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#jjk fic
satoruluvies · 2 days
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aftercare
the jjk men and their services after an intense session.
nsfw + allusions to sex and suggestive themes.ᐟ minors do NOT interact.
includes: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji and sukuna
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this was a challenge doing it as an smau but since it was a req i pulled thru... i think :')
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tonycries · 4 hours
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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
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“You’ve never what?”  
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh. 
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?” 
Shit. 
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click! 
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah. 
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 
“I don’t know what you-”
“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl. 
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
*Fushiguro has left the chat*
Dad: :0
-Jin.
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A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.
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lymtw · 19 hours
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Toji watching as you're being buttered up, sweet talked, and undressed with unfamiliar eyes, right in front of him.
His eyes don't waver from your face as you politely smile at the half drunk man on Toji's right side. The man is slurring on and on about how you're incredibly easy on the eyes, and how you stand out even in the minimal lighting of the bar, while you just laugh and try to leave the conversation by disengaging, but once again, you're roped into talking with the man when he asks if you're single.
You would have said no voluntarily, but the question clearly struck a nerve with Toji. His hand went to the small of your back, his palm circling the area slowly. It wasn't that he was insecure, he could tell you loved him from the million times you said it a day, but it was his secure claim on you.
You looked at Toji for the first time in a minute, meeting his blown pupils with attentive eyes. You could see how irked he was by this man continuing to hit on you, and you knew that Toji would get knuckles bloody if you didn't say what you knew in your heart.
You kept your eyes on his, like you were being let into his thoughts. He was dead serious, not a glimpse of light in his eyes. You didn't want him to feel this way, so in an attempt to bring the slightest amount of comfort, you put your hand on his, squeezing with reassurance. After a few seconds of silent communication, he nodded towards the man who awaited your response.
You leaned forward again and told the stranger that you were happily taken by the handsome devil sitting beside you, pointing your thumb in Toji's direction. Toji turned and gave the guy a once over, confidence cascading over him at knowing that if push came to shove, he could rock this guy's shit. His menacing demeanor radiated off of him, making the man obviously uncomfortable. He was now being sized up by someone with much colder eyes. He nervously nodded at Toji, the action not reciprocated by the latter.
The man leaned forward, like he was going to start talking to you again, so Toji turned his attention back to you. He didn't need to keep an eye on him because the man was blocked off by him. Now, if the douchebag were to walk over to your side it would be another story, but Toji would keep him in check until he tried.
You take a sip of your soda water, some of it seeping down the corner of your lip when you hear the man address you again. Toji was quick to wipe the liquid off your face with his thumb, suppressing a grin at the small "sorry", you muttered to him. You were clearly fed up with this man who just wouldn't let up. Toji could see it in the way your eyes rolled every time you had to lean forward and look past him to look at the stranger again. Your audible sigh was the last straw. No one as grimy as this mole rat looking man should have the power to ruin your time out.
Just as Toji turned to face the man again, he grabbed his belongings and stood up, getting lost in the crowd of people around you. Toji was vibrating with adrenaline, his heart pumping in his ears from holding himself back. He had to remind himself that he wasn't out alone anymore like he was used to be. The last thing he wanted was for you to be scared and cry because he decided to make a scene and rip someone's face off.
You on the other hand looked socially exhausted, your head down on the counter.
"Baby," Toji coos, leaning in so that you can hear him. "I just can't take you anywhere, can I?" His hand goes to your head, his fingers running through your hair. "People see you, and they really can't help making assholes of themselves."
"I just wanna go home, Toji," you mumble, holding your hand out to receive the car keys. Instead, he takes your hand, pulling you up and onto your feet.
"Like hell. I'm driving." His hand is on your lower back as you step away from the bar. It goes down into the right butt pocket of your shorts, as he guides you through the crowd in search of the exit.
"You sure you're okay to drive?" You ask, looking up at him.
"I'm sober as a nun, baby." He grins at the little giggle you let out. He knew it was your turn to drive home this time, but he just wanted to lift your mood again after that dickhead drained it.
"You were eating up that loser's attention, weren't you?" Toji asks, side eyeing you then looking back at the road.
"It was nice for two seconds," you respond, looking out the window. "It's always nice to be considered attractive by others."
"So, i'm chopped liver, huh?" He smirks, glancing at you again. You don't respond, so he decides to cool it with the jokes. "It feels good until you start getting unwanted attention. Don't let dumbasses like that make you uncomfortable, mama." Toji's hand goes to your thigh, three squeezes to the plush to comfort you, this time. "Was about to murder the man, but he ran away like a coward." He side eyes you when he hears that intoxicatingly sweet laugh again. "Oh, that's funny?" He asks, a smirk on his face.
"You're insane," you laugh.
"Don't act like you don't love it."
Once Toji pulls into the driveway of your house, he has his intentions clear in mind. He's gonna show you how much he appreciates you. After all, you deserve it for knowing him so well and putting up with him. It's incredible that you know when he's not okay, but also when he's having a really good day, just by looking into his eyes.
You both exit the car, Toji quickly catching up to you on the other side. His hands rest on your hips as you walk, causing you to turn around and look at him.
"Face forward or you'll crash," he says, as you near the front door of your house. He pulls out his copy of your house key, swiftly unlocking the door.
You're glad Toji has a spare to your house. Who knows how many times the door would have been replaced had you not given him one. You have a habit of taking long naps, and because of it, you quickly learned that if you leave his messages unanswered for too long, he will show up at your door and knock aggressively until you answer. There was always the 'next time i'm kicking it down by the third try' comment when you finally opened the door, so you gave him the spare to avoid that scenario.
You walk ahead to your bedroom as Toji secures your house. He locks the front door, shuts the windows, and pulls down the shades before meeting you in the room.
He leans against the doorframe of your bedroom, and allows his eyes to rake over your body as you lay there like a starfish with your limbs extended.
"You gonna make room for me or what?" He asks, walking into the room.
You cross your legs together and throw your arms over your face. "Is that enough space for you? Or should I roll onto the floor to make more room?"
"Uh-uh. Nah, baby." Toji chuckles, reaching the end of your bed. He crawls towards you, effortlessly pulling your legs apart. "You're not gonna try this attitude with me. I haven't done anything to you, so put the brat away before I do it for you."
Your heart races at the threat, and you wonder if it's real, so you spare a glance at him from beneath your forearm. Contrary to his stern words, his hands are touching your skin so delicately. His fingers trace the harsh indentations the straps of your high heel left above your ankle.
"The cost of looking so fine all the time," he mutters, under his breath. You reacted like a child, only wincing at the pain once Toji paid attention to it. You didn't spare a second thought when you undid the buckles on your heels, opting to throw yourself on the bed immediately after they were off, but suddenly you needed Toji to make it stop hurting.
Toji kisses the damage, his hand wrapped around your ankle, loosely. "My own little shard of heaven," he hums into your skin. Your arms fell beside you on the bed as you admired the image before you—Toji's very high functioning attempt at healing you.
It was a welcome change, compared to the usual effect he had on you. Being Toji's lover turned you into a flammable substance, and he ignited you. He did everything he could to make his touch your greatest weakness, and now flames rise within you every time his hands meet your skin. Your body emanates heat when he trains your flammability with lingering touches.
This time was much different.
He was the chemical that put out forest fires, he was a breath blowing out a candle, he was soothing water.
He moves up your body, his lips trailing your shin before reaching your knee. His gaze meets your twinkling one. If he looks long enough, he can locate stars in your eyes. It's something that motivates him to keep going.
He takes up the space between your legs, his hand hooked into the waistband of your shorts. His fingers fiddle with the metal button and quickly undo it, pulling the zipper down before he leans forward to kiss you. You can feel the button to his jeans on your stomach, the warm metal heating up even more as it rubbed against your skin.
He chuckles, holding himself above you. "Feeling it, too, huh?"
You run your hands up his chest and the sides of his neck, before going up one more time to cup his face. You pull him closer, allowing your lips to lock with his again. Toji could tell you wanted to devour him by the way you held onto him so tight. Your hands balled up the back of his shirt into your fists, your thighs squeezing his hips.
He breaks the kiss, looking straight into your dilated pupils while you catch your breath. It was precious seeing you this way, so needy that your body started reacting on it's own. "You know, i'm always feeling you, princess," he murmurs to you, his face inches away from yours. "Want you all the time... It's almost ridiculous how often I think of fucking you." His lips press to the corner of your lips, tracing your jawline afterwards. "I say almost ridiculous because..." his lips go further, now beneath your ear, "it's my business, and I don't care."
You giggle at his attitude, your eyes shut as you thread your fingers through his hair. His breath reaches your earlobe, bringing goosebumps to your skin. "You don't care?" You repeat.
His eyes are lidded when he leans back to look at you again. "Not one fuck is spared for anything but you, ma." His hands go down to the bare skin your unbuttoned shorts revealed, feeling up the soft warmth of your waist. You squirm slightly at the roughness of his hands combined with his lustful gaze on you.
"I've got my eyes on you anytime you're in a room, got that?" He says, bowing down to kiss below your bellybutton. He looks at you through his lashes, seeing the small nod you respond with. "Do you get it or not?" He murmurs into your skin. "Gotta give me more, pretty girl."
"I know," you respond, propping yourself on your elbows to nervously meet his green eyes.
"Good. You don't take shit from anyone but me. Am I clear?"
You laugh, letting yourself fall back on the bed again. Your sudden fit of laughter brings a smirk onto Toji's face as he continues to kiss your lower body. You compose yourself, before responding to his question. "Only you, Toji."
"Mhm," he hums, his lips grazing the lace trimming of your panties. You lift your hips to let him roll the material of your shorts and underwear down. Your legs come up to kick them off. Toji sighs, "I know you wouldn't do me dirty, ever. You're too sweet. Practically incapable, mama." Your thighs became victims to his lips. Your delicate skin gained bright red blotches in uneven patterns, an act of worship from your lover.
You knew Toji this way—dominant and possessive. This was just the start, but even if he were to only mark up your lower body, you both know they're there. You'll think of him when you change your clothes, and if you don't mind them, a simple look in that direction from Toji will remind you.
"So wet, already." He can see the glistening of your arousal coated folds. "I've only been teasing you... and you're already this wet?" It's a rhetorical question. The sight has Toji practically zoning out, almost missing the flush on your cheeks from all the attention.
"Toji..." you whine, embarrased by the amusement he finds as he keeps observing you.
"Bless you, mama," he mutters, bringing his hands towards your cunt. The tip of his middle finger is the first part of him to make contact with your pussy. He glides it up and down once to see how much of your slick he can collect. You shudder at the contact, a sharp inhale lured from you.
"See that?" He holds his hand up, showing you the shiny coat on his middle finger. You look and in a split second you see him commit a heinous act, popping the finger into his mouth to suck off your juice.
"Jesus, Toji," you put your arms over your face again to hide the furious blush that ambushed it.
"Acting all disturbed when you know i'm about to put my mouth all over your pretty pussy."
You're in no place to argue when you know he's right, so you peek at him until you feel your nerves subside a little more.
"It's so perfect. Almost don't wanna make you cum." He stares at your glossy cunt, his eyes slowly trailing up your body to meet your flustered expression.
Your heart sinks. Toji was good at maneuvering his tongue. He's made you cum more times than you can count using just the muscle, so him telling you that you possibly weren't being given that option this time scared you a little.
"Could stay here forever... between these very pretty thighs." His hand caresses your one of them, his fingers splaying on it before squeezing the plush. "Say you'll let me edge you for hours, darling." He's asking out of courtesy. If he really wants to do it, there's no need to ask for permission.
"Toji," you laugh, dropping the smile when you don't see him laughing. "Please, no." You prop yourself on your elbows again, looking down at him.
"It'll be so good. Don't even worry your pretty little head." His hand presses against your stomach, signaling for you to lie down again. He goes back down, his gaze on your cunt again. He blows on it, watching you squirm at the gentle sensation. Something about the reactions makes him chuckle, lowly. You were so weak for him, you wouldn't last five minutes. With that in mind, his tongue peeks out, testing your reaction to it against your clit. Your hips push back against the mattress when the warmth meets you.
"Stay still," he says, before trying again. The tip of his tongue glides up from your entrance to your clit, eliciting a tremble from your thighs. He smirks to himself at the sound of your quiet breaths. Another stripe is traced between your folds, a more audible moan leaving you. Your thighs falter in their ability to stay open.
"What did I just say, ma? Stay still." He pries your legs open again and hooks his arms around your thighs. Won't tell you again. I'll bring out the rope next time you interrupt me."
"I-I can't do this, Toji," you say, your nervousness clear in your gaze.
"You've barely given me a chance, and you're already a nervous wreck?" He kisses your thigh, the act somewhat settling your nerves. "Just wanna play with you... and ruin you..." Toji can feel his cock throbbing more with every second that he holds back from devouring you. "...and make you cry from how bad you wanna cum. That too much to ask for?"
"N-No, I guess no-"
"Good," he cuts you off, a grin on his face. "Just lay there and look pretty. Take everything with grace like the good girl I know you are."
You sigh, not prepared for the next couple hours you would have to withstand.
"Wanna cum?" Toji asks for the nth time that night, a twisted smile on his face while he steadily curls two fingers inside of you. Your legs tremble in your mind fucked daze, your cunt messily covered in slick and Toji's saliva. You know the answer he's gonna give you and yet you still respond with the remaining ability you have to think.
