Royal Guard Sukuna, Who's Knelt Down In Front Of You On One Knee, Eyes Fixated On The Ground. He Already

royal guard sukuna, who's knelt down in front of you on one knee, eyes fixated on the ground. he already swore his life to you years ago, when he first met you in the royal gardens whilst training. the ceremony now was just a formality.

he's fighting the urge to look up at you on the throne. just one small peek won't hurt he reasons. his heart thuds rapidly against his chest when your soft gaze meets his, a small smile on your lips. sukuna's just about to return your smile when a hand clamps itself on your thigh. he falters and follows the hand upwards to meet the smug face it belongs to.

emperor gojo is smirking down at him with steely blue eyes. 'know your place, fool,' they say. sukuna grits his teeth and drops his head, staring at the red carpet beneath your feet once again.

maybe in another life, sukuna would be born an emperor, with you at his side as his empress. he wouldn't have to put up with half the shit he does currently. but for now, whispers in the dark and fleeting glances during the day would have to suffice.

"Cleaning up?" Geto asks with a curious tilt of his head, watching as you lift another framed photograph from your bedside table. You smile, turning on your heel.  

"Yeah, that and I wanted to replace a couple of the pictures," you answer, gesturing to the photo frames lying face up on your bed. Geto follows your gaze, humming thoughtfully. "Want to help me pick them out?" 

Geto smiles, closing the distance between you both and placing a sweet kiss against your forehead. Your arms wrap around his waist, holding him close to you. His eyes wander down to the photograph in your hands – it was one of you, himself, Nanako, and Mimiko.  

Nanako and Mimiko are hanging off of Geto's outstretched arms, their lips turned upward in bright smiles. You're standing just in front of Geto, hands hovering beneath the twin girls just in case either one of them were to fall.  

"Don't replace that one," Geto says suddenly, reaching a larger hand out and taking the frame from you. He smiles at it, then returning it to your hand. You chuckle breathily, stepping out of his embrace and turning to glance at the other photographs you had laid out on your bed.  

"I like that one too. But what about these?" 

You receive no answer. 

"Sugu?" You turn back to where he had been standing, tilting your head curiously. The space he occupied was empty.  

"Mama? Who are you talkin' to?" Nanako peeks her head into your bedroom, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion as she pushes your door open. You still, eyes flickering down to the frame in your hands. Your fingers tighten over it, eyes pricking with tears. "Mama?" 

"Nothin' honey," you reply tearfully, smiling shakily at her as you swipe the backs of your knuckles against your eyes.  

"It was nobody." 

kento nanami is a man of self-restraint.

your philosophy professor, a rather basic man, whom everyone normally thought was a lonely man because of his strict nature and consistently stoic expression, suddenly finds himself drawn to one of his students, you.

he couldn't seem to resist you. he knows it's wrong, still, he can't help but think that you're doing this on purpose.. the way you come to class all dolled up in a skirt too short to be deemed appropriate.

and when you sat down he almost always broke his composure since whenever you crossed your legs he'd catch a glimpse of what he'd be getting after class.

anybody could notice the way you two look at each other if they paid close enough attention. but of course, nobody ever did. the way your eyes flicker... it's undeniable.

kento nanami is a man of self-restraint.

he's a man of self-restraint up until that one day when you came to his class during office hours to ask for "help" on the essay he assigned during class.

the way your thighs squish together while your tight pink sundress began to bunch up your legs.

kento nanami was a man of self-restraint. until he realized you weren't wearing any panties. he studied you attentively as you read your rough draft to him. sighing while scrunching up your little nose because you were frustrated with the assignment.

he knew damn well you were lying because although you're a little airheaded, your essays never failed to amaze him.

you bit your lip, mesmerized by how he looked, slumped down in his brown leather chair. and he was doing the same to you.

you were taunting him, at least that was what he thought. the way the ends of your nails end up between your teeth while you watched him edit your draft, thighs clenched together and nipples hard because of the cold air.

