a scar streaking over the inside of your wrist. his face falls and his brows angle, marching over to you quickly with a look of urgency on his face.

you don’t register how fast he is moving until you feel him behind you. you turn and look up, caught off guard by the way his eyes had hardened and his pupils shrank. your hand stalls on the cabinet handle, the scars on your arm completely slipping your mind momentarily.

“satoru? you okay?”

he doesn’t answer, grasping your wrist in his hand gently and pulling it down from above you. your eyes flicker up to the movement, and when you realize what is happening, your heart sinks. your eyes go wide and you try to tug your arm away, but satoru’s grip tightens slightly, extending your arm by your wrist to display the inside of your forearm before him.

he thinks his vision is blurring over, his heart ringing in his ears, his breaths quickening as his eyes detail over the row of rigid scars lining from your inner elbow up to your wrist. his world collapses around him, lips stretching into a disbelieving grimace as his wild eyes survey the damage. some of those scars look newer than others, scabbing over with specs of purple, while the others are far older.

you panic, trying to tug away again, but satoru’s grip on you is too secure. a lump forms in your throat as you search for things to say, anything to say that could take your boyfriend’s attention away, that could excuse the sight before him as something else. “s-satoru, wait-” you stammer, your voice weaker than you had intended it to be.

satoru looks like he can’t hear you, nose flaring as he stares, and stares, and stares, and suddenly, your vulnerability is bare naked before him, on display for him to judge, to belittle, to curl his brows at and determine as pathetic and weak. you can feel yourself about to cry already, shaken by this sudden attention.

“satoru,” you whisper, arm trembling within his grasp.

“what is this?” he breathes out so quietly, his voice betraying himself and hardly reaching over a brush through the wind. when you do not answer, those pained eyes are on you, tormented by the sight he has just witnessed. “(y/n), what is this?”

you feel small, avoiding his eyes and looking all over the floor. “i- it’s nothing,” you murmur.

“nothing?” he repeats, as though he has been burned by your response. the white haired man quickly seeks out your other wrist, reaching down to your other side as you try to turn away, but he, of course, manages to seize it and extend it like your other arm and roll up that sleeve. the same row of scars litter your beautiful skin.

satoru’s a mess, frightened, confused, devastated. this is what you had been hiding from him all this time? “this isn’t fucking nothing, (y/n), they’re all over you! what did you do?”

you still can’t respond, you can’t muster up an excuse, you can’t do anything. satoru’s concern is far too overbearing, his gaze too intense, and his hold on you too secure. it feels like he has you laid out on a slab before him, stripped of your clothes as he examines your body with contempt.

he’s disgusted. he’s ashamed, you think.

amid his grief, he catches the terrified look in your eye, your lips tugged downward as if to prevent yourself from crying. you look so scared.

how could he have not seen this sooner, that you’re hurting? that you’re hurting yourself?

“baby, what did you do?” he repeats, softer this time as he leans down to look at you, your body trembling in his hold. his thumbs graze your inflamed skin, hesitant to touch you for fear that you may break.

“please don’t,” you breathe out in a huff, voice wobbling as you scrunch your eyes closed. “please, don’t look. just forget you saw it, please.”

“forget i-?” satoru has to stop himself from lashing out poorly, from allowing his emotions to overcome him in what he understands is clearly your moment of need. “how could you ask me to do something like that? (y/n), your arms, baby!”

“satoru, please-” you shake your head. you want to shrink away, to hide, to vanish into thin air. “i don’t wanna talk about it. please.”

“(y/n),” he exhales, closing his eyes to gather himself. “(y/n),” he repeats softly, hands releasing your wrists slowly and sliding up your arms to delicately hold your shoulders. “we can’t not talk about this. you have to tell me what’s been going on. you have to, baby, you have to understand how scared I am right now. help me understand. let me help you, let me take on whatever burden you’re carrying, please, I’ll do anything as long as it means you’re not hurting yourself.”

his hands move to your neck, cupping over the skin as he ducks his head down to look at you more clearly.

“i can’t stand the thought that you’ve been- and i haven’t-” satoru was stumbling now, throat straining as the urge to cry rose. “why didn’t you come to me? i’m right here for you, (y/n), i always have been. why didn’t you tell me?”

“...it’s embarrassing,” you manage to say, your voice fragile, on the verge of breaking. you can feel your boyfriend’s eyes peering into you even with your own eyes closed. “didn’t want you to see… I didn’t wanna be a burden.”

satoru’s heart is breaking for you, hurt that you could even think of yourself as a burden to him. “have i- have i done or said anything to you to make you feel that way?” he asks genuinely, and you cringe, turning your head to the side to open your eyes.

“no, of course not.”

“then why would you think that, baby?”

you shrug helplessly, tears welling into your eyes. satoru sees you, all of you, his heart thrumming to capture the pain you feel and to lift it from your chest, to help you breathe even just a little bit. he releases a weighted sigh, one of sadness, of love, of heartache for you, and he’s pulling you into him as your arms dangle limply at your sides.

you scrunch your eyes and immediately break down into him, sobbing into his shirt as his warm hands wash over your frame and cradle your head to him, the muscles in his face tight with anguish. he holds onto you like he’s horrified that you will fade away within his arms.

“i’m just so tired, toru,” you cry into his chest, dampening the fabric of his shirt. “i’m sorry.”

satoru doesn’t respond, afraid that if he speaks, he’ll end up crying too. you’re his girl, his beautiful, loving girl, and the fact that you have done such harm to yourself is incomprehensible to him. if you love him so, how can you hate yourself enough to have done this?

“how long?” is all he can ask you, breath heaving into your hair and ear. you hesitate, for he already seems so wounded by his discovery. “tell me.”

“...two years…”

he’s crushed. how did he not see sooner? how could he have been so blind after having bragged about being able to see everything so clearly? how could he have left you like this?

he holds you tighter, digging his head into the crook of your neck and hunching over, your eyes now seeing over the curve of his broad shoulder.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes to you in turn, fingers curling into your hair as he holds your scalp. “i'm sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

you’re confused as to why he’s apologizing to you since the entire thing is your fault. satoru has a tendency to take on your emotions, piling them onto his own weight of carrying the title of the strongest. you never understood why he did so naturally and willingly, and why even now as you stood limply in his arms, he’s crying for the things you did to yourself.

he pulls away with shiny red eyes, gazing down into your shiny red eyes and tear stained cheeks. you’re so beautiful, he thinks. he hates that such beauty has been suffering in so much silence.

“(y/n), I love you more than anything in this goddamn world. please don’t- don’t keep doing this to yourself. if you’re hurting, come to me. hurt me if you have to lash out, but don’t hurt yourself beautiful.”

“i would never even think of hurting you, satoru.”

“then don’t think of doing it to yourself,” he says firmly, and you press your lips together.

“…i-i don’t know how to… to stop,” you mumble, and he’s taking your hands in his and kissing them gently.

“i’ll help you. we can get you help, baby, I promise. just promise me, please,” he begs you, holding your hands close to his heart. “you come to me when you feel like doing that, okay? you come to me. and I’ll do whatever I can. let me help you. let me be there for you. i won’t let you push me out, (y/n).”

you're crying again, tears streaking over your face as satoru’s love captures you within his words, within his warmth as he forces you to understand that you are not alone, and never will be.

satoru kisses your hands again. his lips reach your cheek, and his hand comes to tuck your head into his shoulder again, holding you and telling you that you have him to go to when your world grows dark.

geto suguru: if suguru could sum you up into one word, he would say that you're his universe.

everything in his life he does for the sake of you and his girls, for the sake of keeping you safe and making you happy. your happiness and your comfortability are the only things that suguru prioritizes above all else, making them his very goal to serve each and every day.

suguru's not the most stable, you know that and he knows that himself. he has his off days, where he falls quiet and the world around him numbs itself and the noise becomes a muffle in his ears until you step into view, giving him a smile and wrapping his big frame up in your small arms, your voice whispering to him and breaking through the fog. you're his sanctuary. you're his safe place, and he loves you so much. he owes his entire life to you, therefore ensuring that you feel just as loved as you make him feel is very important to him.

so when he catches sight of the scars on your stomach one day by accident, when you lift up mimiko to sit on your shoulder as nanako jumps up for you to pick her up to, and her shoe kicks up your shirt from your waist momentarily, suguru freezes.

are you hurt? did someone do this to you? did you do this to yourself?

countless thoughts are racing through suguru's mind as he stares at you in a daze, watching you laugh so joyfully along with the girls as though no trouble plagues you.

but there is. you've just been hiding it. hiding it far too well.

his mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day, unsure of if he had been imagining things or not. he knows you so well, or at least he thinks he does. how have you been hiding those marks littering your lower abdomen? how had he missed them?

he thinks back to the moments you two were intimate and recalls that you never wanted to remove the tanktop you wore or let him kiss further than your ribs. he recalls the days you all went to the beach and you kept a white shirt over your swimsuit or elected to wear a onepiece. he recalls how quickly you change when he's with you, your back turned to him as you rush to throw something on over your upper body.

the signs... they're all there. you've been hiding yourself from him, but why? what have you been doing? have you truly been harming yourself, or is that thought a trick of suguru's worst fears?

he tries to keep himself calm around you and the girls for the remainder of the day until they are put to sleep and the two of you are alone again.

you sit on the edge of your shared bed, rubbing lotion over your arms with your back facing suguru again. he watches you carefully, back resting against the headboards and hazel eyes trained on your figure as though you aren't real.

he waits for the proper moment, waiting for you to crawl up and curl under his side, his arm subconsciously wrapping over your waist as your head lays on his chest. he stares at the ceiling for a moment, thinking as weighty silence overcomes you, then he's cautiously speaking.

"(y/n)?"

the soft call of your name brings your head up to peer at him curiously, blinking innocently. he turns down to look at your face and his heart clenches. while he knows that he knows what he saw, he doesn't want to believe it. he doesn't want to think that you, such a selfless and caring person for him, would hurt yourself.

you hum up at him, wondering what he has called you for. you see the pensive look in his face, the subtle knit in his brow as he stares at you, gears in his head turning. "yeah sugu?" you say gently.

he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. he doesn't want the confirmation, but he needs to know.

"i want to ask you a question..." he says, and you grow slightly befuddled.

"...okay?" you start. "is it serious?"

"yeah, it is," he admits, and you suddenly grow nervous, immediately catching an idea of what this could be about. you don't like the look on his face, the way he appears so serious.

"...alright," you mumble, suddenly meek.

the black haired man stares for a few more moments, just looking at you, taking in your the features he feel so deeply in love with, the features that bring him comfort and peace. "i saw something earlier, when you were holding mimiko," he begins softly, thumb caressing your back to ease you into the conversation.

you feel your heart jolt anxiously, trying to keep a straight face so as to not give your nerves away, but knowing suguru, he could likely already tell that you're getting antsy.

you lift your head to look at him, hand resting over his chest, and his eyes follow you smoothly. his eyes are focused, lips in a firm line.

"your shirt lifted, and i saw your stomach. i saw some marks. a lot of them, actually," he says, and you still completely, like a deer caught in headlights. his hand presses gently into your back, trying to keep you present with him as his concerns grow worse when he sees you stiffen against him. he frowns, denial still taking hold of him. "(y/n), please tell me those aren't what i think they are," he sighs heavily.

you feel caught.

you knew that suguru would find out at some point or another, but that didn't make this moment any less horrifying for you. it's so quiet in your room, so isolating, no background noise of the girls giggling or the distant buzz of the tv to help weaken the intensity of this point in time. you feel like a spotlight is shining overhead, an audience awaiting eagerly for you to reveal your secrets to the crowd.

suguru sits up slightly, his calmness gradually shifting into terrified incredulity. your eyes are on his face but your gaze is elsewhere, far off. you look uncomfortable, stuck, and no explanation hits suguru's ears.

"(y/n)," he says your name again, looking desperately down at you. "tell me i'm wrong."

you wish you could, you really do, but you can't lie to suguru. he knows you too well, he loves you too much, and to lie to him would be like denying his understanding of who you are.

you feel your skin flush with shame and anxiety, heartbeat likely loud enough for your boyfriend to hear.

you worry. you worry about your boyfriend's judgment, for his reaction. is he going to be angry with you?

"hey," he snaps you out of your daze with the drag of your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes as he stares at you helplessly. you look at him and frown, ashamed that you are the reason he looks so pained. "what's going on?"

the question comes out so delicately, it makes your heart break. a whisp of understanding blends into his tone with empathy, yet a crushing sense of sadness and guilt that overpowers the aforementioned emotions. you struggle to look him in his kind eyes, dreading his consolation that you feel you don't deserve.

"talk to me, (y/n)."

you chew angrily on the inside of your lip, looking down at your finger as you pick at his shirt. he watches your brows furl, an array of different feelings capturing your features. "i was gonna tell you about it..." you murmur, and suguru is floored.

"what?" he breathes out as though he has no more air. you wince, lowering your head. "you-" he pauses, mind jumping from one place to another. "you did that to yourself?"

"i'm sorry, i-" you can feel your throat growing tight. "i've been trying to-"

"to stop?" he tries to finish for you, grasping for any kind of explanation. he's devastated, not only because you've been harming yourself, but because you've been so busy looking after him and the girls that he hasn't noticed. you're the one who always comforts him, but while you've been doing that, you've been aching on the inside and trying to hide it.

you nod meekly when he concludes for you. "i just- i thought the feelings would go away, so i didn't say anything, but they're just getting worse and i don't know what to do anymore and i only feel better after i..."

"(y/n)," he stops you gently, his heart shattering upon listening to you ramble, spilling out the things you have been holding onto for what he assumes to have been so long. "you've been dealing with this all this time?"

"...it's on and off," you confess. "some days are better than others, but..."

suguru finds your words familiar, for he often finds himself in the exact same mindset; feeling functional and confident some days, and others, not so much, but you're the reason why he's able to handle his bad days, yet he hasn't been the same for you for as long as the two of you have been together.

he feels almost sick. he loves you to death. you're his everything, but you've been in pain, and he hasn't seen it.

the way he's looking at you now makes you feel guilty, remorseful, embarrassed. you know you should have told him, but you could never find the strength to. you had always been too scared. and the longer you self-harm, the less you are willing to admit to yourself and to your boyfriend that you have a problem.

you're shocked, though, when suguru's hands tighten over you and his face grows bitter, not with you but with himself. "how could i have been so stupid?" he grumbles, distraught. "and so selfish? all this time, you-"

"no, suguru, please, it's not your fault," you try to tell him.

"i should have seen, baby, i should have noticed something sooner. and all this time, instead you've been looking after me when i should have been looking after you."

"don't say that, suguru," you shift, looking sadly into his eyes. "it's my fault. i'm the one who did this, i'm the one who's to blame. i'm the stupid and selfish one, not you."

suguru's frown deepens, sad eyes looking over your face. you blame and belittle yourself just as easily as suguru does, and he can't stand it. he can't stand to see you like this, to be so aware of hurt before him. he wants, no, he needs to take all that pain away from you. he needs to exorcize it, rid your body of it, cast it away so that you can be happy from now until the rest of time. he needs you to be okay.

"i swear on my life, (y/n)," he begins firmly, eyes boring straight into yours, holding your cheek. "i will do everything in my power to get you through this. whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, i will be here for you. you're not alone, you understand? you don't need to pretend for me. the girls love you- god i love you so fucking much, and i can't stomach to think of the times you've suffered in silence for my sake. i'm no good if you're no good, baby. i need to know these things, i need to be able to help you."

your nose twitches and your jaw clenches as you look into him, breathing growing unstable. suguru has always been so generous and so loving. he has a way with his words and how safe they make you feel even during your worst moments.

"but what if i can't do it, sugu?" you whisper, his thumb catching the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye. "what if i'm not strong enough to get better?"

"you are strong enough," he affirms confidently. "more than strong enough. and when you feel weak, lean on me. but you have to promise me something."

you nod slowly, mutely, keeping his gaze as he stares at you lovingly, wistfully.

"promise me you won't do it," his words come out as a quick, hasty breath. his brows curl further upward, his desperation plain on his pretty face. "promise me you'll let me know as soon as you want to, but don't hurt yourself again, (y/n). don't do it. i'm begging you. you don't deserve that pain."

though you are unsure if you can even make that promise to yourself, you force yourself to try. for suguru's sake. "okay," you mumble, and he sighs, kissing you softly and pulling you to his chest to whisper sweet nothings as his hands soothe over your stomach and your back.

nanami kento: you twist your fingers around each other as you sit in the living room while kento cooks in the kitchen. you're nervous, more nervous than you have been about anything in your entire life, but you know that you need to rip off this bandaid to approach your boyfriend about such a serious matter.

recently, you find yourself returning to the old habit that you believed to have been relinquished. you thought that you had gotten better, that the urge to self harm had completely gone away after having spent so much time in therapy trying to heal, but recently, you've been feeling down again, useless, angry with yourself. you didn't want to tell nanami at first because you didn't think that your current mood would go beyond feeling depressed, but now that you've started scratching away at your thighs and your arms again, you know that you need to let him know what's going on. you know that you can't go on like this anymore.

but you have no idea what to say.

nanami has been nothing but doting toward you, bringing you flowers every morning, making your meals, ensuring that you remember to schedule doctor's appointments or to keep yourself warm when it's cold out- the man's life revolves around your comfortability, and while you know he would be far more offended if you keep this to yourself, you're horrified to see his reaction when you tell him that you relapsed.

nanami is well aware of your past difficulties with your mental health, and he always tells you that if you are ever in a dark space again, he needs to know. even so, he hasn't been with you when you're like this. the two of you got together after the multiple therapy visits that helped you to shift mindsets, so now that you feel this way again, and while in a relationship with nanami no less, you feel petrified.

you don't even notice when he rounds the kitchen counter to make his way over to the dining table, setting down two plates of food. he looks over and catches the way you stare ahead blankly, lost in thought. you've been doing a lot of that lately and he wonders if something is wrong.

nevertheless, he knows that if something is bothering you, you'll tell him. "sweetheart, dinner's ready," he calls out, and you snap your head over to him, his voice bringing you out of your daze.

you stand wordlessly, movements somewhat robotic, as you slowly make your way over to the table. "thanks, ken," you say softly, lacking your usual energy, and at this point, your partner knows for certain that something is off.

he watches you carefully as you sit down, pushing in your seat for you and pecking your forehead before sitting down next to you. "tell me how your day was," he starts, brushing off his hands and reaching one out to rest one on your knee as he always did at the table. he's prying, you can tell, trying to learn if something that happened throughout the day affected your mood.

your heart is hammering loudly, your eyes stuck to the plate and unable to look up at him. "it was okay," you respond.

"just okay?" he questions and you nod slowly. "did something happen?"

you flicker your eyes up to his brown ones suddenly, caught off guard by the question. he sees the questioning in your eyes and replies accordingly.

"you seem to be a little off, this evening, that's all."

you hum, unsure of how to respond to his observation. you look away again, contemplating. just say it, you think. just tell him, just get it over with.

as you struggle against yourself, nanami only grows more concerned. you don't confirm or deny his comment, and the way you turn away has him wondering if he's done something to hurt you.

"did i do something wrong, darling?" he asks.

you furrow your brows and quickly shut down the idea. "no, no. not at all, ken. it's nothing you did."

"then... there is something troubling you?"

you stall a bit more now that you're on the spot, cursing the fact that kento is always so quick to pick up on the smallest changes in your demeanor.

"(y/n)?" he calls you when you don't answer.

"i have to tell you something," you say abruptly. you see nanami's brows raise ever so slightly, soft brown eyes looking over your face in an attempt to read the situation before you tell him anything. "it's... a lot. so i need you to just... bear with me. and please don't be mad."

nanami's brow twitches slightly as he looks at you, head tilting. he grabs the bottom of his chair and shuffles it closer to you, leaning over slightly and running his hand over where it resides on your knee.

"i could never be mad at you," he tells you earnestly, as though it's the most honest thing he's said in the world. "what's the matter, my love?"

god, he's so sweet to you it makes you physically ill that you have to break this news to him.

"...do you remember when we talked about... um..." your voice fades off, nanami's concentrated gaze only making you more nervous for what his reaction will be.

"take your time," he encourages you, and you only feel worse.

you return to chewing on the inside of your lip anxiously, picking at your shirt under the table. the blonde man beside you is ever so patient, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you verbalize them.

"...um...it's.... about what we talked about a while ago..."

"...and that would be regarding?"

"my... past."

nanami furrows his brows, still not quite understanding. "i apologize, honey, what about your past?"

just rip the bandaid. just rip the bandaid.

"my past with self-harming," you rush out, and the weighty silence that follows is enough to make you want to sink into the floor and let it swallow you whole.

you can feel his eyes burning into you, processing what you just told him, and all you can hear is the pound of your heart in your ears as his hand stills upon your knee.

nanami, on the other hand, is completely shocked by your revelation. while he understands that your relapsing has always been a very realistic possibility, he never wanted to entertain the idea that it could very much so happen- at least, not while he's around.

a sense of fear grips him. are you going to tell him that you relapsed? have you already hurt yourself? has he failed to be there when it happened??

"did you-" he doesn't know what he wants to ask, or how. he hates that he is already jumping to conclusions, but the way you are structuring this conversation with him only leads him to believe the worst. "what happened?"

your head hangs low and your fingers taut on your shirt, lips tightening as they press together. you can hear the disbelief in his voice already, and it breaks you.