"P-Please..." you hiccup, a fresh stream of tears falling down your cheeks to accumulate with the ones that already dried. "Can I?" you attempt to sit up, your abdomen trembling as you bend slightly before falling back. "Please, Toji?" Your chest caves in with a deep breath as you try to suppress a sob.
"No," he simply says, slowly pulling his fingers out of your pulsing cunt. With all the slick that webbed onto them, he was sure you would cum so quickly if he didn't manage his pace. He sighs, fascinated by the texture of the sticky fluid on his fingers. "Poor thing," he coos, as if his boxers aren't drenched with a significant amount of precum. "You look angelic when you cry for me." His hand strokes your thigh while he peppers kisses onto the other one.
You breathe shakily when you feel his hand getting close to your pussy again. "Ready to go again?" He asks, a sly grin on his face when he meets your glossy eyes.
"Toji..." you swallow, shaking as he narrows his focus on your ruined cunt.
"Hm?" He hums, dizzy on his own obsession with making you beg for something he doesn't want to give you just yet.
"Please, I can't wait anymore. You're killing me."
Toji didn't mean to take it this far, at first. He solely intended to make you feel loved after seeing the switch in your demeanor at the bar. He was gonna kiss up your body and whisper his favorite things about you while he made love to you. Then he was between your legs and you were looking down at him with that warmth in your eyes, visually proving that you loved him to death, so he decided it was best to break you instead. He had to make your eyes roll into the back of your head.
"You can handle it. You're my good girl, and you know this gets me off, so you're gonna take it, right?"
Once again, you're left with no chance of refusing. What's another while of not being able to cum?
Toji was lapping at your cunt like you were fading away and he would never get to taste you again. He was relentless with your clit, pointing his tongue in order to abuse it with precision.
"A-Ah, fuck...Toji," you whimpered. "Please... please, Toji, please. Can I..."
"Mmm..." Toji hums, sucking on your clit. He's ignoring your pleas for mercy, too enveloped in your sweetness to think about your aching need to cum. He knows you want it, and little do you know that he's getting it to you.
"Wanna cum, baby?" He asks you one more time, his middle finger teasing your entrance.
"Uh-huh."
"Use your words, mama. Try that again." It doesn't help that he's thumbing at your clit, rubbing slowly, causing you to stutter and your thoughts to fall through.
"Y-Yes, please," you respond, shuddering afterwards. "Please, make me cum."
His fingers reentered you, immediately curling and abusing the sensitive spot hidden within you. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it with that devilish pointed tongue. You were completely ruined by the time you came. Toji pulled his fingers out of you, in favor making out of with your pussy, his lips gliding up and down your slit as you vibrated beneath him. You fisted the sheets beneath you, loud, broken moans leaving you as wave after wave of pleasure was inflicted onto your core.
"T-Toji!" You moaned, whimpering as he continued to devour you. Your juices covered the lower half of his face, dripping down his chin, and onto the collar of his shirt. Your thighs clamped around his head and your hand pulled at his dark locks as you rolled your hips against his face until you couldn't stand it anymore. "Oh god... oh fuck!" you pant. "N-No more, no more, Toji." Your thighs are shut tightly around his head, barely working to get him to stop.
He unlatches from your clit with a pop, his hands coming up to pull your thighs apart. You look at him through heavy, lidded eyes. His lips are glossy with your cum on them, his chin was dripping in it as well. After a minute of just listening to your heavy breathing, Toji climbs up your body again, your sensitive cunt twitching at the feeling of his jeans brushing up against it. His hands go to the sides of your head, sparing him stability so he lean down and kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips and his tongue as the flavor is distributed between your mouths.
He breaks the kiss, his face still inches away from yours. "You taste that, right?"
"Mhm," you mumble, lightheaded from your lack of breath.
"I can have that taste in my mouth whenever I want. Aren't you jealous?"
"Mm... no, 'cause you can always share it with me. Put some of it on my tongue. Some mouth to mouth action..." you spare a lazy grin for Toji
He chuckles. "That was a once in a lifetime thing, doll. I'm all for sharing anything with you, but that's all for me."
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lxvebun · 2 days
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challenge accepted!♡
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synopsis: you're surprised when you find out he has not had his first kiss yet, you're even more surprised when he lets you be the one to change that aka your first kiss with Satoru<3
content: Gojo Satoru x gender neutral reader. Fluff!. Written with the highschool arc/satosugu friendship in mind so you'd be in the same grade together, but you can read it however you wish♡ Detailed descriptions of kissing. Around 650 words. Eng is not my first language. Not entirely proofread, lmk if there are any annoying mistakes♡
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He's the strongest around, the Gojo Satoru! He has everything he could want and he doesn't have to prove anything to anyone. He doesn't have to but he does enjoy doing so.
So when you and Suguru teamed up against him, giggling oh so cruelly because here he was spouting out dating advice, saying that Geto will turn into a "grumpy old man" if he continues to reject people's advances, when he hasn't even had his first kiss yet, he knew he had to fix that♡
⁎⁺˳✧༚໒꒱.*
"You don't have much of a say seeing as you haven't kissed, let alone dated anyone yet, Satoru.~" Suguru replies, voice still as gentle as always even when he's dealing with his best friend's nonsense.
You're not entirely sure why your heart skipped a beat at the revelation. Sure it's unexpected given Gojo's flirty nature and good looks, but it's igniting a feeling of something almost hopeful in your heart....you don't like him that, not at all, right? So why is the image of him pulling you in by your waist and dipping down to lock his lips against yours fogging over your mind?
You've gone quiet for a bit as you hoped to make sense of what you're feeling, not unperceived by your friends sitting next to you
"Y/n?" They speak at the same time. You miss the shared glance of concern
You're glad you can blame the afternoon sun for the sudden spark of warmth surging through your body.
"Sorry, yeah, I'm here" you reply a bit clumsily as you make the mistake of looking back at him and the words almost get stuck in your throat. he looks ridiculously handsome with the way his head is slightly tilted, enough to look at you over his glasses, blue eyes shining even brighter in the sunlight, and something as simple as that really shouldn't be as attractive as it is.
Just for a split second you see his eyes soften as he lets his gaze trace of your features before he nudges his glasses back in place and continues-
"You're supposed to back me up, you know?? Tell him!"
"There's nothing wrong with not having had your first kiss yet, Suguru" you say sweetly. Gojo visibly relaxes and that stupid infamous smirk forms on his lips as he nods along with your words. you stifle back a laugh as you continue, "Unless you're Gojo Satoru"
The flail of his arms is entirely dramatic and entirely in character. It's not helping that you can hear the snickering of Suguru beside him too.
He's quiet for a moment as he regains his composure, one of his arms now draped behind you along the bench. He takes his glasses off and hangs them on the collar of his shirt.
"Alright"
.....
"Alright?"
Your body registers it before your brain does, heart fluttering in your chest, a hitch in your breath as he leans in. He's close, but he doesn't close the gap just yet. You can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks and his intoxicatingly good, probably extremely expensive cologne envelops the rest of your senses, makes you a little dizzy as all you see, hear, and feel is him but he allows you enough space to back away if this is not what you desire.
Perhaps your heart already knew what you're mind was just trying to catch up to. You have fallen in love. Fallen in love with Satoru of all people.
You're sure that at least a minute has passed since he leaned in but he doesn't falter and patiently waits until you do finally give him the smallest of nods and then it's over for you, you've fallen too deep now and you cannot and do not want to come back from this, from him.
the kiss is sweet, almost too sweet if you didn't have a sweet tooth that could battle Satoru's. And for a first kiss it's quite heavy, a little deeper and longer than you expected and it continues to linger warmly on your lips when he finally pulls away, face a little flushed, eyes bright, and smirking like he just won the lottery
"Now, listen, Suguru" he begins but you tune it out. Too focused on trying to calm the racing of your heart, too enamoured with the memory of his lips on yours
Gojo doesn't remove his arm from around your shoulder but his other hand has intertwined with yours as he draws heart shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb, silently letting you know this was more than him just trying to prove something, silently letting you know, he'd be yours if you'll have him♡
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Thank you for reading, angels!<3
I haven't written for jjk in such a long time😩 but I started season 2 and I want them to be HAPPY
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oddinary4bts · 2 days
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Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses
☆word count: 1.1k
☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.
They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.
“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.
“What?” he lets out.
“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.
“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”
Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”
Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.
But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.
“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”
Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”
“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”
Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?
“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.
“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”
“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”
Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.
So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.
Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.
His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.
Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.
Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone. 
You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.
You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.
“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.
It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.
“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.
His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.
Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.
You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.
“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.
Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.
You are… Taehyung’s sister.
You’re Y/n.
His best friend’s little sister.
The one thing Jungkook can’t have.
It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs. 
“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.
And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.
Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.
You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.
“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.
Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.
“Yes, please!”
Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.
Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.
“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”
And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.
“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.
How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted? 
He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.
☆☆☆☆☆
Chapter one coming on May 10th, 2024!
What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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bunny584 · 2 days
Text
For I Have Sinned ୨୧ Chapter II
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“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.” Songs of Solomon 8:6-7.
As newly appointed Duchess-To-Be, you have much to learn. Etiquette, conduct and eventual motherhood are the pillars you are expected to live by. Because who cares about your choosing?
The Chapel, tended to by a mercurial Priest, is the perfect refuge.
…right?
Pairing: Geto x female reader
A/N: The is dedicated to the artist ( @captainsalsaa ) I mean look at our fallen Angel. His tears. His frustration. Dear GOD.
To the artist: I stared at your piece, then heard a specific song on my writing playlist then wrote the entire last scene in one sitting. To date, it’s my favorite scene in my author’s portfolio. I hope I did our fallen Angel justice. Thank you for creating this 🤍
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CHAPTER II: Hello, Father.
“Awake early, little dove.” 
Warm hands caress your shoulders. A welcome contrast to the chilly nautical dawn. The sun still has a ways to go, but songbirds have begun their wake up call. 
“As are you, Arella.” 
Your eyes float to your favorite maiden standing above you. No more than a handful of years older, but with a heart for you as if she raised you from birth. 
“It’s my duty to tend to you, is it not?” 
Soft laughter harmonizes with the nightingales. A quick kiss on your forehead before her warmth disappears off the balcony —  undoubtedly to go retrieve a treat of some kind. 
She’s not wrong. 
Technically it is her duty. 
But Arella is your blessing. 
Matting and kneading your surroundings to fit your needs. Eager to dampen the growing pains of settling in a new home. 
Constant hellos. 
Permanent smiles.
Not too wide, like a promiscuous woman. But not too tight, like a cold prude. 
Rooms to tour. Hands to shake. Garments to pin and tie and lace around your lungs as if your God-given ribcage was a frivolous extra not needed for life. Not needed to breathe. 
Breathe.
Your lids screw shut. Pulling in as much of the balmy, saltwater breeze gliding up the steep rock face along the overhang. 
Much like he did. 
The Chaplain. 
His hair cascading down his back in the same way poets monologue when inspired. His eyes a mural of what the Gods paint when they want to show off. 
The way earth acquiesces to his touch as if he is the Creator. The birds choose to perform for him every morning. And the ocean exists to bathe him. 
You cannot decide if the sorbet sunsets are created by the Chaplain. Or if the Gods fight over who gets the honor of painting him a new one each evening. 
“Sleep still escapes you, precious girl.” 
It does, but not for the reason she thinks. 
“You worry too much, Arella. I’ll adjust soon.” The tea she brought you is delicious.
The both of you cross back into your quarters. The stagnant, perfumed air suddenly suffocating.
“I would like to go to the chapel garden.” 
A quiet declaration that stills your handmaiden in her tracks. Then a small grin blossoms on her beautiful face. Fussing with your bedding. Wiping away evidence of your sleepless night. 
“For the flowers that bloom, little dove? Or for the God that tends to them?”
The blood in your veins runs subzero. 
“Arella! I am engaged to be marri—“
“Of course you are. But eyesight isn’t a sin.”
Another moment of feigned irritation before you burst into a fit of childish giggles. The both of you no better than school girls, covering your mouths, stifling your laughter. 
“I just wanted to see you smile.” Arella gestures to your extravagant dresser across the room. 
“In the second drawer you can find a casual garment. Come back with at least one hour to prepare for Mass.”
     · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 
A hummingbird chaperones your walk to the church estate. Dulcet hums drown out the rattling heartbeat between your ears. 
This is harmless.
It is not a sin to take in Earth’s natural candy. To appreciate God’s gift to humanity.
In all of his majestic glory. 
Your eyes dart around as if your thoughts are a tangible scroll. Written in ink for the world to see.
Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no one around. 
Just you. Your fluttering companions (both heart and bird). The waking sun. God above and his plants swaying in the gentle gusts of wind. You’re safe in your mind. 
Until he decimates all logical and reasonable train of thought, that is. 
You should be angry. Infuriated. That no one adequately prepared you for seeing the demigod for the first time. Even now, you question whether he’s flesh and blood. 
Maybe an illusion? 
The Lord playing tricks from his throne? 
The mirage before you halts your paces. You can’t help but question your level consciousness. 
Because this must be a dream. 
“Oh, don’t be cruel.” 
Words slip out of your mouth, currently ajar. It’s not your place to chastise the One above, but come on. 
Your eyes taste the Chaplain for a second time and this course is even more decadent than the first. 
There he stands. 