he thinks that that was probably how you wound up clutching his desk for dear life, thighs trembling while his fingers thrust in and out of your soaked cunt.

you felt the cold metal of the wedding ring on his finger on your thigh, but you didn't care, and neither did he. fuck it. you worked for it. you deserved it. much more than his wife.

you've daydreamed about this moment constantly, eyes eagerly searching for his. don't get him wrong, he knows it's wrong. he knows he shouldn't initiate whatever "this" is with you. but somehow, he found himself pushing himself into your cunt.

you groaned, cheek resting on the cold wood of the desk as your eyes rolled back into your head at the feeling, your nails made small scratchings into the wood while he forced himself in and out of you.

tears pooled on the surface of his desk, your mascara tinting your face with a black hue.

you mewl lewdly as he leans down to nibble on your ear, practically brushing against your back and pants in your ear. the sounds bouncing off the walls are obscene.

gasping, mere slapping noises, and his deep breaths send you into ecstasy. the kisses were chaste and gentle, compared to the inappropriate actions committed with each of his forceful thrusts.

you cried out as you creamed around his cock, cunt tightening around him, bringing him over the edge. he lets out an uneasy moan as he pulled out and released all over your back.

there was a brief moment of silence as the both of you came down from your highs, he was about to break the silence but his phone went off.

[ 1 new message]

honey, are you going to be working late again?

well, fuck.

taglist: @lickmyglockk @peachyminx

your beauty never scared me ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️ suguru geto

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!

Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…

...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.

It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…

...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.

The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking. 

She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you. 

There’s something peaceful about loneliness…

…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing. 

God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable. 

Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?

“You just haven’t found the right one!” 

“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”

“You gotta put yourself back out there!” 

Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it. 

The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…

…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was. 

Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…

…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism. 

So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?

Part of you feels guilty…

…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.

A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…

…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.

Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.

Sitting before you is the woman you love…

…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her. 

But in this moment…

…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating. 

You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all. 

Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again. 

But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?

You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…

…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?

Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it. 

It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?

You would accept her…

…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.

You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right? 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing? 

Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.

Does he know every little thing about you? Sure. 

Does he care for your well-being? Yeah. 

Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all. 

But so what? That's what friends are for. 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls. 

Fuck.

It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were. 

You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something…real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away. 

You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.

Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way. 

God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together. 

What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late. 

Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress. 

If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too. 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings. 

You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you. 

I'm not going through this again. I refuse.

You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.

The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right? 

Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.

“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble. 

Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce. 

After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.

“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.

Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them. 

Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”

“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on.  A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?” 

“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.

You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.” 

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin. 

He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.

Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.

He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.

The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.

“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you. 

Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.

He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours. 

“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.

“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.

Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.

“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.

He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be. 

He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”

And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all. 

Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.

Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you. 

“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru. 

He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his. 

“Me neither.”

In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.

Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh

my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!

alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼

tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke

likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated !!

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

“Shit princess—“ Gojo grunts, hands on your waist as you bounced up and down his cock, your back arching with a cry when you began to roll your hips in desperation.

You were going so fast, mewling each time your boyfriend’s cock nudged your g spot, your hands on his chest steadying your movements.

“Ahh- Satoruu.. so g-good.” you moaned, head falling back with another whiny cry as your nails dug into pale flesh. Teary eyes finally meeting his when you felt yourself getting close.

“Y-yeah? Like riding me like ya own it? Looking so pretty on top of there. ‘S all yours baby, all yours.”

His hold on your hips tightened, allowing you to dumb yourself out as your body trembled. Babbling his name amongst choked moans when you clenched down on him. Head falling back with a loud cry as you made a mess on his cock.

Gojo only looked up at you with a surprised grin when you kept going, his breathing speeding up when your pace got even faster. Letting out shaky whimpers as you continued to grind onto him in pure need.

Pussy dripping down his cock and onto his pelvis as you fucked yourself to yet another high.

