Animals - G.S.

Synopsis. Yes, your best friend is secretly an alpha. Yes, he acts like a fúcking anímal when he rúts. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alíve.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Gojo, rúts, best-friends-to-lóvers, creampíes, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, knots, MARATHON SÉX, overstím, knots, MATÍNG BÍTES, cúmplay, OMÉGAVERSE AU, pússy-spánking, héats tríggered, semi-public, matíng press, oraI (fem), slight bondagé, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 7.0k (uh-oh)

A/N. Nanami always gets the short end of the stick LMAO, anyway hope y’all have the loveliest week <3

“Satoru, you’re being strange.”

Granted, Gojo Satoru acting weird wasn’t anything new.

Especially not when he’s two hours deep into the most droning meeting you’d bribed him into attending as of late - knee bouncing, fingers tapping, head turned towards that firmly shut door like he just wanted to escape. Needed to.

Then again, even you found your attention waning. Finding whispering with your best friend much more interesting than whatever latest mission statistic Yaga had to present.

“M’doing just peachy, sweetheart.” Gojo smiles - but it looks stilted, pained. And even through his blindfold, you already knew his snowy brows were furrowed. “Who’s the one not listening to ol’ man Yaga now?”

You scoff, narrowing your eyes down at his figure beside you - draped over the cool mahogany table as if he owned the place. “Well- you better not be faking sick to get out of this meeting. Again.”

He only hums, “Don’t worry your pretty lil’ h-head about it, m’kay?”

With a final, tired rub at your temples, you’re turning back to Nanami to ask for all the world where Yaga was on his fifty-page report now-

And then, it hits you.

Suddenly.

Something smells sweet.

Like candy - particularly that sugary, strawberry-flavored kind you’ve had to tell Gojo off on more than one occasion for eating too many of. Tilting your head just a bit, you think you could also catch hints of honey and pine, such a strange, hypnotic combination.

“S-Satoru…” your words come out in a syrupy gush, feeling your head whirl.

“Hm?”

And despite yourself, you’re taking in deep, heavy inhales of the air surrounding you. Hungry. Mouth salivating as that heady, perfumed whiff clouds up all your senses. “Do you- hah- what is- do you smell-”

“Ngh- no?” he’s cutting you off with a barely-audible groan, one you probably wouldn’t have even caught if your abilities weren’t so sharpened right now. Gojo’s movements seem sluggish, languid as if he was moving through molasses when he raises up one hand to massage the back of his neck.

You can only watch as his head droops down onto the long table with a wince.

Strange. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have almost thought-

No, there was no time to be entertaining wild conspiracies. Because at this very moment you’re too caught up flitting through the dates of all your previous heats in your mind. Urgently.

Three weeks.

Your next heat wasn’t due for another three weeks. So, sure, you didn’t take your suppressants just yet but, that really didn’t matter, did it?

It wasn’t normal for jujutsu sorcerers to be anything other than a beta - and as an omega, you knew firsthand just how difficult it was to fight tooth and nail just to be able to sit at this table.

Historically, any other faction of society would rather be caught dead than outed, and have their second gender be taken advantage of by the very curses you were supposed to exorcize. Forced to face the stigma of alphas and omegas being too “unstable” or “vulnerable” to be trusted with missions.

This was the very thing you’d been trying to avoid ever since you argued your way into studying at Jujutsu Tech - losing control.

Especially now.

But god, you were burning up. It smelled so sexy.

And, taking a sweeping glance around the table of betas - at your fellow sorcerers, those grim elders, and your disheveled best friend - that left only you to explain the scent.

You were only thankful that their noses weren’t as powerful as yours. Clinging onto this as a saving grace, with a shaky gulp, you gently nudge Nanami on his side. “Hey- Ken?”

“Yes?” And maybe it was the heat - whatever this was - but Nanami’s deep baritone sends shivers down your spine, and you find yourself leaning in traitorously closer to his heated body. His jaw ticks, “Is something wrong? You look…”

“Satoru’s also-”

“So what?”

Without warning, one of his hands comes to splay out across your forehead. Just a mere touch has him sucking in a sharp gasp, “You feel warm, I think you have a fever. You can’t continue the meeting like this.”

You shake your bleary head in protest.

“I won’t let you.” Nanami’s voice hardens with a tone of finality, and yet, you still find yourself trying to whirl around to look at Gojo. Maybe for help, maybe for a distraction to escape when your colleague speaks again - this time directed at Yaga. “Principal Yaga, it seems my dear friend here is sick.” Circling an arm around your shoulders to pull you up from your seat and onto weak legs. “If you’ll please excuse us, I will escort-”

Nanami stills - everything stills.

Everyone stills when his voice tapers off with a ragged grunt, and you feel his chest heave in unsteady breaths. So close now that you can mark the exact moment Nanami’s eyes widen, “Are you…”

Shit.