A raven waterfall down his broad, muscular back. Half of it tied away from his face. Olive skin so rich the surrounding plants pale in comparison. Russet brown working pants hang loose around his tapered waist, but snug around his thighs. Various tools hooked in the belt loops. Heavy mahogany work boots match the worn leather gardening gloves fitted to his hands. 
His hands. 
Reaching for thorny vines plaguing his hydrangeas. Even at your distance you could detail each muscle fiber in his arm tense and release with every pull and toss.
Pull and toss.
Pull and toss. 
You would have gotten lost in his rhythmic trance, if it weren’t for the symbol branded in charcoal sprawling his back. The emblem peeks through his thick hair, every now and again. 
A spear? 
No.
A trident. With waves snaking up its stalk along his spine. 
His gravitational pull is overwhelming. Your feet move with more stealth than the King’s Guard.
“Working on the Day of Rest, Father?” Casual, measured. 
“Duchess,” Saliva pools in your mouth. His smile teases your ears before he graces you with it. 
“I have to start being more careful about my clothing.” A playful glint in his eyes. 
“Especially now that I’ve been blessed with a fellow greenskeeper.” 
He is a man of God.
And would never insinuate anything impure. 
But that doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around his words steeped in a baritone potent enough to rumble the ground beneath you.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve sent word that I was coming.” 
“This palace belongs to you, Duchess. You are welcome here at any hour.” His hand captures a vine and tosses it into the pile without his eyes ever leaving yours. 
You are weak.
And greedy. 
The way your gaze drops to his arm. Desperately etching its contours into memory. Seconds, maybe minutes pass before you realize you were gawking. And the Chaplain just let you. 
Head cocked to the side. Soft smile ghosting his full lips. 
“Would you like to finish the tour of your new playground?” 
“Y-yes. Of course, please.” Stumbling over the uneven cobblestone in your voice, you turn away to begin the coordinated stroll. The Priest slides his arms into a linen button up. Lazily fastening two center buttons only. 
He informs you of the work that has already been done, what’s left. Where the soil is richest, where it is the most acidic. How the sun hits certain flowers at each hour of the day.
Brilliant. 
With complete command over God’s bouquet. The sun following him wherever he steps.
“Did you enjoy your swim today, Father?” Both you and the Priest come to a slow stop. One of his angular eyebrows raised.
“I’m dry, Duchess.” He responds with a low, hypnotic chuckle. 
Heat floods your cheeks. How could you be so presumptuous?
“What gave me away?” 
Your knees nearly betray you. The razor sharp grin on his face could cut glass. 
“You were born for the ocean. Or rather, the ocean was born for you.”
Your statement is greeted with blaring silence. 
Lava in his gaze. Singeing every part of your face it touches. His expression is like a foreign language. 
“I—I’ve overstepped, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. Clearly I have much to learn about social graces.” A meek apology bubbles out of your lips. Desperate to fill the space between your bodies. 
The mercurial man shakes his head slightly. Thawed out from your statement, he reaches over and plucks a stray lilac petal resting on your crown.
“My father used to say the same.” He muses, looking away for the first time. 
“Your father! Is he—“
“He was called home some time ago.” This smile is soft. Reminiscent. Polite, but his mind clearly elsewhere. 
“Oh Father Geto, I’m so sorry.” 
A foot in your mouth is not enough punishment for your indecency. Why would you go prodding like this?
“Don’t be, I’ll see him again. Soon enough.”
“Not too soon, I hope.” The statement draws a stunned gaze from the Chaplain. Eyes dancing between yours. 
“Time to prepare for mass, little dove!” Arella’s melodic call tethers you back down from outer space. 
You flicker over to her with a ruby dusting over your nose and cheeks. Like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar before supper. 
“Happy Sunday, Father!” Arella calls out, cheshire grin on her face deepening your crude blush. 
“Indeed, Arella.” He returns the greeting while keeping his eyes on you. 
“Send my regards to the Duke.” His voice lowers, for your ears only. With a nearly imperceptible edge to his tone. 
“Happy Sunday, Duchess. We have a counseling session scheduled late afternoon, yes?” 
A statement of pure black and white fact. And yet it travels down your spine and settles between your legs. Wet heat dampening your thin negligee.
“Yes, Father. Happy Sunday.”
     · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 
Mass was miserable. 
Your corset laced tight enough to meld your two lungs and beating heart into one entity. To say the neckline strangled you is putting it mildly. Cold, uninviting pews dug into your skin at every turn. 
Wretched. 
But the worst of it wasn’t the thin, oxygen-deficient air. Or the shards of glass that slid down your throat with every swallow. Even the jaw pain from tensing your lips in a well-mannered smile for two hours straight was tolerable. 
The worst part of it was him. 
The Priest mesmerized an entire congregation to an ear-splitting hush. 
His first Sunday mass since appointment and nearly everyone in the country and every surrounding province stuffed into the chapel. 
So desperate for blessings from Father Geto. 
Could you blame them?
His voice danced in and out of the pews listlessly. 
Soothing fussy children. Adolescent girls and their mother’s alike — utterly smitten. Adolescent boys experienced their first “I want to be like him” with their fathers sitting right next to them. Husbands glanced feverishly at the women in their lives. 
He had to have noticed it. And yet, he floated above it all the entire service.
Above you. 
Refusing to gift you those eyes that put Vincent Van Gogh to shame. No matter how much you shifted in your seat and straightened your spine.
The Priest spoke to everyone in the room but you. 
Did you read him wrong? 
Did you misinterpret your budding friendship? 
Does it…should it even matter?
Your irritation is palpable. Innocent bystanders are caught in your friendly fire. Including Arella, who changed you out of that horrid costume. And sweet Noel, who ushered you into the seating area — just outside of the good Father’s office.
You make a mental note to send treats to the tender-hearted alter boy. And to apologize profusely to your handmaiden. 
“You are a million miles away, darling.” The sound of your betrothed tows you out of the storm clouds. 
You flicker over to the Duke. Emerald green eyes, high cheek bones — handsome in a way that is characteristic of everyone native to your new home.
“I’m right here, Ezra.” 
“Are you, sweetheart?” The back of his hand caresses your cheek. 
“Mmhm.” You offer your future husband a weak smile and kiss on his cheek. His eyes  faltering slightly, undoubtedly hopeful for lips instead. 
“Good afternoon, Duke and Duchess Ahriman.” 
Father Geto’s velvet greeting encases you both. If Ezra’s arm didn’t guide you to stand you would have been paralyzed in your seat. 
“Father Geto, a pleasure. Thank you for seeing us.” Ezra offers a genuine smile and handshake. Buying you a few extra seconds in your mind’s safe haven.
The Chaplain is tight lipped. Professional. He returns the handshake firmly. 
“Pleasure is mine.” 
Ezra shifts slightly on his feet. Straightening his spine and dropping his shoulders. Your eyes bounce between the Chaplain and your fiancé.
“I must say, Father. You are even more handsome up close. I speak for the men in this country, thank you for taking the vow of celibacy!” The words spill out of the Duke. Unknowingly thinning the air. 
The Priest chuckles quietly, dropping his eyes briefly before landing them on you. And it feels like you could double over.  Your core temperature skyrockets under his smoldering gaze. 
He, the archer. You, the bullseye. 
“Let’s get started, shall we?” 
Ezra laces his fingers in yours, taking the two seats directly in front of the oak desk. A leather bound notebook and pheasant feather pen are neatly arranged — with your names on the first page.
Blue flame rises from your toes to hairline. You might as well have been sitting naked. With how exposed, how vulnerable you feel already.
“What will we be covering first, Father? Something about how wives should obey their husbands, right?” Ezra is light-hearted. Meant to be said in jest.
But he finds himself being the only party in the room laughing. 
The Priest rolls the ink pen between his fingers. Allowing a deafening silence to coat the walls. His expression is neutral, but eyes ablaze. 
“If the man in question is worthy of submission.” He starts. A low, ominous rumble. 
“Uh, yes. Of course.” Ezra responds, shifting in his seat. 
But the Chaplain does not stop. Intent on making a point, he leans in. Pen whirling lightning fast between his long, deft fingers. Enough tailwind to launch across the room, if he desired.  
“If the man in question would give his life for his wife.” Volcanic eyes linger on you, then back to your fiancé. Ezra’s palm finds your thigh. You gnaw on your inner cheek to avoid flinching away. 
“If he would love her like Christ loves all of his creations unconditionally. Unselfishly. Irrationally.” 
“Yes, Father. I understand.” 
“Only then, should she submit.” His serrated tone could split chromium with ease. 
“Of course, of course.” Ezra wisely accepts defeat. 
He presses a short kiss on your cheek as an apology that you didn’t ask for, nor do you want. 
“Mmm.” A forced acknowledgment of the Duke’s affection through your pinched lips. Barely able to move under the Father’s microscopic gaze. 
“Now then,” Father Geto clears the boulders in his throat. 
“Tell me about your love.” 
The question stuns both you and the Duke. Looking to each other sheepishly because neither of you chose this.
War is young men dying and old men talking. And your life path is no different. Dictated by conversations between the powers that be. 
“We’ve only met a week ago, Father.” Your honesty drives both of his eyebrows upward. 
“A week ago?”
“But we are hoping you can teach us.” The Duke, overeager and excitable. 
“Teach you…?” Father Geto muses. You can’t quite interpret his tone, or minimal response. But your heart flutters all the same. 
He is thinking something. And what you would give to get a glance. To be let in. 
“Perhaps guide us?” Ezra gives an unintentionally painful squeeze on your thigh. You fail to muffle the tiny whimper. 
The Priest’s eyes laser down to where your fiancé’s hand lays. Chest rising and falling dangerously slow. 
“Right.”
Your eyes trail upwards as he stands. Closer to God than to you from this point of view.
“Duke, Duchess. You’ll have to accept my sincerest apologies.” 
His fingers dip the unused pen back into the ink cup. The edges of his leather bound notebook coming together. Seemingly without any notes, but an entire script from this session swirling in his mind. 
“My schedule is incorrect. I have another commitment. We will reschedule, yes?” Said with a finality that sends chills crawling down your spine. 
The two of you stand. Another handshake between the men. A restrained nod for you.
Just as quickly as you were let in, Father Geto shuts you out of his office and his mind. 
     · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 
Suguru presses his forehead against the shower tile. Warm water raining down his loose mane. Soothing his sore, overworked limbs. 
Today was maddening. 
He nearly destroyed his vestment the minute that God-forsaken counseling session ended. Seeking refuge, he took to the coast. 
And the sea provided anything but peace. 
She was angry with him, tonight. 
Curt. With unpredictable currents. Rip tides at nearly every turn. She tested his adaptation without mercy.
Just like that night.
“I’m going to stay on board, brother!”
Suguru flickered over to the silver-haired deckhand. An unfamiliar reservation opacifying his nearly translucent, iridescent eyes. 
Brother in name, technically. 
Their bloodlines were oil and water. He was a high born. Suguru was born unworthy of a beggar’s pity. 
But, bloodlines were inconsequential when their souls were instep as one. Both handed to humanity on the same night. During a thunderstorm already inscribed in history books.
‘The Tide of Eternal Requiem.’ 
It brought complete devastation. Crops destroyed. Families torn apart by tragic accidents inland and at sea. 
Then fate struck. 
Within the same hour, a voltaic boy, with a halo that put the clouds to shame and diamond eyes that could draw truth from murderers was born into the loving embrace of his parents. 
And Suguru was born with a crown so dark that the raging midnight appeared bright. 
With eyes as ominous as the sky above. 
Gunmetal grey, accented by an eerie violet swarm. Dormant volcanoes, threatening eruption. His birth mother abandoned him in an alley. Driven by fear that he was a bad omen from the Gods. 
“Ahhh, Satoru come on. Since when do you shy away from a few waves?”
Suguru teased. Already well into the process of shedding his work gear. 
“Zeus is the one rumored to be my father.” His counterpart flashed a knowing smile. 
“Poseidon doesn’t watch over me like he does you, Suguru.”
A tsunami couldn’t keep Suguru from his home. Much less a little rain. 
They were 3 miles away from the shoreline. Using his God-given ability, Suguru regularly acted as their scout. Performing his own reconnaissance then alerting the incoming ship of safe or turbulent terrain. 
“Almost ready to go, son?” 
His chosen father came up behind him. Suguru knew there were tears lining his meek eyes before turning to face him. 
“Dad.” Suguru sighed, fully disrobed now. Just his muscular frame and a compression suit. 
He met his father’s concerned gaze. Always like this during sea storms. Quiet prayers written all over his gentle features. 
Despite the worry, he never once attempted to convince his oceanic boy to stay on board. It would have been too cruel.
“I’ll be fine, I’ve traversed angrier swells.”
“Suguru, take care of yourself when I’m gone.” 
Elder, worn hands landed on his shoulders. Nearly too high for his reach. Suguru cocked his head to the side. 
This goodbye was different. 
“Stay on this path. For me. Albeit straight and narrow, there is a wonderful view. This is all for you, son.” 
Both men glanced to the Persian gulf. She thrashed against their vessel. Swaying their catch left and right with the intention of taking her creatures back. 
“Where is this coming from?” A genuine question from his younger self. Unable to read between the lines. 
“Can’t a man just speak from the heart?”
The melancholy smile didn’t meet the wrinkles of time decorating his eyes, but they shared a laugh anyway.  Suguru turned away but was promptly drawn back. 
“My beautiful boy.” 
The fisherman cradled his son’s face. Swimming in the eyes that Suguru once hated. The eyes that convinced his birth mother to abandon him. 