"i relapsed."

the brown-eyed man clenches his jaw, falling completely silent once more to not react in a way that may worsen your state. you feel his hand tighten into a fist over top of your leg as he lowers his head, rubbing his eyes with his fingers and inhaling sharply. you feel like a child who is awaiting punishment as you look at his hunched state, a million questions of what he will do next running through your mind.

you hate to do this to him. nanami already has so much on his plate, you know this is the last thing he needs to be stressing over. you wish you could be okay for him. it's not his fault that your mind takes you to these places, and you don't want him to bear responsibility as though it is his doing. even so, you already know that he will because that's the type of man kento is. that's the type of boyfriend kento is.

you wait a few more moments in unbearable muteness. after what feels like forever, kento lifts his head again and rests his chin on his fist, elbow propped on his knee. he's looking to the side, deep in anguished thought. he no longer looks surprised, but rather guilty and frustrated. "when?" is the first thing he asks.

"yesterday," you answer dejectedly, and he almost jerks, his body twitching in reaction. "...are you mad?"

nanami looks at you and his hardened expression immediately softens into something melancholy. "no- no, of course not, (y/n), no," he shakes his head as if the notion is unfathomable, releasing his fist to cup your knee again more securely. "i will never be angry with you for what you're going through. never. no, i'm not mad."

you nod quickly, a meek sense of relief and sorrow taking over you, a weight heaving from your chest upon letting it out. "okay," you whimper.

"come here, my darling," he coaxes you softly, opening and grabbing your hand from under the table delicately to lead you to stand over him. his hand guides over the small of you're back once you're up, leading you to sit on his lap with your back pressed against the table and your legs dangling over one side of his chair.

he holds your forearms gently, looking up at you with sad, understanding eyes. "are you comfortable showing me?" he murmurs so intimately, easing you into his warm consolation.

you don't nod or answer him verbally. instead, you wordlessly roll up the sleeve of your sweater to reveal angry red scratch lines running up your inner forearm. nanami's lips curl in pain as though he can feel the sting of your scars, holding your arm gently for him to look over it.

the sight kills him, though he tries to keep his cool. this isn't about him, it's about you, but goodness, the image of the scars on your beautiful skin makes him hurt like no other pain he's experienced.

"is this all of it?" he asks you, and you shake your head.

"there's some on my thighs," you mutter, looking down.

he nods. "alright," he sighs. "alright."

"...i know you have so much on your plate already... i just-"

"don't. don't even," he stops you, eyes still roaming over your irritated skin. nanami usually commends himself for remaining collected in times of crisis, but he's desperately fighting a part of him that wants to yell out and cry for the sake of you.

he imagines you struggling with this on your own, long before he came into your life, and the thought makes him cringe to picture just how far this must have gotten. these scratches he is surveying now already look bad enough. were the other ones worse?

"(y/n), you know this isn't okay," he looks up at your face and sees how you are avoiding his eyes. you look so small compared to how you usually carry yourself, and it kills him. "to harm yourself like this... you can't treat yourself this way, darling, you know you can't."

"i know," you mumble. "i just had a moment, and now i'm scared that- that i'll go back to how things were."

"as long as i'm with you, you won't. i promise you that," nanami swears. "it was just this one time since you last?"

you nod. "yeah..."

"okay," he nods once more, convincing himself that this is something he can help stop before it gets any more out of hand. "why'd you do it this time, my love? what were you thinking that led you here? is there something i can do differently? is it work? is it a combination of things?"

"i wish it were that easy to explain, kento," you frown, glancing up at him helplessly. "but it's just... it's just a feeling i can't put into words. i can't pinpoint the source. i just... one minute i felt like i couldn't breathe, and the next i was..."

"okay," he repeats, letting you know that you no longer need to say anything more. you don't have to revisit it. he understands. he will take care of it. he'll help you. "okay, darling. how about this. i call off of work tomorrow and we can sit and talk about seeing a new therapist. then we can go out and do whatever you want. just for fun. does that sound okay with you?"

your nose flares and your lips tug to the side as you nod, truly not comprehending how you managed to find a man so patient with you. "yeah, that's good," you say softly, and nanami is at least relieved that you are willing to take further steps into a better direction.

"good," he whispers, rolling the sleeve of your sweater back down so that you no longer feel exposed or feel like you have to think any more about the things you did to yourself when you felt alone. "it's alright, my love. we'll get through it. you'll get past this just like you did last time," he encourages you, moving to caress your shoulder lovingly as you hold his gaze. "it's okay," he tells you again, and you nod weakly, leaning over to plop your head against his shoulder.

nanami holds you to him and exhales, food completely forgotten. his only priority now is to be there for you in the ways he could not before the two of you met.

"thank you for telling me."

choso kamo: choso worships the ground you walk on because he can not fathom a world without, nor the fact that you happened to stumble into his life on a whim. to imagine you hurt is the very worst thing that the man can think of, and the notion that you would hurt yourself is beyond his comprehension.

you aren't actively trying to hide any of your scars when he finds them. the scars are old, faded reminders of the pain that you used to endure and how you attempted to cope with it. while you are now six months free of self harming, the scars remain very present.

choso happens to catch sight of your scars when you are getting changed. he's sitting at the edge of your bed, face flushed, as he watches you blissfully change out of your pajamas and into clothes that you feel are best suited for a walk to the ice cream shop that choso has proposed. it's a bright sunday afternoon, and the brunette is eager to take advantage of the weather with the woman he holds close to his heart as well as his baby brother, who the two of you intend to meet at the store.

you're now dressed in nothing but a large white shirt and underwear, your legs bare as you strut around the space freely. choso's jade eyes follow you as you walk, completely obsessed with the way you move. he could watch you do the most mundane things for hours, which he truthfully tends to do anyway.

your back is to him before you round the bed, disappearing into the bathroom momentarily before coming back into the living room. choso's eyes still don't leave you, tracing over your face down your figure and finally to the front of your bare legs.

he falters, and his brows draw together when he catches dark marks littering over your inner thighs, only revealing themselves with the movement of your limbs as you walk.

the pale-skinned man grows confused and slightly concerned. he's never seen those marks on you before, and simultaneously, never on anyone else he knows either. he finds them to be a strange form of battle scars, especially due to the placement, the small size, and the sheer number of them. some of them take different shapes too, blurring together or over each other, while some stand out alone. they almost look like burns, but it's hard for choso to really tell.

you proceed about your business, searching through your drawer to pull out a skirt, when choso speaks up.

"love? what are those?" he asks curiously, perplexed.

you turn over your shoulder, shutting your drawer closed with your foot. "hm? what's what, cho?" you ask him, unsure of what he's referring.

choso, still slightly flustered by the vision of your half exposed body, nods his head into the direction of your lower legs. "those," he says again, and you look down, still lost.

you lift your foot momentarily, checking to see if something is stuck under or on top of it. you then survey the rest of your body, searching for something out of the ordinary. "uhhh," you trail off. "i'm not sure what you mean, baby. you're talking about my legs?"

you are far too desensitized to and familiar with the image of your scars to process that choso has never seen them before. the brunette, however, is unsatisfied, wanting an answer that you have yet to provide.

he leans forward, lifting his hand and pointing his finger directly to a patch of dark spots peeking out from your inner thighs. you follow his gaze, eyes landing on the culprits, and your shoulders drop in realization. "oh," you say shortly, choso retracting his hand.

he looks at you innocently, awaiting a response while you try to figure out how to explain this sight to him.

you don't want to worry him, but knowing choso, if you lead with the fact that these scars are there because you inflicted them onto yourself, he would have a heart attack, failing to find reason to your words.

even so, you know choso only wants to understand you as much as you desire to understand him. he wants to see the ugly parts as well as the beautiful parts of you that he is so drawn to, and if you hide it from him, that would only create a rift in your budding relationship that you aren't entirely too keen on creating.

you want him to know you, all of you, and these scars are as much of a part of you as the bones in your body and the blood pumping through your skin.

they're a sign of what you've been through, what you've overcome, and who you are now. they're important, and choso should know why they are there.

"that's a good question," you sigh, putting your skirt on the bed as you move to sit next to him at the edge of it. choso immediately turns to you, glancing over the marks shamelessly now that he has a better view of them.

"did someone do that to you?" is the first thought that crosses his mind, red drifting into his vision at the mere idea that someone has hurt you in such an intimate way.

"...no," you shake your head, lifting one leg up onto the bed, brushing his own, as the other dangles. "i put them there. a while ago," you explain honestly.

choso scrunches his brows tighter, eyes flickering up to your face then back down to try to identify what exactly the marks are. "what are they?" he repeats.

you exhale, puckering your lips as you prepare yourself for this difficult conversation. "they're burns, cho. from a match," you tell him.

now, the half-curse is incredibly confused. burn marks? on your lovely skin? in a place where only you could reach? put there by yourself?

you burned yourself?

"i don't understand," he frowns, shifting to face you better. "why would you..."

"i used to be in a really bad place, baby," you purse your lips, watching as his face contorts with consternation as he comes to understand that you purposefully harmed yourself.

"what do you mean? bad enough to do this to yourself?" he sounds mortified, his voice growing ragged the moment his tone picks up volume.

his pupils, moments ago blown pools of affection, are now shrunken dots of shock.

"don't look at me like that," you beg him, placing your hand over his own. his eyes snap to the sudden contact, then back to you with concern. "sometimes, when certain people are suffering from depression, or anxiety, or just overall bad thoughts and they feel like they have to... break out, or maybe punish themselves in a sense... they resort to hurting themselves."

choso gulps, lump forming in his throat as he listens to you with shaking eyes. "and that's what you did? you felt like you needed to punish yourself?"

"it's hard to explain to someone on the outside. i know it sounds... crazy, but it was the only way i knew how to cope with everything that i was dealing with."

"why didn't you come to me instead?" he immediately asks and you give him a sad, knowing look.

"because, we didn't know each other then, cho?"

"i don't care," he shakes his head, eyes keeping yours. "you should have found me."

the idea brings a hint of a smile to your lips, choso's sweetness warming your heart. "i didn't know who you were, baby, that would have been like begging a stranger for help."

"so?" he scoffs. "i loved you the moment i met you. it wouldn't have made any difference to me.

you sigh again, bringing your other hand to rest over top of your boyfriend's as you smile softly at him in an attempt to get him to calm down.

the panic is still written all over his face as he takes in your smile, the vision somehow only making him sadder. you're so gorgeous, inside and out, and that smile is only scratching the surface of your unending beauty.

to know now that your radiance was once outweighed by the torment in your mind encouraging you to harm yourself... well, it makes choso want to ball his eyes out. it makes him want to confront the physical manifestation of your past traumas and pummel it into the ground, bashing its head in for all the hurt that it has caused you.

"i ended up just fine, cho," you reassure him.

"why didn't you say anything before? were you trying to keep it from me?"

"no, baby, i just didn't think to tell you. i kinda forgot about them," you say, and that comment alone makes choso soften his features slightly.

"you forgot..." he recites your words. "does that mean you're better now?"

you hum in affirmation, smiling warmly. "it's been a while since i've hurt myself or done anything like that. i got through it. i'm okay now, these scars are just a permanent reminder of the past."

his frame sags slightly with relief, brows lifting as he looks over you with a blank expression. "i think i understand," he mumbles, looking back down at the marks. "i'm sorry you ever had to go through any of that."

"it's not your fault. you weren't there."

"i wish i had been. so i could have helped more. i know you said you're better, but maybe if i had been there i could've stopped you from hurting yourself at all."

"i wouldn't put that responsibility onto yourself, cho. it was my responsibility."

"still," his brows arch slightly. "i would have stuck with you every second of every day to make sure that you never had a second alone to do any of it. i wouldn't have let you, and i won't let you now." a thought seems to pop into his head when he finishes his last sentence. "you wouldn't go back to trying to hurt yourself, (y/n), would you?

you exhale. "i mean, i'd like to think i wouldn't, but sometimes these things aren't linear," you admit. "i just know that for now, i'm okay."

"the second you're not, though, you'd tell me?"

"yes. i would."

"you promise?"

"i promise, baby."

"okay," he sighs. "because i don't think i'd be able to function knowing you're upset."

the brown haired man leans over, carefully holding your thigh as he looks over your marks again, no longer flustered by your bare skin but entirely focused on the severity of your burns. you look down at him, hands slipping from his own as he surveys you closely like he's a doctor.

"they don't hurt anymore, do they?"

"nope. just scarred."

choso looks at you for a bit longer in silence before looking back up at you from his hunched state. "can i kiss them?"

you laugh softly, hand falling into his hair at you gaze at him with your heart aglow. "you want to kiss them?"

he nods. "so they can feel loved."

you coo, thumb smoothing over his temple as his eyes swell with adoration right before you. "of course you can."

toji fushiguro: toji is absolutely no stranger to scars. he's a human man with no cursed energy, having had his fair share of close calls on risky jobs that have left him with slashes over his calves, small pierces in his flesh, and cracked callouses. then, of course, there's the scar on his mouth bestowed upon him by his oh-so-loving family, which will be stuck with for the rest of his life.

scars follow toji like moths follow a flame, and he's numb to it. he believes that they are a part of life, both physically and mentally, especially with the kind of life that he leads. whether the wound is a large one or a small one he can barely see, he accepts scars as a part of who he is-

who he is.

while toji likes to parade around with a hardened exterior decorated with faded, scabbing wounds, that is something he deems fit for him and him only. he doesn't care what other people do with their lives as long as they leave him the hell out of it, but for the love of all the money that he has acquired over the years slaughtering sorcerers, he will be damned if he finds a single, tiny little scratch on your body.

scars are for toji, not for you, his darling little girlfriend and the day he finds out someone has hurt you enough to leave behind a mark is the day he's putting several bullets into the culprit's head.

toji's worst fear, though he hardly discusses it, is losing you and watching you get hurt. god, he practically lives to protect you, and to feel as though he has failed to do so would wound him detrimentally. he's a tough guy, but you make him so soft, and admittedly he wouldn't want to be soft for anyone but you. you're his rock, his little hot head, and he loves you more than life itself.

if you're hurt, he will lose it.

therefore, when he finds out that you're self-harming? oh, he's on the verge of losing his fucking mind.

he does a double-take when you step out of his room and into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your body, his eyes widening and his brows arching immediately.

now, toji knows your body inside and out. he's explored every inch, he knows every crook, every crevice, every mark, every texture, and he has never once in the six months you have been together seen the red lines over your inner wrist.

he watches you with twisted lips as you grab an orange from the counter before walking back into his direction. you're almost back into the room when toji calls you.

"uh uh," he stops you, and you pause, turning over your shoulder and purposefully moving your left wrist to press into your towel.

"what?"

"come here," he orders and you give him a strange look.

"why?"

"i wanna see somethin'. come here."

you're quick to snap back easily with your own sarcastic retort, clearly in a foul mood over something. "if you want to fuck, can you wait until i'm fully dried off and after i finish this?' you hold up the orange in your other hand, a perturbed look on your face.

"i don't want to fuck, (y/n), i want you to come here."

toji's voice comes out sternly, and on the verge of anger. you survey his posture, his arms leaning over his legs as he cranes to look at you with a suspicious, firm expression. you can tell that he's serious, and a sudden sense of fear overtakes you that you mask with annoyance.

you don't say a word when you slowly walk up to him, crossing your arms over your chest to conceal your wrist, the hand holding the orange tucked under your elbow.

"what is it?"

toji holds out his palm. "give it."

"...my orange?"

"put it in my hand."

you huff, carefully maneuvering your arm around to keep your inner wrist pointed toward your body as you bring forward the orange and plop it aggressively into his hand. toji watches your other arm the entire time, taking clear note of how you refuse to let your wrist show, and you know you're fucked.

the green-eyed man tosses the orange to the side of the couch and holds out his large palm again, eying you intensely. you look down at him with a frustrated frown, shrugging. "i don't have anymore oranges."

"don't be cute, doll."

"what? do you want my hand?"

"you know i want your hand."

you roll your eyes, raising the hand you had held your orange with when he stops you. "not that one. the other one."

your heart pangs, shaking your entire body as he looks to you expectantly. how the fuck had he managed to notice the scar on your wrist so quickly?

the moment you hesitate, he knows that what he saw earlier is something to be concerned about. you normally never hide yourself from toji, and the way you go about hiding your arm now is defensive enough to raise several brows. he knows you're not dumb, too. he knows that you know exactly what he wants to see.

"(y/n)." he cocks a brow, the severity of his demeanor only making you more uneasy.

he can't see. he can't see what you've just done. he'll hate you. he'll look at you like you're crazy.

"what if i don't want to give you my hand?"

"then i'll just grab it for you, and i don't think either of us wants to go there."

you release a trembling, aggravated breath. you can't get away with anything when toji's around, and while you ponder having chosen to get an orange later, you know deep down somewhere you wanted toji to see. you wanted him to help you, which is why you walked out of that bathroom half an hour after having put those scars on your arm.

"hand, now."

you turn your eyes away with a grunt, slapping your wrist into his hand facing downward. toji is quick to whip it upside once he has a grip on you, and his eyes seem to freeze over the sight of three fresh slices on your upper forearm up close.

his jaw clenches, then unclenches, then clenches and unclenches again as his lips twitch and his eyes adjust to the vision. you're hurt. not only are you hurt, but it looks as though you've recently been hurt. you've hurt yourself.

toji has a hard time figuring out what to do. he's not good with things like this, but he knows that seeing you with scars on your arm is quite literally about to set him off. he always imagined having to defend you from others who seek to hurt you, but never having to defend you from yourself.

he can't fathom it. he's struggling, the muscles in his eyes are twitching, and he can't handle it. he can feel his heart begin to race, unsure if he is angry or scared or mortified or devastated.

there are three lines in your arm. bright red. staring right back up at him.

and you put them there?

no way, you put them there.

but you did. clearly you did, or else you wouldn't be looking so guilty right now.

but when did you? how did you? why did you?

he doesn't know what to think. he doesn't know what to say. he swore he'd always protect you, but how does he even begin to try to protect you from yourself?

"are you out of your mind?"

the question leaves him rather calmly, a low inquiry that you are unsure is meant to be directed as an insult or a genuine ask.

you can't look at him. you don't even know what to think yourself. it had all happened so fast while you were in the bathroom, before you got into the shower.

one minute, you were staring angrily in the mirror, cursing your reflection as your wicked thoughts sprouted grubby arms and guided you toward the pair of brow scissors that you kept in your makeup cabinet on the left side of toji's bathroom.

you wanted to feel in control of the disdain you felt lurking within your soul. you wanted to feel something for fear that you would never be able to feel again, and before you knew it, you were dragging the exposed blade over your skin.

"d'you wanna explain why i'm looking at these cuts on your arm, (y/n)?"

and you know, you know that it's a bad sign when toji uses your name instead of the plethora of pet names he normally elects to call you: doll, princess, mama, girl, pretty baby- anything but your actual government name, and when you hear it roll from his tongue under these circumstances, you can only imagine what's going through his head.

you shift on your bare feet, looking down at your toes. "dunno," is all you say, and toji scoffs in disbelief.

"you don't know?" he emphasizes. "that's all you have to say?"

"if you wanna embarrass me, go ahead, toji. seriously, i'm tired."

"what the fuck makes you think i wanna embarrass you? i wanna know why the fuck my girlfriend walked out of the bathroom with cuts on her arm!"

you rip your arm away immediately when he yells, storming back off into his room and slamming the door behind you.

toji jumps up, suddenly frazzled. he doesn't want you alone in there. he doesn't want you out of his sight.

the navy haired man moves quickly to his door and grabs the handle, only to find it locked. he jiggles it harshly and bangs on the door. beginning to panic. "open the door, (y/n)," he shouts, meeting no reply.

little does he know, your back is pressed against the other side as tears crash over your cheeks. you don't know how you expected toji to react, but the look on his face just now and his tone of voice was enough to send you running off.

you feel ashamed, weak. you shouldn't have gone out there at all. you should have waited until you were dressed, discarding the whole idea of letting toji see what you did so that you could suffer in silence without his help, because what help could he truly provide anyway?

toji's a tough man, but he's soft for you. he would stand in front of a moving train for you. he would sacrifice his life for you, so when you don't answer, he imagines the worst.

"open the door," he says again, weaker, tugging desperately at the handle though he knows it won't budge. he knows he could break the door down, and he's prepared to until he hears you sniff amdist his pounding. he immediately stops, face dropping.

fuck.

this is bad.

he knew it was before, but for some reason, it's only now registering how bad this is.

you're in pain. you hurt yourself because you're in pain and you need him, but he doesn't know how to help you. he's never dealt with anything like this before.

his hand slides from the door and to his side, forehead knocking against the door though his other hand remains tight on the handle. he just needs to see you.

"princess," he mutters defeatedly. "don't make me kick this door in."

silence.

"please," he softens even more. "please, (y/n), let me in."

the house falls quiet once more and you give in. you feel so lost, and the only person who can at least comfort you, in his own way, is toji.

you slowly turn to unlock the door and step back as toji opens it swiftly, staring down at you with wide eyes and at least relieved to see that you haven’t done any further harm to your body.

he does, however, see your tears.

his face tightens as he bends down to scoop you up in an instant, your legs and arms tightening around him as you snivel into his shoulder, his large palms sliding over your body. he feels your small body tremble against him as he walks the two of you over to the edge of his bed, sitting down as you cling to him like a koala.