Shit shit shit-

“Wait.” Yaga’s voice bellows reproachfully. “Is this- That smell-” But even he can’t find the words, slumping back down into his seat.

Truly, the scent was so saturated now, so primal that even the most stubborn of unmated betas were sneaking peeks at you. You bite your lips raw at another glossy gush from your already-heated cunt. It was so embarrassing - your heats have never acted like this before, let alone come three weeks early.

Sure, perhaps that one time on your very first day at Jujutsu Tech itself - which was embarrassing by itself. And, yet, your mind had never been clearer than it was right now.

Eyes sliding over to a familiar, trembling mop of white hair - never been needier.

Fuck, what was your delirious self thinking-

As if drawn by an invisible string, Nanami’s inching impossibly into your hot proximity, hazel eyes falling half-lidded when he takes in a deep whiff. Grumbling, “My love-” Another. And another. Nose almost grazing your pulse now, “-you’re in-”

Slam!

“Out.”

It’s a threat.

That was the first thought that slammed into you, and then the voice continues, slow, snarling like a predator on the edge of ripping something to shreds. “I won’t repeat myself.”

Before you finally understand, it’s a command.

There’s one strong hand around your front, pinning you against a sculpted chest. Something about it has your pulse booming in your ears, fingers clawing at that pale wrist at your shoulder. Yet, he doesn’t even flinch.

Nanami, however, reluctantly detaches his hands from your body, and you finally have enough strength to look towards the origin of the words. Only for your glassy gaze to meet with a towering Gojo Satoru standing at his full height - when did he even get up?

Jaw clench, sharp canines bared, blindfold dangling haphazardly around his neck - ah, he looked like a man that crawled from hell and back simply to take you all along with him.

With you at lucky number one.

First in his line of sight. Close enough that you can finally smell him.

Oh.

And you swear you saw his eyes tint with the faintest blue lightning when your own scent perks up. Boring into you for just a millisecond before narrowing his gaze down at a stupefied Nanami, cracking the kinks in his neck. “Unless ya wanna watch.” He bares the rest of the room with his flooring glare, “Unless all of you want to watch.”

It’s chaos.

They understood - perhaps long before even you did.

Chairs clatter, the desk trembles, and that safe haven of the door is swung open. That weezing council of elders are first to stumble over one another into the hallway, Yaga following shortly with a wordless sigh.

Until the only ones left are you and him - and Nanami.

Blond brows raising, his eyes flit frantically between you and a possessive Gojo. Sputtering out, each word jagged, and dry as if they’re being wrenched from his chest. “What is the meaning of this- We- I thought you were a- a beta.”

Everyone did, and Nanami was speaking what your mind couldn’t right now.

Gojo Satoru always presented himself as a beta - never affected by your heats, never disappearing once every few months for his ruts as you remember Suguru did. He always seemed so normal - perhaps the one thing about him that was. Unaffected by the stupid little trials and tribulations of alphas and omegas in sorcery.

But it was undeniable, he was an alpha.

And taking a deep inhale of his saccharine sweet perfume - so overpowering - he might just be the strongest you’ve ever encountered. How fitting.

“You thought.” Gojo’s voice was clipped, rumbling with a low growl that sent electrifying shivers down to your very cunt. And his tone just makes Nanami jolt. “And I can’t right now so I- fuck-”

Gojo’s body wracks with a violent shudder, making him hunch over - with you in tow. His hot breath puffs out in feverish pants near your ear, abs clenching as another velvety wave of pheromones emit from him.

You mewl when your body is jostled in his toned arms, nudging the very curve of your ass - tight uniform skirt hiking up just enough - so that you push in a slow drag against something rock-hard. Massive. Weeping out in a sticky damp spot that seeps into your skin.

“Hah-” you’re gasping, face swirling to nose up the crook of his neck - where the candied scent was most prominent. “Toru–”

There’s a gasp - and it’s not from you this time.

Both you and Gojo are snapping your dazed heads upwards at a frozen Nanami, his hand shooting to cover his nose. Eyes wild- “I-”

Before thinking better of it, it seems like Nanami opted to keep some part of his sanity as he abruptly turns on his heels without a second glance backwards. Marching robotically, the only moment he stops is once he’s at the doorway. One hand tugging on his suddenly too-tight pants, the other on the doorknob. Eyes still trained forwards when he calls out gruffly, “Don’t break the table, insurance doesn’t cover it.”

SLAM!

Finally alone.

Your vision swims - is the door even locked? Is this- God, you feel hot. So hot - too hot.