“Make it to shore, son.” Suguru rested his head against his father’s neck. Taking a slow, sweet drag of his scent.
Oak. 
He always smelled like oak. It was one of Suguru’s favorite things about him.
“If Poseidon calls—“
“I’ll tell him to fuck off.” Mischievous grin plastered on Suguru’s face. His father planted a kiss on his cheek, pushing him towards the end of the boat. As he always did.
Then the Gulf wrapped him in her hostile embrace. 
She was irate. 
Vicious tidal waves. Rapidly shifting currents. Even her creatures knew to settle below their usual depth. Suguru cursed the fact that he was born with useless, human lungs. Unable to withstand the pressure of the Midnight Zone. 
Within minutes his long, lean frame was riding her whims without a shred of control. Tossed around like a rag doll. At her complete mercy — or lack thereof. 
This was the first time he struggled to tame his element. A muffled groan bubbled around him. Serrated edges of long coral stalks dug into his back. Stark white foam whirled around him. 
Aerated waters. 
Suguru could barely maneuver against the waves pummeling his core. Searing heat traveling up his spine. His lungs demanded oxygen. 
The boat. 
The boat would never make it to shore. 
Desperate, furious strokes of his arms meant nothing against her unrelenting grasp. Effectively pinning Suguru to his underwater cross. 
A piece of chewed plank wood whizzed by his face. 
Followed by another. 
Then another. 
And Suguru watched his nightmare materialize before his eyes. Mustering his last oxygen reserve, he bellowed against his closed lips.
As if she hadn’t already ignored the cries of his fellow fisherman. 
Even still, he screamed so loud his ribcage should have vaporized. But ushering him to a watery grave at that time would have been too merciful. 
Suguru blinks out of the harrowing memory. The steeping tea takes at least two layers of epithelium off his esophagus.
Fucking, hell. 
He can’t seem to escape pain today.
The swim was excruciating.
Mass was dreadful.
Watching that boy’s hand lay on your lap was grating. 
Suguru’s mind drifts back to you. Your thought washes over him like baptizing waters purifying that which is impure.
The gleam in your eyes when you asked about his morning plunge. Barely a week and your pulse on him is already this precise.
Do not covet, Suguru. 
He scoffs to himself. Shaking free of your tempting spiral. 
This ‘straight and narrow’ path is proving to be more challenging than he let on. 
“Would you be proud, Father?” 
A whisper of accusation at the end of his inquiry. Suguru would give his arms, his eyes…his life to hear his father’s voice on the other end of his questions, once again. 
“Did He tell you?” 
Roaring silence. Of course. He knows that. He expects it. 
But it angers him all the same. 
“Did He come to you in a dream??” Suguru echos louder. More frantic. Punched out in a way he can barely recognize. 
“Was the reaper at His left, my heart on the right?!” A weak sob slips through the crack in his baritone. 
Yet another pain. But this one is tart and blurring his vision. 
“Did you KNOW? D—did you know that day was your last?!” He hisses through a salty stream.  Storming out to the garden to escape the walls collapsing in on him. 
Suguru’s eyes laser to the remaining thorny vines along his bed of hydrangeas. Without a second thought he wraps them around his bare arms. Staining the plant and his freshly bathed skin with crystalline tears. Once its thorns sufficiently bury into his skin he rips it away from the soil with all his might. 
“Bastard. I’m your SON.”
Warm metallic drips down the hills and ridges of his arms. Collecting in the flower bed. 
Is he cursing his earthly father? 
His Heavenly One? 
Or the Deity that brought this grief on him in the first place?
It hurts. 
An unforgiving pain. 
Much like the thorns in those rapids. Much like the inconceivable burn from his lungs begging for expanse. The time limit, even for him, ran lethally low. 
Well exceeding his father’s time limit. 
Poseidon stole from him that day.  
A callous trade for Suguru’s continued existence. 
“Why didn’t you…I—I should’ve been there.” 
Guilt eviscerates Suguru’s remaining resolve. Tilting his head up, he lets the salty crystals rain down his cheeks freely. 
The full moon cradles his face with the same warmth, the same adoration his father’s hands used to. 
Suguru accepts its celestial kisses for a moment before burying his face into his bloodied palms. His damp locks curtain his flushed face. Protecting the world from his unruly sobs.
“I’m here.” Barely audible words escape through desperate grabs for air. 
“I made it to shore, Dad.”
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E/N: Oh hello, don’t mind me just sobbing. Also, guest appearance by our glorious Blue Eyed Babygirl King™️ If you need me, I will be in witness protection before Gege finds this since it’s a crime to be a S*toru lover. 
taglist: @blkkizzat @rotteneyess
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sincerelyyuu · 2 days
Text
"in the end, it's still you." p3.
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after you made your decision to leave your jujutsu sorcerer life behind, you find yourself longing for what once was and risking more than what you bargained for. ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warnings: sfw, endless amounts of angst, sprinkles of fluff, heavy jujutsu kaisen 0 film spoilers, heartbreak, regret, unrequited love, death, blood, pet names, sorcerer!reader ➼ wc: 5.4K words ➼ a/n: this is the final part of this little angst series of mine. thank you so much to everyone for the amount of love you've given these three. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three
Today was the day.  Suguru had coined it as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons where he intended on releasing thousands of curses across Japan, focusing the epicenters of the attack in Shinjuku and Kyoto.
To say that your life had drastically changed over the last few years would be an understatement. Finding refuge in a grand temple located far away from the eyes of Tokyo, Suguru built himself a cult following. He spent his days collecting money from his loyal followers while also exorcising curses from non-sorcerers who sought him out, deeming him as a god for his “cleansing” talents.
Within this time, your days were simpler. Instead of waking up to the dread of having to fight curse after curse, you spent your time focusing on the little things that brought you joy. You started a little garden that was lush with a variety of flowers and greenery. Thanks to the seclusion of your new home, it made stargazing look something straight out of a fantasy, the night sky always twinkling with millions of stars. With all the extra time, you had many opportunities to curl up with a good book without having to worry about another mission.
Since that fateful night in the village, Nanako and Mimiko became attached to your hip. You became the mother figure they’ve always dreamt of. You loved the girls like your own, spending the majority of your time nurturing them from toddlerhood into the beautiful teens they were now. You were living the simple life you envisioned back in your teen years. 
You knew when you left your old life behind that life would be different. Change was inevitable. You just didn’t expect for it to manifest in the man you ran away with.
Suguru took care of you exceptionally well. He made sure you were well fed and gifted you with the prettiest clothes, occasionally leaving small tokens of appreciation for you for embarking on this journey with him. Whatever you heart desired, it was in your hands no sooner than you can think of it. More importantly, no matter how busy he was, he always found time to keep you company. You, as well as the twins, remained his main priority. His beautiful girls.
You watched Suguru slowly become consumed with the idea of jujutsu sorcerers being the superior race. On the outside, he put up an amiable persona in front of normal humans who came to him for guidance in order to collect their curses. On the inside, he loathed their very existence, finding their presence alone to be unbearable and swearing they filled the air surrounding him with a disgusting stench. 
Monkeys, he would call them. You hated the term. 
He had come to you in the kitchen one day with the biggest grin on his face. It was the happiest you’ve ever seen him in your entire time of knowing him. Pouring yourself a glass of water from the faucet, you leaned your back against the edge of the sink in interest.
“The time has finally come!” he proclaimed as he walked up to you, hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.
“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity. “And what time may that be?”
“My sources tell me that there is an interesting first year student by the name of Okkotsu Yuta at Tokyo High. He is cursed by a special grade spirit by the name of Orimoto Rika,” Suguru goes on to explain.
You felt an unsettling feeling in your stomach, not liking where this conversation was going. You hummed in response and raised the glass to your lips which he took as his cue to go on.
“I plan on retrieving her. The power she holds is the exact thing we need to put an end to every non-sorcerer in existence,” he sighed happily at what he believed was the light at the end of the tunnel.
Frowning, you replied, “...And how exactly do you plan to do that, Sugu?”
“By killing anyone that gets in my way starting with Tokyo Jujutsu High.”
The glass of water immediately slipped from your hands, seconds away from shattering onto the floor if not for Suguru’s incredible reflexes. Placing the still full cup on the counter, he observed the immense shock displayed in your eyes at his declaration. You wished that he was just pulling your leg and that he wasn’t really considering taking on such a risky and incredibly dangerous task. But a man of his word, you knew better than anyone that when Suguru said anything, he truly meant it.
“Geto Suguru,” his name leaving your lips in a slow drawl, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”
Leaning against the counter next to you, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought. “It’s simple really. I will unleash the thousands of curses that I’ve meticulously collected over this past decade into the city. Two cities, in fact. While they send their forces to try and save as many pathetic monkeys as they can, I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”
The more you listened to him explain in detail his plan, the more you found yourself looking at a complete stranger. This couldn’t possibly be the kind Suguru that you’ve known throughout your teens and entire twenties. 
Had you really known him at all?
The incredulous look of concern and flash of fear across your face must have been hard to take in because Suguru’s demeanor immediately took on a more serious stance. 
“(y/n),” he started to say your name and reached for your hand. This time, it was his turn to be shocked when you immediately yanked your hand away from his as if his touch burned you. 
“Don’t,” you demand, taking a step away from him as you felt your blood begin to boil. “What the hell, Suguru?”
The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at your hostile reaction, “I had a feeling you’d react like this.”
You scoffed at his reply, “Did you honestly expect for me to just be peachy about this idea? You’re talking about murdering millions of people! This isn’t what I agreed to when I decided to go on the run with you.”
“I was very upfront with you about my goals. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is something new,” Suguru argued, not liking the tone of your voice. “You made the big girl decision to come with me. Don’t tell me you’re regretting it now?”
You clenched your jaw at his audacity. “You didn’t give me a choice! I’m not the one who decided to go on a murderous killing spree at seventeen on a mission we were both assigned to,” you retorted in exasperation.
“But I stayed with you because I care about you, Suguru. If I didn’t, why would I leave my entire life behind to be here with you now?” you asked, feeling the anger in your veins shift to deep hurt. “You forget that I sacrificed a lot, too. Excuse me if I don’t agree with every choice you make along the way, especially this one.”
Running his hand through his dark locks, Suguru exhaled deeply. He rarely fought with you and he hated every minute you were anything less than happy with him. He angled his body to face you once more and placed his strong hands on your shoulders. When you didn’t instantly pull away from him, he tugged you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.
“I’m sorry. I didn't forget how much you’ve sacrificed to be with me and I’m eternally grateful every day I see your face. I know this situation hasn’t been completely fair for you and I only have myself to blame for that,” he apologized sincerely.
“That being said, I’ve made my final decision. I won’t ask you to fight on the front lines nor do I expect you to do anything you don’t want to. You can stay here without needing to get involved or lift a finger. The decision is yours.”
Back to the present, you couldn’t shake the premonition that something really bad was going to happen. Your anxiety in your heart refused to dissipate with the uncertainty of what's to come looming over you. You hated this. You hated how this is what it all came down to. 
You made it clear to Suguru that you weren’t going to take any innocent lives. However, you refused to sit still and play the waiting game while everyone was out fighting for their lives. Naturally, you set your heart on protecting your girls.
“Nanako, Mimiko,” you said to your phone via video chat, “Are you girls doing okay?”
“Everything is good so far, (y/n)-sama,” Nanako replied back and adjusted her phone so that she and her sister fit into one frame. “Where are you? Geto-sama said you’d be here.”
You responded, “I’m here. Just standing out of sight but still keeping an eye on you.”
Standing atop of some miscellaneous office building, you observed the large curse that housed the twins safely inside its mouth. You focused on manipulating your cursed energy to lower it to extreme minute levels in order to hide your presence, blending it with the large amount of cursed energy permeating in the air. Doing so made it difficult to pinpoint your exact location. 
“How come you aren’t here directly with us?” Mimiko questioned, feeling slightly anxious but relieved to see your face even if it was through a screen.
You paused, taking a few seconds to think before answering carefully, “It’s complicated.”
How do you exactly tell them that the reason you were hiding to begin with was because you were hiding from the man of the hour?
Gojo Satoru.
You would be lying if you said a part of you didn’t long to see him. You did everything in your power to cut all ties with the strongest sorcerer a decade ago, although it hurt more than anything. You didn’t know if you could ever face him again, especially not now considering the circumstances with Suguru’s plot. 
Did he even want to see you?
A pair of sweet voices called out to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking back at your phone, you saw the looks of anticipation on the twins’ faces.
“Sorry, what did you girls say?” you sheepishly asked.
Nanako pouted adorably, repeating their question, “We asked if we could go to that crepe shop on Takeshita Street with you. Geto-sama promised he’d take us last time but it was closed by the time we got there.”
Chuckling, you nodded to their request. “Of course. When this is all over, we’ll take a girls trip together.”
“Promise?” they said in unison, holding their pinkies up to the screen.
You held your own pinky up and lightly tapped it against your phone. “I promise.”
On the other end, you heard Nanako’s notification sound go off. “They said they’re stepping up the plan and telling us to engage,” she informed you.
Biting your lip in apprehension, you sighed. “Please be careful, you two. Do not hesitate to call me immediately if something happens. Do you understand? I'll catch up with you in a few.”
The pair nodded, holding up their pinkies for emphasis promising you of their safety. Just as you were about to hang up the call, their soft voices caught your ears.
“(y/n)-sama?”
“Yes, my loves?” you answered with concern in your eyes watching them fidget nervously.
