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BLURS WHERE YOUR EYES ARE SUPPOSED TO BE [geto suguru]
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✒ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖. There’s a certain type of heartbreak that comes with knowing that his face is becoming more and more unfamiliar by the moment.
✒ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬. Suguru Geto x gn!reader, angst that (maybe) gets resolved in the end, long lost love, kind of in between Gojo's past arc and Jujutsu Kaisen 0, canon-compliant but also not?? does that make sense?? yes i like hurting myself this way
✒ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 3.7k
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Suguru’s departure shouldn’t have wounded you as much as it did.
The life of a jujutsu sorcerer meant that there were moments when it was impossible to win, instances where it would’ve been better to give up and die rather than to keep fighting for the sake of protecting those who can’t do it themselves. One moment, all possibilities seemed attainable, and the next, all efforts were fruitless. One minute, you’re the most invincible person to ever walk the Earth, and the next, you’ve got two left feet. And yet, somehow, Suguru made these inevitable contradictions just a bit more bearable.
He was a special-grade sorcerer and you weren’t, he was better than you ever could’ve been. But he still chooses to be around you, chooses to hold you and stays up until dawn to talk about nonsense with you. He listens when you lament about your cursed technique advancing far too quickly, and you return the favor when he complains about the taste of curses. Yes, he’s got Satoru to spar with, but if he ever had the choice, he’d take you in a heartbeat. All while his sly but warm eyes gaze down at you like you hung the moon and stars, his hair that’s usually pulled back in a bun flowing in the wind—even the bangs that Riko Amanai called weird.
His eyes were always distinct. Distinctively lovely.
With you, with his friends, he was Suguru Geto. The quiet, charming, and cunning young man who stole your heart like nobody’s business. He was Suguru Geto, one of Jujutsu High’s most prolific students alongside Satoru Gojo, and one of the next generation’s strongest. He was Suguru Geto, and he was yours.
It was only a matter of time before circumstances messed it up for everyone. A matter of time before he would become Suguru Geto, the ruthless sorcerer who would massacre an entire village, the exhausted young man whose friend was drifting farther away. Suguru Geto, the sorcerer who thought he was above powerless humans, dubbed the most evil curse user. It was only a matter of time before Suguru, who was once empathetic and mischievous, would become more apathetic and indifferent.
His eyes grew less kind, but they never lied. And they didn’t lie the day he’d snuck into Jujutsu High to kiss you good-bye one last time after his expulsion from the school—all you could see was the mistiness, hurt, and helplessness when he pulled back to cradle your head in his hands. Satoru wouldn’t have let him, Principal Yaga wouldn’t have let him. Hell, you would’ve pushed him away if you weren’t so foolishly blinded by love and hope. Hope that this wouldn’t be the last time, and hope that this wasn’t the path he wanted to take. But there was never any chance of convincing him when he was already too far gone.
There was blood on his hands and you let it taint your soul.
You distinctly remember one single tear tumbling down his cheek when he sprinted away, only for them to be calculating the moment you saw him on television. You remembered so much of him before, and yet now, you couldn’t even remember what color his eyes were. Not even whether his hair ended on his shoulder or his bicep, or how large his earrings were.
The face that would’ve been so familiar to you in your youth was starting to crumble like a fragile sandcastle. Suguru Geto, no matter how frequently he was being hunted down by sorcerers, was starting to become just a figment of your wretched memories. You don’t even remember what his smile looked like—you haven’t remembered anything at all.
You haven’t done so in a while. Six years, to be exact.
What was it that Satoru said? “Love is the most twisted curse of all.” He’s never been more correct.
And it was a curse you were weak against. No amount of training or resilience could’ve ever prepared you for the mission you were going to be sent on, not when you have to face the manifestation of your love and heartbreak. There was a gaping hole where he should’ve been, and trying to fill it was like trying to feed an endless black hole.
✧˚ · . ✧˚ · . ✧˚ · . ✧˚ · .
“I’ll update you when my interview with the monk is over. Have a nice day.” You mumble into your phone speaker, with the short but polite farewell of your chief editor on the other end of the line. The normalcy of becoming a civilian is still quite fresh to you—being a jujutsu sorcerer doesn’t go away immediately—and while you prefer this over every day of your youth spent toiling over monsters and supernatural beings, that doesn’t stop you from seeing grotesque curses fester in abandoned infrastructures, or the sudden impact of negativity that simmers in your chest whenever you catch the slightest hint of cursed energy.
This was no exception. Had it been a coincidence that the stories you always seem to land on were haunted? There wasn’t anything uncommon about monks in Japan, but this particular one had been fascinating. What did the witnesses mean when they said he could heal physical and spiritual pains on the spot? It sounded rather sketchy, but it was tame compared to the horrors of seeing and fighting curses firsthand. It doesn’t help that you have no insider info on this monk to even base your questions on.
That had only been part of the reason why you left the Jujutsu world the moment you graduated. Gradually, your friends had all taken different paths, and you did, too. Trying to reach out to them after all these years feels like attempting to fill a void in your heart that you know is unfixable. The void he left in there.
Your throat constricts just by the mere thought. Like this place hadn’t been stuffy enough, despite the high ceilings and full windows. This was enough reminder of your days practicing sorcery, enough of a reminder of what you’d lost and what you were starting to forget.
I have no idea what he looks like anymore. Is this worse than having everything I look at remind me of him? The drawings, the messy sketches in the back of several notebooks weren't doing you anything beneficial.
You don’t even realize how conspicuously you’d been fidgeting in your seat before one of the monk’s attendants called for your attention. The notepad sitting in your lap nearly fell to the ground, and your stomach churns so hard that you have half a mind to relieve it all in the nearest bathroom. But amidst your physical predicament (and your body’s obvious refusal to move forward), you keep your expression trained.
“Is he done?” You ask. The attendant only gives you a quiet nod, gesturing you to follow him. This reeks of jujutsu sorcery all over again, but you try not to pay attention to the sinister atmosphere of the entire building, or the unsettling way the attendant doesn’t seem to say anything out of fear or pure stoicism. You might’ve been living as a civilian for quite some time now, but it’s never tampered with how you perceive curses.
With every click of your shoe’s soles against the floor, you’re memorizing every question and response you could ask this monk. Each sounding more incredulous than the last, more outlandish and more unhinged. But you realize it far too late, because the moment the shoji doors slide open to reveal an empty room with a raised stage at the front, all logic and reason fly out the window.