"i dunno what happened," you whimper into him. "i dunno why i did it. i dunno. i dunno."

you say it over and over, your voice as broken as toji feels listening to you.

he wishes he knew what to do. he wishes he was better equipped to handle this, but never in his worst nightmares did he dream that he would find you here, his fiery girl, the love of his life.

he's been so busy trying to protect you from the outside world that he hasn't even thought about the things that could harm you from within.

he stays silent as you babble to him through tears, holding you just like he knew how. he doesn't want to picture those scars on you. he doesn't want to picture what led you to put them there. he just wants to hold you, to at least let you know that he's here and he's not going anywhere. he may not know how to help, but he knows how to love you and he hopes that's enough.

"i'm not letting you out of my sight, y'hear?" he says gruffly into your ear and you nod meekly. "i'm not letting this happen ever again. not as long as i'm alive."

he mentally swears to rid your house and his of any and every sharp object he can find and to throw it all in a safe as you sink into him.

toji knows how to protect and toji knows how to fight. though he's more acclimated with fighting others, if he has to fight to protect yourself from your innermost demons, then hell, he will find a way to do just that.

sukuna ryomen: lord help you and lord help anyone within a fifty-mile radius when the king of curses discovers that you've been harming yourself.

sukuna is not at all very good with his words or his expressions of affirmations. he is a being of action, and he believes that he has proven his love for you enough by simply allowing you to be in his presence longer than anyone else ever has or ever will.

at first, when he sees a scar or two on your leg, he thinks its just an accident or a result of you being clumsy. then, three more pop up, then five, then far more than he's even willing to count, and he decides that this scar pattern is somehow intentional.

he knows no one else has marked them onto you because he is prepared to kill anyone who comes too close, especially if they have ill intentions. if you were in danger at someone else's hand, he would be the first to know and the person meaning you harm would be dead before they could even think about touching you.

therefore, when he sees that the only person normally within your company is him, uraume, and yourself, the process of elimination leads him to you.

he goes about confronting you rather harshly, as well, for he knows no other way to be.

you're out in the garden of his large residence one day, soaking up the sun, when you hear familiar, loud stomps heading your way from behind.

you turn around and squint to peer up at sukuna, who is standing over you with a menacing glare in his crimson eyes. you don't necessarily find this out of the ordinary, so you greet him as usual.

"hi, kuna," you say sweetly. "you good?"

he is not good. not at all, so he gets straight to the point. "come inside, woman."

you quirk a brow. "why? i just got out here?"

"do not question me."

"can it wait, like, fifteen minutes?"

"do you wish to live in the next fifteen minutes?"

you sigh, entirely too used to sukuna's facade of cruelty around you. you know by now that the king of curses would never dare to hurt you.

"i do intend, to live, yes," you smirk.

"then you will come inside as i have demanded."

"no, sukuna. i want to stay out here for a bit. i've been inside all day."

the pink haired man fumes, teeth grinding together in agitation. he doesn't want to delay this conversation any further than it has already been delayed, but of course, you choose to be difficult.

"very well, we will do this out here," he growls and you smile.

"good."

you don't prepare yourself for when sukuna grabs the back of your chair and whips out around to face him with the unpleasant screech of the legs against the cobblestone. you wince, then retract your face when sukuna lowers his to stare at you from mere centimeters away, one of his arms grasping to push up the lose leg of your shorts up to reveal the set of scars littering your skin.

your eyes go wide, his movements too quick for you to process all at once.

"are these your doing?" he hisses and you gulp.

"s-sukuna-"

"i did not ask for you to say my name. i asked if these scars are your doing."

his eyes are piercing, striking directly into yours. "what are you talking about?" you whisper shakily.

"are we going to pretend like you're an idiot now?" he snarls. he's so mean, but he feels it's for good reason. your body has been tainted, and for some reason, you have been doing the tainting. he needs to know why.

you shake your head weakly. "no..."

"then answer me properly. i will not repeat myself a third time."

you bite down on your lower lip, heart ringing in your ears. you didn't even know sukuna paid attention to you enough to catch wind of something like this.

"yes... i did this," you finally tell him, and sukuna is livid.

"and why would you be doing something so foolish? scars are not something you are meant to give yourself, human."

"please don't be a dick, sukuna, not right now."

"i am asking a perfectly reasonable question and i expect you to answer it," he glowers. "now."

"you wouldn't understand if i told you," you frown and he clicks his tongue.

"stop assuming things of me before i lock you inside of my room where you can not escape or even fathom doing something like this to yourself again under my supervision."

you curl your brows, frowning up at your boyfriend. "if i tell you, you'll call me foolish."

"because this is foolish," he grunts. "but i will not if my doing so will get you to fucking explain yourself."

you shake your head, looking down and contemplating before deciding to just get it over with so that he can stop putting you on the spot. "sometimes i just feel shitty," is all you elect to say.

but sukuna is hardly satisfied with this response. "so you choose to inflict pain upon yourself instead of calling upon me?"

"i told you, you wouldn't understand," you say. "it's not something i can easily explain to you either."

sukuna narrows his eyes. "fine."

he lowers himself to grab you legs and throw you over his shoulder. you squeal, grabbing onto his back as he begins to walk you back into his home and toward his room. "sukuna!" you kick your legs around. "put me down!"

"no. you're coming with me, and you're going to sit and talk me through every single thought that has crossed your little mind to make you think that injuring yourself in such a way is tolerable within the walls of my residence. then after that, you'll come with me everywhere i go from this point on."

"what?!" you exclaim from where you hang upside down. "I don't wanna go everywhere you go," you wine.

"too bad. you should have thought of that before you decided to harm yourself."

sukuna is horrible with words, and far more horrible with expressing his concerns, but despite your temporary discomfort with how he goes about approaching the situation, you can still see in the pinch of his brow and the stiffness of his posture, combined with his refusal to let you go without a proper explanation, that he cares very deeply for your wellbeing.

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sugugasm · 3 months

Text

☆ CLICK TO PLAY ! ➜ 450 DEGREES

YOUR LEVEL IS STARTING SOON . . .

level quest : pov ur neighbor is a firefighter, and you love a man in uniform . . just as much as he loves your chocolate chip cookies.

☆ — a message from the developer : hiii i missed uguys sm, i’m so glad to be back for realsies this time :p don’t mind any mistakes or errors & before you read — nsfw content up ahead so pretty please read these warnings !!! strangers to lovers !!! age gap alert ➜ toji is 35 and reader is 25, mentions of sexual themes such as oral, vaginal penetration, pet names such as : sweetheart, angel, baby ofc, princess, honey, etc. usage of sexual terms and usage of terms describing female anatomy, uses she/her pronouns. firefighter! toji x baker! blk fem! reader 333 — word count : 8.0K or 9.0K, i lost track LOL

“fuck . .”

toji cut the engine of his ford pickup and sat for a moment, eyes closed, letting the silence wash over him. every muscle ached with exhaustion, the double shift of 48 hours catching up to him. he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in an actual bed instead of snatching a few hours on the lumpy firehouse couch in between calls.

sighing, he grabs his duffel from the passenger seat and levers himself out of the truck. as he turns toward the house, a flash of color across the street quickly catches his attention. his new neighbor — you, out puttering in your postage stamp front yard, wearing a tank top the same vivid coral as the geraniums you were watering and cut-off jean shorts that barely qualified as clothing to any old, bitter bastard.

he’d seen you before. many times. whether it was while leaving for an early session at the gym as you walked your puppy, or his moving day . . where he could barely order around gojo and geto, struggling to tell them where they should place certain boxes due to hearing your alluring giggle coming from the house next door, your curls flowing in the breeze as you gossiped over iced lemonade with mrs. johnson on her porch.

his thoughts are interrupted when you glance toward him, face lighting up with a friendly smile as you spotted him. “hi there! nice to finally see you in the flesh instead of just passin’ headlights at odd hours of the night.”

“sorry about that.” toji hoped his answering smile passed for normal and not serial-killer exhausted. “i’m toji, toji fushiguro. i jus’ moved in last month.”

“well m’ yn. welcome to the neighborhood!” you propped a hand on one cocked hip, thoughtlessly drawing his eye to the thickness of your legs that almost looked golden in the sun lighting.

jesus.

realizing he was staring, he jerks his gaze back to your face, feeling his neck heat up at the idea of you catching on. “thanks. s’ a nice area. quiet.”

“i like to think we're a pretty welcomin’ bunch. in fact . . .” you bite your lip, looking almost shy for a second. “i was plannin’ to do some baking later, as a housewarming gift for all the newbies. any requests? cookies, muffins, scones? i make a mean cinnamon roll too.”

an unexpected warmth kindled in toji’s chest at the kindness of the offer. even as his stomach rumbled in anticipation, he couldn't remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to do something nice for him. sadly, baked goods didn't really tend to hold up well on 24-hour shifts.

“that’s really sweet of you, thanks. i love a good chocolate chip cookie, but i’ll happily be your guinea pig for anything.”

“sounds like a plan.” you graced him with another one of those classic, southern hospitality miles. “i’ll surprise you. they’ll be over before you know it!”

“looking forward to it. i better let you get back to . .” he waves a hand vaguely at the riot of flowers on your lawn, colors and smells galore.

“oh, right. see you soon then. welcome home!” with a small wave, you bend to retrieve the watering can, giving him an unobstructed view of her perky ass in those obscenely small shorts.

strangling a groan, toji spun on his heel and double-timed it into the house before you caught him ogling you like a creep. so much for a quiet neighborhood, he thought ruefully as the door shut behind him. you were gonna’ be one hell of a distraction, though some traitorous part of him looked forward to the temptation. it’d been way too long since he'd been around a pretty girl. maybe that's what all this edginess was - his libido waking up and taking notice after a long dry spell.

well, he'd just have to keep any wayward urges in check. no matter how mouthwatering you looked in tiny cutoffs, you were practically a decade younger and a neighbor, at that. off limits. he’d accept your baked goods, enjoy a little innocent flirting, but anything more was out of the question.

resolved, he headed for the shower, already counting the minutes until he could taste whatever delights you were whipping up for him.

the next morning, toji was on his second cup of coffee, basking in the rare luxury of an empty day ahead with no responsibilities, when the doorbell chimed. he opened it to find you, juggling a huge wicker basket with an equally enormous smile. the sweet scent of sugar, vanilla and chocolate wafted out to tease his nostrils so blissfully, just like how your sheer presence teased . . . other parts of him.

“g’mornin’,” you chirped. “i come bearing gifts from the sugar fairy.”

“so i smell . .” his mouth waters as he relieves you of the basket and ushers you inside, noting how your flowered sundress set off your peaches-and-cream personality. no shorts today, but the dress was nearly as enticing as it grasped on to your curves. he wondered if your skin would taste as good as you smelled, then mentally slapped himself.

down boy.

“i hope you don't mind me just droppin’ by like this. i wanted to catch you before you got busy.” your smile faltered slightly as you glanced around the spartan space with its generic bachelor furniture and decided lack of personal touches. “if s’ not a good time . .”

toji set the basket on the coffee table and turned to her, hands raised in mock surrender. “you came to my house bearin’ gifts of dessert. trust me, it's never gonna’ be a bad time. i may actually make some sort of sugar delivery beacon to summon you in the future.”

your laugh sounded a little relieved. “aww cute, sounds like my kind of bat signal. i’ll have to get you a spotlight shaped like a cupcake.”

“make it a cookie and you've got yourself a deal.” he grinned at you. “can i interest you in some coffee to go with whatever magic you've got in there? smells incredible.”

“coffee would be great, thank you.”

he led the way into the kitchen, noting how you took in details like the depressing lack of clutter and decoration. the only personal items were a handful of framed photos stuck to the fridge - him and his siblings as kids, his parents' wedding portrait, shots of fishing trips with his buddies — one with snow-white hair and the other with black. it struck him how sterile the space was, more like a way station than a home.

you didn't comment on it, instead you just leaned a hip on the counter and watched him pour a darkened substance into a ‘worlds worst morning person’ mug. there’s a comforting silence as he catches a whiff of your light perfume over the powerful espresso aroma - something floral and citrusy. it suited you.

“i wasn't sure what kind of treats you'd like, so i made a sampler of my greatest hits,” you say brightly. at his gesture, you unpack the basket, setting containers and various utensils on the table. “okay so . . we’ve got triple chocolate chip cookies, blueberry muffins, apple cinnamon scones, and my famous brown butter cinnamon rolls.”

“good lord,” toji shook his head in awe. “you made all this yesterday? after we spoke? do you even sleep?”

you laugh and accept the steaming mug he offered. “who needs sleep when there's sugar? besides, baking relaxes me. i love seeing people enjoy my creations.”

as if on cue, his stomach rumbles loudly, and you bit your lip against a smile. “sounds like someone's ready for a taste test. don’t be shy . . dig in.”

toji didn't need to be told twice. he selected a cinnamon roll, still warm from the oven, and bit in with a moan that would've been beyond embarrassing if his mouth wasn't full of heaven. “shit . . think i jus’ found my religion.”

you giggled that giggle that’d been stuck in his head since the day he heard it. “the cinnamon rolls tend to inspire a cult-like devotion. you haven't even tried em’ with the cream cheese frosting yet.”

he halted with the pastry halfway to his mouth for another rapturous bite. “there’s frosting too?”

in answer, you pulled a container from the basket with a flourish. “i figured you could handle adding your own so it didn't get soggy.”

“you’re an angel.” he slathered a generous amount of fluffy white frosting on the roll, not even caring that he probably looked like an overexcited kid.

watching him take another blissful bite, you cradled your coffee mug in both hands. “soo . . what d’you do that keeps you gettin’ home at such odd hours? i promise m’ not stalking you, but it's a quiet street. hard not to notice the comings and goings.”

toji washed down the sticky-sweet mouthful with a swig of coffee. “i’m a firefighter. we work 24-hour shifts, so my schedule can be pretty unpredictable."

interest sparked in your eyes. “really? that’s so cool! i bet you have some amazing stories.”

“eh. a few,” he allowed. truthfully he tried not to dwell on some of the things he'd seen, the memories that still occasionally jolted him awake in a cold sweat during the night. “it’s rewarding work, but not exactly a picnic for the social life.”

you give him a sympathetic look over the rim of her mug. “i can imagine. is that why you moved? needed a fresh start?”

“somethin’ like that. the job costed me my marriage a couple years back. got tired of walkin’ around the old place alone, so i thought a change of scenery might do me good.”

change of scenery in deed. toji even went as far as to relocate to a different state after his divorce with his wife. even the landscaping around the city had become too much of a heartache. what was once a happy, sensual marriage quickly turned sour the moment toji began working more. the position as chief hadn’t sounded that horrible in his head, but if he knew he’d come home one night - the clock reading exactly 3:17 am, to an unrecognizable man fast asleep in his bed, naked next to his wife, that that position could’ve waited. could’ve been passed on.

there’s a silent second between you two, your face still, “i-im so sorry,” you say softly, and toji feels relief when he sees that your eyes were warm with understanding, free of the pity he'd come to dread whenever his divorce came up in any other conversation he’d have with someone who didn’t know him.

he shrugged. “it is what it is. we married too young, grew apart. my hours didn't help. no hard feelings though.” he mustered up a wry smile. “what about you? you’re a little young to be living the retired grandma life, baking up a storm in the 'burbs.”

you grin, allowing him to lighten the mood. “hey, hey, hey, this grandma can party with the best of em’! fyi, i stayed up past 10 last saturday watching bad girls club.”

toji clutches his chest in feigned shock. “damn, so scandalous! what was the special occasion?”

“all have you know . . i was trying to perfect a new macaron recipe. passionfruit with dark chocolate ganache. they’re a fickle mistress though - one minute too long in the oven and they're as dry as bones.”

“sounds like bakin’ is more than jus’ a hobby for you,” he observed.

you toy with your mug. “it’s my whole life, really. i’m in my second year of culinary school, specializing in pastry arts. when i graduate, i’m hoping to open my own bakery. somewhere people feel welcome and cared for. a safe space, i suppose.” he stares, and you duck your head with an embarrassed laugh. “sorry for the tangent . . it probably sounds so silly.”

“not at all.” toji found himself impressed by the passion and dedication evident in your voice. you had a dream and you were going after it. he remembered that feeling. before the reality of adulthood had started chipping away at his own youthful idealism.

he wanted to say something to encourage you, to protect that light shining in your eyes for as long as possible. “for what it's worth, i think you're gonna’ be amazing,” he told you seriously, holding your gaze. “if this morning’s haul is any indication, you'll have lines around the block.”

you shield your smiling face sweetly. “that’s kind of you to say. i appreciate the vote of confidence. speaking of . .” you hesitate, then forge ahead. “m’ actually working on developing an original signature recipe for my final. multiple components, flavors, textures. the works.”

“sounds ambitious,” he said, eyebrows raised. “what’d you have in mind?”

your eyes sparkle with enthusiasm at the question, the thought of genuine curiosity making your heart flutter. “deconstructed black forest cake. dark chocolate cake, kirsch-soaked cherries, vanilla bean whipped cream. i wanna’ play with it, update it. maybe turn it into a trifle or a parfait of some sort.”

toji was no culinary expert. hell - he didn’t even know what half of those things were, but even he could tell you were on to something special. “that’s incredible, yn. lemme’ guess - you need a guinea pig?”

you bite your lip nervously, smile turning impish. “i didn't wanna’ impose, but since you offered the other day . . how would you like to be my official taste-tester? i can't really pay you, but you'll get free rein to sample every variation.”

“where do i sign up?” he was only half joking. even if your creations turned out to be awful, which he highly doubted, any excuse to spend more time with you sounded like a win.

you laugh. “i think i can waive the usual application process on account of the fact that you're doing me a huge favor. plus, it means you won't be able to avoid me constantly showing up at your door to force-feed you desserts.”

“oh no. however will i cope.” he feigned a put-upon sigh.

you shot him a look of amused reproof as she packed up the empty containers. “try to contain your disappointment. i promise to space out surprise sugar bombings. wouldn’t wanna’ make you sick of me or my baking."

“i don’t really think i ever could . . to be honest,” he declared firmly. on impulse, he reaches out to still your fluttering hands with his own. your skin was so soft and warm, sending a tingle zipping up his arm. your breath pauses at the contact and your eyes flew to his, startled.

“i mean it,” he said, voice gone low and intent as he tries to infuse sincerity into every word. “i can't imagine ever getting tired of you. or your company.”

for a suspended moment you just stare at each other in silence. then you swallow, sounding a little breathless as you replied, “likewise. m’ really glad you moved in, toji.”

“me too,” he said roughly. and though he knew he shouldn't, that he was venturing into dangerous territory, he allowed himself to stroke the delicate bones of your wrist with his thumb. just once, to feel your shiver lightly in response. then he released you and stepped back, moving to hold the door open for you in unspoken signal.

“i’ll get out of your hair now,” you murmured as you gathered the empty basket with hands that trembled just slightly. “but i’ll see you soon? for taste testing purposes, of course.”

“absolutely,” he confirmed. “anytime. y’know where to find me.”

with a final nod and smile, you slipped out the door. he watched you go, admiring the sway of your hips, the bounce of your hair, already counting the minutes until he'd see you again.

you were gonna’ end him, so so sweetly too., he realized with a trace of fatalism.

but what a way to go, huh? death by cinnamon rolls.

the day of the first official tasting arrived, and toji found himself unaccountably nervous as he approached your door. he felt a like an awkward kid picking up his prom date, palms sweaty and heart knocking around his ribs. which was ridiculous. this wasn't a date. just two neighbors getting together to sample some sweets. totally casual.

never mind that he'd changed his shirt three times, vacillating between wanting to look nice for you and not wanting to seem like he was trying too hard. he’d finally settled on a plain black tee and his least disreputable pair of jeans, adding a hint of cologne as an afterthought.

now, standing on your stoop, he wished he'd brought something. flowers maybe — lillie’s like the ones in your garden, or perhaps wine. did people bring wine to taste testing sessions? probably not. you’d most likely think he was a presumptuous idiot.

shaking his head at his own weird bout of nerves, he raised his hand to knock. before his knuckles could connect, the door swung open to reveal you, looking adorably pretty and flustered. you were wearing a frilly pink apron over a gauzy white sundress scattered with tiny red cherries. your hair was bundled on top of your head in a haphazard knot, loose curls escaping to dance around your swelled cheeks. a dusting of cocoa powder streaked one of them.

“toji - oh, you’re right on time! m’ runnin’ a bit behind, so sorry. come on in.” you stepped back to let him enter and he caught a blend of tantalizing scents - rich chocolate, sweet cherries, warm vanilla, and underneath, the subtle floral musk that was purely you. it made his head swim and his stomach clench with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with the promise of dessert.

he followed you into the kitchen, blinking a bit as he took in the transformation. when he'd helped you carry in groceries a few days ago, the room had been tidy and quaint, with cheerful yellow walls and kitschy retro appliances. now every surface was strewn with baking detritus - bowls, whisks, spatulas, piping bags. the air was hazy with a fine mist of flour and powdered sugar, swirling in the slanting sunlight.

incongruously delicate paper doilies serving as placemats were scattered with miniature cakes, puddles of sauce, and billows of snowy cream. it looked like a fancy bakery had exploded all over the place.