“I love you.”
You felt your heart squeeze at the declaration, warmth spreading in your chest as you smiled fondly at the two. They looked at you shyly with pink cheeks looking slightly embarrassed after voicing their affection together. When did they grow up so fast from the little five year olds they once were when you first met them?
“I love you, too. Both of you. See you soon,” you reciprocated, blowing a kiss to the camera.
The twins mirrored the gesture before hanging up. Focusing your eyes back to the curse they were inside, its mouth opened to reveal your precious girls. You waved goodbye to them despite them not being able to see you. Just as you were about to trail them, that unsettling feeling increased tenfold in your stomach. Something was wrong. 
Suguru.
You dialed his number on your phone, pressing it to your ear only for the call to go straight to voicemail. This only made your anxiety worse. He never missed a call from you. Wracking your brain on where he could be, his previous words echoed in your mind.
“I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”
Cursing under your breath, your legs began moving on their own.
Run faster.
You repeated the two words in your head like a mantra as you weaved through alleyways and every shortcut you could remember. Your lungs burned with the intensity of it demanding oxygen, but you refused to slow down the pace of your sprint. You were determined to make it back to Tokyo Jujutsu High.
You had to make it to Suguru.
Scanning the black veil that you knew Suguru had casted over the school, you managed to locate a hole that was made by something, or rather someone, else. Slipping through the opening, you finally stepped foot onto the grounds that you once called your home. You hurriedly followed the trails of blood and wreckage of what looked to be the after effects of a lethal fight. 
You nearly collapsed as you felt the ground quake beneath your feet, the force of it catching you off guard. The air felt electrified with the sheer amount of cursed energy surrounding you. It terrified you. Despite your fear, you steeled yourself and ran towards where you felt the cursed energy was strongest. 
Careening around another corner, you were relieved to see the backside of the man you were searching for. However, your relief was short-lived when you looked just beyond his figure down the path to see a young teenage boy. 
There was no mistaking him as Okkotsu Yuta with his special grade curse Rika suspended beside him protectively and looking every bit as deadly as you heard. He was exchanging words with her that you couldn’t hear from where you stood. You saw the way Yuta  intimately held her monstrous frame close to his face. The interaction was so full of tenderness and devotion, the kind that would risk it all in the name of love.
But that’s when you realized what was happening. He was sacrificing himself to Rika to release the limit on her cursed energy.
Hearing Rika passionately declare her love for Yuta, you looked in horror as she began gathering all of her raw cursed energy in full force. Flashes of purple and pink coalesced into one massive deadly black orb, a symbol of Rika’s eternal love for him.
And it was aimed directly at Suguru.
“SUGURU!”
You didn’t even hear yourself scream for him, your voice coming out in terror-stricken screech. It was like your body went into overdrive. In your moment of panic, you didn’t have time to think or feel, only running towards him with your heart beating loudly in your ears. 
For Suguru, it all happened so quickly. 
The moment he heard your voice, he whipped his head to you with eyes widened in alarm. You weren’t supposed to be here. He needed to figure out a way to get you as far away as possible from Rika. 
Time almost stopped for the next few seconds.
There was a flash and a strong hand that shoved Suguru’s body back from where he was positioned. A waft of a familiar perfume. The feeling of soft tresses tickling his cheek. A blinding blue glow. He realized too late that it was you moving at an supersonic speed to stand in front of him, safeguarding him as you channeled all of your cursed energy to brace and harden your body for impact.
Then, Rika charged.
Destruction. Suguru’s curses were no match to the power of Rika’s concentrated cursed energy beam. Her attack left devastation in its wake, buildings blown down to their bare infrastructures, dust and debris clouding the pinkened sky, and a deep crater of the battlefield permanently indented into the ground.
For a moment, all you felt was searing pain enveloping your body. You didn’t even register the way Suguru seized you by the waist, jerking you away as he made a narrow escape with you just a second away from death’s door. Your vision faded to black as you closed your eyes.
When you next opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the back of Suguru’s head. He was carrying you on his back, your arms around his neck and your body swaying in small jerky motions as he limped down the pathway with growing difficulty.
Good. He had made it, you thought to yourself in ease.
‘Made it’ was an understatement. The man was officially missing his entire right arm, the same arm he used to safely pull you away from Rika. Long black hair haphazardly let down, black yukata torn in half to reveal his bare toned torso, right eye swollen shut. He was lucky to have gotten away with just this. 
He was only this lucky because of you. You had taken Rika’s attack head on. Even with you using your cursed energy as a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop the negative repercussions. Your injuries were severe. The strength of Rika’s blow left a gaping hole in the center of your chest a hair’s away from your heart, feeling sharp pains with every shallow breath you took. You could feel yourself bleeding out onto Suguru’s back, soaking his robe with crimson. Unable to feel any sensations in your legs, you suspected you were paralyzed from the waist down. 
“Suguru,” your raspy voice croaked out.
“You finally opened those eyes, pretty girl. You had me worried for a moment there,” Suguru chuckled quietly.
The two of you fell into a calm silence, only the sounds of Suguru’s footsteps and your ragged breathing to be heard. You wanted to ask him so many questions. Where did Yuta and Rika go? What happens now? No matter how hard you tried to focus on moving your mouth you simply couldn’t, not having the strength to do so. Suguru was the first to break the silence.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly. His haggard face looked absolutely spent with his voice coming out no louder than a murmur. Only loud enough just for you to hear the regret and guilt in his speech.
You chuckled weakly, “Can you really say you were surprised?”
Suguru sighed in defeat, “I suppose not. Although I would have preferred if you had stayed with our girls. Now look at you.”
“That’s not very ‘Thank you for saving my life’ of you, Sugu,” you huffed, gently pinching his cheek in retaliation causing him to laugh lightly.
You felt your heart swell seeing Suguru smile and banter with you so freely. It reminded you of your earlier days back in high school when it was just you, him, and Satoru.
Satoru.
As you leaned your head on Suguru’s good shoulder, your mind drifted to the snowy haired man. It always did. You often wondered if he had changed much since you last saw him. Was he still that confident man that would give his all for the world? The same man that would have burned the world for you? What would your life be like if you had decided to go back to him that day in Shinjuku? So many questions that you would never have answers for. You knew that when you left Satoru that day, you had left your heart with him too. 
If only you had the chance to tell him you loved him in person.
Feeling something rise in your chest, you were only able to squeeze Suguru’s shoulder in warning before you leaned to the side to vomit blood, the bodily fluid coming out in a viscous consistency. By the time you were done, you felt extremely weak. Your head felt fuzzy and the severe pain in your chest was beginning to subside the more you bled out. 
“I’m dying, Suguru.”
Suguru’s grip on you faltered for a quick second before hoisting you upright on his back once more. He already knew it. He knew you were dying by the faraway look in your eyes and the way you could barely keep them open. You were losing too much blood too quickly. He had exhausted his cursed energy supply on Rika, only having the physical energy to carry you through pure willpower.
“Do you regret running away with me now?” he asks solemnly, slowing his pace down to not rock you too much.
You shook your head, “I don’t. I promised you that I would be there for you until the end.”
“Thank you for keeping your promise,” he expressed genuinely.
When you didn’t say anything else, he turned his head slightly to see you with your eyes closed. He momentarily panicked before he was consoled by the rise and fall of your back that indicated you were still here.
“(y/n)?” he calls, looking straight ahead and walking with no real destination in mind. You hummed in response to let him know you were listening.
“I love you.”
Despite living the last ten years of his life with you, this was the first time he had verbally expressed those three words to you, opting to show his affections for you through actions. But in your dying moments, he needed you to hear just how much he loved you, even if he knew you would never say them back the same way he meant it.
“I know. I always knew,” You smiled guiltily. “I do love you, Suguru. You’re always going to be my best friend. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate your feelings no matter how hard I tried.”
Suguru nudged his head against yours in a comforting manner. He whispered, “It’s okay. I still love you regardless.”
Feeling exhaustion settle in your bones, you could barely fight the growing heaviness of your eye lids and a sense of calm lulling your senses. Resting your chin on Suguru’s shoulder, he felt your faint breath fan against his neck.
“Sugu,” the nickname sounding so painfully loving on your lips, “I’m sleepy.”
Suguru couldn’t bring himself to watch you die, staring straight ahead so you wouldn’t see the tears pooling in his eyes.
“Sleep, baby. I got you.”
With that, your eyes closed as you took your last breath, your arms around his neck slipping to fall at his sides.
Trudging down the narrow alleyway, Suguru shifted your frame to his front in order to rest your head against his hard chest. Your body was still warm as Suguru held you tighter against him, albeit a bit awkwardly considering the effects of the battle left him with only one arm. You looked so peaceful. If anyone didn’t know any better, they would have assumed you were just in a deep sleep. Only, you were forever in a dream that you would never wake up from. 
Suguru felt like a failure. Despite his elaborate plan, he was unsuccessful in securing the special grade curse Rika from Okkotsu Yuta. Experiencing her power first hand, she was truly extraordinary. If he had gotten her, there would be no need to sneak around swallowing curses. He would have had the power to change the world like he wanted.
You wouldn’t have had to die for him.
If only he had a little more time. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Suguru smiled at the familiar presence. With great effort, Suguru carefully lowered you and himself against the wall and held you close.
“You’re late, Satoru,” he announced, his words devoid of any real malice. “To think you’d be the one here at my end. Is my family safe?
“Every last one of them managed to escape,” the special grade sorcerer replied in monotone.
Except you. Satoru took in your lifeless form that was brutally beaten and bloodied by what he assumed was the aftermath of Rika. Your hair was longer than when he last saw you in Shinjuku ten years ago. Your delicate hands that used to hold onto his so dearly were now battered. Bruises adorned your face, crimson from your wounds beginning to dry against your skin.  Even after all these years of not seeing you, even in this state, you were still beautiful to him.
“Unlike you, I’m a kind man. You sent those two assuming I’d defeat them, didn’t you? To set Okkotsu off?” Suguru questioned the male, referring to the panda and cursed speech user.
Satoru answered, “I trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.”
Suguru tiredly smiled at his words. “Trust, huh? I didn’t think I still had any of that left.”
Gaze hardening, Satoru coldly responded, “I also trusted you to keep her safe.”
He knew he was being hypocritical. He spent years trying to seek you out and to bring you home. Once he did, he even considered quitting the sorcerer life to give you the normal life you wanted. Yet you didn’t want to be found and made it incredibly difficult to track you (and naturally Suguru.) The fact you survived this far to begin with was with Suguru’s help, which is more than what he had done. At least Suguru was able to give you some form of happiness. Although he never gave up looking for you, Satoru knew he should have done more to protect you. 
And now he has to live with the fact that he couldn’t bring you back home anymore.
“It was always you, you know that?”
Tearing his eyes away from your lifeless form, Satoru wordlessly looked at his best friend who had a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“All of these years away, there wasn’t a day that she didn’t think about you. No matter how hard I tried to get her to reciprocate my love, to open her heart to me, her heart was always set on you,” Suguru admitted bittersweetly.
Satoru could only stand there stunned at the revelation. If Suguru was telling the truth, had you always loved him the way he loved you? Flashbacks of you played back in his mind like an old movie. 
The way you would tenderly treat his wounds after he went a little too hard after a mission…
“I swear to god, Toru, you better not come back looking like this again,” you sighed, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball of antibiotic on the small gash on his forehead.
“You mean looking this good~?” he smirks, flexing his bicep proudly. Only for his bottom lip to jut out into a pout at the way you playfully roll your eyes at him, not exactly denying his words but also not wanting to feed that big ego of his.
Turning around to grab a clean bandage for his wound, he misses the way a light pink hue blooms across your cheeks.
…making him a bento box of his favorite foods after scolding him for skipping meals…
“Oh?” Satoru chirps, “What do we have here?”
He watched you unravel the prettily wrapped package to reveal the lunch you had prepared for him. Based on the smell alone, he knew you had made his favorite. “A little birdie told me you skipped breakfast this morning,” you sighed.
“Did this birdie happen to be a six foot three tall man with a man bun? What a snitch,” he sighed dramatically.
Tsking, you pushed the bento closer to him. “Don’t be mean. Eat before the food gets cold or else the last hour and a half of me cooking would go to waste.”
Didn’t you just come back from a mission this morning? The thought crossed his mind as he considered how tired you must be but still mustered the energy to cook for him. The delusional side of him imagined if this was what it would be like if you were his pretty little wife.
Grinning, he takes a bite of the food and savors the delicious flavor that hits his taste buds. “Thank you, sweets.”
…and leaving little cute messages in his notebooks to read during class.
Hearing his sensei drone on about something related to cursed energy, Satoru leaned back in his chair with his head tilted back in a silent groan. He swore this boring class had a higher chance of killing him than dealing with a special grade curse. Feeling someone kick his shoe from under his desk, Satoru looked over next to him to see Suguru giving him a disapproving look, gesturing with a nod to the sensei to pay attention. Satoru merely stuck his tongue out at him causing his best friend to roll his eyes. To be fair, he was equally as bored but someone had to pay attention to take notes, right?
Leaning on his hand, he aimlessly flicked through the pages of his notebook, the pages mostly bare since he rarely took notes. Satoru’s interest quirked when his eyes landed on an adorable doodle of a kitty cat wearing black round glasses much like the ones he wore. Beside it was a little speech bubble written in your handwriting that said, “You got this, Toru! I’ll always be here to support you ^o^.”