Were you clueless because you had no idea how you were going to ask your questions without getting blasted? Absolutely.
Were you clueless because the attendant had just shut the doors again and left you unsupervised? Hell yes.
Were you clueless because you were unarmed in case this monk was some kind of curse user? Maybe
And most of all, were you clueless because the long black hair and hushed voice were all too familiar for a face that was now akin to a stranger’s? Yes. Definitively and irrevocably.
You have a half a mind to start vomiting right then and there, but you figure it’s best to show otherwise and kneel down on the pillow that had been reserved for you. Your notepad is turned for a fresh page, your phone is ready to pick up the voice recordings and, of course, your resolve is ready to be destroyed for the inevitable moment the monk decides to show his face to you.
Your heart thuds against your rib cage, your skin freezes over despite the warm cover of your jacket, but you keep your gaze trained forward as the monk sits back down on his raised altar, seemingly bored out of his mind. His voice is gentle, but almost patronizing and condescending, in a sense. Although his words of greeting are short, they keep muting randomly, as though you were trying to bob your head out of the water for moments of clarity, only to sink back down into nothingness.
“Head up, please. This interview will be awkward if you keep looking at the ground.” Shit.
Like the hair didn’t give it away already, you audibly gulped when you met the gaze of the man right in front of you. Except, you weren’t exactly meeting his eyes—they were nowhere to be seen. There was only a blurred line with dashes of a few colors that replaced the two windows to the soul. In fact, most parts were bleeding together—his robes, his sandals, his hair—they blended together into one incomprehensible shape right in front of you. You swore on your terrible vision that this was only because of your less than stellar eyesight, and not something else that triggered the searing pain overtaking your internal organs.
But goodness, his smile shone through it all. Not the wide and devious grin that he wears now, but the soft and good-natured smile that made even the most battle-scarred of men blush.
“Sorry. I’m not used to being alone with things like this.” You reply, as a way to alleviate the terror welling up in your chest. His figure starts becoming more concrete again, and the nagging voice in the back of your brain tells you to get on with the interview. Even as the other parts of him became more discernible, his face remained a static mess. You were unsure where his forehead ended, or where his nose started. The only thing you could make out is the unmistakable blots of purple and white where his eyes should be, and the deep pink where his lips store his charming smile.
That’s not the point of why you’re here, though. But with the way his head cocks to the side, you have to wonder if you looked like a blurry mess to him as well.
“That much is obvious, my darling. Is it because we used to do everything together?” He asks innocently, like he isn’t unraveling your tangled heartstrings by the minute. Don’t let him get personal. Ask your questions, send them in, and you can go back to letting his face drift away. If only the will of the human soul was so malleable.
“This is a different matter and you know it, Geto.” Your voice comes off more harshly than intended, and yet, the lingering affection manages to seep in.
As though it was the antidote for his facelessness, his name manages to make his facial features clearer. The sharpness of his brows, the creases on his forehead, and once—for once—you can see the outline of his upturned eyes. It is only a fleeting moment before he returns as an anonymous lover.
“We can save the conflict for later. I’m here for one thing and one thing only,” Your back straightens instinctually. If being both a sorcerer and news writer taught you anything, it was etiquette. “What led you to becoming the supreme leader of this cult? How did you gain such power?”
Suguru hums thoughtfully. The tension is palpable, as though he himself is holding himself back from mentioning the troubled past that forced everything good apart. Your intuition would be a blessing and a curse, because he’d answered with the reply you’d been dreading to hear. “I’m afraid that I can’t tell you the full story without mentioning what happened to us in the past. It’s greatly intertwined. And I don’t”
“You can. For this article, Suguru, I don’t need you to recount how you’ve ruined so many lives. Satoru’s, most of all.” And you said you were going to save the drama for later. And mine, most especially goes unsaid. You’re certain that it’s already been made clear by the frown on your face. You’re certain that you’ve already driven the point home so many years ago when he’d held you for the last time as Suguru.
At that point, you’d thought that you’d be met with a bitter scoff, a cruel monologue about how it had always been inevitable that he would go down this path, a painful reminder that there was never a chance for you to change him. And you would be right, at least partially. “Satoru doesn’t matter for today, not right now. This is about you and me, darling, the loose ends I failed to tie up. This isn’t about how much wrong I’ve done in the world right now, it’s how about how I wronged you–”
“This isn’t the right time to bring this up–”
“But it matters just as much now–”
“There’s more people you hurt other than just me–”
“Hurt is hurt, my darling, and I know we can’t undo it–”
“Of course, we can’t! How much hurt does it take for me to forget your face?”
You couldn't care less if you could be heard from the next room over. No, you really couldn’t care less that you were on the brink of hysteria in a matter of a few minutes. Only Suguru could bring you to such new heights of passions, even when your relationship had long since diminished.
And it seems like Suguru had come to the same conclusion as you, because the moment the bittersweet question leaves your lips, the once eerily quiet room is once again silent, this time with lingering tension.
It’s a stab straight to your heart when you realize that the deeper you sink back into your heartbreak, his features start seeping into each other. This is the worst time to become a blob again, Suguru.
“...What do you mean by that?” A sentence he says with underlying malice, but overridden by genuine confusion. Honestly, you can’t really tell anymore. You’ve got your head hung low after your brief outburst, and training your gaze onto Suguru isn’t exactly a good option.
Nevertheless, the sheer cluelessness present in his tone is a punch to the gut. He couldn’t have known.
A shaky sigh escapes through your nostrils, hands constricting to the point where the page of your notebook crumples under your grasp. Your vision is getting undeniably mistier. “That’s not important. I was never here to fix things with you in the first place, and it’s the same for you, I’m assuming.”
But you gain enough pride to keep your head up, like he says. The pen remains stagnant in your grasp, ready to forget that entire debacle in favor of your actual purpose. “If we agree to forget about this, then I won’t bother you–”
The words fall flat on your tongue when you hear shuffling from in front of you. The imposing figure that once stood above you, now he kneels before you, with his face leveled with yours. Under any other circumstance, you would’ve seen this as a threat, that you shouldn’t have brought this up ever, that this was his way of telling you that you should fear him. And yet, instead, it fills you with warmth. The warmth that one flickering flame provides, or the warmth that a large furnace brings. Either way, he doesn’t move, or you think he doesn’t dare to.