And Gojo’s burning up, arms wrapping around you so tight that you could feel the way his skin flushed with a thin sheen of sweat. He breathes out into your ear, “My pretty girl…”

“Oh sh-shit–” you’re whimpering, big fat tears welling up behind your eyes. And without wasting a second, as soon as it splatters hotly on your best friend’s skin, he licks a long, lazy stripe to lap at the hazy saltiness. Babbling away, “Feel so dizzy hngh- and you- you’re an alpha?”

Honestly, part of you still didn’t want to believe it.

But as soon as he husks out a gravelly moan, as soon as his tongue dips down a wet pathway to the scent gland on your neck - you already know you won’t be making it out of this alive. “Why did you hide it from me?”

“Mhm- fuck! m’sorry.” he grunts into your skin, slightly muffled. Nipping ever-so-slightly, “M’sorry m’sorry- had to- my sudden rut made my- hah, made my pretty omega go into heat, didn’t it?”

His soft palms glide down your trembly body, greedily kneading every dip and curve that comes his way. He’s lost. So, so lost.

Plastering his lips down every inch of skin he could reach, that sweet scent sticking to you like a sloppy second skin. And you can barely even think when you feel his swollen dick just twitch behind you, a fresh wave of swelteringly hot precum sloshing right through your silken skirt.

You whimper when you’re rutting messily back and forth, and he drags a thick thumb to pry your spit-glossed lips open. “Aww, poor baby. Tell me- fuck tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

And all you can really give him right now is a circular swivel of your hips, which evidently wasn’t enough.

Because Gojo’s furious tip only hardens, and he hisses with a slight tug up your skirt. Cold fingers dancing ravenously up the edge of your drenched panties, gliding the very rounded tip of his index slowly across your sopping slit.

“Tha’s not enough.” he snickers, and suddenly you’re hit with another wave of emanating pheromones. Enough to make you just slobber a glistening coating all down his long digits. “Use your ah- w-words like a big girl now. Because when I start…” His teeth find your earlobe, and his fingers find themselves planting a dripping wet slap! across your puffed-up clit. Unwavering. Unapologetic. “I won’t be able to stop.”

“Please, Toru.” That cute little nickname makes him jump, makes him throw his head back with a low moan. Brows scrunching together as if pained. “Don’t want you to stop-”

Maybe you were going to say more - maybe you would’ve called him that nickname and driven him even crazier.

But Gojo doesn’t wait to find out.

In one, fluid motion he’s picking up your body into the easiest princess carry you two would’ve laughed at if this was one of those romcoms you watched together. Just splaying you out on your back across the cool table, he situates himself in the perfect position between your legs.

Oh, how he loved this view. How he’s spent so many ruts just like this imagining this view.

“F-fuck- You have no idea how- how crazy it drove me.” rasping groans drag out from his throat, strained with every slow drag of his cock down the front of your now-see-through panties. “How wild-” You’re nearly screaming when his canines dig in to that soft spot underneath your ear. “-to pretend I didn’t know you smelled so hah- so fucking delicious.”

And then you feel him still - alert, ready.

Chest heaving, an almost chilling tone dipping into his words when he spits, “Except when you smell like him.”

Your jaw falls slack when the temperature in the room heats up another few heady degrees, and the sheer power of your two scents mixing together is almost maddening.

“He- he? Toru, what do you-” you’re gasping out in tiny huffs, while he busies himself with biting and licking down your exposed neck. Enough to leave you smeared all over with marks. “Who- Kento?”

“Oh, sayin’ another man’s name when you’re with- fuck- me?” Gojo’s bucking powerfully into you, his body was pinning you down. Scorching, now. “Such a naughty omega- I should kill him for how he touched you.”

Truly, his alpha was fucking clawing at him to trek out of this room right now and finish off the job - but, no, you were too hypnotic. And Gojo Satoru, the strongest, was no match for you.

The wet thwack of his fingers once more kisses in a rude smack against your clit, making you squeal. Ringing across your thundering ears, he swears at that broken, blissful noise from you. “Fuckin’ oh, would ya let him see you like this, too? Let him touch you like th-this?”

And Gojo looked so starved, velvety blindfold tickling your chin when he leans in close. Lips ghosting your own - but not quite. You’re suddenly brought back to the very first thought you had - that this is about to be a bloodbath.

“I wouldn’t–” you bite back in your honeyed tone, and you can feel your omega just purr in satisfaction. “N’ it’s not my fault that someone-”

Smack! Harder, sprinkled with tiny bolts of electricity.

“Correct.”

It’s breathed out into your mouth - a quick, hedonistic peck. Gojo just taunting your sanity before he’s pulling away with a gruff string of profanity, like it hurt him just as much as it did to you.

You feel your slick dribble down into a saturated puddle below you. And the mere sight of it makes Gojo just reel his hips deliriously forwards, grinding his massive bulge across your dripping cunt until you could see it soil a fountainy dark patch on his pants.