“as you can see, i’ve been experimenting with a few different iterations of the concept,” you said with a small smile, waving a hand at the sugary chaos. “couldn’t settle on just one. i thought i’d get your input n’ then we could narrow it down together.”

“i’m at your service,” he told you gallantly, skating his gaze over the counter. “i’ll warn you though, my palate isn't exactly refined. you might end up with the bland 'it all tastes good' as feedback.”

you giggled. “i’ll take it. okay, let's start basic.” you gestured for him to take a seat at the flour-dusted table and set a plate in front of him. on it perched a generous slice of cake, glossy with ganache, accompanied by a scarlet swoosh of what he assumed was the cherry compote. a dollop of whipped cream, flecked with black speckles, completing the overall masterpiece look.

toji quickly picked up the fork and took a bite, closing his eyes to focus on the flavors. the cake was intensely chocolate, the ganache dark and silky. tart-sweet cherries burst on his tongue, balanced by the subtle fragrance of the vanilla-specked cream.

“damn,” he mumbled around the mouthful. “fuckin’ fantastic, yn.”

you beam, looking relieved. “yeah? the cake recipe took a while to get right. i wanted something more . . . complex than a standard chocolate cake, so i used black cocoa powder to really amp up the flavor. n’ i even added a little coffee to enhance the chocolate.”

“s’ a winner,” he assured you. “i dunno’ how you could improve on it, honestly.”

“oh i have a few ideas,” your smile turned mysterious. “you haven't seen anything yet.”

over the next hour, you walked him through several variations. chocolate cake layered with cherry compote and kirsch-soaked chocolate cake crumbs, topped with cocoa whipped cream. dark chocolate and cherry bread pudding drizzled with cherry coulis. chocolate panna cotta with drunken cherries and cherry gelée . . . and toji sampled them all, humming with pleasure while you watched him anxiously. your initial nerves seemed to melt away as you lost yourself in describing the ins and outs of each dish - the technical challenges, the way certain flavors complemented or contrasted, ideas for garnishes and plating.

he found himself captivated by your intensity, the way your whole being lit up when you talked about your craft. it was more than just a job or a hobby for you . . . it was a calling. he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that kind of soul-deep passion for anything. couldn’t take his eyes off the way your slender hands sketched shapes in the air, punctuating your words. delicate, clever hands that created so much beauty.

“earth to toji,” teased, waving one of those mesmerizing hands in front of his face. “did i lose you? too much of a sugar crash?”

toji blinked and refocused on your amused expression, realizing he'd been caught woolgathering like an idiot. “sorry, just slipped into a brief dessert coma. what were you saying?”

“i was asking what you think of this last one. it’s the more . . . wildcard of the bunch.” you pushed a small glass toward him. it looked like a miniature trifle, with layers of cake and cream, a vivid cherry layer in the middle, and a fan of shaved chocolate on top.

he dug in and had to suppress an absolutely obscene moan. the combination was incredible - velvety smooth, creamy, rich, and fruity, with a kick from what had to be a generous glug of kirsch. sweet but not cloying, a sophisticated twist on a classic.

“i think we have a winner,” he managed, not even caring that his voice came out husky. “if you're going for adding a 'wow' factor, this is it.”

you stand on your tippy-toes, looking hopeful. “you think? i couldn't decide if it was too out there. verrines aren't exactly traditional black forrest cake material.”

“doesn’t matter. it’s a showstopper. interesting to look at, fun to eat, n’ the flavor is phenomenal.” he scraped the glass clean with his spoon, not wanting to waste a drop.

your smile could've lit up the city block. “thank you, toji. you don't know how much it means to me, you bein’ here. lettin’ me talk your ear off and stuff you with treats. it really . . helps a lot."

“believe me, it's my pleasure,” he said, returning her smile with one of his own. “i haven't had this much fun in . . i can't even remember how long. i like seein’ you in your element.”

you both just grin goofily at each other for a moment, the air feeling thicker. then you hopped up and began clearing the table, stacking dishes and bustling around the small space.

“y’know i feel bad, you feedin’ me all these goodies without me contributing anything,” toji said, rising to help. “at least lemme’ take you out for a meal that isn't 90% butter and sugar. you must be sick of cookin’, day in and day out.”

you slanted him a glance, tucking a stray curl behind one ear. “m’ not, actually. it never feels like a chore. but i . . wouldn't say no to dinner out. if you're sure you don't mind.”

mind? he’d been trying to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you, and here you were gift wrapping one for him. “i’d love to,” he said firmly. “s’ the least i can do. and i’d like to hear more about this final project of yours. when do you present it?”

“next month,” a shadow crossed your expressive face, there and gone in a blink. “m’ tryin’ not to think too much about it yet. one step at a time, y’know?”

he recognized that look. the flickering uncertainty, the hint of stage fright. he’d worn it himself, back before his first real fire. wanting so badly to prove himself, to show what he was made of, terrified of choking.

impulsively, he reached for your hand, halting her flitting movements. your fingers curled reflexively around his, warm and strong. “look at me . . . you got this. you’re a star, you're gonna’ impress the hell outta’ your professors.”

you swallowed hard, eyes searching his. looking for the belief you couldn't quite muster on your own. “i hope so. i want it so much, toji. this . . all of it. it’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

“then don't let fear hold you back,” he told you gently. “don’t doubt yourself. you have a gift, mama. i know m’ a dumb scrub who can barely tell a macaron from a macaroon, but even i can see that you were born for this shit.”

your hand squeezed his, almost painfully tight. from both the nickname rolling off his tongue so elegantly and the encouragement that you sometimes failed to receive from your closest peers. “thank you, seriously,” you whispered. “for believin’ in me, i guess. it means a lot to me . . .”

he squeezes back, thumb sweeping over your knuckles. he had a sudden, wild urge to haul your into his arms. to soothe the worry from your brow with his lips, to show you with his hands and body and breath how special you were. how much he'd come to care for you in such a short time.

but he couldn't. however strong the pull, however much he wanted to cross that line, he knew it would be a mistake. you weren’t for him, this shining woman with stardust in her eyes. and he was in no position to offer you anything real. he needed to remember that.

so he contented himself with a soft “anytime,” and released your hand, stepping back to a safer distance. “now, about that dinner. friday work for you?”

you blinked, then hitched your smile back into place. it wobbled a bit at the edges, but he pretended not to notice. “friday’s great. s’ a . . . plan.”

even through the awkwardness, the unspoken words clogging the air between you, a little thrill went through him. it’s a date, you’d almost said. and god help him, he wished it was — that’s why you settled on making plans to try the new, cozy italian restaurant that had opened downtown, the one you’d mentioned wanting to visit after a neighborhood watch meeting one night. it was intimate . . . romantic. toji walked home with a lightness in his step, an unfamiliar flutter in his gut. he was in trouble, he knew he was. you were trouble in ways he hadn't encountered before. you made him feel too much.

more than he ever had.

but he was in too deep to back out now. all he could do was try to keep a clear head, keep things casual and platonic. be your friend and supporter, nothing more. his life, his job . . there was no room for complications.

even if he was beginning to suspect it was already far too late.

the days leading up to friday passed in a blur of anticipation and nerves, though toji did his best to ignore both. ‘it isn’t a date. she’s not into you. this isnt a fuckin’ date . . .’ he reminded himself sternly, no matter how much his idiot heart wanted to pretend otherwise. just dinner between neighbors. a thank you for your tireless taste testing efforts. nothing to get all hot n’ bothered about.

so then why the fuck had he changed outfits half a dozen times before settling on the nicest button-down he owned and a new pair of dark wash jeans? why had he agonized over whether to bring flowers or wine or both . . again? this was so embarrassing. he was so embarrassing. he’d think being married once would've meant he had at least a little bit of game . . but nope - he had nothing.

taking a deep breath, he knocked on your door at precisely 7pm. when it swung open to reveal you, his lungs almost stopped in their tracks. you looked no less than stunning in a ruffled dress, in the pretty shade of baby-pink, your hair tumbling over your bare shoulders - half up, half down and bumped at the ends. a slim gold chain nestled in the hollow of your throat, shamefully drawing his eyes down to the swells of your titties.

“fuck . .” he said inanely, tongue suddenly clumsy in his mouth. “m’ so sorry. forgive me, i mean, you look . . absolutely amazing.”

a shy smile curved your lips, brightening your whole face up. “thanks . . so do you, toji.” your eyes skimmed over him appreciatively and he fought the urge to preen.

“o-oh, these are for you.” he thrusts the slightly wilted grocery store bouquet at you, wincing inwardly at his own awkwardness.

but you just smile, cradling the limp blooms like they were something so precious. “how sweet of you! i love daisies. lemme’ jus’ put these in some water and we can go.” you disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to marvel at how such a simple gesture could delight you so thoroughly. damn, you were so lovely. inside and out.

the drive to the restaurant was filled with easy conversation interspersed with comfortable silences. toji let you be in control of the radio, secretly charmed by your off-key humming to the cheesy pop songs in rotation on your playlist. he could imagine countless nights like this, aimless drives with no destination in mind, just content to be in your company with no one to bother.

and dinner was a laughter-filled affair, trading bites of pasta and garlicky bread, arguing playfully over the merits of various desserts. you entertained him with customer service horror stories from your barista days, confessing your penchant for ‘accidentally’ giving rude patrons decaf.

in turn, toji found himself sharing more than he usually did - funny anecdotes about his buddies at the firehouse, his worries about his little sister starting college in the fall, even a bit about his dad. the words came without effort, drawn out by your natural warmth and empathy.

he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed anyone's company so effortlessly.

when the check came, he wouldn't let you even reach for it. you rolled your eyes but allowed him to pay, primly informing him you were getting the next one. his stomach flipped at the unthinking promise of a next time.

you then lingered over coffee and dessert - the restaurant's version didn't even hold a candle to your black forest verrines, but you were too polite to say so - neither wanting the evening to end. toji watched you lick chocolate from your spoon, entranced by the tiny pink flash of your tongue. wishing he could lean in and taste the sweetness of your mouth. a pleasant shiver chased over his skin, heat simmering low in his belly. he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you - this maddening mix of tender and carnal, the urge to both protect and possess.

“mmm,” you purred appreciatively, pulling the spoon from your mouth with an obscene pop. “whoever said that chocolate isn’t better than sex clearly hadn't tasted chocolate like this.”

toji swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively in his throat. “playin’ with fire are we?” he manages to rasp, fingers clenching around his mug.

you placed the spoon delicately on your empty plate, fingers lingering just long enough to draw his attention to their graceful dance. “who says i’m playin’, handsome?” you quip.

he was so fucked. so. totally. fucked.

afterwards, he walked you to your door, hands shoved deeply n’ awkwardly into his pockets to keep from doing something stupid like reaching for your hand. you then hovered on the stoop, the sultry summer night pressing in close.

“i had fun tonight,” you softly. in the light spilling from your living room window, your eyes were luminous. hopeful. “we should really do it again sometime.”

“we should,” he agreed, mouth dry. he couldn't look away from your face, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, the dark feathering of your lashes. you swayed closer, tipping your face up to his, and his heartbeat kicked into overdrive. god, you were killing him.

it took every ounce of willpower to step back, to force a chuckle past the ache in his chest. “well i should let you get your beauty sleep. early start tomorrow, right?” your smile faltered, a brief tightening around your eyes hinting at disappointment. he almost caved right then, almost said to hell with his reservations and dragged you into his arms the way he'd been dying to do all night.

but he couldn't. not when he had nothing more to offer you than heartache.

“right,” you murmured. “beauty sleep. so important for . . . baking.” you fumbled for your keys, not quite meeting his gaze. “i’ll see you round’ then.” he could only watch you retreat into the house, torn between relief at the bullet dodged and an overwhelming sense of loss.

wearily, he turned to go back to his own quiet home. he’d done the right thing. the smart thing. so why did it feel so damnably hollow?

avoidance was the order of the day after that near-miss. though it pained him, toji forced himself to keep some distance, to not make up flimsy excuses to show up on your doorstep at all hours of the night. no more dessert development sessions, no matter how much he craved the sight of you gushing and twirling over your latest creations. no more cute, little dinners with furtive hand holding under the table.

he threw himself into work with even more zeal than usual, pulling extra shifts and helping out with the neverending station chores. if the guys ribbed him about his sudden devotion to alphabetizing the equipment room or polishing the engine to a blinding shine, he shrugged it off. it was loads better than going home to an empty house haunted by what-ifs.

he ached to see you though. sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of you catering to your garden or heading off to the market, and his fingers would itch with the urge to go to you, to close the seemingly unbridgeable gap between you both with long strides and strong arms. more than once he'd picked up his phone to call you, thumb hesitating over your smiling face in his contacts until he cursed and tossed the phone aside.

it was for the best, he told himself firmly. you had your whole life ahead of you - school and internships, building your dream from the ground up. he’d only get in the way, bog you down with his everlasting issues and cynicism. he wouldn't, couldn't be the dead weight holding you back.

even if letting you go felt like tearing himself in half.

he should've known you wouldn't let him slink away so easily. that for all your sweetness, you were just as stubborn as he was. you’d never been one to give up on the things - or people - you wanted.

which bring us to now . . you ambushing him on his way home from a grueling 48-hour shift, looking unfairly pretty and indignant as you marched across the street to plant yourself in front of his truck. he barely bit back a groan, exhaustion and longing a potent cocktail in his bloodstream.

“hey, stranger,” you said archly, fine brows drawn together in a scowl. “long time no annoy.”

he cut the engine and climbed out, suddenly self-conscious about his unwashed, smoke-saturated state. “hi, yn. how’s it going?”

“ah, y’know. jus’ workin’ myself to the bone, trying to perfect this dessert that's only the culmination of my entire academic career thus far. while also attempting to figure out how i mysteriously pissed off my friend to the point of complete radio silence.” your arms crossed over your chest, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes, “so yeah . . the usual.”

guilt lodged under his breastbone, sharp and corroding. he’d never meant to upset you, to make you think any of this was at all your fault. “shit, yn. i’m sorry . . i didn’t mean to ignore you, i’ve just been so -”

“busy . .” you finished for him, mouth flattening. “mhm, i’ve noticed. so busy you ignored all my calls n’ texts - missed our dinner the other night too. you’ve been practically living at the station lately.”

he grimaced, one hand scrubbing over his stubbled jaw. he’d never been any good with words, with making excuses. especially when faced with eyes that seemed to see right through his every defense, “you’re right. i’ve been avoiding you. but not because of anything you did. i jus’ . . needed some space to clear my head.”

your arms tightened, gaze dropping to the oil-stained pavement. “i thought we were having fun,” you said quietly. “gettin’ to know each other. but if i misread things, if i made you uncomfortable in any way i really am so sorr . . .”

“no.” he interrupted fiercely, taking an involuntary step closer. close enough to smell the light, citrusy scent of you, to see the faint mascara smudges of sleeplessness under your eyes. “you didn't misread anything, yn. these past weeks, spendin’ time with you . . . s’ been amazing. the most fun i’ve had in years, if i’m being honest.”

confusion clouded your expression. “then why?”

“because m’ a goddamn mess,” he bit out, the truth clawing its way up his throat. “because you’re brilliant, and you’re goin’ places . . n’ i wouldn’t be able to give you my time in the way that i know you more than deserve. i wanna smell muffins in the mornin’ . . not the smell of musty men and water hoses.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before sitting his stuff on the hood of his car, “i jus’,” he started, “i’ve done the dating thing, alright? the marriage thing too, y’know that. i jus’ . . i cant afford to lose another person in my life that i care about — not when i’ve come this far to prevent it n’ when they’re as sweet and pretty, and as kind as you.” you stand in silence, letting him vent, “i’m not perfect. m’ terrible at cooking, i sing in the shower, n’ on top of all that i fuckin’ snore like a grizzly bear. ya’ still want me now?”

you took a step forward, hand coming up to fist in the front of his t-shirt. he inhaled sharply at the sudden press of your soft curves against his hard planes, the way your gaze dropped to his mouth.

“yeah, you grumpy old fuck . . i still want you,” you whispered fiercely. “mess, snores and all.”

he softened as you pressed a kiss onto his cheek, gentle and warm with truce, “i have my own damn baggage. y’think thats stoppin’ me from goin’ after what i want? no. so jus’ stop bein’ such an asshole n’ kiss me alread - mmph!” — that was it. that was the straw that’d broken the camel’s back. with a muttered curse, his control had finally snapped. he hauled you flush against him, one arm banding around your waist as the other hand sank into your hair, cradling the back of your head. you made a soft, needy sound and surged up on tiptoe, sealing your mouth to his.

the first touch of your lips was electric, a livewire straight to his core. they were exactly as soft and sweet as he'd imagined, moving over his with an urgency that matched his own. he angled his head to slant his mouth more firmly over your, licking at the seam of your lips as you licked on the scar on his.

he swept his tongue into your mouth, stroking over yours, swallowing the low moan that vibrated in her throat. you tasted like peppermint and the vaguest hint of sugar, an addictive flavor he already knew he'd never get enough of. your arms twined around his neck, blunt nails scraping deliciously at his nape as you pressed impossibly closer.

dimly, he registered the whoops and catcalls of a passing group of neighbors, but he couldn't bring himself to care. let em’ gawk. the whole damn neighborhood could come out to watch and he still wouldn't be able to tear himself away from your sweetness.

he was a man possessed.

the kiss deepened, turning hot and hungry. toji backed you up against his front door, hands roaming greedily over your curves as he pressed the hard length of his body into your soft warmth. you made yet another sound into his mouth, lifting one leg to wrap around his hip, opening yourself up to him.

he tore his lips from yours only to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, tasting the salt on your skin from the sweat of the hot summer sun. “fuck . . i want you,” he growled against your pulse point. “wanna’ touch you, taste you, feel you. if you’ll let me . . of course.”

“wow, such a gentlemen,” you gasped, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. “please fuckin’ do, toji.” patience fraying, he fumbled for his keys and somehow managed to get the door open without releasing you. you stumbled over the threshold, shedding clothes haphazardly between searing kisses - your flimsy blouse fluttering to the floor, followed by smoke stained his t-shirt.

toji walked you backwards down the hall to his bedroom, kicking the door shut before tossing you onto the bed. he followed you down, covering your entire frame with his own, reveling in the feel of all your bare skin finally against him. you were a vision in the spill of afternoon light, curls fanned across his pillow, pink lace bra and panties a tantalizing contrast to your brown skin.

he took a moment just to admire you, committing every detail to memory. the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted on shallow breaths. heavy-lidded eyes hazy with want and something deeper, more tender.

“been dreamin’ about you, princess. shit - you’re so gorgeous.” he rasped, nipping at your earlobe with each word, “so pretty, so beautiful, so smart.”

you shivered, fingernails raking over his shoulders, “nngh - c’mon stoppit, toji . .” growling low in his throat, he captured your lips in a nasty kiss, all teeth and tongue. large hands cupping your full titties, calloused thumbs rubbing your nipples into stiff peaks. and you arched into his touch with a moan, shameless in your pleasure.

“someone’s eager, hm?”

breaking the kiss, he began to work his way down your body, mapping every dip and curve with lips and teeth and tongue. he paid thorough attention to your titties, laving at the dark-brown nipples until you were panting and squirming beneath him.

“b-baby, please . .” you whimpered, fingers sinking into his hair to urge him lower.

he only chuckled darkly against your flesh. “patience, sweetheart. m’ not goin’ anywhere. let me love you.”

true to his word, he set about exploring you - kissing a meandering path down your ribs and belly, dipping his tongue into your navel just to hear you gasp. strong hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further and further apart so he could settle more comfortably between them.

hooking his fingers in your lacy panties, he dragged the scrap of fabric down your legs. “fuck yeah, look at you. so wet for me already. look at this pussy . .”

you mewled as he licked a broad stripe up your slit, circling your puffy clit with the tip of his tongue. he sealed his lips around the sensitive nub and sucked, fingers delving into your soaked entrance, curling to find that special spot inside you.

“o-ooh my god — yes!” your back bowed off the bed, a vibration spreading down your chest as he worked you higher. he paid close attention to your most tender skin, alternating between broad, flat licks and quick, targeted flicks. crooking his fingers just so, he rubbed and rubbed until he found — “ah f-fuck!” your g-spot, feeling your thighs start to tremble around his head.

“thas’ it, bunny - cum on my tongue. i wanna’ see it all, mama. c’mon, i know you can do it,” the filthy words combined with the relentless stimulation quite literally pushed you over the edge . . and you came with a sharp cry, gushing your juices all over his lips and chin. he groaned at the taste of you, lapping up every last drop, addicted already.

while you were still quivering and coming down from your high, toji fumbled blindly for the nightstand drawer. he managed to retrieve a condom without taking his eyes off of you. ripping open the packet with his teeth, he sat back on his knees to quickly sheath himself.

you took the opportunity to admire his body, running appreciative hands over his muscular chest and abdomen. he was all tanned skin and chiseled muscle, a sparse trail of dark hair pointing the way to his impressive erection. it jutted from a thatch of coarse curls, thick and flushed nearly purple, the bulbous head glistening with excitement.

wrapping your fingers around his rigid length, you stroked him base to tip, twisting your wrist on the upstroke so that the condom slips right back off. toji grunted, hips bucking into your touch as you rubbed your thumb over the leaking slit. you pause, your mouth watering as you begin to lower your head down. you press the side of your face against his thigh, peering up at him with batting lashes and a poked lip. your ass is arched - high in the air and wiggling as if you just wanted him to smack it.

that’s when you began slapping his heavy dick against your cheek, repeatedly, “so big, baby,” you whisper, now positioning your face to where his cock could sit right on top of it - “can i put it in m’mouth? please . .?”