You don’t see his hands move from his lap, and while you can’t minimize the tension churning in your stomach, something about him consistently succeeds in relaxing you. His voice only serves to disperse whatever doubts you had that he would hurt you. “What have I always told you about bothering me?”
Because Suguru only ever saw you as his equal.
Your breath hitches, your throat feels like it’s closing in you when you meet his gaze. The gaze that isn’t there. “I don’t know…I don’t remember it.”
“No, I’m certain that you do.” He presses softly, and for the first time in God knows how long, he’s brave enough to lace his fingers with yours. Not before he carefully places your belongings to the side.
As soon as your nerve endings feel each other, you already sense a typhoon forming in your already glassy vision. This isn’t the touch of a merciful leader trying to console his followers that he has their best interests in mind, but the touch of a depraved man who hasn’t recognized love for so long.
“Nothing you do could have ever bothered me. I’ve made it clear time and time again. You’re still so stubborn…”
It’s such a simple sentiment, and yet it holds all value in this world. Suguru is right, you’re stubborn and you aren’t ashamed of it. But this time, it feels like your least redeeming quality. “It’s not that simple, Geto. I can’t explain it to you without sounding like a fool.”
“Then I shall listen to a fool,” He answers with finality. For all his preconceived cunning and cruelty, he still responds to you like he did before. Six years should have shifted him fully, but there are still so many remnants of the broken man left behind. “Suguru, darling. It has always been Suguru for you. You’re still important enough to me for you to be able to refer to me as such.”
You haven’t changed. You’re not even being scolded or forcibly adviced to follow his orders. Once again, you find yourself at the whims of your lost lover. “I don’t see anything when I look at you, Suguru. Everything around me is clear as day, but your face…everything about you…it’s not…”
You never should have entertained this further. Maybe you should have given this article to someone else.
“I’m sorry. You probably don’t believe me, you have every reason not to.” You sniff quietly. Suguru’s grip on your fingers loosen ever so lightly.
One beat. Then two, then a third. His hands ultimately leave yours, in favor of cradling your face in his hand. It’s secure, but not strained. He simply holds you, without any intention of moving you against your will.
“You are more believable than the monkeys who come complaining to me on the regular,” Suguru muses. “Darling…I don’t need you to look at me, but I need your ears to heed me.”
You’re fully grown, you’ve spent enough time in such harsh environments to convince yourself when to and not to let your feelings get in the way. Just like how he minimizes the burdens of your soul, he only continues to weigh more, conversely.
“I…shit, it definitely hurts to hear you say that you’re slowly starting to forget me. We’ve crossed drastically different paths, but the one constant that never seems to want to leave me is you, all of you. Unlike you, your face is what fills my dreams and haunts my nightmares. It only serves to remind me that I left you in pursuit of changing the greater good. Your tears are unforgettable, as are your laughter and affection.”
Only then does he adjust his large palms to hold you near your chin, a slow and deliberate touch. Suguru coaxes you to look at him now, and everything still seems hopeless. His face doesn’t change at all, you’re still gazing straight into a blank slate despite the sincerity in his very spirit.
But for Suguru, he feels like he’s staring at the same hopeless teenager that once held so much affection for him. No matter how old you’ve gotten, the desperation and hope still lingers. The pain, most of all. He still feels like the new murderer he did long ago—he still wants to kiss all uncertainties away and comfort you so easily.
And you have no idea.
“I won’t use this opportunity as a chance to convince you to join me, or even to return to the Jujutsu world. My plans are already in motion, and I can’t grant you the peace you deserve if I bring you back into this life. But, let me be a selfish man for once, I want to reconnect with you. This is one of the last loose strings I want to tie before I realize I’m too far gone,” Suguru continues. Apathy and indifference threatens to taint his tone again, but something more vibrant and thoughtful opposes it again.
“I’ll grant you the permission to continue this interview more casually. And if you ever make the choice to continue seeing me, or the choice to let me drift away to the back of your mind, I only want you to know that you will always be on the forefront of mine.”
You don’t register it soon enough, but the moment you close your eyes, a single tear cascades out of each eye, enough to dampen the pads of Suguru’s thumb.
The six years’ worth of heartbreak isn’t so easily reversed, and a simple conversation such as this isn’t enough to undo Suguru’s wrongdoings. But it’s a first step in what could be a redemption.
“Don’t cry…Not until snot comes out of your nose again, darling.”
Glimpses of the past will keep returning, will keep seeping into the present. It’s a relatively dark path, but the future’s light flickers ever so faintly from a distance.
“Alright. Please, this has been long overdue.”
For a moment, just for the briefest of moments, a face permeates through the mist of your tears. A pair of purple eyes staring back at you, gaze just as glossy as yours, paired with the sweetest smile to ever grace the universe.
Distinctly lovely. All mine.
And you know you could be anything but dreaming.
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dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/saradika-graphics. ctto for the photos used. much love from yours truly <33
©ilsefieldtrip 2024. please do not copy, plagiarize, or modify any works.
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BY HIS OWN ARROW [kamo choso]
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✒ 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖. A headstrong princess & world-weary god of passionate love will face challenges grander than they could ever have imagined. "We were not in thrall to destiny or fate, but merely the weight of our own choices. When we turn toward each other like flowers facing the sun, we were not fulfilling some prophecy or old story. We were writing our own." - Eros, Psyche and Eros by Luna McNamara
✒ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬. eros!choso & fem!psyche!reader, greek myths reimagined, implied sexual content, happy ending, loneliness & mild angst, offset by more fluff, pining (in the ancient times), choso is a softie, ilse got a bit dramatic in some parts
[@interconnectedmatrix made me do it but this is mostly my fault AHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA]
FEATURED WORKS.
ღ prologue | psyche's ver. ღ four. ღ prologue | eros' ver. ღ five. ღ one. ღ six. ღ two. ღ seven. ღ three ღ epilogue
NOTE: this is mostly indefinite and i will be adding more parts the farther we go :33
hi, all! this is an introduction to my newest series involving my two worst hyper-fixations (oh dear) because i am at peak unemployed behavior. consider this as a master list because these works will be posted very soon.
this is a 50/50 my original rendition of the original myth of Psyche & Eros, while also taking elements from Luna McNamara's novel of the same name. nevertheless, i do wish it remains equally enjoyable and unique! these will be soon posted on any platform i have >:))
i enjoyed writing the first parts of these, and once these come out, i sincerely hope everyone will enjoy it as well. that is all for now, thank you so much!
dividers are by @/cafekitsune. credits to the photos used above. much love from yours truly <33
©ilsefieldtrip 2024. please do not copy, plagiarize, or modify any works.
