Fighting Heaven And Hell To Have My Blue-eyed King Back. Idgaf Lol, Gimme My Baby.

fighting heaven and hell to have my blue-eyed king back. idgaf lol, gimme my baby.

pornstar!nanami who has a signature style to his videos—all of which are solo content consisting of him, manspreading in front of the camera in an awfully expensive suit. as his hands trace the muscles of his thighs, the seams of his trousers, the outline of his hardened cock.

pornstar!nanami who always takes his time getting to the good stuff, his voice silken as he speaks to those watching him. praise falls from his lips, which are always just out of view—the man doesn't dare show his face. something about professionalism and all.

pornstar!nanami whose videos usually end with him cumming into his closed fist, or into a toy if he's feeling so inclined. as a long time viewer of him, you've come to learn a few things about how he orgasms—he always bucks his hips up, chasing that instinct to breed. he always moans like he's in heat just before his climax, but because he's not great with breathing through his orgasms he chokes up just as he falls over the edge—it's a pretty sound.

pornstar!nanami who sometimes gets messy with it—he's such an organised and ritualistic man in his day-to-day that he sometimes just wants to let loose. sometimes, he'll only pull his cock out of his pants through the fly, and let the world watch as his precum dribbles all over those pressed pants of his. oh and does he go feral knowing that he's dirtying something so expensive with the receipts of his lust. who will stroke himself to completion just to watch his cum stain the fabric he's worked so hard to afford—there's no explaining that away to a drycleaner.

pornstar!nanami who likes to imagine it's a pretty thing riding his thigh that wrecks his trousers. wonders how many of his viewers touch themselves to his videos, hoping the could take him for all he's worth as well.

pornstar!nanami who, after a particularly messy session one day, gets an email after uploading his video. it's not even been ten minutes, which was the length of his video, so he assumes whoever has emailed him came particularly fast to that one.

pornstar!nanami who was more than right in his assumption. because as his eyes rake over the email sent by an adoring fan, he sees about a million different typos that indicate nothing other than messy fingers and a fucked-dumb typist. in your barely legible email, you explain that Mr. Nanamis videos are tagged 'near-you', and you'd happily offer your services as the next sex toy he uses to fuck-and-film in exchange for an orgasm or three.

and oh is pornstar!nanami intrigued. because his life is a busy one, he's a businessman when the sun is up time is precious and human connection is a scheduling conflict—his videos aren't solo out of preference, poor nanami, the pornstar, is a virgin.

pornstar!nanami who, after a few weeks of back and forth and some genuine conversation, ends up with his camera flashing red as you sit naked on his lap. and oh are you happy with the sight of him, blonde and sculpted to perfection underneath those lovely suits of his. Your ass is on display to anyone watching, upper half out of shot as your teeth clash with his.

pornstar!nanami who can't help the sounds he makes when you grind against his clothed cock. your slick, your pooling lust, it smears over the fabric of his pants and leaves a gloss behind in turn. he's ravenous, holding onto your hips and grinding you down against him in all the right ways. who moans into your mouth, already a little pussydrunk and he's barely had a taste of you.

pornstar!nanami who hopes he isn't unseemly in the way he manhandles you to sit properly on his lap. he knows you're as desperate as he is, what with the way you slip your hands down to undo his belt and pull his cock free. your fingers wrapped around his length is enough of a narcotic to cum on the spot, though he steadies his reeling mind and holds out.

pornstar!nanami who offers to fuck you on his fingers first, to use his tongue to warm you up and get you ready for his, frankly overbearing, size. but you're insistent, eager, and lowering yourself onto his aching cock with a kiss to his lips and a sharp inhale shared between you.

pornstar!nanami who thanks whatever god may be out there for letting him film a glimpse of heaven.

pornstar!nanami who can barely keep himself together as you ride him like he's the toy at hand. he's sure he's never been this vocal for his viewers, moaning alone is a feat that is hot at best and hauntingly awkward at worst—this, though—he's never been so mindless. and you love it. all the videos you've watched where his voice is smooth and confident and he's the picture of put-together. having such a man, a gentleman like nanami, absolutely melting with each clench of your dripping pussy around his length? it's an aphrodisiac in itself.