“yn you don’t have to -”

“i want to.”

toji looked down at you once more, the look of want in your eyes . . . how could he resist?

he gently grabs the side of your neck, firm but not firm enough to cause pain, his other hand curling around the base of his cock as he whispered, “open wide. tongue out,” biting his lip as he braces himself for the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him.

that’s when your wet tongue dances out tentatively, tracing the ridge of his head before retreating back to safety inside your mouth. it was clear that you were just as lust filled as him. toji could feel himself pulsing with need as you took him in deeper and deeper, a low groan escaping him, “shit, doll - got it all to fit . . good girl.” your hands gripped his hips tightly, nails digging into his skin as you bobbed your head up and down. toji swore he could fall in love with the simple, yet beautifully disgusting sound of your throat — gawk, gulp, gawk! ugh, they were such disgusting noises - some gagging here, some moaning there, but he couldn’t have asked for anything better. you were slobbing, spitting, and choking on his dick and the only thing getting in your way from taking him whole was the fact that his size was still fairly new to you.

“sss’ ooh fuck - b-baby . . yn -” he hisses, both your eyes and his rolling to the back of your heads as you continue to gulp him down, spit trickling down to your tits as they jiggled to the rhythm of your mouth. each and every glide against your tongue was starting to overpower him, and before he knew it, if you didn’t stop he was bout’ to —

“cum . . m’gonna cum! m’fuckin’ cumming - asshhit . .” he groaned, eyes tightly closing as you continued to deepthroat him the best you could, “don’t stop, keep suck - y-yes . .” it was a hassle - a big one, but the taste of him warm cum painting your throat felt like a sweet reward.

almost sweeter than your baked goods.

whining and still aching to suck on him some more, toji pulls you off in fear of shaking more than he already was — and the sight of you with his cum dripping out of your mouth only did the complete opposite.

“uh, well then . . how’d i do?” you say shyly, as if you hadn’t just completely slutted out your mouth for your next door neighbor.

a surprised bark of laughter escaped him even as his cock jerked at you eagerly. “don’t exile me, but that mouth . . shit, might be better than your cookies. not gonna’ lie, sweetheart . .” toji growled, and you pout as he’s prowling back over you. you then watch him slowly, his fingers unexpectedly plunging back into your pussy as he scoops some of your wetness onto the pad of them before pulling them back out. he fists the base and tip of himself, smothering his cock in your juices as lubricant as he teases your entrance with a few pats n’ nudges. fuckin’ tease. he kept on until you were angrily swatting his chest to put the damn thing in already.

who could blame your lust? after all . . you’d been dreaming about it for weeks now.

yet again, he snags another rubber, strokes a little, and once he’s in, “oh s-shit that pussy's tight, baby . .” he’s in. you moaned in tandem, dick snuggling into your tight walls inch by excruciating inch. you were warm and wet and perfect around him, gripping him like a silken vise. it was magical, just like you - but the look on your face . . oh that look, almost seemed like you wanted to be broken. with your arms above your head, your titties swaying against your chest and your whines now hoarse n' pleading — he kinda wanted to break you too.

toji started with slow, deep strokes, mindful of your tightness and his considerable girth. he didn't want to hurt you, wanted to savor every clench and flutter around his aching cock. wanted this to last, to burn this moment into his brain forever.

“f-feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me,” he gritted out, hips rolling in a lazy figure eight that had you keening. “y’so wet, honey . . dick feel that good?”

“toji,” you whimpered brokenly, fingernails scoring down his flexing back. “more, please . . need it harder . .”

and how could he deny you anything when you begged so sweetly? bracing his weight on his forearms, he obliged, snapping his hips forward with more force. the headboard started to thump against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your writhing bodies.

“like that, baby? hm?” he panted against your throat, sweat beading at his temples as he drove into you again and again, his cock damn near slipping out of you from the slippery speed. “this what you need? me splittin' this pretty pussy open?”

“yes d-daddy . . ” you wailed, back arching like a drawn bow. your cunt was fluttering around him, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. “aah - don't stop, don’t stop, m'so close!”

“shh, i got you,” he promised, shifting the angle of his hips to grind against your clit with every thrust. “gonna’ make this pussy sing for me, gonna’ wring the cum outta’ you 'til you're shakin' on me. you want that?” his filthy words seemed to be your undoing because suddenly you were clenching down on him like a vice, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you thrashed beneath him. your release gushed hot and slick around his pistoning length, drenching his groin and thighs with sweetness.

“f-fuck yeah,” toji choked out, his own rhythm faltering as your rippling walls threatened to milk him dry. “good girl, sweetheart, cream on this dick, lemme’ feel you.” he managed a handful more erratic thrusts before his own orgasm crashed into him like a freight train. he buried himself to the hilt and stilled, a hoarse shout muffled into your sweat damped shoulder as he spilled himself into the condom. his cock jerked and twitched with every pulse, vision nearly whiting out with the force of it.

for long moments, you both just shook and gasped, clinging to each other as aftershocks rolled through your bodies. toji's heart was thundering so hard he was sure you could feel it through his sweat-slick chest. he'd never come so hard in his life, never felt so utterly shattered and remade.

you made a soft, satisfied sound as he carefully withdrew from your heat, rolling to the side to dispose of the condom with a quick knot. then he was gathering you close again, palm smoothing up your spine as you burrowed into him with a sigh.

“shit,” you eventually mumbled into the heated skin of his throat. “that was . . .”

“ . . fuckin' heavenly,” he finished roughly, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he felt your answering huff of amusement. “m’ sorry i uh . . came so fast. i don’t usually -”

“did you just apologize to me because my pussy is good?” you teased, dragging your nose along the edge of his stubbled jaw. he could feel the curve of your smile, the unabashed joy, and it settled something deep within him. soothed the ragged pieces he'd thought long broken.

“damn straight,” he agreed, arms tightening around you possessively. “i can die a happy man now.”

“well, you're not allowed to die on me now, toji. you're stuck with me. escape if you can.”

“mm, is that right,” he nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of you - all warm woman and satisfaction.

“mhmm. you're not getting rid of me easily. i still have so many desserts to force on you, so many early morning baking sessions to drag you into . .”

he laughed outright at that, at the sheer exuberance in your voice. “promises, promises.”

“oh i always keep my promises, mister. which reminds me . .” you pushed up on an elbow, eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper. something that snatched the breath from his lungs. “i seem to remember you saying something about round two . .”

“did i? care to refresh my memory?” he growled, even as he was already rolling you beneath him again, mouth seeking yours. you then feel his palm colliding with your ass in a gentle spank. “what am i gonna’ do with you?”

“everything.” you breathed against his lips, a vow. “anything. i want you, toji. want everything with you.” and fuck, what could he say to that? what could he do but kiss you like a promise, a prayer, and proceed to show you just how much he wanted that too? wanted to give you everything, anything, all he had to offer?

he'd never been a man of many words. but this - loving you with hands and mouth and body, breaking you apart and putting you back together again and again until you were both sweat-soaked and shaking . . this he could do. this he would do for the rest of his life if you'd let him.

“you’ve got me.”

and from the joyous half-sob of his name as he sank back into your pussy, the way your body opened for him like a flower to the sun, he had a feeling you just might too.

there would be time for more words later - time for confessions and plans and mapping out a future he'd never even let himself dream of before. time to make good on promises whispered into heated skin, to build something real and lasting brick by brick. but for now, in the honeyed afternoon light with your legs wrapped around his waist and your heart in his hands . . let himself get lost. let himself drown in sensation and emotion, in this miraculous woman he didn't deserve but who'd chosen him anyway.

from lost to found, in the space of a heartbeat. and all because an angel in a garden had smiled at him across a sunny street and offered up a little piece of heaven. he'd never know what he'd done to deserve you, or this second chance. but he'd spend the rest of his days earning this gift, cherishing it.

cherishing you.

that was a promise. and like his beautiful girl . . toji fushiguro always kept his promises.

©️ SATORUBI - please do not copy, translate, or modify my work without my approval ! thank you for playing . . the challenge has only just begun.

#🎀 — www.satorubiwrites/games !#AHHHHH WE HERE #papa toji i luv him #toji x fem! reader #toji x female reader #toji x black reader #toji x black y/n #toji smut #jjk x fem! reader #jjk x poc!reader

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chosok-amo · 17 days

Text

JEALOUS, JEALOUS, JEALOUS

RYOMEN SUKUNA . . . your boyfriend got jealous because some underclassmen were helping you carry your bag.

warning. collage boyfriend! ryomen sukuna, cūnnilingus, mat-pressing, squirting, pet-names, established relationship, cum-play, biting, fingering.

wc. 11,3k

you walk towards the big tree near the field where your best friends and boyfriend, ryomen sukuna, are hanging out with your friends— toji, gojo, geto and choso. as you approach, their heads turn towards you, smiling brightly. It's not just you who catches their attention but also the two freshmen boys trailing behind you, each holding a bunch of paper bags.

“hey boys,” you call out in your honeyed voice as you arrive. “i brought something for you,” you announce, nodding to the two freshmen who quickly place the paper bags down on the grass. the bags are filled with snacks, drinks, and small gifts.

“thank you for being so kind to me,“ you say, turning to the freshmen and gently cupping their cheeks for a moment. they both turn crimson, clearly flustered and melting under your touch.

your boyfriend, ryomen sukuna, watches the scene with a mix of amusement and mild jealousy, smirking as he sees the two boys blushing and trying to keep their composure.

“you can go now,” you say, your tone soft yet commanding. like obedient puppies, they nod and quickly make their exit, casting one last longing glance at you before scurrying away.

as soon as the two boys scurried away, sukuna wasted no time in pulling you onto his lap, a possessive glint in his eyes. his strong arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer so that you're practically sitting on him. the others snicker, clearly amused by his display of possessiveness.

“and what's with the two boys, princess? the bag is too heavy you're afraid you're gonna break a nail?” toji makes fun of you. you roll your eyes playfully, a coy smile on your lips. “jealous, toji? need me to carry your bags for you too?” you tease. the others chuckle at your quick response. toji just rolled his eyes.

while toji teases you, sukuna tightens his grip around your waist possessively, his jealousy still very much present. he doesn't like seeing other boys looking at you like that, especially as if you're some eye candy. but he knows you belong to him, and he's going to make sure everyone else knows it too.

he grumbles under his breath about how the freshmen boys should've known better than to look at what's his, and how he's going to teach them a lesson if they ever thought about you again.

“well, there were quite a lot of snacks and drinks in there,” you reply, playfully defending yourself. “and besides, it's not like those boys were complaining when they were carrying the bags, were they?” you added , still trying to justify your actions. toji raises his hands in mock surrender, “hey, i'm just asking a question, sweetheart.”

as toji raises his hands in fake surrender, sukuna rolls his eyes at your attempt to justify your actions. he knows you're right—the boys weren't complaining about carrying the bags, but that's not the point.

he huffs, pulling you even closer to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you like a vice grip. “yeah, yeah,” he says, irritation clear in his voice, “but they were eating you up with their eyes.”

“oh, shut up, you big baby,” you scoff, shaking your head with a smile. your fingers softly pinching sukuna's arm. “they offered to carry it for me, and they seemed eager to do it, so why not?” gojo grins, joining in on the teasing. “yeah, the princess can't handle carrying a few bags by herself. she needs her loyal subjects to do it for her!”

sukuna grumbles further, his irritation growing as gojo joins in on the teasing. he scowls, shooting a glare at gojo before wrapping his arms even tighter around you, as if trying to shield you from their mockery.

“she doesn't need anyone,” he mutters under his breath. “and she certainly doesn't need some simpering freshman boys drooling all over her.”

toji barks out a laugh. “yeah, suku, why not just put a leash on her so no one else can touch her?”

“hey, i'm not a dog,” you roll your eyes, playfully swatting at toji's arm as his words. “besides, it is easier for you to say, you're not the one who's carrying the bag, did you know how heavy it is? i can't do it by myself,” you added. you adjust your position to wrap your arms around sukuna's neck before speaking, “and besides, no girl should carry a heavy bag all by herself, don't you think baby?” you finished your words by looking at sukuna.

sukuna's irritation begins to soften as you wrap your arms around his neck and address him directly. he can't help but soften at your touch, and your question makes him huff out a sigh.

“yeah, yeah, i know,” he mutters, his arms still wrapped tight around your waist. he can't help but secretly like having you on his lap like this, like you belong to him. “i just don't like seeing other guys drooling all over you,” he grumbles, his jealousy still bubbling beneath the surface.

choso rolls his eyes, a cloud of smoke covering his face for a second before he adds, “oh, please y/n, you're just spoiled little princess, even those bag as heavy as the feather you still want people to carry it for you.”

sukuna chuckle, “she's a gentle soul, wouldn't want to trouble her delicate hands,” he replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. toji merely snorts and rolls his eyes. “right,” he mutters, clearly not buying into sukuna's bullshit.

you pout, feigning indignation at choso's comment about you being a spoiled princess. “hey, i am NOT spoiled!” you protest, giving him a playful glare. “i just know how to appreciate good service when i see it.”

sukuna chuckles again, his hand idly tracing circles on your stomach, enjoying the feel of you being so close to him. toji rolls his eyes once more, a weary expression on his face.

“uh-huh... sure. keep telling yourself that, princess.”

sukuna grins at that, enjoying the banter between you and his friends. he can't help but savor the fact that they can all see how possessively he's clinging to you, how you're sitting on his lap like you belong there.

he tightens his grip on your waist even more, his hand resting on your hip as if to further claim his ownership of you. “yeah, she's spoiled all right," he mutters, "spoiled rotten.”

toji's eyes glint mischievously under his sunglasses as he glances at the two freshmen boys in the distance. they're standing a good distance away, whispering to each other and throwing furtive glances in your direction, their faces still flushed.

“they're still staring at you, princess,” toji comments with a smirk. sukuna glances in the direction of the two freshmen boys, his gaze hardening slightly as he notes their lingering gaze on you. his arm around you tightens possessively, a subtle warning to them.

“yeah, they look like desperate puppies waiting for scrap,” he sneers, his words dripping with disdain. choso and the others snicker, enjoying the show. “keep staring, i might break someone's neck today,” sukuna rumbled under his breath but loud enough for you and the rest to hear.

you roll your eyes at sukuna's protective and possessive attitude, but secretly you find it endearing. you're used to his jealous streak by now, but you can't help but enjoy the fact that he's so territorial about you.

you turn to toji, a playful grin on your face. “oh, come on toji,” you say, waving your hand in dismissal. “they're harmless. just a couple of boys with a crush, it's not a big deal.”

but you can't help but blush slightly at sukuna's possessive and slightly threatening tone, his hand gently tracing your waist as if to emphasize his claim over you. geto chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. choso rolls his eyes, clearly amused. satoru chimes in, “woah there, tiger. no need to go all alpha male on them.”

“relax, sukuna,” toji retorts, a smirk plastered across his face. “besides, it's not like the princess needs to do any heavy lifting anyways. not with all those boys practically tripping over themselves to do her bidding.”

“they're just some underclassmen from my class,” you explain with a shrug, “they offered to carry the bags for me on my way here.”

“oh? and you couldn't say no to them?” sukuna teases, his arms tightening around your waist possessively. you give sukuna a playful swat on the arm, rolling your eyes at his teasing. “oh, shut up," you say, trying to sound annoyed but failing to hide the smile on your face.

satoru grins, clearly enjoying the banter between you two. “yeah, suku, don't be a caveman. the princess is allowed to enjoy a little male attention, isn't she?”

sukuna's expression darkens as satoru teases him, his hand still possessively gripping your waist. he grumbles under his breath. “not from them, she isn't.”

you click your tongue as you turn to your boyfriend, “i just got my nails done? and besides carrying those bags alone from the parking lot and looking for you guys is a lot of work, don't wanna hurt my hands,” you pout while showing your boyfriend your new nails.

sukuna huffs out an amused chuckle, his gaze shifting to your painted fingernails. “ah, of course,” he feigns a dramatic tone. “can't have the princess straining her delicate fingers, can we?” he takes your hand in his, gently inspecting your newly painted nails with a smirk.

“they do look pretty,“ he concedes. “you're such a princess,” he teases, a smile tugging at his lips. “always worried about your pretty hands. but i wouldn't mind if you had asked me to carry those bags for you. you know, like a good boyfriend would.”

you give sukuna a cheeky grin, pretending to be offended by his comment. “are you calling yourself a bad boyfriend, then?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

toji rolls his eyes, scoffing under his breath. “jeez, you two are disgustingly cute together. get a room already.” choso lets out a low chuckle, and geto shakes his head. gojo grins, clearly amused by the whole situation.

sukuna's smirk widens as he looks at toji, his gaze dripping with arrogance. “jealous? can't handle seeing a display of affection between two people in love?” he retorts sarcastically. toji just snorts in response, seemingly not bothered.

“yeah, right. love. more like possessiveness. besides, i can't handle her, too delicate and too high-maintenance.”

“hey! I'm not high maintenance, it's hard getting an appointment for this nail salon, you know,” you are protesting, still pouting, “i mean you wouldn't know since you don't have a girlfriend, but okay,” you shrug your shoulder. toji feigns an offended gasp, clutching his chest in mock hurt.

“don't worry, princess,” sukuna says, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “i don't mind indulging your 'high-maintenance' habits. i'm the only one who gets to pamper you, after all.”

toji rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. “yeah, yeah, suku. whatever helps you sleep at night.”

gojo snickers, clearly enjoying toji's sarcastic comments. “oh, come on, toji. don't act like you're not secretly jealous watching them being all lovey-dovey.”

geto shakes his head, grinning at the whole exchange. “oh, leave him alone. he's just bitter because no one ever offers to carry his bags for him.” you just chuckle before standing up from sukuna's lap. “come on baby, let's get away from these losers,” you tell your boyfriend without giving a second glance at your friends.

sukuna doesn't hesitate, quickly getting to his feet and wrapping an arm around your waist possessively, pulling you close to him. he grins at your group of friends, a smug look on his face.

“you heard her," he says, his voice dripping with pride. "we're off to spend some quality time alone. try not to miss us too much, losers.” the others just scoff in response, some rolling their eyes, others shaking their heads in mock disappointment.

as you and sukuna make your way away from the group, you can hear their jeers and comments.

“yeah, sure. 'quality time.' as if that's not code for making out and being all gross and mushy together,” toji mutters.

“aww, they're gonna miss us so much,” satoru pipes up, feigning sadness. choso just grunts, while geto chimes in with a smirk. “yeah, right. i doubt we'll even notice their absence.”

as you and sukuna begin to walk away from your friends, his grip on your waist remains firm, his strides confident and possessive. he leads you away from the group, towards a parking spot . once you're out of earshot, he turns to you with a sly smile.

“so, tell me brat,” he says, his voice low and taunting. “enjoying all that attention from those underclassmen, were you?” you roll your eyes, but can't help but smile up at him. you know exactly what he's referring to, and you also know that this is his way of being possessive and protective of you.

“oh, please,” you say, feigning nonchalance, “they were just being polite, that's all.” sukuna let out a scoff, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “yeah, right. like they were just being ‘polite’ by offering to carry your bags and drooling all over you like puppies. they were practically ogling you.”

he pulls you closer to his side, his arm still wrapped possessively around you. he glances over at you, his gaze drifting to your newly done nails.

“but i have to admit, those nails do look pretty cute,” he says, raising your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “but next time, let me carry the bags for you. i don't like the way those dumb underclassmen were looking at you.”

you can't help but blush a little at his unexpected compliment. even though you know he's being possessive, there's something endearing about him liking your nails. you give him a small smile, playing along with his possessiveness, “thank you and don't worry, baby. i'll make sure to ask you next time. i wouldn't want your delicate ego getting bruised.”

he scoffs, a hint of amusement in his expression. “oh, don't worry about my ego, princess. i can handle a few smitten underclassmen staring after you. but it's my job to make sure they know their place.” he stops walking, suddenly turning to face you. he presses you against the side of his car, pinning you between the cool metal and his toned body. he leans in close, his eyes darkening with desire.

you feel a shiver run down your spine as sukuna pins you against his car. he's so close to you that you can feel his body heat radiating off of him, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. “yeah?” you murmur, trying to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies in your stomach. “and how do you plan on doing that, tough guy?”

he leans even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear. his breath is hot against your skin as he speaks, his voice low and gruff. “oh, i have a few ideas, princess,” he purrs, his hand tracing a path down your side to rest on your hip.

he pulls you even closer to him, pinning you even tighter against the car. he cups your chin with his other hand, tilting your head back so that you're looking up at him. he gazes down at you, his eyes dark and full of desire.

you're smiling ear to ear, wrapping your arms happily around his neck as you look up to him. “like what?” you ask, voice low and sultry. he chuckles, the sound low and smooth. he gazes down at you with a predatory gleam in his eyes, “oh, princess, if i told you all of my ideas, i'd be here all night.”

his hand on your hip slides lower, slowly tracing the contour of your body until it rests on the curve of your ass. he gives you a slight squeeze, his fingers digging into your flesh.

his other hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. he leans in closer, his lips mere inches from yours. he glances down at your mouth, his eyes filled with desire. “but trust me, i have all sorts of ways of making sure those stupid underclassmen know you're mine,” he whispers, his voice dripping with possessiveness.

you tear a low, softly hum the moment his thumb makes contact with your bottom lips, “i think everyone on campus already knows that, don't you think?” he smirks, enjoying the sound of your hum. he runs his thumb lightly over your bottom lip again, tracing the curve of your mouth.