“F-fuckin’-” his eyes roll to the back of his head at how hot you were. How pouring wet. Wrangling your quivering legs painfully stretched open, “-woman of my dreams.”

With two, thick fingers hooked over the hem of your skirt, it’s being torn off in an easy pull. Falling somewhere in a pile of impractical tatters onto the meeting room floor, along with your shirt.

And as soon as it’s off, Gojo’s only growing more feral. More hungry.

He’s drooling from one corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t even notice at this point. Honestly, barely even realizing the burning pain when he falls to the floor on his knees. Clattering haphazardly, insatiably nosing up your jittery inner thighs.

“Oh sweetheart- oh my pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl–” he’s breathing out, head lolling drunkenly against your legs. And Gojo gulps when he spreads your panties away with a wet glide of his thumb, just enough to see your messy hole winking up at him eagerly. All soaked and needy. “M’gonna have so much fun being yours.”

He kisses wetly through your panties - without warning, without even breathing. Just surging his pretty face into the heated crevice between your thighs, taste buds on his pinkish tongue grazing up the soaked fabric.

Like he was addicted.

“Oh- oh my god-” you’re mewling out, lower lip wobbly at every sultry swirl of Gojo’s tongue over your pussy lips, painting your messy hole in every mesh of slick and spit he could conjure up. “It feels too- hah–”

You were always so sensitive during your heats, every single one of your senses heightened to the max. So it made your mind all overwhelmingly melty inside to have his steaming hot mouth on your equally ravenous cunt. Hungry.

Yeah, he was addicted.

Dragging a few fingers in-between your glistening folds, scissoring them shamefully open to spit. Once. Twice.

Some of it splatters strayly onto the start of your thighs, which Gojo glady licks up all over again to stream out a thick wad back onto your silt. Until your cunt was drooling translucent dredges of everything he has to give, he smears his messy thumb in easy rotations around your clit. Filthy.

“So gorgeous- so good f’me.” Gojo titters, biting down teasingly on the very edge of your panties. And he can’t hide that fucked-out little groan when pulls it back, back, back to just snap! it meanly right on your cunt. “Fuck- you taste as s-sweet as you smell, mmm–”

You’re yelping when his long tongue draws a slow circle around the edge of that first ring of muscle, just barely pushing back against how your gummy walls are trying to hug him. To milk him for everything he has.

“S-such a tease-” you whine, fingers tangling into his cloudy white hair. Soft - the silken tresses smoothed over your palm, slotting between your digits when you pull his mouth roughly onto your pussy. “Jus’ want you on me- ngh!”

“Ohh ya can still t-talk easy, huh?” Gojo raises an amused brow from in-between your legs, that won’t be possible soon with how he’s going to have you. “Well then, don’t you dare beg me to go easy on you, girl.”

And he keeps the panties on - fuck, he keeps the panties on when mashing those ragged, rosy lips of his in a steamy make-out with your cunt. It’s as if he was breathing you in, so close that you could feel every clench of Gojo’s jaw, every grind of his chin into the very base of your pussy.

“Sh-shitttt-” he spits, stray wisps of white covering his eyesight. Dragging you on his tongue through pure instinct. “Shit wait- ah you’re so fuckin’ so-”

Unable to even finish his sentences with that usually-sharp tongue of his. No, that tongue right now was too occupied with the steady, repetitive drag along your snug channel. Bullying into your sodden sensitive spots, thrusting back and forth back and forth back and-

And his fingers, oh those infamous fingers were straying back onto the sensitive nub of your clit. Drawing tight, tempestuous circles that have you keening at the dual stimulation, thighs stuttering to an embarrassed close.

“Open.”

It’s just like before - and Gojo’s using that annoyingly baritone tone of his that hits you at your very core, that makes your omega snap open your legs for him.

Even you’re surprised at how pliant your body acts before your mind right now - and so is Gojo. though, his expression doesn’t show it, every bit of that feral animal that scared everyone out of this room not too long ago.

“That’s it- that’s it–” he can’t hold back, hands glued to the globes of your ass to pin you still against his mouth. “Ha- so fuckin’ different when ya listen to me, so fucking sweet.” Breathing in deeply, “Were ya giving off this scent so Nanami could do this, too?”

Thwack!

Another mocking slap against your clit - not enough to make you cry, but with just enough buzzing jujutsu to make your batting lashes teary - forces you to find your words.

And fuck, Gojo swears there’s no sweeter music than the sound of your voice - especially when you’re moaning like that.

Voice breaking into a whine, accompanied by a few raw clenches of your pussy around his furious tongue. “N-no fuck- don’t know-” your hips arch into the most perfect curve he’s ever seen. One that makes his mouth water, cock straining against his pants. “Toru- jus’ want you, wanna cum- wanna- want you so bad.”