Chuckling, Satoru turned his head to find you sitting a few desks away from him. Unlike him, you were completely engrossed in the lesson and taking notes like the good student you were. You had your hair tucked behind your ear as you gnawed on your lower lip in concentration. All Satoru could think was… ‘pretty.’
Feeling eyes on the back of your head, you scanned your surroundings before making direct eye contact with Satoru. Despite being caught red handed staring at you, Satoru shot you a flirty wink, snickering at the way you gaped at him in shock. He made a gesture of him pretending to be on the verge of falling asleep, feeling his heart palpitate at the way you couldn’t help but giggle at him.
The next class, he found another doodle in his notebook of that same little Gojo kitty along with the words, “All eyes up front instead of me, Mr. Gojo >.<.”
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could he have been so blind? 
Or, maybe, he did see all of the signs. Perhaps he chose to actively ignore them because he knew getting involved with you would only put you in danger. He was okay with admiring you from a distance if it meant keeping you safe.
But if he knew things would end up this way, he wished he spent all this time telling you he loved you instead.
“Do you have any last words?” Satoru offered, feeling his heart aching at what was next to come.
Looking to the sky in resignation, a peaceful look graced Suguru’s face. “I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”
“But she made it worthwhile,” he continued, his voice lowering in remorse as he studied your tranquil face, ingraining every little detail that he loved about you in his mind. “I don’t regret taking her with me. My only regret is not being able to give her the life she deserved.”
Suguru cradled your face in his hand and leaned down to kiss your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering on your skin for the last time. He didn’t react when he heard heavy footsteps draw near.
Satoru brought himself closer to the two people he cherished most in his life. Crouching down so that he was eye level, he reached out to brush the hair away from your lids, wishing so desperately for you to open them so that he could look into those eyes that he first fell in love with. Just as Suguru did, he pressed his lips to your temple, feeling a tear slip from his eye.
Goodbye, my sweet girl. To the only girl I will ever love.
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🏷️: @urcutetozier @sad-darksoul @alisoncdariel @paprikaquinn @jjk174
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niki-phoria · 1 day
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EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, I LIKE IT, I LOVE IT
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pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 505
notes: sorry for the late post, i've been too busy reading zb1 fanfics to write anything lmao, possibly ooc megumi, not proofread, title from soulja boy - kiss me thru the phone
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it wasn’t often that FUSHIGURO MEGUMI allowed himself to be vulnerable. even with the people he trusted the most, it always felt as if there was a wall separating him from others - a barrier preventing him from fully allowing himself to feel any love or comfort in fear of it being ripped away again. 
it was hard - even if he pretended like it wasn’t. 
you had come to see many different sides of megumi over your time at jujutsu high. you had watched his glares become softer and long silences shorten until he would freely share his ideas with you. somehow, when it came to you, all of his defenses had failed, one after another. he found himself looking out for you - watching over your training sessions; following after you during missions; waiting at your bedside when you got hurt. 
something about megumi was different. something about you was different. 
falling for you was fast. it happened before megumi had realized what was happening. brief glances had become nervous touches, and nervous touches had become long conversations that lasted far into the early hours of the morning until megumi found himself lying beside you in your bed, falling into a deep sleep almost as quickly as you did. 
the morning had come quickly and quietly. sunlight seeps into your dorm room through your open blinds, casting your sleeping figure in golden light. megumi watches intently as your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm; stray strands of hair frame your relaxed features. 
despite himself, megumi smiles softly at the sight. he reaches up before gingerly resting his hand against your cheek, stroking his thumb against your skin. “y/n,” megumi whispers. you stir in response; your face twitches as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. the feeling causes heat to spread across his face and goosebumps to rise along his skin. “come on. we have a mission.”
you lazily wrap your arms around his waist, tugging your body closer until your head rests against his chest. megumi does his best to ignore the butterflies swarming throughout his stomach to little avail. “not yet,” you rasp out, nuzzling yourself even closer to him. 
he purses his lips. your body is warm beneath the covers as you nuzzle yourself even closer to him. as much as he hates to admit it, megumi would much rather lay in bed with you then watch you risk your life to kill a curse yet again. 
“gojo-sensei will be upset if we’re late,” he sighs. cool hands slip underneath the fabric of your shirt, tracing shapes into your bare skin. you startle momentarily at the feeling, but don’t move much otherwise. “y/n…”
you simply frown in response, tightening your grip around his waist. “five more minutes,” you murmur. megumi freezes when you blink up at him with flushed cheeks and tired eyes. “please?”
it wasn’t often that megumi allowed himself to be vulnerable. but with a request like that, how could he ever say no?
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taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho
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whatdoidosatoru · 2 days
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Megumi Fushiguro X Reader flufffffffrhehwhsywuh
in which reader gets their period and megumi comforts them and tries to help with the pain
cw: swearing, periods, pain, painkillers
wc: 1952
“I know you took my hoodie, why are you always taking my stuff?!”
Megumi’s voice came from the hallway, spilling into my bedroom through the door that was now almost thrown open. I should've known this would happen, mainly because I did actually do what I was being accused of.
My roommate was completely in the right to look to me for his ‘lost’ stuff because I was the one who did the laundry for both of us and sometimes … it just happens. He's insanely gorgeous and smells heavenly so sometimes I just…swipe one of his hoodies off the pile and stash it under my pillow.
If sniffing my crush’s clothes is a crime then send me away, I guess.
But this time I didn't expect him to be so…angry because of it. I was currently in a foetus position, trying to make the period pain go away - but to no avail - and tears were already streaming down my face.
The last thing I needed to add to the pile was being yelled at.
As soon as he walked into my room, all menacing with his dark scowl, he noticed the state I was in and his attitude changed.
“What happened?” His voice suddenly soft, with a twinge of sadness.
I couldn't trust my voice so I just pointed towards my stomach. His eyes followed where I was pointing and, when it clicked, his mouth formed a little surprised o. He shuffled his weight awkwardly.
“Well, did you take my hoodie?” The accusation now sat in the air a little bit softer than before.
I slowly reached under my pillow and grabbed the cursed hoodie and handed it to him.
“The smell of it calmed me down.” I squeezed it out through my teeth, voice broken from straining out my silent sobs for an hour.
He carefully approached the bed and took it from my hand, suddenly not seeming very keen on taking it back from me.
"Why?” He was never a man of rambling. Most of our conversations were to the point, no additional information on his side.
I simply shrugged, not in the mood to start explaining myself. His gaze landed on the bottle of water and an empty pack of painkillers next to the bed and worry clouded his eyes.
He sat on the edge of the bed, like he didn't know what to do next. Some part of him seemed to want to help me, but didn't know how.
“What's wrong? Can you speak?”
I swallowed hard and through another sob explained, “Got my period today.”
He nodded, realising he could not help me in this predicament, but still wanting to try.
“Anything I can do?”
I shrugged again, not wanting to inconvenience him by asking him to punch my uterus out of my body or to joke about getting me pregnant so I can be at peace for a little while. In a small voice I braved myself to ask for one favour.
“Could you maybe rub my back a little?”
That seemed to not surprise him much, and he leaned over across me to place his warm hand on my lower back and slowly rub in circles.
“Is this okay?”
His voice was soft and soothing now. Like he lowered it to not upset me. I nodded to answer his question so he continued what he was doing. My sobs were getting fewer and far between so he figured whatever he was doing was helping at least a little bit.
“Is it okay with you if I lie down next to you to do this?”
In normal circumstances, his asking me to lie down with me would've sent me into a frenzy. I would've screamed from the top of my lungs and danced in the rain at the proposal. But now I was barely able to squeeze out a pathetic little ‘yes’ and watch him slowly move me closer to the wall so he could lie down in front of me.
My face was an inch away from his chest and his arm was practically hugging me to reach my back. Yes, I was definitely counting that.
He wasn't a man that showed affection often, so this act of kindness took me by surprise, but I'd be damned if I showed it. Nothing could get in between me and this moment of closeness with him.
“Is this okay?” Hearing his voice so close felt almost illegal. He was speaking into the top of my head and I'd stopped sobbing a while ago.
I felt brave enough to shimmy a little closer to him so our legs were fully touching and he didn't pull away, that was a win.
Our faces were uncommonly close, his lips in line with my forehead. I could feel his breath on my nose and cheeks. He smelled of our fabric softener with a dash of his cologne, all mixed with his natural body scent and it felt so intoxicating I couldn't move, think, or speak.
Realising I didn't answer, I quickly cleared my throat and managed a weak ‘yeah’. Megumi didn't seem eager to leave. He let the silence take over as my thoughts were racing, none of them loud enough for me to register it, just a constant buzzing in my ears.
“I'm assuming you already took painkillers, right?”
His voice was low, but authoritative. I mean, of course I took painkillers, but If I hadn't, I would've done just that specifically because he asked.
I nodded and tried to explain, “Yes, they don't always work, though.”
He hummed at my answer.
“Did you want me to get you a hot water bottle?”
I was surprised at the amount of care he showed me, at best I expected a pat on the back and a disinterested ‘there there’.
I swallowed hard.
“Please just … stay here for a bit. Didn't have the time to get one, I nearly fainted in the shower so I hurried to bed.”
He nodded, “I see.”
There was worry in his voice. Along with his calm demeanour, it was more comforting than a warm blanket and a cup of hot tea.
I wasn't sure if I was delirious with the stabbing pain that made me want to rip out my uterus and beat it to death, but it felt as though Megumi rested his lips on my forehead. When the feeling lingered, I realised his lips hadn't moved - he was definitely kind of kissing my forehead. What?
My heart started pumping faster. The buzzing in my ears cleared up a little and I could hear him take a deep breath and exhale into my hairline.
“I'm really sorry you feel like this.” His sentiment caught me off guard.
“I'm mostly used to it.” I regained the use of my voice a bit more already.
“That's even worse, I should've at least got you some chocolate.” He sounded upset with himself.
“Not being funny, Fushiguro, it's not like I'm advertising the fact that my uterus is tearing itself apart from the inside.”
“I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier.”
I scoffed quietly, I didn't want him to apologise just because I was in pain and most likely dying.
“I'm serious. It's just been a long day and … I don't mind you actually taking my hoodies, I just wanted to know it wasn't lost or something.”
Okay then, that was different…
He was softening up.
“I'm sorry for taking it and not telling you.”
“It's fine, don't worry about it.”
What??
I kept quiet because, at this point, I didn't quite understand what was going on. There was a non-zero chance that this wasn't ‘my’ Megumi, but a shape shifter or some kind of a doppelganger.
“Thank you for staying here with me.”
He tried to cover up a soft chuckle.
“I don't mind.”
Megumi let out a long sigh and continued, “I do actually care about you, you know? I'll stay with you throughout the night if you'd like.”
I let out a surprised giggle.
“Careful, Fushiguro. Those are the kinds of words that make girls fall in love with you.”
I couldn't believe I just said that. I should NOT have said that oh no.
That was a risky sentence and I might have revealed my true feelings to the man that would never bother with me and I had to continue living with him.
Fortunately, he chuckled at the words.
“Are you speaking from experience?” He asked jokingly.
I decided to keep quiet at that. Maybe he'd drop it.
Unfortunately for me, he persisted.
“Well?”
Fuck.
“What?” I resorted to playing dumb.
“Are you trying to play dumb?”
What the fuck? How was he this observant now, when before, I tried to start something by walking around in nothing but oversized T-shirts and underwear…Now he decided to pay attention to me.
“Uh, I didn’t catch the question, sorry.”
A sigh from his end.
“Yes, you did.”
Alright then, Mr. Attitude.
“That’s not my name.”
It took me longer than I care to admit to realise I said that last bit out loud. I started giggling, unfortunately, every movement caused another jab of pain in my abdomen so I groaned out and pressed on it tighter.
Megumi looked down at me, sighed, and pressed me closer to his chest.
“Fushiguro?” I decided in my delirious state that this was the right time to try saying shit I will probably regret tomorrow.
He hummed in response, vibrations from his chest resonating through my head.
“I think I’m dying. If you’re in love with me, better come clean now, or else you’ll regret it when I’m gone.”
I swear I could hear him chuckle, I didn’t make it up.
“You’re not dying, but I do have to admit, I do like you.”
“You whAT?” I almost suffocated myself in his embrace.
He snickered at my reaction.
“You're going to make me say it again, won't you?”
“It concerns me, doesn't it?” I don't know how I found the strength to be sassy at this point. His chest was rising and falling a bit faster now.
“I don't know how you didn't get it before, but I like you.”
“I'm sorry, how was I supposed to get that?”
He sighed, “Well I stayed in the living room to chat with you after you came back from work recently, then I made coffee and left it on the counter for you in the morning, and I got your winter coat out of the back wardrobe… I was sure you noticed and didn't say anything because you didn't like me back.”
He fucking what?
“I…that was you making me coffee? I thought I just left it and forgot about it, I'm sorry.”
I'd been dumping them into the sink. Oh god.
He chuckled, not seeming annoyed at that.
“That’s okay, I had a feeling you might not realise it was me who did that. I didn't really know how to approach you with this…issue.”
Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck?
In hindsight, it might have been the mass amounts of painkillers that made me so calm about this situation. At least outwardly.
“Hey Megumi? Can we talk about this tomorrow?” I felt myself dropping off to sleep. Finally.
“We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”
For fuck’s sake, my guy.
“No, I…I like you too, obviously.”
His breath hitched.