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She's My Vitals!
Synopsis. The best part about a séx ban? When they’re broken!
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, séx bans, bondagé, PÚSSYDRUNK BOYS, creampíes, CÚMPLAY, spítting, true form! Sukuna, dp, pússy-slappíng, chokíng Nanami, BRÉEDING, markíng, making him whíne, talking to her, jealous Nanami, fínger-súcking, NÉEDY boys, “just the típ”, heinous things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.9k
A/N. LAST LEAK DAY HOW ARE WE FEELING BBYGIRLS??
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 1 week…almost
“Oh god…” he’s rasping out, skimming a thick thumb over where your flimsy panties were the most translucent. Just the sticky sheen of saturated slick makes him salivate, neglected cock throbbing with how much he’s missed you. “Y’really got me begging, huh, naughty girl?”
Now, Toji Fushiguro doesn’t ask for attention - either you come to him with that cute pout of yours, begging him to fuck you full of his long, solid inches or you don’t. Toji Fushiguro doesn’t grovel - he’s never just barely lasted only a measly week since being punished with a sex ban. Banging at your door soon after, strong arms just wrangling his pretty girl to the ground right then and there.
But here he was.
“S-so eager.” you’re humming, the hardwood floors of your hallway chafes lightly underneath your arched back. Your nails dig into his muscled shoulders, holding back a giggle at the way he’s already so gone. Eyes droopy, abs flexing, panting. “Affected so much by-”
“-just a week?” Two rough hands knead at your ass, dragging your body forwards to grind his angry cock in a sultry push. “A week of hell, you mean.”
There’s a soft smack! gifted right onto your puffed-up clit, and Toji has the audacity to laugh - laugh, all low and humorless when your needy cunt gushes out in another way of your syrupy sweet juices.
“Though…” he circles his thick, reddish head over your quivering entrance, gliding over the glistening mess you’ve made. Coating around your puffy teasingly with every ribbon of his thick precum, “-seems like I wasn’t the- hah- only one all desperate n’ shit for you.” That sinful scar positioned on his lips grazes jaggedly against yours in a lazy kiss, “Missed me, woman?”
You’re rolling your eyes, “Real rich coming from-” And Toji can’t do anything but watch when your hand dips down between your two pressed-up bodies to wrap around his fat hilt. He throws his head back, swearing when you just slot his leaky tip between your swollen folds. Sensitive and so swelteringly hot. “-the same man that almost broke down my door at two in the m-morning because he missed me too much, Toji.”
Fuck- fuck, Toji doesn’t think he even heard whatever just came out of your mouth. No, he was way too busy trying not to fucking pass out. Humping you pathetically as if in heat now, gulping at the dripping wet squelches from down below. Shit, his favorite song.
“Say it.” You’re feeling two of his thick palms come up to rest atop your head, lacing those thick fingers of his slowly. “Say my name again.”
It was almost endearing how tough he still tried to sound. Acting like his body wasn’t wracking with a jolting shudder every time you’re grinding your hips up in steady gyrations against his rock-hard cock.
“Say what now?” you purr, silky sweet. Peppering a lingering kiss against his forehead, his scar, only to have him bite down on your lower lip in warning. “Toji? The same Toji that was so mean to me - ignoring me for some stupid mission? The same big, bad Toji Fushiguro who took less than a week to crack-”
“M’sorry!” And usually you’d love to tease Toji more for the way he was cutting you off so much, but he just sounded like he was in utter wreck. Lips wobbling, a baritone ah! ah! ah! leaving with each sopping glissade of your cunt across his twitchy shaft. “There! I said it. Won’t- won’t miss another one of our hngh! d-dates for a job, m’kay? Fuck this sex ban- I’ll even answer your cute calls in the middle of finishing off a target if I have to just please-”
Ah, there it was.
The heady hallway - fuck, you two hadn’t even made it to the bed, yet - rings out with the soft thwack! of Toji’s heavy, cum-filled balls against your ass. Only increasing in volume with each greedier and greedier little half-thrust into your snug cunt.
“Ngh! Toji- Toji f-fuck.” you’re keening at the feeling of all the air in your lungs being thoroughly pushed out. “Y-you’re lucky you’re so convincing-”
And he feels so hot, dizzy head being flung back at the heavenly suck of your pussy swallowing him up. Being stretched so gapingly open, it’s like his girth is contorting your velvety walls to his very shape. Stretching you out so much, massaging your sweet spots without even trying, reaching for your very womb-
“Ha-ahh- so tight- fuck- no wonder I almost broke yer damn door down.” he’s breathing out. The words finally registering, “Is it me that’s convincing or is it-” His biceps bulge with effort, rippling as the vice-like restraint above you is pushing you down, down, down to his hold. “-is it this?”
You can’t even form an answer if you wanted to - because Toji was hunching over his hulking body to bully his fat cock into you in thorough, jagged ruts of his hips. Keeping you stuck in his vice-like hold, fully in the face of all his pressurized thrusts.
“What? Cat got yer- ngh tongue?” Toji smiles, smugly. Obscenely. “I missed your p-pretty voice just as much as this cunt, y’know? Why don’t ya use those words f’me, doll?”
Your entire body just jerks upwards when one of his soft palms plant back down on your clit, giving another simpering smack!
“Yes!” you’re spitting, and there’s such a supple satisfaction in Toji’s movements now. “M-missed this- missed you so much…”
“Tha’s fuckin’ right. Never gonna let ya forget it.” He’s grunting throatily at your answer, the soft, rounded pads of his fingers swirl over your stinging clit, eager to give another playful slap. He stills - and you whine, grinding down pleadingly. Exactly how he wanted it. “So why dontcha fuck back into me n’ show me, you lil’ tease?”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - 17 days
There’s a slow, syrupy puddle growing on your inner thighs - not between them, no, on top of them. Glossing down your skin in a milky ooze, Nanami’s red, achy cock right in the center of it all. Rubbing and grinding rawly between your thighs, he’s rutting forward like he’s out of control-
“M-my love.” Even those words sound so wrecked, Nanami’s soft baritone cracking, a few octaves higher than usual. “Are you- hah- doing okay?”