Fuck - and who was he to not go along with each and every one of your pretty whims?

Pussydrunken already. He’d read about this - but he really had no clue how potent an omega in heat was, never having spent a rut with one. That little special occasion was always saved for you but, ah, that was a story for another time.

“M’gonna cum- hah- so- close-”

Right now, he couldn’t think of anything other than how gorgeous you would look when you cum. How delicious - your sweetened scent raising up by a few notches, taking over his sentences.

He feels his cock just throb at the mere thought.

Which is why Gojo’s pulling away with one final, sodden kiss on your pussy. You feel the curvaceous curl of his smirk against your cunt, and a deep, filthy inhale.

“Nah.” he smiles a glistening smile up at you - grin glossed all over with a sheen of your sweet, sweet juices. And the rest of his face was almost-obscured with a curtain of his white bangs, but you still think you could peek the glow of his inhuman eyes through them. Powerful. “Don’ think you’re c-cumming anywhere other than on my knot first, pretty girl.”

And he’s so tall that Gojo’s blocking out the dim meeting room lights when he stands up - slow, smug, making you spend each passing second in such anticipation.

Face expressionless - almost hypnotized - when he shrugs his shirt off. Lips parted into a soft oh! eyes half-lidded, heaving he slides his belt off almost lazily.

It clatters! to the ground, and he’s sliding down his drenchingly wet boxers with it - leaving a gleaming trail of precum down the front of his toned pelvis. Letting his achy cock finally spring free, he hisses when it hits the too-cool air.

And you do, too - though, for much different reasons.

Because Gojo’s so unfairly big - fitting, for an alpha of his stature. Blushed the prettiest pink at his rotund head that matched his cheeks right now, gradiating down into creamy tufts of white at his thick base. Showing the starting of his knot swelling. It made you wonder whether he tasted as sweet as he smelled. So hard it looked painful, curving into a long, solid shaft that glides a wet smear across his washboard abs. It makes your omega just preen, rabid to have him inside you right now now now-

“Heh, impatient lil’ thing, aren’t ya, sweetheart?” Gojo huffs out in a heady bout of laughter. “Can practically feel yer omega ngh- calling out to me, is this what you want?”

You claw ferally at the milky display of his back, branding him in your own way. “Yes- please-”

A sudden rip! makes you realize you still had your panties on - up until a few seconds ago, at least. Jostling him ever-so-slightly closer, you mewl when the rounded tip of his angry cock nudges against your pussy lips. Melding into a slight kiss that already makes him stream steaming hot ropes of precum.

And if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have noticed the way the light above flicker, fizzing with electricity just as much as you were right now.

“Heheh- oh y-you made me like this, ya realize?” he chuckles out - but his voice didn’t show even a hint of humor. It’s like he was out of control, out of rationality with each languid drag in-between your folds. Babbling, “You threw me into- fuck fuck fuck this is all- your-”

Honestly, Gojo’s so utterly shocked he managed to grit even half that sentence out.

Because every sloppy second has him grinding upwards in the tiniest of ruts into your sung cunt, tiny, mindless grinds that make a low ah! ah! ah! rip from his throat.

“Open that mouth f’me, sweetness-”

As soon as you do, you’re feeling a thick, glossy stream of saliva slosh onto your lolling tongue. Mouth wrenched shut until you swallow - and you do. Happily. Filthily.

That’s enough to make Gojo lose it.

And he’s plunging headfirst into your toasty insides, shoving back that tiny bit of resistance before your elastic walls are milking him so well. Greedily swallowing up every one of his generous inches, and it only seemed like more was to come.

“Oh shit- ohhh sh-shit-” His eyes are rolling to the very back of his head, mouth hanging open, that tiny trickle of drool splatters onto your skin.

“T-Toruu—” your cunt was addictive, and so were those moans of yours. Craning your neck upwards, “Kiss me, please.”

For a second, he’s leaning in - making it seem like he was about to smear that firmly placed gloss all over his lips onto yours. But Gojo only sneaks a peck at the corner of your mouth, then the other - and then one on the tip of your nose.

“I will I will-” he’s musing, giggles bursting from his lips. “Once we’ve mated, can’t get too greedy at once now? Can I?”

But oh how his actions spoke otherwise, because Gojo’s powerful hips absolutely refused to stop until he was well and fully buried into the hot depths of your cunt. Sheathing himself in all your soppingly wet walls, the sheer tightness was enough for him to throw his head back, heavy balls squeezing. In and out in and out.

“Ohhh fuck-” Two hands of his roughly attach themselves to your hips, pitching up your needy whines when he drools down your pussy even more thoroughly. “You sure do make it f-fuckin’ hard though-”

You whine when your ass hits against something bulging and hot, whirling those dazed eyes of yours down at the intrusion.