“I just want to be fully awake for this, and I'm about to fall asleep.” I was beginning to slur my words already.
He kissed the top of my head and took a deep breath.
“I'll stay here with you while you sleep. We can talk in the morning.”
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madaqueue · 18 hours
Text
Good Boy
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pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader
themes/content: sub boyfriend sukuna, soft dom reader. language, smut. bondage, handjob, light choking, praise, pet names (baby, sweetheart), mentions of degradation. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.5k
a/n: subby sukuna that's it send tweet
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“Y’know I’m only doing this for you, right?” Sukuna huffs.
“I know,” you smile from behind him.
Leaning back, you admire your work: the pink rope tied around his wrists holds his arms in place behind his back, with matching ones stationing him on his knees, feet tucked beneath his thighs. His cock stands fully erect, a drop of precum beginning to form along his slit before you’ve even truly begun.
The sight of him makes your heart flutter. “You look so pretty, ‘Kuna,” you purr, sitting up to place a kiss on his cheek.
His skin is warm under your lips, flushing a slight red. “Aw, are you blushing?” you tease gently.
“No,” he scoffs, turning his head away from you. “Just get on with it already, woman.” “Gimme a second sweetheart, I gotta get you warmed up first,” you hum as your eyes cover his form.
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at just how innocent your boyfriend looks. It’s funny, almost, the way his muscles poke through the knots, tattoos coursing over his rough skin that’s now covered in a dainty pink. Everything about him looks so sweet, so soft, so submissive.
Normally he was the dominant one, demanding power and control in every aspect of his life, and sex was no different. Of course he treated you with care, but sometimes he showed it by fucking you harshly, ravenously, leaving proof of his love across your body in the form of scratches and bruises, a physical manifestation of his unadulterated adoration for you.
In fact, these ropes had originally been bought after a night when the skin of your neck was covered in teeth marks and hickeys from an hour of him teasing you. When you felt him nip at your chest, you couldn’t help squirming in his grasp.
“If you don’t sit still I’m gonna have to tie you down,” he muttered, moving lower to place his mouth around your hardened nipple, sucking on it between his teeth.
Unfortunately his words had the opposite effect, making you writhe even more against his thigh from where he held you in his lap.
“Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckled at your reaction. “Pathetic little sluts like you need to be tied up to behave.”
He bought them the next day.
But, in the mix of all the other toys and gadgets you two rotated through, they had been tossed to the back of the closet and forgotten, unused, until now.
The idea popped into your mind a few days ago while you were scrolling on your phone and a video suddenly caught your eye: in the middle of a bed was a man with his arms and legs bound as a woman moved around him. She treated him softly but firmly, her fingers trailing over his body. You felt your heart rate pick up at the sight, warmth beginning to pool in your stomach as you watched. Seeing the trust, the control, between them sparked something in you.
Unsurprisingly, Sukuna was completely opposed to the idea when you brought it up.
“I’m not some fucking piece of meat to be tied up and toyed with,” he grumbled from the couch.
“Oh, but when you wanted to do it with me it’s fine?” you questioned sarcastically.
Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”
“Please, ‘Kuna? Just once?” you begged, using the nickname you knew pulled at his heartstrings, the one that always made him give in to your desires.
After a moment of silence, he sighed. “Fine,” he conceded, “just once.”
Although he’d never admit it, the idea made his head spin, his cock beginning to strain at his pants just from hearing you say the words. After all, he’s not the type who does something just for the sake of pleasing others; when he agreed, you both implicitly knew there was a part of him that was curious, too.
As he’s perched on the bed in front of you, he finally gets to have his interest satiated.
Returning your mind to the present you settle in behind him, resting your head on his shoulder as your lips trail down his neck. The soft sensation of your breath tickles his skin, making him shiver despite the heat his body gives off.
Making your way down his arms, you trace the lines of his tattoos before following the pattern down his chest. Reaching his thighs, your thumbs draw gentle circles into his muscles.
“Are you gonna fuckin’ touch me or what?” he growls, moving his hips to try and coax you closer to his aching cock.
You hush him, lips still pressed into the space above his collarbone. “Patience, baby.”
He shuts his mouth momentarily at the nickname. Even though he would always deny it, some part of him cherishes the sweet things you call him, holding onto every ounce of praise or affirmation that leaves your lips.
The honeyed whispers, the airy complements, make his heart flutter and gaze soften. He relaxes slightly, dropping his shoulders through a displeased grunt.
Your palms travel his body, moving up his thighs before traveling to his back, trailing kisses along his spine. He shudders at the softness of your lips, the warmth of your hands, as you cover every inch of him, his skin left tingling wherever you touch.
Right now, the key to getting him into the right headspace is to be gentle, loving, the exact opposite of how Sukuna normally is.
Knowing how impatient he gets, you are languid and methodical as you trace the ropes between your fingers. When you reach the ones tied over his wrists, he shifts again, tugging against the restraints.
“Y’know I could break out of this if I wanted to.”
“I know,” you hum, “but you won’t. Because you’re gonna be good for me, right?”
He pauses - he doesn’t want to demean his own strength, but internally he battles the desire to agree with you. He needs you to know that he’s better than this, obviously, but there’s a part of him, buried deep down, that needs to make you happy.
“Good boys use their words,” you prod in his silence.
He takes in an uneven breath as he fights a losing mental battle.
“I’ll…I’ll be good,” he mutters, gaze shifting down to avoid letting you see how dizzy the words make him feel.
Smiling, you place another kiss to his cheek, the action sending sparks through his body.
Your fingertips continue covering the rest of his skin, one moving down his legs as the other runs up his stomach, following the grooves of his abs. When you reach the front of his neck your hand loosely wraps around it, applying a gentle pressure to either side of his carotid.
Before this you had never dared to choke him, and even though this could barely be classified as such, something about it drives him insane. He feels immediately lightheaded, despite knowing that you didn’t hold on for nearly long enough to physically have that effect.
No, it was something else.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” he spits, trying to cover the moan that threatens to escape his throat.
His words nearly get a rise out of you, but knowing that’s his intention, you calm your breathing before you respond.
“Watch your language, sweetheart,” you scold softly, “you wouldn’t want me to have to gag you, now would you?”
The idea makes his heart race in panic. Thinking about being gagged doesn’t worry him, he realizes - no, the dread in his stomach is there for a different reason. Is he afraid of disappointing you?
Letting out an unsteady sigh, he shakes his head no. “M’sorry,” he mumbles.
You hold back a grin at his words, your heart beginning to race in excitement. Sukuna has never, ever, said sorry for something like this before.
It was rare that he needed to apologize for things, both of you knowing and respecting each other’s limits well. However, on the few occasions when he did something like leaving hickeys in more visible places than you liked, he would just brush it off with a laugh. “You didn’t really expect me to hold back when your cunt is that good, did you?” he’d tease with a smack of your ass.
Hearing him now, you can tell something in him has switched.
“That’s my good boy,” you coo, placing another kiss to his neck.
Hearing the name, a sound shockingly close to a deep whimper leaves his lips.
Your touch is so light, your lips so soft, your words so sweet, he wants to just melt, giving everything into you. Something about being physically held in place like this makes him feel safe, dependent; despite the tight ropes against his skin the only thing he can feel is you.
His head is spinning, thoughts getting fuzzy as you trace over his body, your gentle touch igniting flames of desire beneath his skin.
As you continue drawing your fingertips along him, the teasing slowly becomes too much, his mind clouded with the need for more as you feed him soft praises. His hips buck off the bed, his cock straining against the ties as precum begins to roll down his length.
“Please just fucking touch me,” he groans, voice so low it’s nearly a whisper.
“Just one second, baby,” you purr, trying to keep him calm.
Sukuna has always been demanding, wanting things done his way exactly when he wants it. As such, you know you have to be careful, balancing his desires with your control, placating his needs with tenderness.
A smirk crosses your face as you think up a way to satisfy both.
Holding your hand out in front of his mouth, you open your palm. “Spit,” you softly command.
His eyes widen, barely even noticeably, as he processes your words. There is absolutely no fucking way he’s about to do this, and the fact that you would even consider making him is foolish. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of your request, but before he can, he’s leaning forward, body moving on its own as he parts his lips, allowing droplets of saliva to pool into your hand.
What the fuck happened to him?
Pleased at his compliance, you smile. “Good boy, Sukuna.”
Your words make him nearly shake in anticipation, his mind dazed as your hand finds its way to his cock. Using the mixture of spit and precum you stroke his length, thumb twirling his flushed tip.
Another guttural groan leaves his throat as his eyes flutter shut, leaning his head back against you. He should be embarrassed, ashamed of how absolutely pathetic he’s being, but all he can think about is how good your hand feels wrapped around him.
Grasping at any last shred of control, he weakly thrusts up into you, his movements limited by the restraints
Bringing your free hand over to his hips, you hold him in place. “Stay still for me, okay baby?” you hum.
Letting go of everything, he gives in. His motions still as you continue stroking him, his mouth hanging open as he takes in uneven breaths.
Normally when he’s fucking you his thoughts are hurried, almost frenzied, as he plans how he’s going to ravage you. He taunts you, making you beg, soaking in every sound you release as he drills into you.
But now, his mind is quiet. The only thing he can focus on is the sound of your voice, your words of praise echoing through his entire body, amplifying his desire to please you, his need to be good for you.
Continuing your motions, the wet sound of your hand sliding up and down him fills your bedroom, his cock twitching in your palm as you glide over his length. From the way his chest begins to heave with each breath you can tell he’s approaching his release, his eyes screwed tightly shut in pleasure.
“Are you close, ‘Kuna?” you ask, head still resting on his shoulder from where you sit behind him.
He nods, a soft “Mhm” vibrating in his throat.
“Remember what I said? Good boys use their words,” you remind him.
“I-I’m gonna-”
You cut him off. “Good boys also ask permission.”
His breath hitches for a moment. He never begs. Never. It was always you, asking him to let you finish one more time, or pleading with him to soften up as he overstimulates you. He loved the way you’d get all whiney for him, but it was something he viewed as inherently beneath him.
But right now, he doesn’t fucking care.
“Let me cum,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.
“Say please.”
Fuck, is he really about to do this? Is he seriously this fucking pathetic?
“Please,” he whispers.
You can’t stop yourself from grinning, giddy at just how eager he’s become, how malleable he is under your touch.
“Go ahead, baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips against his neck.
Picking up your pace, your grip tightens ever so slightly around his cock as you reach his tip, a shiver racking his body as your other hand moves to gently massage his balls.
“Open your eyes for me, sweetheart,” you purr into his ear, breath hot against his skin. “I want you to see what a mess you’re about to make.”
Without a second of hesitation he complies, his gaze struggling to focus on his lap as he tilts his head down. His eyes are glassy, far away, as he moves, mouth still hanging open.
You both watch in awe as thick ropes shoot from his tip, coating his thighs in the sticky whiteness.
“That’s it, you’re doing so good f’me,” you coo, droplets of cum slowly pouring down his length as you coax him through his ecstasy.
He’s silent as he finishes, no words able to form in his head, too dizzy from pleasure to think. His blown pupils can only observe as your hand slows, lazily following your movements as you pull your cum-coated fingers to his mouth.
The moment he feels you on his lips he opens them further, allowing you to slide your digits in, too dazed in bliss to argue.
“There you go, doin’ s’good,” you murmur as he sucks himself off of them, his eyes fluttering closed.
Holding him against the warmth of your bare chest, his body begins to tremble as he comes down from his high, suddenly feeling the tightness of the restraints against his skin. Leaning up you pull your fingers from his mouth, gently placing a peck on his cheek as you get to work untying him
“You did so good, ‘Kuna,” you hum as you remove the ropes from his legs and wrists, kissing the indents left behind on his skin.
As soon as he’s free he wraps his arms around you, his body hot as he pulls you into his lap. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck, holding you still for a moment.
“You better not fucking tell anyone about this,” he mutters into you.
“Of course not,” you whisper, reaching a hand up to gently stroke the back of his hair. “Now, let me take care of my good boy and get you all cleaned up, okay?” you follow, peppering his face with kisses as he holds back a lazy grin.
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rayas-ryoiki-tenkai · 15 hours
Text
something a little different
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• tags: gojo/reader, 18+ minors dni, vibrator, semi-public smut
• summary: the vibrator presses against your clit and it drives gojo wild
•°. *࿐ this story contains explicit themes. minors dni •°. *࿐
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"It's fairly silent," soft, white hair bounces when he tilts his head, "no one will know."
He's watching you, peering down beyond his blackout sunglasses to what muscle twitches where, how you fill your chest slowly and expel in a sigh. You're thinking about it, of course, the tempting thrill, a silent pleasure that will shift so loudly in your bones. Gojo can already spot how your thighs attempt to shake the exciting tickle off them.
"It's not a cursed tool, is it?"
Gojo shakes his head chuckling, but damn if it was, he'd have found all there was to find in the archive back in his clan's base. Not that he seemed fond of rummaging through anyone's underwear, something told Satoru that cursed tool sex toys weren't a thing.
"I will have the remote, obviously," he leans further into the seat to spread his legs. God, even the thought of you searching his eyes in a crowd when you're fighting the stimulation on your clit, that plead to give you a merciful moment to breathe, what a pretty sight you'd be.
You bite your nails.
He gestures a lipstick-sized, and disguised, bullet vibrator to you in two feeble fingers. It dangles in a tease, calling to you in a breathy whisper, or maybe that's just Gojo.