Your kiss-bitten pout makes his thick length jolt in interest, surging forwards to kiss them. “I am, Ken. Which is why I r-really want you to break the-”
“No!” he’s gasping, and there’s another harsh glissade of his glisteningly wet cock just across your puffed-up folds. Two firm hands hold your squirming hips still while he fucks your thighs even sloppier. Drowsy, almost. “No no no- we can’t. Don’t wanna overwork my gorgeous wife, sh-she’s already had such a long month at work, no?”
You shake your head stubbornly, pulling on the loosened end of his favorite speckled yellow tie to just drag Nanami even closer. “M’not-”
“But- the project-”
“Told you m’not overworked, okay, Ken?” Within only a few moments, you’ve got your trembly legs hooked around muscled hips, feeling his dick reach every single one of your hidden sweet spots and crannies with just the single inch he’s sinking in. Accidentally - but oh, an accident never felt so good. “Besides…e-even with this annoying new project, the month’s been even hah- longer because of this sex ban. I really, really miss you inside me–”
“Oh…better not have told me that.” He breathes into the crook of your neck, hiding away that rosy blush high on his cheeks. And before you can comfort your dear husband - or maybe make him even more flustered - he’s giving one, solid thrust into the depths of your awaiting cunt. Slowly. “After- after so long. Fuuuck- you shouldn’t have told me that.”
Giving a steady roll of his hips until you were just gasping at the sheer thickness. Nanami’s long girth leaving you spotless, swiveling his fat head easily against your g-spot.
“F-fuck-” he’s still muttering to himself, jaw clenched tight with all the strain of not devouring you whole after so long-
“So do it.”
Your words make him still in his unforgiving pace, cocking a head in confusion. The sight of him - all disheveled and blushing an innocent red, eyes drooped in pussydrunk pleasure, mouth parted sweetly - has you giggling. “Seriously- aww, Ken, you didn’t even realize you were talking out loud?” Your palms smooth their way over his blue button-up, too impatient to have stripped out of it. “Do it. Dontcha think the best ngh! de-stressor during a long work project would be this-”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence - and you didn’t have to. Because Nanami is doing exactly that.
“You’re not good f’me-” he draws a greedy thumb over your clit in tight, methodical circles. Pressing sweet peck after peck on your sagging open lips, “You have- no idea- how I- hah- was holdin’ back all this time.”
Each squelching thrust has the pool of cum and your saturated slick expanding ever-wider. Drenching into the once-fresh sheets, your skin, forming a creamy ring around his heft base. It stands out so starkly against the neat patch of blond and his red, red shaft.
“Seein’ you walking around the office in those godforsaken short skirts.” he growls, sharp gaze honing in on the mess of fabric in tatters on the floor. “Havin’ those interns making eyes at you- Meanwhile I couldn’t even fuck my cute wife.” All those frustrations he’s channeling into his hips, fucking you deeper and deeper into the bed, you swear in the morning you’d be able to see the markings of his tight balls against your ass, his v-line against your thighs. “All because of some shitty project I couldn’t give less of a shit about.”
“S’almost- hah-” you’re hiccuping when his thumb strokes even harder, matching his lewd pace. “-s’almost over anyway. And I al-already filed the-”
“My love…” Nanami gently cuts in, just quelling your worried excuses with another jittering ram of his hips. Pressing expertly into where he already knew would make you squeal. “-this cockblocking project is the last thing I wan’ hear about right now-” He’s sucking gently on your lips in a sloppy kiss - his favorite type - “-I’d much prefer to finally hear you cum-”
And this was so unlike your dear husband.
He was never this rough when throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, not giving you anything but a second to adjust before bending down, down, down to fold you into the meanest mating press possible. Never this hoarse with his words, wrenching out of his shot throat with each bludgeoning push into your cunt. Just ravaging you from the inside out.
Soon enough, it gets too much.
And Nanami’s pants turn into heaves, his pressurized cadence turn into nothing more than languid, sloppy ruts back and forth back and forth back and-
“K-Ken-” Your fingers find their way to his tie again - pulling so hard that it makes him lightheaded. So tight it cuts a red indent into his golden skin. “M’so close-”
You’d heard about the type of orgasms so sudden that you don’t even realize you’re having them. Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that you’re cumming. So hard, so aggressive, even that Nanami has to bite back his own groans.
Head falling backwards at how almost-difficult it was to drive into your snug cunt now, velvety walls constricting with pleasure. Milking him so fucking good- “Yeah- yeah fuck, choke me. Choke me while you cum, darling.”
In a split-second, the pads of Nanami’s fingers on your clit shove themselves between your lips. The honeyed cum and slick pooled thickly in a candied coat that makes you throb.
“That s’for not hngh! telling me sooner about the project almost being done. And this-” It’s followed by a gentle peck to your forehead, and an absolutely not gentle twitch of his weepy cock inside you. His fingers tighten inside your mouth, yours tighten around his tie, “-is for all the overtime m’gonna hafta make up for.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - 8 days
It’s been too long - way too long. A week- fuck, maybe more?
Geto doesn’t know, can’t even think right now with the way each and every slow, smooth glissade of your puffed-up pussy down his long shaft have him losing his mind let alone his train of thought. Gritting his teeth, he tugs even tighter around the cool leather restrain pinning him down to the plush bed, “Th-this has already gone on for a week- hngh- don’t you think that’s enough teasing, gorgeous?”
Fuck him and his stubborn streak.
“Over a week of you giving me the cold shoulder, Sugu?” Oh your saccharine sweet hum is enough for the curve of his cock to twitch up. Bumping lewdly against your clit, “I think m’being more than generous.”
Your leader’s dark brows knit even deeper in frustration, the need bleeding into those heaving shudders of his. “Aww, c-come on—” And if you didn’t know any better you’d have said that Geto Suguru was whining - whining. The headboard rattles loudly when he pulls, “Y’know I didn’t mean it- was jus’ a lil’ lesson because y’d-didn’t finish your duties as my second-in-command. I already give you ‘nough pretty privilege, don’t I?”
“Oh yeah?” you’re huffing, leaning forward until he gets the perfect view of your perky tits. Geto can’t help the way his tongue lolls out to suckle gently on your nipples. Handsome cheeks hollowing out with each swirling movement. “And I’m gonna give you a muzzle next if you don’t stop running that mean mouth.”