“Shit-” you’re gasping, eyes widening. And the sheer awe in your eyes is enough to make him grow, blood pumping to every thick inch of his cock until he was expanding even girthier, molding your pliant walls to his size. “That’s your knot- I-I-”

“I-I-I-” Gojo mocks, in a voice octaves higher than usual. Fucking the rest of that sentence with a harsh roll of his hips, knocking bruisingly at your cervix. “C’mon now ah- tell me- you can t-tell me anything.” Kissing softly at your ear lobe, zaps of jujutsu making you jump. “M’your best friend, right?”

How ironic.

All you can gift him in response is a few soft whimpers that only make him wilder.

“Fuck!” you’re keening when another one of his slams leave you gasping for air, feeling like he was clashing into your very womb. Glissading a deep, wet glide of his fat, curved tip across your spongy cervix, his breath hitches at the slight recoil. “I want it-”

Your words make him almost falter with his ruthless pace, and you take it upon yourself to just drag him down by his muscled shoulders. Until he was hunching over you, abs flexing against your front, “I want your hah- knot in m-”

And you can’t even finish the sentence - you don’t know if you want to.

Because just that syrupy jumble of words is enough to make Gojo Satoru snap.

To cut you off with a rough growl, teeth bared at you, in a split-second he has you limp legs thrown over his shoulder. Biceps flexing in such a mouth-watering way when he makes them lock at the ankle, bending down, down, down into the meanest little mating press your joints would allow.

The change in angle has you scrambling - has him scrambling to crash his leaky head into your swollen g-spot. Hitting that bulging bullseye with no regrets - over. And over. And over and over and-

“Oh, marry me sweetheart.” he’s panting into your mouth. His pulsing girth rummaging your insides so good, dragging every ridge and thumping vein on his shaft against your sweet spots. He was so big that you felt like your syrupy cunt had already forgotten what it felt like without him pounding into you. Suckling wetly at the corner of your lips, “Marry me marry me- oh, fuck- gonna give you m-my knot. Don’ think I could go on hah- l-living without ya, pretty.”

He was feral - eyes glowing a blazing blue, sparks of lightning bolting down his milky skin. And you swear with each speeding cadence of his, the lights flickered on and off.

Every slippery smack of his tight, cum-filled balls has you seeing stars, yearning for the additional burning stretch of being plugged by his knot.

You’re throwing your arms over his neck, reeling him in like he was your prey, though his hips were devouring you. “W-we’re not even dating and you want me t-to be your hngh-”

“-wife!” He kisses every inch of your face, down your neck, over that soft scent gland of yours - now so overstimulating his senses with your sweet scent that he’s almost forgotten what his own smelled like. Buzzes of electricity skimming down your skin with each touch. He’s groaning, “Be my wife- please- fuck, I need you to be my wife.” Planting an almost-french kiss on that one sweet spot. Once. twice. “M-my mate- sh-shit-”

And you already knew Gojo was close with the way his pretty eyes are almost fluttering shut, the way his hefty balls clamp. Twitching in desperation, his thickened base pumps in even deeper - harder. As if he was trying to rut every single inch into your clingy depths.

Every single inch.

“Mhm–” you moan, feeling the staggering stretch of his even hotter cock shape your walls. “I wanna- wanna be your-”

You don’t even bother finishing your sentence - and neither does Gojo let you.

Because it only takes a few more sloppy jackhammers before he’s finally sinking his taut knot into you. The stretch is so insane you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, being plugged so suddenly full.

And then you’re hurtling headfirst into your high - toes curling, white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes, your spine bowing so sluttily into his. And Gojo-

Oh, Gojo had his mouth sagging open the moment he felt his massive knot intrude against your silken sweet walls, stretching that snug channel around all of him. And he wishes he had the willpower to look down at the heavenly sight, he wishes he could do anything but sink his teeth down hard into your precious scent gland as he cums and cums and cums.

The lights burst, shards deflecting off the limitless he’d coated over the both of you.

Teeth breaking skin, metal tasting on his tongue, scents tangling together into one now.

You do your best to bite him back on his heady neck, breaking through Gojo’s milky skin to reveal a set of pretty pink indents.

Finally yours. Finally his.

“O-oh, pretty girl–” he hiccups, voice cracking. Hips not moving even the tiniest second of momentum while he stuffs your tight pussy full of his potent seed. “My wife- my mate.”

And Gojo almost bawls when the tight lock of his knot prevents him from plunging into you as deeply and thoroughly as he wanted to right now. Sobbing down big fat tears that splatter! against your lips while he kisses your mind dizzy.

You could feel the syrupy slosh of his cum inside you with each one of his dragged-out grinds, milking your orgasm for as long as possible. Unmoving. Unapologetic in how he was spitting out such voluminous loads of milky white seed that overfilled you.