“oh, i know they do,” he replies, his voice low and smooth like honey. “but it never hurts to have a little reminder every now and then, doesn't it?” he leans in closer, his eyes locked on your mouth. he's so close now that you can feel his warm breath against your skin.

“yeah?” you mumble, eyes never leaving his red irises. your fingers trace a gentle path on his undercut. sukuna's eyelids flutter shut as your fingers trace over his undercut, a low rumble escaping his chest at your touch. he practically melts under your touch, his body tensing and then relaxing at your caress.

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and gruff. “i want everyone to know you're mine. no one else gets to touch you, look at you, hell, even breathe the same air as you.”

you chuckle, shaking your head ever so, “you're so jealous. but that's a bit selfish, don't you think, baby?”

sukuna leans in even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear. “hmmm, maybe i am. but you don't mind, do you, princess?” he brushes his nose against your neck, inhaling your scent. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose against the sensitive skin. he peppers light kisses along your jawline, his mouth skimming over your pulse point.

you shiver slightly at his touch, a smirk tugging at your lips. “who am i to be mind by my boyfriend's jealousy?” you murmur, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. your hand reaches up to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer as you whisper, “i like it when you get possessive.“

sukuna smirks against your skin, his kisses growing more intense as he hears your words. he lets out a low hum, reveling in the fact that you enjoy his jealousy.

he presses his body against yours, pinning you more firmly against the car. his hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. “good,” he growls, his lips trailing up your neck towards your ear. “because i love getting possessive over you. you're mine and mine alone, princess.”

you let out a breathy laugh, feeling the heat of his words and the intensity of his touch. “maybe we should take this home,” you whisper back, your voice teasing yet full of desire. you lean into him, brushing your lips against his ear before continuing, “unless you want to risk someone seeing just how possessive you can get.” your hands slide up his chest, urging him to move, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

sukuna's lips curve into a devilish smile at your words. he knows exactly what you're getting at, and the thought of getting caught in the act only adds to the thrill.

he chuckles, his eyes darkening with desire. “oh, princess, you know me too well,” he purrs, his voice low and smooth, “but i wouldn't mind giving some nosy strangers a show.” he doesn't hesitate, quickly scooping you up in his arms and carrying you to the passenger door.

he opens the door and gently sets you down on the leather seat, his eyes never leaving yours. a wicked smirk plays at his lips as he climbs in after you, shutting the door behind him.

he buckles you in, his hands lingering on the seatbelt for a moment longer than necessary. he takes a moment to appreciate the way your body looks in the dim light, biting his lip at the sight.

“you look so good, all strapped in and waiting for me,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire. “let's go home, princess. i have some unfinished business with you, and i need some privacy for it,” sukuna mumbled. you chuckle, letting your hand hang in the air for a second to touch his cheek and giving his lips a peck.

sukuna let a low hum escaping his lips. he leans into your touch, his body responding instantly to your affection. he doesn't hesitate to start the car, the engine roaring to life as he peels out of the parking lot. his eyes stay focused on the road, but his hand finds its way to your thigh, his fingers tracing light circles on your skin.

he's silent for a moment, his thoughts consumed by the events of the day and the thought of being alone with you. as he drives, his grip on your thigh tightens slightly, his fingers digging into your flesh. he's impatient and eager to get you alone, and the longer the drive goes on, the more tense he becomes.

but he says nothing, his jaw clenching slightly as he focuses on the road. the only sound that can be heard in the car is the low hum of the engine and his deep, steady breaths.

the door slams shut behind you both as sukuna presses you against it, his lips moving hungrily against yours. his hands slide down your back, gripping your waist as he lifts you effortlessly, deepening the kiss. your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer as your lips move in sync, the intensity between you two growing with each passing second.

he growls low in his throat, his impatience from the drive spilling over as he carries you to the bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights. the darkness only heightens your senses as he lays you down, hovering over you, his breath hot against your skin.

“you have no idea how long i've been waiting for this, princess,” he murmurs against your lips before capturing them in another passionate kiss, his hands exploring your body with possessive intent. sukuna's touch is both rough and gentle as he worships your body, his hands roaming over every inch of your skin. his lips move down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake.

he bites and sucks at the skin of your collarbone, leaving small marks that he knows will be there tomorrow. his hands caress your curves, his fingers tracing over the fabric of your clothes as if impatient to get to the skin beneath.

he pauses for a moment, his hands gripping the hem of your shirt. he tugs at it, looking up at you with darkened eyes. “princess, i need these clothes off. now.”

he's barely got the words out before he's already yanking your top over your head, discarding it to the floor without a second thought. his lips immediately return to your skin, his mouth trailing a path down your chest. you're gasping for air softly, looking down at him with your hands on his hair. “r-ryo..” you whisper his name.

sukuna freezes at the sound of his name on your lips, his eyes fluttering closed at the sound. he loves when you say his name like that, in that soft, breathless whisper. it makes his heart skip a beat, and his grip on you tightens slightly.

he looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense. “yeah, princess?” he murmurs, his lips hovering just above your skin. “don't stop,” you pleaded, fingers knead with his pink locks.

sukuna smirks against your skin, his lips curving into a devilish grin. he loves how desperate you sound, how much you want him. it's a huge ego boost, and it only makes him more determined to drive you wild.

“don't worry, princess. i'm not stopping anytime soon,” he assures you, his voice rough and gravelly. he continues his assault on your skin, his lips and tongue worshiping every inch of you.

he slowly peels your clothes off you, his fingers caressing your skin with every piece of fabric that's removed. his mouth follows his hands, his lips trailing over your body like a starved man.

he takes his time, taking in every inch of you until you're completely bare before him. he looks up at you, his eyes raking over your body with a possessive desire. “you're so damn beautiful, princess,” he murmurs approvingly, his hands roaming over your curves.

you put your hands around your chest— put a shield on your bare breast away from his sigh and a crushed cherry makes its way to your cheeks. you put yourself on your elbows before leaning closer, trying to hide your shyness by kiss him.

sukuna notices your shyness, and he smirks at the sight. he knows it's part your natural shy nature and part your subconscious reaction to his compliment. he doesn't call you out on it, though. instead, he accepts your kiss, his lips moving against yours with a possessive intensity. he cups your chin in his hand, holding you in place as he kisses you deeply.

he can feel your hands on your chest, trying to hide from him, and he tsks softly. he gently pulls your hands away, his eyes flashing with possessiveness. “no hiding, princess,” he growls lowly. “i want to see all of you. every inch.”

he gently pushes you back down onto the bed, his body covering yours. he pins you down, his hands roaming over your skin as he looks down at you with his intense, possessive gaze.

you tug at his jacket, silently telling him to also take his clothes off. making the man standing on his knees between your legs start to peel his clothes one by one without leaving your gaze, slowly revealing his muscular, cover with his signature tattoos to you. sukuna smirks down at you, his eyes never leaving yours as he begins to strip. he slowly peals off his jacket, tossing it aside before unbuttoning his shirt. he lets the fabric hang open for a moment, giving you a glimpse of his toned torso before pulling it off entirely.

his hands go to his belt next, unbuckling it with a quick flick of his wrist. he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers in one swift motion. he steps out of his clothing, his cock standing proud and hard, throbbing with need. he grins down at you, enjoying the look of hunger in your eyes as they drink in the sight of him.

“like what you see, princess?” he teases, his voice thick with lust.

you shift slightly, straighten your position and back to prop your burning-with-desire body to catch a better look of your boyfriend. unconsciously, you biting your nail, smiling as you look at him with hunger. “handsome,” you mumble, voice low.

sukuna preens under your gaze, his ego swelling at your little compliment. he loves the way you look at him, the way your eyes rake over his body with such hungry desire.

he smirks at you, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “thank you, brat. you're not so bad yourself,” he replies, his voice low and smooth. he looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every curve and dip.

a satisfied hum vibrates out of your lips before you are leaning towards him while he still standing with his knees between your legs. closing the gap between your starving lips and his skin. your lips wander— giving sukuna an open-mouthed kisses on his abs while your nails digging invisible hole on his muscular thighs.

sukuna groans low in his throat as your lips make contact with his skin, your warm mouth sending shivers through him. his hands instinctively reach down to tangle in your hair, holding you close as you pepper his abs with open-mouthed kisses.

he can feel the slight pinch of your nails digging into his thighs, and it only serves to heighten his arousal. he's rock hard, his cock twitching with anticipation as he watches you worship his body.

“fuck, princess... keep doing that and i might not last long enough to fuck you properly,“ he warns, his voice strained with desire. despite the threat, he doesn't pull you away, content to let you explore his body to your heart's content.

he looks down at you, watching as your lips and tongue leave a trail of wet kisses over his abs, your nails leaving little indents in his skin. he lets out a low, guttural groan, his body responding to your touch with each passing second.

“fuck, princess,” he mumbles, his voice strained. “you're driving me insane.” you chuckle faintly, finding his struggling amusing. “you are so responsive, ryo..” you mumble on his abs before biting the skin in tiny.

sukuna lets out a low growl at the feeling of your teeth on his skin, his body tensing in response. he's struggling to maintain control, his hands twitching at his sides as he fights the urge to grab you and flip you over.

"you have no idea how much you're affecting me right now, princess," he replies, his voice low and ragged. "i'm trying to be patient, but you're making it damn difficult."

he's practically vibrating with tension, his entire body coiled tightly like a spring ready to snap. he's determined to let you have your way with him, to let you explore and worship his body to your heart's content.

but it's taking all of his willpower not to give in to the overwhelming desire that's surging through his veins, the desire to take you, to make you his over and over again.

“so hot,” you whisper, eyes never leaving his burning red irises. your tongue sticks down to his abs, leaving a trail of your saliva on his skin. sukuna groans loudly at the sensation of your tongue on his skin, his cock throbbing in response. he bites his lip to stifle another moan, his hands tightening in your hair.

"fuck, princess... you're going to kill me," he mutters, his voice laced with both pleasure and frustration. he can barely stand it anymore, the feeling of your tongue tracing patterns on his skin is driving him absolutely mad.

he finally decides to take matters into his own hands (or rather, his mouth). he leans down, capturing your nipple between his teeth, biting down gently. a soft moan tears away from your throat while sukuna's hands pushing your body against the pillows, letting you slightly sitting. “oh, baby,” you whisper.

sukuna smirks at your soft moan, his eyes darkening with desire. he continues to tease your nipples with his teeth and tongue, alternating between gentle nibbles and rough sucks. he pulls back after a few moments, looking up at you with a wicked grin. “you like that, princess? you like when i bite you?” he asks, his voice dripping with lust.

he moves lower then, trailing kisses down your stomach until he reaches your hips. he nuzzles against you affectionately before spreading your legs wide apart, exposing your wet pussy to his hungry gaze.

“yes..” you answer, a soft groan leaving along with your gasp the moment cold air kissing your already dripping pussy. your gaze meet with sukuna's hooded eyes and his smirk.

sukuna chuckles darkly at your breathless yes, his eyes glinting with mischief. he loves seeing you like this - spread out beneath him, desperate and wanting.

he takes a moment to admire the view, his gaze raking over your glistening folds hungrily. “you're so fucking perfect, princess,” he murmurs appreciatively. “i could stare at this pretty pussy all day.”

he leans in closer, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. he inhales deeply, savoring your intoxicating scent. “and you smell so good too... i bet you taste even better.”

“please, ryo..” softly, you pleaded, begging for his mercy.

sukuna smirks at your pleading, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. he knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you beg for more. “what do you want, princess?” he taunts, his fingers tracing and teasing circles around your clit. “tell me how badly you need my tongue on this sweet little cunt of yours.”

he leans in, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. “beg me for it,” he commands, his voice low and husky with desire. “let me hear you plead for my attention like the needy little slut you are.”

you huff a soft gasp when sukuna slightly pull you towards him and lift your legs on his shoulders, wrapped his tattoos and muscular arms around your thigh to keep you close. “ryo..” you calling him between your gasp, “please, need you— miss you so much,” you pleading. you haven't seen him for a month, and when you finally do, you get him between your legs, ready to eat you out to oblivion.

sukuna groans at your desperate pleas, his cock throbbing in anticipation. he's been craving you just as much, dreaming about having you writhing beneath him once again. "I've missed you too, princess," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "i've thought about this tight little pussy every single day we were apart."

his other hand moves lower, sliding between your slick folds to tease at your entrance. “but you know what they say about absence making the heart grow fonder,” he continues, his tone dripping with seduction. “i think it's time we made up for lost time, don't you?”

he dives in then, his tongue delving deep into your soaked folds. he laps at you hungrily, savoring your addictive taste as he eats you out with wild abandon. his tongue swirls around your clit before sucking it between his lips, flicking the sensitive bud rapidly. “fuck, you taste even better than i remembered,” he growls against your core, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “i could feast on this pussy for hours...”

your soft moan drifting away along with your breath when you throw your head back the moment his tongue touches your clit. your finger desperately looking for support and found his hair, scratching his scalp with your long nails in the process.

sukuna moans deeply as your nails dig into his scalp, the mix of pain and pleasure only spurring him on further. he doubles his efforts, lapping at your clit with broad strokes of his tongue before sealing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and suckling greedily.

his fingers join the fray, two digits plunging knuckle-deep into your soaked channel as he pumps them in and out at a rapid pace. he curls them just right, hitting that special spot inside you that has your toes curling in ecstasy.

“that's it, princess,” he croons, his voice muffled against your core. “let me hear those pretty sounds. i want the whole neighborhood to know who this pussy belongs to.” he scissors his fingers, stretching you deliciously as he works you closer and closer to the edge.

his words alone are enough to send sparks shooting through your veins. the thought of him stretching you open, filling you completely, sends a rush of heat pooling in your belly.

“oh god..” you whimpering breathlessly. your hand still clutch tightly around his hair while the other grasping the blanket underneath you, “feel so g-good, baby..”

sukuna grins against your pussy, his pride swelling at your praise. he loves knowing he can reduce you to such a state of desperation with just his mouth and fingers. “you like that, princess?” he teases, pumping his fingers faster as he sucks harder on your clit. “you like feeling stuffed full, stretched open for me?”

he adds a third finger, scissoring them even wider inside you as he curls them to hit that magic spot over and over. his tongue lashes at your clit mercilessly, driving you higher and higher.

“so close, aren't you?” he purrs, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. “just let go, princess. come all over my face like the naughty girl you are.” your thigh shaking along with your breath the moment his finger keep poking your g-spot, making you crying for release. “o-oh—” you stammered, eyes tightly shut and your thigh unconsciously leaning towards each other, clamping down sukuna's head on the way.

sukuna hums in approval, loving the feel of your thighs clenching around his head. he keeps up his relentless assault on your clit, flicking it relentlessly with his tongue as he drives his fingers deeper into your quivering walls.

“that's it, princess,” he encourages, his voice vibrating against your pussy. “give it to me. show me how much you love my fingers fucing this tight little pussy.” he quickens his pace even more, pumping his fingers faster and curling them even deeper within you. the sound of your moaning fills the room, echoing off the walls and spurring him on.

with one final lick across your swollen clit, he pushes you over the edge. your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, ripping a scream from your throat as waves of pleasure wash over every inch of your being. the combination of sensations pushes you closer and closer to the brink, until finally, you tip over the edge.

with a loud cry, your back arches off the bed as your orgasm crashes over you. your inner walls clench around his pumping fingers as wave after wave of pleasure rocks through your body. “o-oh, god!” your high-pitched moan filling the room the moment you squirting on his face. tightly clenching his head between your thigh along with his fingers inside you.

sukuna groans in satisfaction as your juices flood his mouth, your thighs clamping down around his head like a vice. he doesn't let up though, continuing to lap at your pulsing walls and flick your clit as you ride out the intense waves of your climax. sukuna drinks in your sweet release eagerly, lapping up every drop of your juices as they coat his tongue. he doesn't stop until your orgasm subsides, until your trembling form is left limp and satisfied beneath him.

“that's it, come for me princess,” he coaxes, his fingers buried deep inside you as he helps work you through the aftershocks. “fuck, you taste so good when you squirt like that.” he slowly pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth to clean them off with relish. “i could watch you fall apart on my tongue all day,” he says with a wicked grin, licking his lips. “but i'm not done with you yet...“ he crawls up your trembling body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

you let out a satisfied sigh when his lips touching yours. in an instant your arms found its way to his neck, pulling him closer until there is no gap between you and him. “i almost forgot how your tongue feels, we should never be apart like that ever again,” you murmur softly on his lips. sukuna chuckles lowly, his hands roaming your curves possessively as he settles himself between your spread thighs. “oh, i fully intend to make sure you never forget again,” he promises darkly, grinding his rock hard erection against your sensitive core.

he claims your lips in another heated kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. you can taste yourself on him, a heady reminder of the pleasure he just brought you to. “i'm going to fuck you so hard, princess,” he growls against your lips, reaching down to line himself up with your entrance. “i'm going to fill this tight little cunt up until you're screaming my name.”

with one powerful thrust of his hips, he sheaths himself fully inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick length. he thrusts it inside you gently, reveling in the warmth and wetness that greets him. “i hope you're ready for more, baby, because i'm far from finished satisfying this insatiable appetite of mine...”

your body once again arch away from the bed towards sukuna. your warmth breath fanning across his ear with your nails scratching his back. a month away from your boyfriend and your pussy back to being unfamiliar with how big his cock are.

“f-fuck, since when you're became so big?” you mumble between your panting. sukuna lets out a low, pleased rumble as he continues to pump his hips, sinking deeper and deeper into your welcoming heat. “since I've been dreaming about this moment,” he confesses, nipping at your earlobe teasingly.

“ever since you left to your stupid vacation, i've been thinking about how good it would feel to be balls deep inside you again.” he punctuates his words with another hard thrust, his cock throbbing inside you. “and now that i am... fuck, princess... you're tighter than i remember.“

he starts moving with purposeful intent then, setting a punishing rhythm designed to drive both of you insane with pleasure. each stroke of his hips sends waves of bliss coursing through your bodies; each pull of his cock dragging moans from deep within your chest.

sukuna leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly. his hands grip your hips hard, holding you in place as he fucks you with wild abandon.

"you take my cock so well, princess," he rasps against your mouth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “so fucking perfect.” he breaks the kiss to gaze down at you, his red eyes blazing with lust and possession. “look at me,” he commands, his voice rough with desire. “watch me claim this pussy as mine.”

as you meet his intense stare, he reaches between your bodies to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge once more. “come for me again, princess,” he urges, his voice dripping with hunger. as sukuna picks up the pace, you can see the lust burning in his crimson eyes. they flicker dangerously as he watches you writhe beneath him, taking every inch of his massive dick with eagerness.

his hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements to meet his thrusts perfectly. with each stroke, he hits that sweet spot inside you, sending jolts of ecstasy racing up your spine. “oh, fuck me— ah!” you whimpering, your breath shattered each time sukuna thrust faster into you.

the sight of you writhing beneath him, your body slick with sweat and flush with arousal, fuels sukuna's lust even further. he grunts with satisfaction as he feels your walls clench around him, tightening deliciously with every thrust.

"fuck yes," he groans, slamming into you harder and faster. "take my cock, princess. milk it dry." his fingers find your clit again, rubbing it in tight circles that send sparks shooting through your veins. the sensation coupled with the relentless pounding of his cock has you teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

"you're gonna cum for me again," he pants, leaning down to nip at your collarbone. "and then I'm gonna fill you up until you can't walk straight." his words send shivers down your spine, igniting a fire in your veins. you arch into him, desperate for more of his delicious friction. your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“please, baby!” you beg, your voice breaking on a sob, “harder! faster!”

sukuna snarls with pleasure at your plea, his thrusts growing even more erratic as he loses control. He buries himself deep inside you, hitting that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. "oh, fuck..." he curses, feeling his climax building rapidly. "i'm close, princess. so fucking close."

he doubles his efforts, pistoning into you with reckless abandon. his fingers work your clit mercilessly while he drives himself to the hilt over and over again. with a final, guttural groan, he tips over the edge. "here it comes!" he warns before spilling his hot seed deep within your quivering depths. Your walls clench around him greedily, milking him for everything he's worth.

“oh. my. god. .” you groan low in pleasure. your hands holding tightly to his shoulders. he stays buried deep inside you, his still-hard cock still twitching occasionally as the last remnants of your shared climax ebb away.

after a moment, he lifts his body to sit between your legs to look at you, a lazy, satisfied smile spreading across his face. “always so beautiful,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead. "you took every inch of me like a champ, princess.”

slowly he pull his cock out of your pussy, watch your cum and his dripping out to the bed. sukuna gently shove his two finger to scoop your cum back inside your pussy. he smile in satisfaction, “don't want it go wasted,” he murmur. sukuna watches as you relax in post-orgasmic bliss, your limbs sprawled out haphazardly and your skin glistening with sweat. a sense of satisfaction fills him, knowing he was able to give you such pleasure.