Jealous? Nah. (Yes.)

Gojo x Fem Reader (part 1): MINORS DNI

In which, you befriend Suguru and it doesn't sit well with Satoru. He's sure it's just because he doesn't want to lose his best friend, right?

Content: Possessiveness, Jealousy, Eventual smut, Jujutsu College AU, Slight Toxic Relationship, Sexual Themes

(Authors Note: This started off as a oneshot but then I just kept on writing... and then I had more ideas for it. I also have a BUNCH of unfinished oneshots so im hoping by publishing this it will motivate me to actually finish something lmao.)

<3 -

Gojo knew he wasn't one to settle down. His ego was overwhelming to most and he was far too conceited to even think about a relationship- and yeah, even he admits he is (maybe) narcissistic. 

And he had every right to be. He was the chosen one after all and everyone dulled in comparison to him. He was the one that was blessed with a strength and technique nobody could compete with- he was THE Gojo Satoru.

So what absolutely confused him is how you always happened to enter his mind. Since at first, you were just another sorcerer that joined late at his school that he had to begrudgingly share his best friend with, since you were friends with him too after all. (but he reminds himself you two would never be as close as friends as he is with him.) 

But the dynamic soon changed when Suguru insisted on hanging out as a group after he couldn't help but complain that he didn't get so see him as often since she was taking all his time away. And he was absolutely frustrated over it, he should've just kept his mouth shut.

But the frustration didn't stem from you being obnoxious or difficult to be around, it was the complete opposite in fact. You were too nice. But not the kind where it seemed forced, it was actually genuine. You also easily engaged in conversations with anyone and everybody, instantly catching the attention of random people who wanted just a chance to be noticed by your gaze. And he admitted, you were captivating- but that only served to annoy him. It all meant nothing if you couldn't hold yourself in a fight. Being pretty served nothing when it meant you would die to a simple curse somewhere down the line.

But Satoru quickly had to eat his words after overhearing that you had been promoted to a Grade 1 sorcerer. How? You seemed so gentle and docile, he had just automatically assumed you were nothing above a grade 3.

He was sure it happened to be a mistake, that maybe another sorcerer was with you in a mission who did something impressive and you somehow got credit for it, or someone bribed the higher ups, or maybe you personally knew a higher up? That seemed more probable. And to investigate, he pulled some strings to have you sent out on a mission with him.

And god- he was getting real tired and of being wrong. You were completely different person when you were fighting. You were borderline chaotic, completely ruthless to curses and had a technique and fighting style he would have never expected from you. Your kind nature dissipated almost instantly, barely giving him time to process what was even happening. Safe to say you exorcised the curse without a problem. 

And ever since then, he found himself thinking about you too often, much to his dismay. Replaying the fight over and over again in his mind; how you dominated the humanlike creature with such ease, your body so graceful yet powerful, and how maybe... you were like that in other situations as well. Imagining how you would fight with him for dominance, taking on a different character that only he could see and nobody else - stop stop stop.

He groaned in frustration, getting up from his bed and ignoring the slight tightness in his pants. It was the wrong time to be thinking about these things, he had plans with the group, you included. Wait no- it was the wrong time all the time.

He then gave himself some leeway time to calm himself and his thoughts down. Well knowing he was going to be late to the planned lunch. Whatever, it was expected of him by now.

But what wasn't expected was the scene he happened to walk in to; everything seemed normal for the most part, everything except for the fact Suguru sat next to you, his arm extended across the top of the booth, dangerously close to being wrapped around your shoulders. 

Something about it made him upset, staring at the two intensely as he slowly walked over. He quickly attempted to fault it at the fact he was jealous over you stealing Suguru away from him, nothing else.

And to keep normalcy, he loudly gagged and motioned his hands towards his throat, 

"Gross, get a room."

Upon hearing his voice, Shoko rolled her eyes while the other two simply ignored him, continuing on their conversation. Or maybe they simply didn't hear him, but he still assumes they're ignoring him.