“Shit- so much-” you’re whining, still clinging to him. And you don’t think he even hears you right now, mind blanking. “I feel so full, Toru-”

But you didn’t have to babble out those words for him to know, somehow, he just knew. Knew every single thing about you, but couldn’t dredge up the words to respond.

Too pussydrunken to do anything but bite you on your scent gland all over, he kisses a wet trail up to your lips, “Now you- really hafta m-marry me heh.”

Bang!

Gojo’s fist comes crashing down on the rickety table - it’s too much for him.

Those ringing squelches and the way you were sucking out every single drop of his cum makes his sensitive shaft twitch. Tears blimping up into his eyes again, more and more velvety ribbons ooze out. “My wife- my wife my wife my wife- my mate-”

It’s just about all he can say - like a mantra. Over and over against your lips, until the peaks of your pleasure turn into mere tingles, until Gojo’s own knot is softening down. Slightly.

Just enough that he can pull out-

“Toru, what-”

“Shhh, pretty girl-” He’s kissing your puffed-up clit with another spank from his trembly fingers, and then an actual kiss. Mouth slotting over the mess he’s made below. Grazing all over like a creamy gloss. Filthy. “Rut’s just started.”

His ravenous tongue drags out your overstimulated high, and you’re clinging onto a lock of his snowy hair for dear life.

“Please-” you beg, voice shot. You don’t even know what you were begging for, but god was Gojo Satoru happy to let himself be used. “Please please please, Toru-”

Oh, his fingers tighten on your thighs - imprinting neat patterns of crescents. Animalistic, in how Gojo just drags your twitchy body forwards.

His eyes were drooping shut, gaze crazed - frantic where he looked you right in the eyes from down below. Head craning to ram his stretchy tongue even deeper, quirking up deftly like he’s wanting to bruise his taste buds along your walls.

Slurping at and collecting the creamy mess on his tongue - only to spit it back into your sloppy hole. Messy.

Even with the dark, lightless room - with only those stray sparks of power to accompany you two - such loud squelches echo across his own ears. And just by the noise Gojo could tell how wet you were - as if you weren’t drooling over the lower half of his face, up to his cheekbones, already.

Sticking to your inner thighs in an obscene drip! drip! drip!

It’s so shameful and you love it.

And you love that you’re so cockdrunken that you aren’t even sure when you’re cumming - if you’re cumming. Whether those sudden crashes of pleasure were because of your nth orgasm tonight, or because of the way Gojo kisses you with another thwack!

Adrenaline and electricity coursing through your veins, ears thundering with your rapid pulse. Oh god, you never knew a heat could feel this good - this maddening.

You moan, and he’s eagerly lapping up every sweet bead of slick you have to offer, like a man that hasn’t had an ounce of water in weeks. Brows furrowed, jaw sagging open-

“Shit shit shit-” he’s rasping out, and the very slide of his fingers across your skin sends waves of powerful jujutsu - somehow bunching at your clit just right. “M’cumming- m- m’still cumming fuck- won’t- stop-”

Just as soon as your orgasm is ending, Gojo’s is just starting. Like he’d been holding back on this from the moment he’d started eating out your overspilling pussy - happily.

And exactly on time, too, because you barely even have the time to catch your breath before Gojo’s standing on his two unsteady feet. Just splitting you open on all of his red, raw inches - uncaring for your little mewls and those tears.

Because you were sucking him up madly.

Spearheading his swollen cock into you like he was trying to fuck another orgasm out of you. His strokes are long, harsh, showing off all the years of strength he built up boasting the title of the strongest.

And this hastily put-together mating press has his cum just overspilling out of you by now, dribbling down in wet globs that made you wonder how much more he could fill you up. It seeps in a white circle underneath your ass, slicking you back and forth along the wood at each harsh ram.

Again. And again. And again and again and-

“Made me this- hngh- this way, y’know?” he spits into your mouth - followed by a slurred string of swears. Every time his heftily smacking balls clench, you could feel the table creak under pressure. “Sat next to me with that fucking skirt- smelling so fucking- ngh- good- do you even know how delicious ya are?”

You can’t answer - because he’s back to squeezing in his staggering knot into you. Sparks exploding out from the corner of his scrunched-up eyes, forehead knocking into yours.

Gojo kisses you like he couldn’t get enough, letting you taste all the sin from just before.

“Three weeks away, huh?” That accusatory little inflection in his words isn’t lost on you, only growing stronger and stronger as his staccato grows sloppier. “Have your- hah- heat in three weeks and fuck- I could just- smell it on you-”

It’s incredible. Sliding your frenzied bodies across on another, stinging with skin-on-skin and how your gooey walls constricted around him.