and when you catch onto the fact that pornstar!nanami is about to cum—the bucking of his hips, those drawling moans, the hitch of his breath—you kiss him stupid, and then speak against his pretty swollen lips. 'breathe'

and oh does pornstar!nanami breathe. a desperate droning moan escapes his breath, right into your mouth as he empties himself inside of you like he's trying to give you his last name.

pornstar!nanami who can't help himself. flipping you over and onto your back, pressing you into the mattress as he continues to fuck into you. he's going to pull as many orgasms out of you as he can—it doesn't even register in his mind that, due to the new angle of your bodies, he's just let the world see his face, and the pretty pussy drunk blush that paints it pink.

“GOODBYE, MY LOVE.”

tags: villain!gojo x fem-sorcerer!reader, ANGST, takes place during shibuya incident, ex-relationship, heartbreak, sad ending, **mentions of blood and death**, kissing, clone technique, etc.

w.c: 0.9k (so short lol)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR 1.4K! IM SO GRATEFUL FOR ALL OF UUUU 🧡🧡

you walk cautiously down the dimly lit alley in shibuya, where the echoes of abandoned streets linger like ghosts of the terrified citizens who fled from him. the air is thick with a sense of foreboding, each flicker of the overhead lights casting eerie shadows that dance around you. you nibble on your bottom lip, nerves tightening your chest as the crackle of electricity from exposed cords sparks anxiety in your veins. you know who awaits you at the end of this alley, and it’s your duty to protect the non-sorcerers from him, but deep down, you know it feels utterly impossible.

the flickering lights reveal disturbing trails of blood that lead deeper into the narrow passage, a dark reminder to his violence. the metallic scent fills the air, suffocating you as you sense his presence—gojo. he stands there, tall and imposing, leaning against the wall with a sinister smirk that sends chills down your spine.

“so, you got my letter,” he rasps, stepping closer with a predatory grace, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. as he closes the distance, he towers over you, his figure casting an ominous shadow that feels like a weight pressing down on your heart. his once-bright blue eyes are now clouded with darkness, a chilling exhaustion etched on his features that tears your heart apart.

“come back, ‘toru—you don’t have to do this,” you plead, your voice trembling with desperation. he scoffs, a flicker of rage flashing across his face. no one understood the anger he’d bottled up until he exploded, nearly obliterating the jujutsu leaders in his wake.

“isn’t your mission to come finish me, hmm? how do you think the students would ever look up to you?” his voice drips with mockery, a twisted amusement that makes you feel small. he toys with your hair, a bittersweet reminder of the affection he used to show. “jujutsu sorcerer failing to protect society because of a lost lover—c’mon, baby, you’re better than that.” leaning down, he whispers in your ear, his breath hot and suffocating, and you feel the last remnants of your resolve begin to crumble.

“i-i missed you,” you whisper, your lips quivering as tears spill down your cheeks. memories of laughter and warmth flood your mind, reminding you of what you’ve lost. gojo hums softly, pulling you into his chest, cradling your head as you break down into sobs. you cling to his bloodied jacket, your face pressed against the fabric, feeling the warmth of his heartbeat against your cheek.

“haven’t i taught you to be stronger than this?” he softly scolds, yet his voice is laced with tenderness that only makes the ache in your chest worse. you tighten your grip, desperate to cling to this fleeting moment of comfort. “leave that shitty place. you’ll have more freedom.”

your brow furrows, is this an offer to join him? does he care for your well-being? you reluctantly release your hold on his jacket and look up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of sincerity.