You know it'll feel so good. A stir in your pelvis that your boyfriend could push over if he so willed it. You'll shake and cry.
"Fine," you give into the fire in his eyes, an ice that burns. You know something pulls you into him despite the evergrowing list of 'maybe this'll be a bad idea' festering in the forefront of your mind. Because if things go wrong, if you need swooping away from a messy situation, you just had to say the word.
Gojo stands up and your spine stiffens. His steps are paced, deliberate, kissing the tension with soft praises as he steps closer. His breath fans down your face, bright eyes drinking up the both of yours before resting on the plump part of your lips.
A finger trails at the base of your throat and he drags it up your windpipe, relishing in the nervous swallow that shifts the movement. Bony ridges and pliant skin, Satoru pulls his finger up underneath your chin, savoring the jittery wash of electricity that rushes through you.
You feel light. A breath. Your chest runs rampant from his closeness, the sheer intensity of his scent setting back your resolve as you stare at his lips too. Pretty and pink, one of the softest parts of him considering he's all slim built and toned muscle everywhere else. He inches to press them onto yours weakly, as if he hadn't decided how to merge your mouths together this time.
They grow firm when his finger and thumb tilt up your chin. A sure, needy thing. He kisses into you hard and sharp like a parched man, staggering in search for lady lake in vast heat. Open-mouthed and so fucking wet. And he's found his drink, favoring his sweet tooth with your sweet tongue.
Playing with your tongue, his other hand plays with the strap of your pants, catching onto the band of your underwear. You squeak into his mouth when his hand dips to place the vibrator into position against your clit.
Gojo smiles against your lips.
"You'll take it, right?" He breathes.
"I'll take it."
You submit.
-.--.-
"Shh shh," Gojo's palm squeezes around your mouth, catching loud moans before they fall on the ears of the public. Your fingers tighten in his shirt. Fuck, it feels so good.
The restaurant was oblivious to how you rocked your hips in one of their booths, a needy sight for Satoru to drink up and have his own problem in his jeans.
Purposely on the lowest setting, you ached for more, but Satoru was no where near to grant you that mercy. So, you turned to extreme methods.
Lifting your drink, you stuck your tongue out to curl around the straw, wet and sloppy. You sucked with a sensual hum in your throat, looking at him through your lashes. Gojo caught the full extent of your show and it shot straight to his crotch.
Oh, so you wanted to play that game?
Now, he presses you into the bathroom door, edging the intensity until your cheeks flush, your eyes lose focus and your knees buckle, just to knock it down again to leave you hanging. You dread at the sound of the remote clicking when you get so, so close to coming, Gojo abruptly tuning the vibrating near null.
So blissfully painful, your clit feels like it's on fire. The overstimulation stirs into an impending orgasm, but it's just not enough.
"Baby, you look so good like this," Satoru purrs, his breath tickling in your ear. You're desperately clinging onto him, fingers bunching into fabric, flexing and shaking as if you couldn't decide what to do with them. Gojo is drunk on the power, dizzy with how your pretty little face stretches into pretty little expressions. That curl of your brows. Your jaw hanging low.
You hum loudly against his hand, erotic and messy.
He all but watches you, gives you the attention to feel the spotlight of his flashy blue eyes, and it spurs you on more. Your thighs lack the strength but they squeeze together still; you just need a little bit more.
Fuck, it feels like your skin could burn through your clothes, your nipples painfully stiff against your dress and bra. Gojo drags his lips along your neck, hovering close enough to wash your body in pure electric bliss.
Metal clanks as Gojo unbuckles his belt, a hand immediately freeing his straining issues. He pulls a packet from his pocket, rips it with his teeth and rolls the condom to the base of his cock. Fuck, the way your eyes glaze over at his cock like you could already feel him fucking you into the door until you collapsed.
The desire runs rampant. You buck your hips.
Your words muffle behind his hand. The buzz of the vibrator almost drowns you out. He hears you clear enough anyway.
"Please, Satoru," he lifts from your mouth to hear you say it, "Let me cum, please. Fuck me good."
Your hands are shaky, finding uncertain purchase on his shoulder as he lines himself up, the angry tip of his cock coaxing itself with your leaking juices. The vibrator buzzes idly on the floor. Your breath is unsteady.
One push in and you're already so close.
Shit, he fills you up so good and so easily.
He bottoms out and stills. Your moans shift a pitch higher, so close to pulsing around the glorious shape of him in your walls. If he moves the slightest, you're so done for.
And fuck, he does.
Pulling out slightly to ogle at how wet you're around him, he slams back in to the hilt, kissing the spot that makes you shake the most. And you cum immediately, a loud pornographic moan right into his ear, your lower back pushing into him to shake off the insistent edging he gave you.
"Fuck," he mutters, and by God you feel so good fluttering around his cock, so warm and wet. His hips jut forward of their own accord, he can't hold it back any longer.
And he thrusts a sloppy pace to fuck you through your orgasm and rile up the next, the smacking and squelching of your hips spurring him on to fasten the pace. You cling to him, ankles locked around his waist, arms locked around his neck; you know you'd fall if he moved you away from the door.
Fuck, fuck, you feel it squirming again, your breaths stagger once more.
The bathroom door handle shakes, and when it doesn't budge, a loud knock resounds.
Before you have the voice to gasp, your head thuds the door and Gojo clamps your mouth with his palm again. His sunglasses are thrown wherever, and bright cerulean locks with your eyes. His pale eyebrows are curled dangerously.
He fucks harder, faster and for some unbeknownst reason, louder. His hips thrust purposefully, rough and angry, how dare someone impose on his focus to fuck you good?
Satoru rests his forehead on yours, daring you to pull away from the eye contact, not that you wanted to anyway. The sheer will to making you come apart on his cock again only added to your commencing orgasm. That wild look. A starved beast behind the front of wolfish grin.
The door knocks again.
Gojo snarls. His hips smack painfully and you whimper under his palm. Tears fall on the back of his hand. Your toes curl, teetering on the edge of another mind-fucked orgasm. Your eyes roll back. Your hums grow short and high.
"Shit," Gojo hisses when you clamp around him and immediately pulses inside of you as he cums. Cushiony walls milk him deliciously and he messily thrusts into you to ride it out. His breath is heavy, spent. Your chest pushes into him as you breathe shakily.
Satoru drops the palm on your lips. You can't help but laugh.
He certainly made you shake and cry.
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hanyacoded · 17 hours
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anytime, anywhere! megumi x reader drabbles, p. short
repost from old acc! reblogs are appreciated<3
megumi fushiguro x gn!reader
cws; none really, femcoded(?) reader, swearing, kissing, sus position but nothing more, idk. three different scenarios but one universe, this can be read as a standalone or a part two to this
wc: 574 total
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when yuuji finds out that you and megumi are together, he almost screams. he's raving like a madman–saying everything from i’m happy for you! to what the fuck do you mean you're dating now, so i spent like three hours worrying for nothing? 
by the time he finishes, megumi has an awkward smile on his face, and you're laughing bashfully. but yuuji has to admit that side by side on the couch, the two of you do look cute together. he leaves soon after, saying something about giving the newlyweds space. maybe he also feels guilty about the fact that he accidentally told you about megumi's terribly intense crush on you.
and when you're finally alone, megumi lifts your linked hands and shyly kisses yours.
\\\
you yawn, pushing yourself upright on your desk. there's still a considerable amount of time until class ends, but you're pretty sure you're gonna pass out before it does. glancing behind your shoulder, you look for your boyfriend, megumi, only to find him staring back at you. he looks tired too, but when your eyes meet his face breaks out into a lazy grin–one that leaves you weak in the knees.
as soon as your teacher leaves the classroom, students pour out of the large classroom. you wait, and so does megumi, until the room's almost empty. it's then that he approaches you, picking up your bag with one hand as you get up. intertwining your fingers together, he kisses the side of your head gently. 
“so, what's for lunch?” he asks.
before you can answer, though, he's shutting you up already. “coffee isn't lunch, baby.”
you pout, leaning into his touch. “whatever.”
\\\
you flop down on the bed beside megumi, glaring at nothing in particular. you've been ignoring him for over an hour now, but he's just not getting the hint. you cough loudly. he still stares at his phone, typing something on it. you cough again, in a way that's clearly fake. this time, he bites.
“what's wrong?”
you frown back at him, silent. megumi raises an eyebrow curiously, turning to you. within a second, he's maneuvered you into a position where he's hovering over you, and you're on your back beneath him. 
“oh-” you gasp, surprised, but he cuts you off. 
“everythin’ okay?” despite your position being inherently sexual, both his voice and his touch are soft. you stare at the tv playing behind you, resolute in your mission to ignore him. he tilts your head up so that you're forced to look him in the eyes.
“hmm?”
“what date is it?” you demand.
“what?” he's confused. 
“what date is it?” you repeat.
“the fourth of february?”
“and?” 
“and?”
“and the 14th?”
“oh!” he falls back onto the bed beside you with a wide grin on his face. “should've just told me, pretty.”
you pout. “i tried.”
“naaah,” he draws out the singular word, twirling a lock of your hair around his fingers. “telling me and ignorin’ me are two different things.” [im so sorry if ur bald]
you want to move away from his touch, but there's just something that keeps you from doing so.
“so,” he smiles lazily, “you gonna be my valentine or what, baby?”
the way he says it is just so damn attractive, and you can't help but blush as you nod. and when he pulls you into his arms, you hear the the words he whispers into your hair. “was gonna ask you soon anyways, sweetheart.”
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mylosz0 · 2 days
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awaa - i see your jujutsu kaisen request event!! please... date night with todo, please please please, i love him so much <3
Ahhh!!! Thanks for the request,sorry it’s late I’m currently sick so I had to delay it 😔, also I’ve been wanting to write for Todo sm <3 he’s so cute, he’s my baby.
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Todo who had it all planned, he was gonna pick you up and surprise you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers, compliment you from head to toe and give you the sweetest kiss. So why couldn’t he utter a single word as you stood right in front of him looking like the most beautiful human in the entire world.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” You said cheeks flushing from his stare as he moves closer to you.
“No no… you just took my breath away for a second there.” He grins cheeks flushed with a small blush as he leans down to give you a sweet kiss. “You look beautiful baby.”
Todo who drives you to get take out of any food you’re craving that night before taking it over to the little picnic area he had found earlier that week. He lights a few candles around you as you start digging in the food while you guys talked and laughed about anything and everything.
“I was bent down laughing over it.” He says laughing hard.
“Yeah I bet, I can just imagine Gojo’s face.” You say as you join him laughing.
Todo who cleaned up everything as you sat close to watch the moon. The moonlight hitting your face making you seem so ethereal. To him you’re always gonna be the most beautiful being in the universe not for a second would he doubt that. He couldn’t wait for the moment where he would ask you to marry him. Maybe in a few months when you graduate or years from now. But he knows you’ll be by his side forever.
“You’re so beautiful baby.” He says as he reaches a hand to your hair pulling it back to see more of you. “My beautiful girl.” He smiles tenderly as he kisses your cheek chuckling as he notices your small blush.
“Shut up.” You say playfully pouting trying to not smile, but failing as he brings you to his chest as his chest rumbles with a laugh.
“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” He kisses your head stroking your hair as you both enjoyed the warmth of each other for the rest of the night before he brought you home.
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thequeenofsarcaasm · 2 days
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Chapter three of Canary in the coal mine
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I’m sick of editing manga panels so I’ll just post summaries in the shape of memes from now on. (Until I get a brilliant idea or something)
Summary
In which Gojo is an award winning young author, who in order to write his last book, what he believes will be his magnum opus, decides to seek out and approach a highly sought after escort on whose experience he hopes to be able to base his novel.
Snippet
“Peru?”
“Higher.”
“Venezuela?”
“Not so high.”
“Ecuador?”
“Not so low,” Geto laughs again. “God. You must be terrible at sex.”
“Shut up,” Gojo says, trying to picture a map of the continent in his head. Eyes shut he mumbles a few information to himself and moves his fingers as if he had a map in front of him. That’s when he gets it. “YOUR MOM NUMBER TWO IS FROM COLOMBIA!”
“Yes,” Geto laughs, clapping for him. “Imagine how surprised I was when I first listened to ‘Llorando se fue’ and heard the verse in Japanese,” he says.
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bioplast-hero · 2 days
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(can't help the way I) feel
12k • mature • satosugu
“Satoru. Have you ever had a massage before?” The way his name melts off of Suguru’s tongue is dizzying, dazzling, so it’s too bad when the question after it hits him like a splash of cold water in the face. “Tch. I mean, sure I have.” Be cool. “Of course. Obviously.” Suguru’s mild smile doesn’t budge. It wears him down to nothing in two seconds flat. “Not exactly, no.” “That’s perfectly alright, you know,” Suguru assures. “There has to be a first time for everything.” Satoru cannot allow himself to think about all the first times he would give to this man.
musician!Satoru has never had a massage before. Unbelievable, now that he knows what (who) he’s been missing.
[Read the fic on AO3]
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angel13xo · 2 days
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as much as i hate sukuna...
he's a pretty fun guy! like ngl at first i thought "wow why's he kinda..." and in the first season he was fruity, funny, sparky, quirky yk? he had it all
and DONT get me started on the fanfics CAUSE I EAT THEM UP EVERYTIME ABOUT THIS MAN AND IDK WHYYYY CAUSE HES LITERALLY HEARTLESS GGGGRRRRRRR
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