Satoru did not like being ignored,

"Tough audience.", he muttered as he slid into the booth directly across from you, letting his shoulders fall and setting his head face down on the table.

His behavior made you laugh lightly, finally turning your attention to the dramatic man,

"Traffic?", you questioned, well knowing he could get faster here without a car and more than likely, chose to be late. But you assumed it was nice to ask anyway.

Despite his attempts at sulking, he moved his shades down and lifted his head to meet your eyes upon hearing your voice, deeply breathing in, 

"Something like that."

The raven haired man next to you eyed down his friend, knowing something was bothering him. He had a suspicion, but he pushed it aside for now. He'll figure it out sooner or later. But for now, he just simple smiled at his friend, giving a simple wave. He also made sure to keep his arm exactly where it was too, maybe even letting it fall closer.  

And for the most part, the lunch went normal. Except for one, minor (okay major) thing;

For some extreme, bizarre reason- Gojo was nearly quiet the entire time. Quiet. Except for a few simple comments he couldn't help but make- of course.

But everyone knew it was extremely out of character for him. He was not one to simply go silent. His favorite topic to talk about was himself, he never missed an opportunity to humorously make fun of someone, or in return compliment himself in some manner. He never ran out of things to say.

So when the others were beginning to finish up, they had yet to mention the obvious elephant in the room. Simply choosing to ignore it- knowing the egotistical man would prefer to not have it mentioned than anyone insinuate that he has a problem or issue.

And everyone went on with their day like normal. Except for Satoru that is.

He sat on a chair in his room, his brows furrowed as he looked through his phone to find your social medias, desperate to find more about you. Something to ruin your personality, to prove that you weren't as a good person as you pulled off to be. Or maybe bad photos that could warp his image he had of you- that you were actually ugly and wearing really good makeup and not pretty after all.

But what he found only aggravated him even more. Your photos you had posted made you look ethereal, whether they were candid and simple or taken with the most highest quality and planned photoshoots. All your posts were absolutely social media worthy, showing the best angles of you. Of course they fucking were.

Your tagged photos also had nothing bad, but rather the opposite. Seeing you in group photos, you stood out drastically. Your smile brighter than anyone else's, your outfits better than any other girls'. But, who were all these people you were with? Were you that popular? He never really saw you with any other friends.

 And the older photos dating years back just showed how you only got better looking with age, not that you were ever bad looking in the slightest.

Still desperate, he began to vigorously look through your stories; mainly being met with more photos of yourself, your childhood pets, and random scenery. But he quickly stopped once he was met with a familiar face.

It was Suguru. And by the looks of it, it seems you befriended Shoko first and within a few weeks, Suguru began making an appearance onto your social media as well. Weeks ago. How did he not know about you earlier?

The familiar feeling in his stomach then returned after seeing a photo of only you and Suguru, clearly hanging out without anyone else. It only got worse as he tried to tap away from it but only got more and more pictures of the two of you; out eating, at a concert- fuck, he even recognized Suguru's shoe in the corner of a picture you took of your coffee. 

And if Shoko knew you first, why didn't she introduce him as well? Why only his friend? And how did you guys get so close so fast? He's still Suguru's best friend, right?

His deranged, icy eyes began to scan anything else your account would give him;

 You had a lot of followers and a lot of likes on your post.

So he went through each and every account that had liked your post, who followed you, or  who you followed.

He even deduced it down to who liked your posts the most, who you were actual friends with, people you seemed to have a falling out with and don't follow anymore, and possible romantic interests. Suguru was of course on that list, much to his disliking.

He's sure he was only like this for his best friends sake. He didn't want him to get in a relationship with a girl that didn't deserve him or had something to hide. Right?'

And after an hour of agonizing scrolling and searching, he finally threw his phone across the room in frustration.

He was determined to find something, anything. And once he was determined, it was only a matter of time.