“careful, ‘toru, you’re showing your soft side,” you warn, your heart breaking at the sight of his smile. he moistens his lips, leaning closer, the air thickening with an unsettling tension. “you know i never have shame when it comes to you.”

then, without warning, he cups your face in his hands, his touch both gentle and terrifying. your heart races as his lips crash onto yours, a desperate collision of longing and pain. this kiss is a storm of emotions, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. his lips are rough yet intoxicating, and as he deepens the kiss, you feel his tongue slip past your lips, exploring with a fervor that makes your head spin.

you’re crying now, tears streaming down your cheeks, mixing with the blood on his jacket as you melt against him. the kiss is both a reunion and a farewell, filled with desperation and longing. your heart feels like it’s being ripped from your chest as you taste the salt of your tears on your lips, each sob threatening to pull you under. gojo pulls you closer, his grip tightening, and you can feel the fear radiating from him, a man both haunted and terrifying, his very presence a reminder of the chaos he’s unleashed.

distant screams and monstrous laughter fade into the background, overshadowed by your guilt—guilt for neglecting your duty, for choosing this moment over the lives of others. as he parts his lips from yours, a glistening string of saliva connects your mouths, a stark reminder of your betrayal and the grim reality of your choice.

your heart nearly stops as you see gojo glitch before your eyes, his body flickering like a broken light, an unsettling reminder of the monster he has become. you step back in fear, only to bump into another hard body—gojo? you spin around to see him standing behind you, blue eyes glowing ominously, a look that used to strike terror into the hearts of curses. panic surges within you as you realize what he’s done.

“‘t-toru… what are you doing?” you stammer, trembling as the weight of two identical figures looms over you. the realization sinks in that he has developed a new technique in his absence.

a cloning technique, that bastard.

“i’m sorry, baby. i truly am.” his voice is eerily calm, almost soothing, as he extends his fingers. a bright red aura swirls into a menacing ball of energy that blinds you with its brilliance, illuminating the alley in a eerie light.

“i hope to meet again soon, my love.”

thinking ab virgin!sukuna who had no interest in sex until he lost his vcard. thinking ab how he tries to get laid every chance he gets after he fucked for the first time—fucked you, specifically. People think he’s a sex addict but really, he’s just trynna find someone who made him feel as good as you did. Since you’re nowhere around now, or you just vanished off the fucking earth, he’s gonna keep sleeping with everything that moves just to feel himself cumming as much as he did inside you.

Kento Nanami - Jealousy

Warning(s): none tbh ??

word count : 476

- minors dni

“i thought you didn’t care about me. you barely even look in my direction!” you protested, after learning how you were making him jealous.

you thought he didn’t care for you or what you did with your personal life — given his rather aloof and taciturn nature. so it was an obvious shock to you when he seemed to be on edge about who you’ve been seeing and sleeping with.

“And who said that? who said i didn’t want you? need you?” he suddenly raised his voice, creeping closer to you, obviously vexed.

brows furrowed together in obvious confusion, you were simply left speechless.

being in an arranged marriage with Nanami Kento was far from what you would have expected or imagined. he gave you barely any attention and treated you like a common fly on the wall. whoever said marriage was the greatest step in life must’ve been lying. the frustrating thing was: you found Nanami extremely attractive and hot. not knowing if he felt the same way seemed nearly impossible of a task though. so in false hopes of drowning any thoughts of your stoic husband, you had a shameless habit of bringing home men you had just met with you.

unbeknownst to you, seeing you walking around your shared apartment half naked the next day, so relaxed and comfortable, not caring for the possibility of being caught in a precarious situation made his chest clench up weirdly and a bulge grow in his slacks everyday coming home from work. fists clenching, jaw clenched, and boiling with jealousy, Nanami had enough of this situation between the two of you. he wanted you, so desperately he couldn’t handle it anymore.

“all those times..” he wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. “all those men… it should’ve been me. and only me.” his voice now weak yet resolute.

his lips clashed with yours, pulling you into a long heated kiss. his long digits desperately teasing and giving short squeezes to your ass, trying to pry your panties off and down your legs.

“What is this?” you questioned softly against his lips, liking how they osculate your neck.

he could only shake his head and pick you up in his arms, untelling. you felt yourself sink into the softness of your mattress and in a blink of an eye, you were stripped of any clothing you might have been wearing, the garments lazily discarded on the bedroom floor along with his own.

“Kento…” you moaned as he squeezed your hips with his rough and calloused hands, his teeth grazing your hardened nipples from want. groaning as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, you felt his shaky breaths gently caressing your ear as he went to align his throbbing tip to your entrance.