Shit, Geto blames it on not having you for a while now - fuck this sex ban - because he can already feel his weepy cock gush out in a fresh coat of syrupy precum. Steamy and sticky between your thighs, it was almost fucking embarrassing.
“Yes, ma’am.” he gasps out, sounding as disoriented as you looked right now. There’s a candied string of spit between his glossed-over lips and your tits that snaps around his almost leering smile. “Anything for you.”
If you felt his admission was mocking, then you didn’t say anything. And Geto was so fucking thankful, because just then you’re positioning his achy cock right at your slobbering entrance. Coating down his angry, angry shaft in your sweet juices before sinking down - slowly. So, so torturously slow.
“Fuck!” Geto’s biting his lip when your silky soft walls give an experimental squeeze, tugging the rest of him even deeper into your tight channel. Throwing his head back, lazily - this was heaven. “I’m so- C-can’t you hurry-”
“Nope.” you grin, popping the “p”. Your gyrating hips falter into stillness, until your filthy cunt’s just barely cockwarming him at this point. Hands ghosting up his flexing abs, the plans of his bulging pecs, up, up, up until they wrap so prettily around Geto’s milky throat. “Why dontcha do it yourself since you want it so bad, hm?”
Ah, he’s in love.
“Anything for you.”
Jaw tensing, his eyes are locked on the way your pussy lips part around him. Straddled and sat so prettily on top of him, he’s planting his feet onto the silken sheets without a second thought. Long fingers intertwining deftly with the chain on those cuffs, leveraging you just right and-
Snap!
Both of you gasp in surprised synchronization when those expensive handcuffs - custom-made, mind you - shred easily. Raising your eyes to look at Geto and- oh, fuck. You were fucked.
“That wasn’t on the plan but…” his dark eyes glint with such a predatory spark, plump lips curling into an easy smirk. He soothes over the stinging red where he’d been held, greedy gaze locked on you. And only you. “...neither was havin’ my cute lil’ assistant tie me up, hm?”
In all of two seconds, you’re just being slammed down onto the hard ridges of Geto’s defined hipbones. Bruises sure to blossom up on your skin when his two rough palms grab a ravenous handful of your ass. Reeling your pliant body up, up, up till the very tip of his velvety cock kissed teasingly at your hole, and down.
“O-oh!” Your hands come down to his sculpted chest, skin heated against his soft puffs of breath. And it’s just about all you can manage to get out, mouth salivating at all of the thick inches of him filling you up, so dreadfully bullying with his thrusts.
“Shit- shit shit shit, fuckin’ missed this. Must’ve had a lotttt of fun hngh! playing around with your leader, huh?” Geto lingers in hot pecks at the corners of your eyes, tasting the salty sting of your tears. “Treatin’ me like I was second-in-command. Did it get you wet, gorgeous?”
He’s leaning back to get a better view of the way your pussy was being split open, glistening and winking up at him. “Yeahhh, it sure did- jus’ look at you. You’ve been hating this petty sex ban as much as I have.”
Just the thought is enough to have whatever blood is left in his body to rush even more feverishly into his painful cock. Bulbous tip blushing a rosy red, his ravaged cock gushes sensitively with hot precum after so long, growing even girthier inside you.
You’re whining at the feeling of your already-contracted walls being stretched even more like elastic around him. “I- I did-”
He fucks out whatever poor cry is on the tip of your tongue with a harsh thrust, arching into a perfect curve of his body against yours.
“Awww, I know, pretty girl. I know–” Geto soothes, gliding away your glossy pout with his thumb, before pressing such a tauntingly sweet sweet kiss. “N’ we’ve gotta make up for th-those hah! eight days, right?” At your barely-lucid nod, he only grins wider. Fuck yeah, he missed this. And he’s never letting you out of his sight. “And afterward- we can talk about a little ah- promotion, how about that?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - 2 days
“Just the tip.” Choso’s hushing hotly against your ear later into the night, eyes double-checking at his locked door before rutting his hot, hefty erection against the globes of your ass. “Just the- hah- tip, baby please. Feels like m’gonna die if I don’t get just a feel of your cute cunt already.”
It’s only been two days visiting his family, and Choso feels like he’s just about ready to burst. All those soft moments babying his little brother, those stupid lil’ jokes from his uncle about adding another Itadori to the family - they were swirling up inside his hazy mind and flowing straight to his achy cock. Rock-hard and leaking saturated precum all over the back of your soft cotton sleep shorts.
Choso wanted you - and he wanted you now.
“Baby…” his drowsy kiss drags along your lips. A calloused hand comes up under your leg to slot his achy cock between them, rubbing and grinding in smooth, slow gyrations. Shuddering, “Don’t care if we’re loud I- hah- r-really just wanna fuck a baby into ya.”
“Shh shhh, go ahead, Cho.” you giggle, whirling over your shoulder to teasingly peck at the tip of his nose. “But jus’ the tip, m’kay?”
Your sweet boyfriend’s nodding before you’re even finishing your sentence, not having the patience to even take your pajamas off. Just hooking a long, pale finger along the side of the fabric, throwing his head back against the pillows to take an even close look at the gloss of slick sticking to your inner thighs.
“O-oh, baby. My baby–” his deep voice cracks. Biting back guttural groans when the very flushed thick tip of his cock dips so perfectly around the corner of your sopping slit. Frantically, he claps a hand over his loud moans, “Just…just the tip. Right?”
Whether he was asking you or whether he was asking himself you have no idea. Because Choso wasn’t wasting even a millisecond more, he’s rubbing in velvety glides at your swollen folds. So dripping wet that it takes him a few whimpering grinds to bully his fat head at your hole without sliding right across. Slowly.
“Shit- missed this. J-juuust-” he’s heavily panting, kissing down your spine with each inch after fucking inch massaging inside your gummy walls. Throbbing heavily because shit, it might not have been long - but it’s felt like forever. “-the- the-”
Choso’s blabbering words only slur out even more through the gaps in his fingers, honeyed tone becoming more simpering. And you could count the hitches in his breath, the shake in his thighs when he’s disappearing between your legs. After not having you for a whole two days, he was pussydrunken already.
“Something wrong, baby?” you purr, tugging on his long strands of hair, now damp with sweat. “You look tense.”
“Tense?” Choso gasps, voice pitched up higher than usual with disbelief. “Wh-what are you ah- shit, don’ squeeze me like that- what are you t-talking about, m’not tense.”