"that's it, princess," he murmurs encouragingly, watching as your belly firms up after the release of all those endorphins. "just lay back and enjoy the ride. we've got all night..." he moves lower then, kissing and nibbling along your inner thigh before pressing a tender kiss to the spot where his cock had just been. his tongue laps up the remaining evidence of your combined orgasms, cleaning you thoroughly before moving back up to lavish attention on your needy nipples.

"you're quite the little slut, aren't you?" he teases, pinching and rolling one of your hard peaks between his fingers. you open your eyes and chuckle hearing the words rolling out of his tongue. “i'm your little slut,” you murmur on his lips as you sit up straight. “those loser underclassmen don't stand a chance, do they?” you ask, remind him of his little jealousy at the underclassmen before.

sukuna smirks wickedly, enjoying the way you tease him. "they don't," he confirms with a possessive growl. "no one else gets to touch what belongs to me." his hand slides down to squeeze your ass cheek firmly. "especially not my tight little pussy," he adds, giving it a playful slap.

to prove his point, he rolls his hips against yours suggestively, letting you feel the renewed hardness of his cock. “see? this is what you do to me, princess. no other woman could get me this worked up.” leaning forward, he captures your lips in another searing kiss. As he pulls back slightly, he trails kisses down your neck before whispering against your skin. "now let's get you nice and ready for round two, shall we?"

his hand slips between your thighs again, fingers delving into your slick folds to start preparing you for his next conquest. sukuna smile, “let's have you on my lap and see if you still can take me fully,” he murmur. without a warning he scoop you from the bed and sitting you on his lap, your legs cage him in between. you gasp from the sudden movement before giggling, having sukuna mirroring you. your arms again found its own to wrap around sukuna's neck.

sukuna chuckles darkly as he positions you on his lap, his hands gripping your hips securely. "let's see how well you can handle me now, shall we?" with a swift tug, he lines up his throbbing cock with your entrance, teasing you with the tip before slowly sinking you down onto his impressive length. inch by thick inch disappears inside you, stretching you deliciously as you envelop him completely.

"fuck, you feel amazing," he groans, relishing the way your velvety walls hug his shaft. "ride me, princess. take what you need."

his hands guide your movements as you begin to bounce on his lap, setting a steady rhythm that has you both panting with pleasure. the new angle allows him to hit even deeper, striking that magic spot inside you with every downward grind.

"that's it." the new angle makes his cook suffocating you, fill you up completely and have your eyes rolled back to your head for a second. “oh fuck, oh god!” you whisper as your breath hitched.

sukuna's eyes blaze with lust as he watches you struggle to breathe around his thick girth. "look at you, taking me so deep," he praises huskily, one hand coming up to cup your face. "such a good girl for me." the praise only serves to fuel his desire, and he begins to move beneath you with increased urgency. his hips snap upward to meet your downward strokes, driving his cock impossibly deeper with each powerful thrust.

"i'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he vows, nipping at your earlobe. "my cock will be the only thing you crave, the only thing that can satisfy you." as he speaks, his free hand slides between your bodies to rub at your clit, adding an extra layer of stimulation to the intense fucking. the dual sensations quickly push you toward another explosive climax.

your voice shaking as you hummed a protest the second he adds another pleasure with his hand. “o-oh,” your voice wavering while your forehead pressed against his neck. your fingers hug his wrist, a sign of your protest from the pleasure unconsciously.

sukuna feels your resistance but doesn't relent, continuing to stroke your sensitive clit in time with his relentless pounding. "shh, it's okay, princess," he coos, his breath hot against your ear. "just let go. I've got you."

emboldened by your submission, he increases the pressure on your clit, determined to bring you to the brink once more. his cock throbs inside you, signaling his own impending orgasm, but he focuses on pushing you first. "that's it, come for me," he urges, his voice a low rumble. "squeeze my dick with your tight cunt. show me how much you love being filled by me."

sukuna's words are your undoing, and with a keening cry, you shatter around him, your inner muscles clamping down on his pulsing cock like a vice. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. at the sensation of your pussy convulsing around him, sukuna's control snaps. with a hoarse roar, he slams up into you one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his own release floods through him. spurt after spurt of hot cum paints your insides, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

“yes! fuck yes!” he roars, slamming into you one last time after finding his own release. for long moments, you remain locked together, riding out the aftershocks of your shared climax. finally, fukuna gently eases you off his lap, allowing you to collapse against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

sukuna holds you close as you both catch your breath, his heart pounding against your back. he presses a tender kiss to your temple, savoring the feeling of your naked body pressed so intimately against his. sukuna's breathing is heavy and ragged as he holds you close, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, beating in perfect time with yours.

he nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to commit your scent to memory. his hands roam over your body, his touch gentle and possessive as he worships you with his touch.

"you're mine," he murmurs, his voice a low, possessive growl. "all mine, princess. don't ever forget that." as your breathing steadies, he shifts slightly, maneuvering you both to lie down on the bed. he gathers you close, draping an arm across your waist possessively as you rest your head against his chest— draping you with a cover along with him.

sukuna holds you close, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist as you curl up against his chest. he pulls the covers up around you both, enveloping you in a warm, cozy cocoon. he lets out a satisfied sigh, his eyes fluttering shut as he relaxes into the bed. he's still buzzing with the aftermath of your intense encounter, but he's blissfully content just holding you in his arms like this.

he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice a low murmur. "you okay, princess?" you lift your head from his chest, your eyes meeting his with a warm, affectionate gaze. a gentle smile curves your lips as you hum softly in response. “perfect,” you whisper, brushing a tender kiss against his chin.

sukuna's heart skips a beat at the feeling of your lips on his skin, and he can't help but smile in response to your answer. he loves seeing you like this, all soft and sleepy in his arms. he pulls you closer, if that's even possible, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back as he holds you. he's still running on adrenaline, but seeing you so content and relaxed is enough to start calming him down.

he brushes a kiss against your forehead, his voice gravelly and drowsy. "i love you," he murmurs, his words heavy with meaning.

you roll over to your stomach— prop your elbows for support, your smile softened as you look up at him. sukuna hide his hand behind underneath his head as he looks at your figure when resting your chin on your hands, you gaze into his eyes with affection. “i love you too,” you reply softly, your voice filled with warmth. you lean closer once again, gently pressing your lips against his lips.

sukuna's heart skips a beat again as you lean in to press a soft, sweet kiss against his lips. he can feel his whole body melting beneath your touch, his guard completely dropping as you express your love for him. he's still completely naked beneath the covers, but he doesn't care. he doesn't care about anything other than being close to you right now, feeling your soft skin against his and the sweet heat of your breath on his lips.

he lets out a soft sigh into the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your face gently. you pull away before chuckling. the sweet, sweet sound of your little laugh puts a smile on sukuna's face. his thumbs gently sweep across your soft skin on your arm. the two of you just drowning in comfortable silence for a moment, far away behind all the intensity and sensual that filling the room before.

sukuna watches you closely as you pull away, his gaze soft and affectionate. he can't help but smile at the sound of your sweet laugh, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the comfortable silence.

he's soaking in the moment, drinking in the sight of your face so close to his, the feeling of your body pressed against his. it's moments like these that mean the most to him, when the world fades away and it's just the two of you.

he lifts his hand, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. sukuna’s eyes shift from your face to your hands, a hint of concern crossing his features as he notices the broken nail. his voice softens, tinged with regret. “oh, baby, i must have broken your nail,” he murmurs, his gaze lingering on your hand.

he gently takes it on his own, examining now bare nail with a touch of amused. “i’m sorry about that,” he adds, his tone light, feeling everything except sorry for accidentally broking your extension nail. he noticed the extension of the nail near the pillow, picked it up and handed it to you— the nail that you've been waiting for a month for its appointment. “oh man,” you pout, your feature deepens with sadness, making the man chuckle.

sukuna's lips curl into a smirk at the sight of your pouting face, his eyes sparkling with amusement. he can't help but find it adorable when you pout, and it only makes him more fond of you. he watches as you take the broken nail extension from him, looking at it with a mixture of annoyance and sadness. he knows how much you've been looking forward to getting your nails done, but he can't help but find the situation a little bit funny.

he runs his hand through his hair, still chuckling softly.

you frown, hearing his chuckle, and your pout deepens. “baby, that’s not funny,” you protest, your voice carrying a hint of frustration mixed with your lingering sadness. you look up at him, trying to stay serious but finding it hard not to smile at his amused expression. “you really broke my nail,” you add, your tone balancing between exasperation and affection.

sukuna can't help but smirk at your protest, his amusement growing with every passing moment. he loves seeing you frustrated like this, even though he knows he should probably apologize. he shakes his head, his voice tinged with faux innocence. "i didn't mean to, brat. it was an accident," he replies, his tone playful.

he reaches out and gently brushes his finger over your lips, as if trying to soothe away your sadness. "don't pout like that," he murmurs. you look at him, still with your pouting lips and frowning in your forehead, “do you know how long i’ve been waiting for this? you know how hard it was to get this appointment and how much i paid?” you protest dramatically. groaning as you show him the broken nail.

sukuna stifles a chuckle at your dramatic groaning, knowing that he's definitely in trouble now. he looks at the broken nail in your hand, trying to look serious but failing miserably as a smirk keeps threatening to break through. he puts his hand on his chin as if contemplating, his tone teasing. "yeah, i know. you've been bitching about it for weeks," he replies, attempting to sound sincere.

he takes the broken nail from you, examining it with a faux look of concern. "i guess i got a little carried away in the moment," he adds, his voice dripping with fake apologeticess.

you smack his tattoos arm softly, “you are so annoying.”

sukuna lets out a low, amused chuckle at your soft smack on his arm, his smirk widening even further. he loves riling you up like this, seeing the way your cheeks flush with frustration and the adorable pout on your lips. he looks back down at the broken nail, his voice filled with mock sympathy. "well, i can't help it if i get a little passionate in the moment, princess. you know you bring out the best in me."

you can't help but smile at his words, “you better find me another appointment and you're going to be the one who's paying,” you scolded the man. sukuna raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. he can tell that you're trying to be serious, but he's not entirely convinced.

he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "oh, is that right? and what if i don't?" he teases, his voice low and sultry.

you shrugged your shoulders and took the nail from his hand, trying to act nonchalant. “i can ask satoru to pay for me, he wouldn't mind spoiling me since my boyfriend didn't want to,” you jokingly said, making the man rolls his eyes, knowing how he hates that gojo and geto always spoiled you with the fact that they are your childhood friends.

sukuna's eyes narrow at the mention of satoru's name, a possessive flicker flashing across his expression. he doesn't like the idea of you spending time with those two, especially not when they're always showering you with gifts and attention.

he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to him with a possessive grip. "oh, no, you don't," he growls, his voice edged with jealousy. "you're not going to him asking for anything. you're mine, and if you want your nail done, i'll do it myself."

you are laughing softly. “yeay,” you mumble before giving the man a peck. sukuna just groans and rolls his eyes but happily lets you kiss him. “you are a spoiled rotten, did you know that, brat?” he asked, voice dripping with affection as he lovingly caressed your head.

you can't help but laugh at his complaint, knowing full well that he loves pampering you just as much as you love being pampered. you lean into his touch, nuzzling into his hand as he caresses your head. "i know," you reply, a cheeky smile spreading across your face. "but you love me anyway, don't you?"

sukuna's expression softens, his irritation melting away in an instant. he can never stay mad at you for long, especially not when you're so damn adorable. he lets out an exaggerated sigh, pretending to sound exasperated, even though he secretly loves indulging your spoiled brattiness. "yeah," he replies, his voice filled with affectionate fondness.

he runs his fingers through your hair, gently caressing your head. "but i love indulging you, brat." you grin as you hear his response, knowing that he's secretly enjoying indulging your every whim. you love the way he tries to act all tough and dismissive, but he's always quick to give in to your requests. you lean into his hand, enjoying the feeling of his fingers running through your hair. you look up at him, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "you can't help but spoil me, can you?"

sukuna’s smirk widens as he hears your playful remark, his eyes gleaming with a mix of affection and amusement. he leans in slightly, his hand still gently brushing through your hair. “everyone around you always spoils you,” he says, his tone carrying a hint of mock seriousness.

“i can’t be the one who doesn’t give you everything you want. my pride couldn't take being a loser, especially for you,” his gaze softens, showing how much he values meeting your standards and keeping up with your expectations, even if it means letting his own pride take a backseat.

sukuna's words make your heart flutter in your chest, your smile growing wider at the hint of mockery in his tone. you know he's playing and enjoying every moment of this, but you can't help but be touched by his words. you reach up, gently twirling a strand of his hair around your finger as you look up at him. "aww, you're so sweet," you tease, unable to resist poking fun at his ego. "it's cute how much you care about not being a loser in my eyes."

sukuna chuckles at your playful jab, his eyes sparkling with mischief. he leans in closer, his hand moving from your hair to your cheek, gently caressing your skin with his thumb. "you little brat," he mutters, his tone affectionate despite the hint of scolding.

he loves this banter between the two of you, the way you can tease each other and still maintain the intense chemistry between you. he looks down at you, his voice turning slightly serious. "you know i'd do anything to keep you happy, right?"

“even if that means pampering me rotten?” you ask playfully, followed by scrunching your nose. sukuna lets out an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be annoyed. "even if that means pampering you rotten," he affirms, rolling his eyes teasingly. he knows there's no way he's ever going to say no to indulging you, but he likes to play the part of the reluctant boyfriend for comedic effect. he gently pinches your nose between his fingers, a cheeky smile on his face. "you're such a damn brat, you know that?"

you nod with a playful grin, clearly enjoying his teasing. “i know,” you reply, your voice is light and teasing. you lean in closer, savoring the affectionate gesture and the cheeky smile on his face. sukuna's smile widens as you lean into his touch, his hand shifting from your nose to your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. he holds your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of affection and amusement.

he can't help but love how easy it is for the two of you to banter and tease each other like this. he lets out a low, affectionate growl, pulling you closer to him. "you're such a handful, you know that?" again, you nodded your head, “uh-uh.” your finger gently touching his face, tracing the tattoo in tender.

sukuna can't help but lean into your touch, his expression softening as you brush your finger over his tattoos. he loves the way you touch him, so gentle and affectionate. he watches you closely, his gaze warm and affectionate. he gently captures your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your fingers. "you're going to be the death of me, brat," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly.

he pulls your hand down, still holding it in his own as he continues to look at you. his fingers interlace with yours, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles.he can feel the tension between you slowly building, the air thick with a subtle hint of desire. but he doesn't rush it, instead he just savors the moment, enjoying the simple intimacy of being close to you.

“but you don't mind, hm?” you softly ask, resting your cheek on your palm while you are still lying in your stomach before him. “you love me too much for that,” you added. sukuna can't help but chuckle at your question, his eyes sparkling with amusement and affection.

he reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "you're damn right i do," he replies, his voice filled with pride and adoration. "and i wouldn't have it any other way." he leans in closer, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours. "you've got me wrapped around your little finger, princess."

you raise your eyebrows, pretend to be questioning him. “yeah? or it is because i'm naked under your cover, in your bed?” you playfully ask him. sukuna lets out a low chuckle at your bold question, his eyes darkening with desire. he can't deny the effect you have on him, especially when you're laying there in his bed like that, completely naked under thecovers.

he leans in even closer, his lips nearly touching yours as he replies in a low, seductive murmur. "well, that definitely doesn’t hurt," he admits, his hand sliding slowly down your side. you chuckle as he wraps his arm around your waist and rolls you over until you are in your back with him on top of you. “oh, you are so dirty,” you tease him, hands kissing his cheeks.

sukuna grins at your playful comment, his body hovering over yours as he looks down at you, a mixture of amusement and desire in his eyes. he enjoys the way you tease him, the way your lips gently kiss his cheeks. it just makes him want you more. he chuckles again as he presses his hips against yours, pinning you to the bed. "only for you, princess," he teases back, his voice low and sultry.

you smile ear to ear before pulling the cover over both of you. ready to continue what was left and for round three. sukuna lets out a low chuckle as you pull the cover over the two of you, his arms wrapping around you and pressing you close to his body. he can feel the heat radiating off of you, the desire building between you once again. he leans in, his lips gently brushing against your neck, his voice low and sultry as he mumbles between kisses. "round three already, huh? you are such a greedy little thing."

#ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x you #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #anime smut #female reader #devider : by cafekitsune

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fairy-angel222 · 8 months

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BIRTHDAY SEX ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

ft. jjk men [gojo, nanami, geto and toji]

—how they fuck you on your birthday

cw: smut, pussy eating, praise, soft sex, breeding, riding, daddy kink, etc

Gojo. Mr take you out and eat you out

Showers you with gifts and presents. Somehow managing to spoil you more than usual. Buying you any and everything, waking up to gift bags upon gift boxes of designer shoes, clothes, bags, jewelry everything.

Smiles as he watches you groggily rub your hand over your eye, stretching with a yawn. “S..satoru? What’s all this?” He grinned, “C’mon baby, you’re not dumb. It’s f’you. All of it.”

You smile softly, “Baby, you know i love your gifts but this is expensive.”

Gojo shrugged, “Baby, it was nothing. Literally. Pocket change.” Walking up to the side of the bed and kissing your forehead. “Now, hush let me treat this pussy right.”

You whimpered softly, Gojo positioning himself between your legs, spreading your thighs and groaning at the sight. “Gonna do her so good on her day.” Using his teeth to pull off the pink pace, his tongue immediately licking a stripe up your wet folds.

You let out a moan, your hand tangling in your boyfriend’s hair and your back arching with a mewl when Gojo’s tongue swirled around your clit. “Satoru, nnh.” tugging at white strands as two of his fingers dipped into your tight hole.

“S’ good baby— ah, feels so good Satoru.”

Gojo hummed into your wetness, “Always taste so fucking good, could feast on your pussy for days.” Diving back in with a groan, sensually lapping up your juices as he made out with your cunt. Sharp chin dripping with slick as his fingers worked in and out of you, curling them just right with every flick of his tongue on your clit.

Gojo smirked against your skin, watching you moan as your hold on his hair tightened, rolling your hips into his face for more. “Satoru, ah— close- gonna cum f’you.” you cried out softly, his hold on your thighs tightening when your legs began to tremble. Keeping you from closing them as your eyes shut with a mewl, your lips parting in moans of his name as his tongue passionately worked your pussy just how he knew you liked it.

“Go on sweet thing, make a mess on my face f’me. This is me wishing you a happy birthday.” his tongue sucking on your clit while the pace of his fingers sped up. Your breathing heavier as your orgasm washed over you. “O-oh baby, ‘m— fuck.” Clenching down hard before your sopping pussy was gushing onto his hand and into his awaiting mouth.

“Hmm, that’s it. That’s my good girl, gonna fuck you real good now.”

Nanami. Mr slow shots in bed

Wakes you up with something he knows you’d love. His arm around your waist, kissing softly down your neck as he fucked into you slowly. His hips rolling so perfectly into your ass so that his cock grazed against all your spots.

You moaned softly as you woke up, tiredly blinking your eyes open with a whimper. “Kento,”

“Morning sweetheart, happy birthday.”

You moaned once more, the feeling of your boyfriend’s cock grinding into your insides making your head fuzzy, reaching back to grab hold of his hand as you mewled. “Th-thank you, baby, nnh,”

Nanami smiled into you, his other hand reaching forward to rub your clit in slow circular motions. Groaning against your skin when you tightened down on him, your moans gaining volume when he forced his thrusts deeper.

“Gonna treat you so good today, anything you want, it’s yours.” he promised, watching as you only nodded with a whimper. Your head resting on his shoulder as you pushed back cooser into him. Your ass flush against his hips and his chest right up on your back. You couldn’t help the way your eyes shut in pleasure, his name sliding so prettily off your tongue as he brought you closer to orgasm.

“Kento— ‘m close.” you moaned, squeezing his hand when he sped up the circles on your clit. “Cum for me darling, cum for me as much as you’d like.” he encouraged. Your body trembling with a string of moans as you creamed his cock, your pussy clenching as it leaked its wetness.

“Mmm, so good baby.” Nanami praised, still fucking gently into you to bring himself to release.

Geto. Mr breed you full

Gives you his special birthday creampie. Fucking into your sopping cunt till you’re filling the room with your moans and cries.

“Suguru— so good. Love it s’much.”

Geto hummed, “I know you do, gonna stuff you full of my cum for the cherry on top.” His hips slamming into yours passionately as he kissed down your stomach. “gonna breed my birthday girl full.”

You let out a mewl, “Suguru.” Your vision clouding white and your toes curling in ecstasy as your body quivered. Moaning out loudly as Geto’s cock fucked into your gummy walls. “‘M so close—”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock birthday girl? Look s’ beautiful under me.”

You let out a shaky cry, your legs shaking as you clenched down on his girth. A loud chant of his name incoherently falling past your lips as you came on his cock, eyes rolling back and your hips arched. “F-fuck.” Your pussy gushing uncontrollably onto his cock.

“That’s it baby, that’s a good girl, gon fill you up now. Give you that birthday filling.” He grunted, thrusts rhythmless as he bottomed out inside you. Spilling hot ropes of his sticky cum onto your spasming walls.

“Happy birthday baby.” Geto groaned, allowing your tightness to milk him dry before placing a soft kiss to your lips.