“finally…” he whispered lowly, sinking into your warmth.

[Sukuna x possessed!reader, demonic possession, religious undertones, d/s relationship, body control, smut, manipulation and gaslighting, dubcon ig, nipple play, kinda fucked up <3]

It’s all in your head. 

Dark bedroom. Moonlight outside. Smudged outlines of the nightlife out the window: distant club-goers, cars speeding down the street, flashy signs of 24/7 convenience stores.

You’re going insane, doll. 

Blankets are too heavy, too warm, a coffin-like pressure burying you alive deep underground– tear it off, tear it off you. Your pyjamas are drenched in cold sweat, your hair stuck dirty onto your red forehead, brushing into your teary eyes. Itchy, irritating, everywhere. Tear if off, get off, get off me. 

You strip off your clothes, your underwear, you try to scratch your skin-shell out. Get out, get away. It’s not working. He’s here. He’s in you. 

I’m always inside you. You’re mine. My darling doll. 

Ryomen Sukuna.

Yes, puppet? His voice echoes in your head, it mixes with your thoughts until you can’t separate you from him. 

You’ve been seeing him out of the corner of your eye for a while now. A glimpse of a moving shadow here in the corners of your room… and then nothing. A breath down the back of your neck… and then nothing. A weight over your chest as you slept… and then nothing when you woke up. Each time he gets closer and bolder. 

Don’t take my name in vain, doll. Come to me. 

You are wrenched to stumble to the floor-length mirror beside the bed. Do you walk, or are you being walked? You can’t tell anymore. You can’t feel anything other than the intense burn in your left arm as Sukuna’s markings manifest onto it. 

What do you say? 

“Thank you,” you reply, sweet plaything that you are. In the mirror, you can see yourself clearly: your naked skin scratched red with your nails, your hair messed, his markings stamped onto your left, eyes possessed. 

Sweat drips between the curve of your breasts. Your cries and gasps delight Sukuna as you lean over the mirror in pain again: the markings burn into your right arm now. 

A reward for your pretty words. Don’t you want more, sweetheart?

Who says your words? Whose lips move when you speak? Who are you? 

“I do, master. I want more.” 

Your sobs are loud. But Sukuna says that this is all inside your head. And inside your head there is just you and him. No one will hear you cry and beg. 

Sukuna’s markings hurt your pretty face as they appear. It’s a familiar pain now, one that claims a promise of something more. Lines across your cheeks, chin, nose and forehead. It’s as if he’s leaving kisses. 

Look into the mirror. Who do you see?

“You.”

Who do you belong to?

“You.”

He’s pleased. Kneel, doll. 

Down on your knees you await further burn. It trickles down your neck along with your tears, it caresses down your shoulders, it flows down your chest. Stings like hellish love.  

Goosebumps. Tight breaths. A blush over your marked face. Your fingers move to wet them inside your mouth and then pinch your pebbled nipples. “Ahhh~” Sukuna enjoys you. “Master, nghh, ah~”.  

Spread.

Your thigh split, your cunt exposed to the mirror. The final marks, around your thigh and right above your mons, sear into place. You have yet to recover from the pain when a hand leaves your breast and strokes through the patch of your womanly hair to spread your cunt open. Two pairs of hellfire eyes watch you. They watch you all the time. Everywhere. Inside and out.

He doesn’t let you touch, though. You simply kneel in that position, an open hole for display, your arousal dripping down your thighs and ass, every muscle pulled taut in your body, tits heaving as you puff and gulp, skin shining with moonlit sweat. Every inch of you is under his control. 

Perfect as porcelain, my doll. His monstrous laughs sound and resound in your head until nothing else but him remains. Ryomen Sukuna. No one else. No one else understands. No one else can see. It's just you and him. 

Your heart beats so desperately. You can taste him on your tongue. You can feel his many hands all over your stinging skin. You can’t think straight but– it must be– if you could but make sense of it–Sukuna–this must be love. 

And just like that, it’s over. The markings are gone. You collapse onto the floor of your bedroom. 

I’ll be back tomorrow night.

a/n: the italised and bold words are thoughts. which are of the possessed and which of the possessor?