But your smug smirk only tugs wider at the jittery way his free hand locks onto the small of your waist. Pushing and pulling in a sultry pace, massaging your snug channel with the upwards curving divot on the very tip of his cock. Feeling just the very peak of that prominent vein he has down his creamy middle.
“Are you sure?” you hum, hearing him outwardly gulp. And you know that you should go a little easy on him - your poor boyfriend did just spend the entire weekend being cockblocked by his family, after all. You know you should be mindful of the soft creaking of the bed, the ever-growing groans wrenching from Choso. “I would much rather you just-” Your nails leave ravaged red trails down his milky thighs “-breed me the way you’ve been wanting to these past two days, Cho.”
Oh, Choso could cry, he could moan, he could cum.
And - tears pricking at his dewy, dark eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment - that’s exactly what he does. You’re letting out a mewl at the feeling of Choso’s sweltering hot tip just gliding across the spongy bottom of your cervix. Glossing over your insides with a thick coat of his cum, dredge after dredge of creamy white that fill you up so much. Seeping down through the corners of your sloppy hole and forming a milky ring around the tufts of black at his hilt. “Fuck- fuck m’blamin’ being cockblocked from this heavenly pussy f’this.”
“Fuck! Wasn’t even that long, Cho. I can ah- feel you all the way-” Your fingers slide up to about halfway at your stomach, pressing down on that familiar nudging divot, “-here.”
That’s all it takes for his weepy cock to just gush more spurts of seed again. Again and again and again- Immediately, his large hand covers your mouth, fully muffling those pretty moans.
“F-fuck, pretty- m’y dad is j-just hah- the door over.” he’s almost bawling out, hips uncontrolled with the way he’s rutting up in deep, thorough pushed of his slender hips. “So loud.” But Choso makes no move to quieten either of you. Crashing his lips into yours to let your sweetened moans vibrate away into his mouth, heavy balls smacking against your skin in a heady thwack! thwack! thwack! “So messy.”
You feel so sluggish being stuffed to the very brim like this, limbs aching with how close Choso was pinning you back against his muscled chest. There’s only so much that your cunt can take before it’s spreading out into a messy puddle below you two, adding to the gripping squelches. Shit, you two were definitely facing hell tomorrow - namely, a too-smug Sukuna.
“Baby…” Choso drags out, in a way you already knew didn’t bode well. Two of his fingers swipe at the mess beading out, “Since m’being so loud…why don’t I busy my mouth with something else?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 5 hours (but he won’t admit it)
That pretty pout of yours was too irresistible, the way you’d kissed him goodbye too sultry - Sukuna knew your game.
And here - teeth gritted, thighs bouncing in frustration under the table, anger flaring when his court meeting drags onto around the fifth consecutive hour - he also knew he was playing right into it.
Yeah, fuck that.
Which is why there isn’t even a shred of regret in his smirk when he finally reaches his breaking point - a click of his fingers and he’s no longer in the royal meeting room. Instead, nestling up to your side at his chambers, smothered amongst all the expensive silken sheets.
Not even the tiniest speck of embarrassment in his next words to you, “On all fours, brat.”
“Kuna- you’re back- fuuuck-” your honeyed moans sound out over the way he had one large hand smushing you deeper and deeper into the cushiony pillows. “-you’re back e-early?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t have anything to hngh! do with it, woman.” he spits, and the mattress dips when he’s hiking up a powerful thigh. Using the leverage to pressurize each jarring, determined little half-thrust inside your gaping hole. “Teasing n’ toying with your king. You’re hah- r-real brave for a lil’ human y’know that?”
You’re whining, “A-all it took was f-five hours of a sex ban-”
Another one of his big, beefy arms swipe down your arched spine, dipping down to spread open your puffed-up folds even more. “Silence.”
So what if the king of curses couldn’t last five hours without your pretty pussy? Was that a crime?
The vice-like grip on your head was forcing your bleary gaze down to where he was feeding your cunt with each of his massive inches. Two absolutely engorged cocks with twin reddish tips, glossing all over your poor entrance with matching gushes of hot precum. Just barely even halfway in - but you could already feel him bulging at your very stomach. “Heh…wouldya look at that. Didn’t even prep her as much as u-usual and she’s already this ready to take me. Are ya always such a slut?”
You can’t stop yourself from bowing even deeper into his hold, the upwards curve of your spine pushing you even closer to his stacked bases.
“Answer me.” His deep baritone snaps you out of your little haze, and two hands prop you even closer. You could feel every heated gust of his words against the shell of your ear, “Speak, if you don’ wanna displease your king, little human.”
And oh Sukuna can’t deny that stirring pride in his chest when your jumbled-out words spill out, body trembly, needy - but still so eager to please him.
“I- I just-” Your breath hitches wetly in your chest when one of his four hulking arms dip downwards, toying with your swollen clit between two thick fingers. It takes a branding smack! to the fat of your ass to remember what you were trying to say again. “-just knew I was gonna miss you at the meeting today, Kuna.”
And if the way he jolted inside you wasn’t an answer - the raw divots of his cocks jostling inside you to crash into your g-spot - Sukuna gasps - gasps. Voice so simperingly silken when he asks, “You missed me?”
You’re nodding - but that isn’t enough for him, fuck it might never be.
In retaliation, your pussy is being gifted with another few of his long thrusts. Two hands tightening roughly around your waist to keep his pretty girl from escaping.
“Like I said- u-use your hngh- words, doll.” Followed by such a mean bump of both rounded curves of his fat cockheads against your g-spot, making you cry out in your sweetened voice that he loved so much. “Clearly you’ve still got the voice, heh-”
The royal bed is creaking so loudly that Sukuna has half the mind to wonder whether the fools in the meeting room not too far away could hear. Ah, fuck them. Right now he couldn’t care less about anything other than you.
“I did miss you.” you’re mewling, big fat tears pricking at your eyes each time he’s drilling in. “Missed you so much, Kuna.”
There’s a sudden, sloppy squelch! And before you know it, he’s buried all the way in until the sensitive skin of your ass rubbed rawly against those rough patches of pink at his toned pelvis, Sukuna’s heavy balls kissing snugly against your thighs.