Toji. Mr ride me till you can’t

Wants you to sit on his cock and ride until you’re cumming uncontrollably.

“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re dumb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock.”

You whimpered, bouncing yourself up and down the older man’s cock. Chasing high after high as you rolled your hips onto him.

Toji groaned, “It’s your birthday baby, fuck yourself like you deserve it.” landing a slap to your ass and watching as you mewled loudly. “Th-thank you daddy,” your hands on his shoulders as you stuffed your cunt full of his thick cock. “Nng fuck, so good.”

“There we go, this is how you treat yourself baby. Looking so pretty up there.” he praised, his hands behind his head to let you do all the work. You moaned, your pussy clenching down on his girth as you dug your nails into his flesh. “D-daddy—” you cried out, head falling back as you felt yourself getting close again.

“‘M right here baby, give daddy another one.” he smirked, watching the throthy ring of slick form around the base of his cock as you bottomed out deep, his tip piercing deliciously against your gummy walls. “F-fuck, i love you so much,” you whimpered, your stomach tightened and the movement of your hips becoming sloppy.

“I love you more baby.”

You let out a final cry of his name, a silent scream falling past your lips as you squirted messily for him, teary eyes meeting his with a mewl.

“There you go. Feels good being a birthday girl don’t it?”

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gojorgeous · 8 months

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“heatwaves”

pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties. a/n: it's here! somebody spay me. by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. wc: 5k

Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot.

Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way.

But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably.

“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.”

You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross.

You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before.

Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…

“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones…

When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing.

Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers?

“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man…

You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused.

You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour.

You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen.

“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?”

Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was…

“Yes… Thank you.”

Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”

You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…”

“Take care.”

Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources?

You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think.

You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?

You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?

You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.

You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor.

Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.

You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?”

“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?”

Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside.

You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips.

“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”

You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully.

The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost.

“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing.

“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.”

That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”

He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree.

“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground.

“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.

He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker.

But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it.

“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply.

That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?”

You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”

His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”

You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.

That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands.

You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”

You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right?

You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed?

Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power…

“N-no–”

A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?”

You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper.

Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls.

Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard.

“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper.

His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.”

Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–”

“‘M following your scent, baby.”

He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love.

You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin.

Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning.

“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.

Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.”

You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key.

“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak.

“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper.

He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right.

He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough.

You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts.

The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation.

“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.”

His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.

“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again.

You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs.

You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-”

“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back.

You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.”

Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants.

The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty.

His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm.

Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-

“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need.

“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.”

You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.

“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.”

You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

“You on birth control, baby?”

Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…

You shake your head. “N-No…”

There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.”

There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively.

“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back.

Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name.

“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts.

His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me.

“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers.

“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now…

Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together.

Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.”

You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair.

Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones.

“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”

You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut.

“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed.

His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he.

You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does.

His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry.

You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.

It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.

You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision.

His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to.

Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.

His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here.

His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time.

A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.

There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.

His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”

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screampied · 4 months

Text

࣪.₊ 𐙚 SHE WANNA GO VIRALLL ?! ★

gojo, choso, nanami, toji, geto. cybersēx and getting freaky on camera with the jjk men

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, camgirl/boy themes, phone sēx, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, toji slander, toy usage, hair pulling, guided órgasms, size kink, using a cóck ring on choso, squırting, òral (f! / m! receiving), voyerism.

𐚁̸. an. kind of lost in ikea rn so i wrote this yaya

TOJI ✩ FUSHIGURO.

“tch,” toji grunts as a third piercing smack hits against your ass. you let off a gasp as you’re just lazily arched over for him. just a few moments ago and you were leaking with globs of velvety ropes of cum. the powered on monitor you had propped up against the desk had a blinding bright glow to it. dark, viridescent eyes glance at your chat that’s spamming with donations before he squints. as he’s drilling you into your keyboard from behind, he clings onto your hip. “why the fuck does y’er chat keep callin’ me broke.”

“eheh, oh—” you swallow, feeling him reach in deep areas. indeed they were, flooding your chat with the same tiring jokes of toji. it was a common joke within your audience. as another moan leaves your throat rawly, you gnaw down on your lip. “they’re jus’ trolling, ‘toj. everyone knows you’re filthy rich, baby.”

itsnotchosover: girl who is everyone

sexymartha38: he's so hottttt. when is it my turn

drakesfatbbltbh: Dad? :0

with an eye roll, he resumes back to fucking you stupid. a being hand of his grasps onto your head, digging into your precious scalp. holding your head up, he makes you stare at your thousands of viewers with the dumbest expression glued onto your face. “bet all y’er little fans wish they were me, huh,” and there’s such cockiness dripping underneath his tone. toji’s fat cock has your mouth dangling agape—you’re almost drooling. it was so effortless on how you’d always coat his base with a translucent-colored ring. a pretty, soddened white ring that sticks against your ass each thrust he presents. it’s downright nasty, and yet—his hips were even nastier. as he’s got your hair with a firm secure grip, he lightly shoves you into the screen. moaning, you’re being pushed face first into the monitor—pupils glowing from the colors on your stream ricocheting against your dilated irises. “mhm, good girl. fuck back against me ‘n let these losers watch.”

of course—throughout everything, he’s catching all types of strays through the multicolored flood of comments.

toji could really care less though, a sly grin compresses against his lips before he makes you arch more forward. your back slouches over the wooden desk in such a sexy way that he can’t help but gift your left cheek with another rude spank. “f-fuuuck,” you’d sob out, trying to grab onto your mouse but he snatches your hand. with a quick paced speed, he makes your arm restrain around your back. significantly, he’s amping up his sloppy pace. your weeping cunt repeatedly squelches against him over and over and over. it’s never ending—profusely, your cunt’s idly dripping wet and the sounds just gets more addictive to listen to. that and the repetitive shrilling pings of your donations. aw, another goal met, it makes you smile with gratitude—and just as you were about to recite your recycled ‘thank you’ to your thousands of viewers, your breath catches in your throat and you whine. toji’s thickset base pap pap pap’s against you through and through and your mind’s just mush. not a single thought in your empty brain. “gonna cum, toji. tojiiiii, so fuckin’ big.”

“want me ‘ta slow down after you said i was small, yeah oookay,” and he’s just so sassy that you wanted smack him. that was practically true though. your chat told you to prank toji, telling him how he’s small. obviously, that wasn’t true, and here you were, feeling every staggering inch he’s presenting to your clingy greedy pussy.

a sopping string of your own slick sticks against his base each time—it’s sticky, he groans at the sight of it. a tongue of his flicks against the scar near the right side of his mouth and you wriggle your hips back into him. hissing at the almost sharp sensation between your thighs and your constant teasing, he yanks you back toward him. leaning up close to you, he licks a stripe down your neck before groaning. “sloppy fuckin’ girl, ‘m gonna get you pregnant on live. want that?”

with a sheepish whine pouring out of your throat, you grind your body against him, feeling the tip of his dick expand through every secluded crevice of your sweet cunt. “yeah, gimme a baby then. fill me up again, pleaseee.”

and as his pounding against your clit exceeds, so does your arch. the pace was almost animalistic. the chat’s spamming with comments, praising you and even trolling your expressions. your mind’s on a loop, with warm bodies clashing against each other, he groans into your ear. “fuck, gonna give you twins, girl,” and his voice was a mere pitchy deep. your limbs spike and with his rough hips, it allows a candied stretch to pry its way into your pussy. all from your girth, it’s almost delicious and you’d rate his dick five stars if you could. “shit, clamping all around m—” and before he could even finish his sentence, toji pauses. a roaring grunt rumbles out from him and he steadies your hips. not only does he shoot into you, but he gets a mean leg cramp. twitching ravened brows of his contort together and he quickly pulls out. it’s almost comedic, you stare at him through the reflection of your screen all while feeling his oozing hot cum spill down from between your thighs. hearing a giggle come from you, he grunts, spanking your ass. don’t laugh, little girl.”

“s- sorry, forgot you have skeleton bones,” you playfully rub your neck, peering your eyes at the dozens of comments trolling him.

“s— shut up,” he breathes, both hands on his hips. his leaky tip now flaccid and swollen, toji entraps his bottom lip with a teeth. exhaling out a tired whew, his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. “gimme a minute. er . . an hour, fuckk.”

and then as he tries to get up, a sudden loud crack in his bones occurs. “ignore that.”

NANAMI ✩ KENTO.

with a pout, you slump back onto the shared bed of your husband. it was near the afternoon—you knew he was busy, off on a mission or something but you missed him badly. it was almost painful at how you almost forgot what his touch felt like.

so you decide to text him. pulling out your phone, you scroll towards his contact with a heart next to his name. eagerly, you align your thumbs against the grey keyboard, squeezing your thighs together. starting off with a simple, ‘miss you baby,’ and awaiting for his reply. as you wait, you go back to playing with yourself. with your pretty legs all sprawled out, your fingers cramp up inside of your drooling pussy. shoved to the side of your thighs were a pair of panties nanami gifted you on your birthday. about four minutes later, he replies.

nanami: Sweetheart. I miss you too.

nanami: I need to hear your voice, call me yeah?

and without wasting any time, you dial those same known ten digits before pressing a thumb against the call button. on the first ring, he answers and he speaks first with a low, “hey you, how’s my pretty princess?”

“horrible,” you whine, still stuffing your cunt full of fingers. two slender fingers that were all soaked with your slick. it was a mess, your breathing patterns continue to change the more you imagine if he was really here. “i- i miss you, ‘ken. touchin’ myself ‘s so hard when you’re not around.”

“oh,” nanami says through the other line, his voice as smooth as silk. his absent presence only his fingers knew the exact layout of your pussy. nanami’s fingers were the pure definition of utopia—knowing all the right areas of your cunt with such ease. simply perfect. nanami was still on a mission, but he took care of his tasks. clearing his throat, taking a seat on a nearby bench, he sighs. “you’re touching yourself without me, huh sweetheart.”

“s- sorry,” you stammer, feeling yourself about to release soon. not before long, your thighs start to quiver and shake. “mhm,” you chew on the lower part of your lip, feeling your breathing shake up. “kento, talk to me please. help me c-cum, baby.”

“my wife decided to be filthy today,” he purrs, the sweet moans that escaped from your lips making his cock twitch. you were so loud, he’s always thought you had the prettiest voice. as you’re continuing to feel pounds of elation surge through you—you curl a finger inside, rubbing against your sensitive nub. “bring the phone up to her. wanna hear what she’s got to say too, my love.”

putting it up to your sopping cunt, you switch the phone to speaker. nanami grows mute for a second, listening to how wet you were. your fingers play and strum against your folds before you start to tremble. “k- kento, ‘m close, so close.”

“come on princess, listen to my voice, okay,” and with your back reclined against the cushioned mattress, you start to pant. your body feels limp, his voice was the perfect mixture of deep and a bit raspy—tender, each praise he gives you only makes you throb even more. “i want you to pretend you’re using my fingers,” and as he’s speaking, the tips of your fingers prod against that particular area. grazing against your clitoral hood, you nibble on your halfway lolled out tongue. “mhm, doing so well. just listen to me, play with her a bit more ‘n then let go sweetheart. let go just for me.”

gasping for any sorts of breaths—you whimper, two fingers getting lost into the depths of your pussy. it was a mess, a nice viscous amount of your slit departs from your digits as you pull them out of you before dragging them back in. “kento, ‘m cumming. all on your f- fingers,” you whine, imagining it was his thick fingers shoving in and out instead of yours. as you continue to whine through irregular breaths, the bobbing of your throat intensifies. “hnghh,” you babble, clammy fingers soaking in everything before you finally let loose. gushing out— it’s a lot. volumes of your sweet trickle onto the satiny sheets. a damp spot soaks its way into the fabric before you collapse back with a cute orgasm to follow. “f- fuck, ‘s good,” and your legs tremor vigorously. you felt like you were floating, everything throbbed and pulsed and your mind felt like it was racing at miles a minute. with an airy exhale, you put the phone back up to your mouth. “ken— you still there?”

“always,” he coos, his voice sending you various amounts of euphoric shivers. as you’re still letting go of your high, you can hear nanami’s raspy breaths through the other end of the phone too. he’s panting, almost as if he was actually there with you. “good girl, you did so good,” and nanami pauses for three seconds before whispering. “hm, i gotta go—but princess, send me a picture of the mess. i wanna see what ‘m gonna have to clean up when i get home.”

CHOSO ✩ KAMO.

it wasn’t really surprising to you that you found out your shy and timid best friend was a camboy. he was pretty well known—trendy and everyone’s favorite whiner.

pulling in thousands and thousands of views per month, he started to become a household name in the cyber world. choso was having a usual stream late at night, stroking himself off in front of his various followers. biting his lip, he tries to ignore the comments of his fans asking for him to try on his cock ring. “h- heh, if you guys want me to do that, you’ll have to help us reach our goal.”

and as soon as he says that, he reaches it.

with a frowning pout, choso’s lip quivers. “shit. nevermind then,” and as he’s fisting his own dick with solid pumps, a vein runs down his prolonged fat shaft.

he leans back, tossing his head back too—choso’s hair was unkempt and flowing down. he didn’t have his usual two ponytails today. ravened strands of hair go against his eyes and he lets off a nervous laugh toward his viewers. “ugh, s-so much for that. fine, i’ll use it for a little,” and then it dawned on him, the cock ring not only goes around choso, but it vibrates too.

as he’s just about to put the toy around his base, that’s right when you walk in. “hey, did you see my shower g-” and your jaw nearly drops once you’re trying to process the lewd view in front of you. so that’s what that noise was, the constant whining through the walls. choso’s reaction is an exact replica of yours. swallowing thickly, he’s still got his erect dick in hand, and it’s just so pretty. “oh, am i interrupting?”

“n— no,” he hitches a single breath, taking a moment to stare at your body. even dressed down, you looked so attractive. with a sheepish grin, he rubs a hand down the brief undercut that’s near his nape. he’s embarrassed, but it slowly goes away due to him being aroused. occasionally gawking at the chat, he does a hand motion with his fingers. “actually, since you’re here. i kinda need your help. please.”

“okay,” you giggle, setting aside your bag. you’re face first with his dick that’s standing tall right in front of you. it seems like he’s been stroking it for a while before stopping. the tip of his shaft was all reddened. a flustered pinkish pink. choso licks his lips and you stare at his neatly set up monitor. “hi chat,” you tease, and dozens of comments stare to flood, asking if you’re the girlfriend he keeps rambling about. with an eyebrow raise, you hum. “girlfriend?”

“sh— ignore them,” he grunts, and he grabs onto your arm. in a shaky breath, choso speaks in an almost needy whisper. “can . . i use your hand? sorry if that’s weird. you just- you have really nice hands,” and once you simper, giving him a nod, he softly grabs ahold of your wrist. choso couldn’t wait any longer, he didn’t really care if things felt rushed—with another lip bite, he hands you the plastic cock ring. “put . . can you put this on me ‘n stroke me off? mhm, ‘m close ‘n it might help.”

“ooh, a cock ring?” you stare at the toy in hand, a thumb feeling against the stretchy material. choso prepares to inhale once you stretch it out, playing with the buttons on it. your eyes briefly light up once you notice that it can really vibrate. oh, he was gonna whine for sure.

putting it around his dick, it flings a bit before you grab ahold of his base—it’s pretty, a vein runs down the very center and you can’t help but give his tip a little kiss. “mwah,” you smooch, even going far as to sliding your tongue against his sensitive frenulum. his tip was leaky, you taste a bit of his bitterly sweet precum before you turn the ring on its medium setting. once the whirring buzzes of the toy vibrates, you leer up at him. “mhm, ‘s this okay, ‘cho?”

“y- yes, kiss it more please. use your t- tongue,” and as he exhales deeply, his chest falters back. your tongue feels so good. with the mixture of added vibrations, he wasn’t gonna last two seconds. the maddening ringing in his ears was so high pitched that it was almost equivalent to tinnitus. whining, he grabs a fist full of your hair before you start to open your lips apart. choso watches with glossy eyes as you lower your head onto his length, taking him into your warm welcoming mouth. “mhm, such a nasty little t- throat,” and his voice cracks—even his attempt at dirty talk was adorable. choso then gawks back up at his audience, thousands of viewers praising choso for being so whiney, with a few comments praising how pretty you looked.

he never told you, but he told his fans that you were his girlfriend, every single stream. you were just his roommate, but he liked imagining you and him were together. a little fantasy of his.

your throat was a force to be reckoned with. it was warm and narrow, so perfect for his long inches. you almost gag a bit as he’s lightly pushing you back and down—yet he pauses every few seconds to ask if it’s too much or if you’re okay. choso was lengthy, a bit of girth and you were already slobbering on his dick. the constant teeth-shattering vibrations of the cock ring that’s wrapped around his base makes him whimper. “mphm,” you make a muffled noise, feeling him sloppily drag your head down back and forth. you’re trying to speak but choso nervously smiles.

“b- baby, don’t talk with your mouth so . . full, ‘s rude,” he swallows, feeling the inside of his throat become dry. and of course, choso barely lasts.

the pulsing in his cock only surges, and within minutes he’s already a mess—he ends up finishing early, shooting a whopping load into your mouth. it’s gooey and comes out in stringy ropes. it coats all on the back of your tongue and you’re slurping it all up. “s-so good,” he whines, and choso’s looking down at you with literal heart eyes dilating in his irises. with that throat of yours, he was already in love. he’s heavily panting, and he closes his laptop before making your bobbing head get off his length. with the cock ring still jittering against his length, he gingerly grabs you by the neck, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. despite its deepness, it was sensual. immediately, choso sucks against your tongue. half-lidded eyes staring up at you before he moans, tasting the remnants of his own cum on your lips. a free hand shakily rubs against your neglected cunt. “t- thank you,” he mewls, sable strands of hair sticking against his forehead. huffing out a single breath, he squeezes your cunt before making you wrap a leg around his waist. “i want more though. i want y- you.”

GOJO ✩ SATORU & SUGURU ✩ GETO.

with them both, they’re both major sluts.

it goes without saying that where there’s gojo there’s geto. in this case, they’d both be top camboys. fighting over the number one spot of being at the top. but as of now, they’d both be fighting between your legs. fighting over who can eat you out better.

they’d position their monitor in a good angle so that their thousands of viewers can see you with your legs all sprawled out.

“f-fuuck,” you whine, feeling each of their tongues clash and swipe against your saturated entrance. you were living every girl’s dream—as you ogle down toward your two best friends, you comb a hair through geto’s messy strands. with a tight yanking grip, you pull his hair up. “like that sugu, wanna feel your piercing more.”

“hmph,” gojo pouts, using a broad hand to pry your legs apart even further. you’d already came about four times. four times the two of them snatched out such dangerously pleasurable orgasms. with your head throwing itself back, you feel gojo starting to suck against your clit. gojo’s getting aroused himself. a free hand of his reaching down, creeping inside of his boxers.

the difference between gojo and geto—gojo was more of a clit biter, geto was more of a clit kisser.

where gojo’s sloppy sucks and slurps against your cunt would occur, they’d soon turn into playful bites and nibbles. “stop hoggin’ her, suguboo,” he grumbles, the cutest pout squeezing against his facial expressions. geto’s got a sly grin, feeling you tug all on his hair. as his face runs back and forth against your cunt, his chin pouring down with a sheeny slick of your slit, he kisses your pussy. a variety of smooches that makes you pulse right on their tongues.

“make me, pretty boy.”

they’d always bicker, always,

you’re struggling to stay still, squirming from the stimulation and it’s making your mouth water. you were sure they were gonna give you another orgasm within no time.

with your tummy heaving sporadically in and out at such irregular intervals, you let off a whiney whimper. gojo nibbles down against your cunt, and he suddenly pauses once he feels geto’s tongue flick against his. “eh. dude—”

“what, you want me to give you attention too or something?” geto shrugs, and you feel the long edges of his fingernails trace against your skin.

seductively, he gently uses the tip of his finger to carve into your leg, pretending he’s writing the four letters of his name on your flesh.

circling against your skin, he pushes his tongue in further before he’s nose deep—bedaubing all over and against your slick. “mhm, fuckin’ soaked for us.” and a thumb of his drags down your swollen, pulsing clit. your cunt continues to weep and beg for more, you’re so close—your orgasm was on the very tip of your tongue. you could almost taste it.

gojo’s still got the same pouty glower on his face as the two of them delve their twitching pink tongues into your cunt. hot, feverish breaths fan and aerate against your pussy before he cranes his head toward geto, mumbling in a cheeky tone. “you wanna kiss me so bad.”

“maybe i do.” geto rolls his eyes—and a dozen invisible question marks float over your head as your two best friends were literally flirting.

right in front of your salad—well in the case, right in front of your pussy.

by now, you’d all forgotten they were still live, hence the deafening pinging sounds of donations and notifications bringing you straight back to reality. staring down at them both, geto and gojo were still between your legs before they lean in to kiss. immediately, gojo folds before whining into geto’s tongue as the moving muscles dance amongst each other. for some reason, as they’re making out and still eating you out, it makes you throb. gojo’s pretty lashes flutter close, and they take turns with claiming each other’s lips and sucking against your pussy.

but that only lasts for a second or two—as they’re still having their lips locked, a hand of geto’s slides up gojo’s shirt, chuckling against his lips. furrowing your brows, it’s now your turn to pout. “um?? hello. did you guys just forget about me?”

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