“Ahh–” he’s heaving out, while you can do nothing but scramble towards the headboard, the sheets, anything. Peaking in the thumb rolling over your clit to take a good, long look at how your stuttering pussy was so obscenely stretched and molded around his cocks, all the way down to those ringed tattoos on his thick bases. Gapingly full. Doubly sucking him up. “Fuck the sex ban- beats that stupid fuckin’ meeting tha’s for sure.”
And you didn’t know whether it was possible to forget how big Sukuna truly was in just five hours. Because his every throb only seems to drive him even deeper against your cervix, thickening so maddeningly to stretch out your insides.
“Yeah yeah- atta girl. Take it all- fuck, take it all f’me.” He croons through your high, squelching movements only speeding up. There’s an element of such raw, primal need in what he does, like he’s just dragging out every dredge of pleasure out of you. You’re just gulping when a hand makes its way into your black-tinged vision, wrapping snugly around your throat to pull you backwards against his every ram. “Now, let’s see if this pretty pussy can squirt before they come around tryna find me for the meeting.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - 15 minutes
“Sweetheart-” Gojo whines, rosy lips downturning into the most perfect pout you’d ever seen. “Sweetheart please- I know I was-”
“Stupid? Impulsive?” you’re rolling your eyes, despite the vice-like hold he had on you. Sitting you down so prettily on his lap, manspread as far as his office chair would allow him. “An absolute idiot?”
Fuck, at that last insult, Gojo’s cock only hardens impossibly inside your gummy walls. Marking out each and every divot and vein down his furious shaft, he throws his head back with a groan at the taut feeling of your clingy walls being stretched all around him.
“Seriously?” you’re gasping, to which he only curls his lips up into the most unabashed grin.
Not even a moment later, he’s bouncing his thighs, jostling you precariously on top of his frame. It makes your hips just squeeze downwards in smooth, swiveling gyrations that massage his throbbing cockhead. “Aw come on- I take back what I said about No Nut November can we just-”
“Yeah? After what-” Your eyes dart over your shoulder towards the clock at the very end of the room, “-fifteen minutes? You dragged me all the way out of a meeting after only that? Come on, Toru, you’ve gotta make to at least twenty-”
“Please.”
You’re pausing in surprise, and that’s the last thing that Gojo wanted right about now. So with a huffed-out groan, he’s back to placing two greedy palms that smooth over the curve of your hips, up and down up and down. Soothing you over for when he just rams you down recklessly on his achy cock.
He bites up the column of your neck, all the way up to that sweet spot at your earlobe. “Already said the magic word, didn’t I?” Before using all of his inhuman core strength to bounce you all the way down in another thorough thrust. “What? Wan’ me to say pretty please, my girl?”
The strongest was just begging at your feet, because laced with his tease was a very real, nervous tremor. Voice lilting up higher than normal, drunken eyes darting between your own and the very obvious little grind of his pulsing length.
Buried so brandingly inside you, like he wanted to make you memorize him from the inside out. Body bowed into yours like it hurt to be apart more than just a few millimeters, he was stuck against your side. Only pushing deeper and deeper and-
“I’ll- I’ll make it to twenty minutes next time-” he giggles deliriously, already tinged with such smugness. “Maybe even thirty- please- please just’, fuck- need your cute cunt.”
And you were a strong sorcerer in your own right - but seated like this, Gojo definitely had the advantage. He was still so much taller, so much broader, muscles rippling through the thin fabric of his black t-shirt. Biceps bulging out with each stuttering slam into your hips, it’s like he wanted to be as sloppy as possible.
To have your cunt drooling down every inch of his angry, red cock glistening a sweet sweet coat of juices with every single squelch. It drips down from where your skirt was bunched up, down onto the wooden floors. Shit, you definitely weren’t going back to the meeting like this.
“So wet, huh?” He smiles, a snowy brow rising at the sight. And Gojo’s tall frame sags even deeper down his steadfast chair to get an even better long, swallowing deeply. “Damn- you’re makin’ me so thirsty, sweetheart.”
You smack his chest, “S-so filthy, Toru.” But you can’t hide the slight moan in your scolding, the way your clit grows even more heated - and he notices, of course.
“I got you- I got you, girl.” He rolls an eager thumb right over where you wanted him the most, bringing a kiss over towards the underside of your jaw, your cheeks, your mouth. “N’ of course m’ filthy- what’d you expect?” Gojo’s free hand occupies itself with guiding your cunt down at a maddening pace. Squelching so loud that times like this he was thankful for six eyes, for all the amplified sounds of your huffs and cunt clamping down around his girthy cock. His next words are whispered against your tongue, “M’the fucker that couldn’t last fifteen minutes without your pretty pussy, of course.”
He’s not even waiting to ask at this point - he’s already lost, he’s already broken the sex ban but fuck, did defeat feel so sweet.
There’s a stuttering squelch, your slick glossing down his entire wrist when Gojo’s fingers sped up on your poor clit. Circling and tugging teasingly, his fingers were so deftly making you writhe.
It simply makes your toes curl, white-hot pleasure sparking behind your eyes with each unwavering clash into your g–spot. And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d be almost embarrassed at how it only takes a few clamoring rummages at your insides, a few steadfast thrusts right into the bullseye of your sweet spots, before you’re cumming and cumming so hard it makes you gasp.
“Fuck-” Your nails dig ferociously into Gojo’s strong wrist, stationed on one side of your waist, fucking downwards to meet his sloppy staccato. “Fuck fuck fuck- m’cumming- m’cumming, Toru–”
“Heh, easy girl.” he jests, dragging his plump lips down the sensitive side of your neck. “Made fun of me f’being so needy but look at you.” Running his pretty mouth a mile a minute, you could tell he’s nearing the end of his sanity, as well. Each sensitive twitch of his long shaft massaging deeper and deeper into your g-spot. “Cum f’me then- fuck- cumming- cum.”
Your velvety walls are just milking each of his gummy thrusts, gripping onto you through each and every wave of pleasure. Bolts of electricity zap through your veins, and Gojo’s flinging his eyes shut, mouth parting to groan out your name with each spurt of his thick, potent cum. Over and over-
“Fuck- fuck, yeah tha’s right.” he slurs, a hand just slamming down on his nearby desk. Like he wanted to break. To ruin. Whispering against your ear, “Now how about we go a few more times to see if I can make twenty minutes without this pretty pussy next time?”
“Thirty.”
“Deal.”
A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely week <3
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Thank you, Gege Akutami, for sexualizing men so I can follow in your footsteps.
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