“Showing off in that scent and that skirt-” His eyes are almost bulging out of his head now, hips stuttering like just the very thought of that pile of fabric at the corner of the room drove him mad. “-fuck that skirt- always fuckin’ hated it. Hated how Nanami loves hngh- it. Made me lose fucking control a-and you know what?”

One of his hands curls around your throat now, the other taking hold of your left - kissing your ring finger pointedly. “I’ll do it all over again if it means I’d get to have ya like this, my mate.”

And just then he’s coating your melty insides in a creamy sheen, that overworked divot right at the end of his dick was firmly pressed up against your g-spot. Plugging you with his knot, and you swear you could see a little inflation forming where he was filling you to your limits.

Cumming and cumming so hard it’s like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop until his body practically forced him.

Gojo’s biting down hard exactly over those deep indents on your scent glands when his gushing spurts of seed turn into almost-painful blanks.

Over and over, he’s cumming nothing.

“L-love you, Toru-” you’re babbling out, reeling him in to peck the corners of his smirking mouth.

Utterly fucked out of your mind enough that you don’t even register the loud boom! from somewhere in the distant grounds of Jujutsu Tech. Barely even care that the overpriced meeting table is now sagging on one side, just about in splinters.

“Aww, m-my c-cockdrunk baby–” he titters shakily into your glossed-pout. “Love you, too, always have always- will-” Patting the bulge on your stomach, before kissing you gently, “Ever since I th-threw ya into heat the ngh- first time ya met me.”

Oh.

And later, you’ll learn that that almost-deafening boom was the generator for Jujutsu Tech, mysteriously bursting after a sudden spike in atomic pressure in the surrounding area. You’ll find out that every piece of furniture in the surrounding buildings had moved about six inches in your direction, and that the now-ruined table was an irreplaceable heirloom.

But for now, all you register is soft.

Warm.

With a gasp you realize you’re in a bedroom - Gojo’s bedroom.

“Did- did you teleport-”

“Mhm-” he pants, and in the dim lighting you could spot his leering grin. Satisfied. Pussydrunken. And you could feel his knot swell up hotly, halfway through to its previous size.

You sputter, trying so desperately to find the words. Difficult, when Gojo still had you wrapped around his thick cock, all the way up to his fat, drenched base. Swiveling his cock in slow, sultry grinds for how much he couldn’t ram exactly how he wanted to right now. “Wh-why didn’t you do this before–?”

“Because-” he licks over his mating mark on you. “-wanted to show off what animals we were.” His grin grows wider, as does his tired cock. And that dangling blindfold around his neck ends up around your wrists, tying you up pliantly for him. “What animals we will be.”

---

Right now, all Nanami can think about is you you you- Yet,he doesn’t expect to see you for about the next week. Or, at least, that’s the hopeful side of him - knowing Gojo, and the state he’d left the meeting room in, he won’t see you again for a month.

Possibly not walking.

Perhaps, that’s for the best. Looking down at his swollen, throbbing cock - one fist wrapped around its thick base, the other around his shaky phone, he clicks on that familiar app.

Shit, his rut is near. Now, actually.

Nanami sighs, it’s hard pretending not to be animals.

A/N. Was soooo giggling writing about how the table was some heirloom.

Plagiarism not authorized.

Blessed (1/2)- Fushiguro Megumi x fem!Reader

SPOILERs for up to ch. 235 - canon complient until then Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x fem!Reader Genre: angst (Part 1), fluff (Part 2), hurt/comfort Word Count: 4 336 (Part 1) Warnings: death, injury, stitches, blood, pain Summary: The battle against Sukuna was won by Gojō, but now it’s up to you to save Megumi. Part Two

“Megumi!“

You stumbled through the rubble of what had once been Shinjuku. Pieces of debris were strewn around everywhere, blocking your path. Some you surrounded, some you climbed over, your heart beating painfully hard in your chest. What an irony, you thought bitterly that Megumi, whose name meant nothing other than “blessed”, had been subjected to all this torture.

The fight was over. Gojō-sensei had won over Sukuna. But Sukuna still possessed Megumi’s body. Your best friend Megumi, the one you had grown closer to than what you would call friendship at this point. It was days’ worth of sparing, study sessions in which you had sat close enough for his knee to press against yours, nights, when nightmares had driven him out of his bed, and he had come to seek comfort in yours. This was not simple friendship anymore, not the way you were friends with Yūji anyway. But you had never addressed it, and neither had he. Now it was too late.

Following the develepments of the battle on the observation screens, you had seen the damage Gojō-sensei had done to Sukuna. Now your only goal was to reach them before Megumi bled out.

There was a way to get rid of Sukuna, without killing Megumi. If you, or anyone else, had trusted your skills any earlier, you would have exorcised Sukuna from Yūji’s body like that. But now there was no time for doubts, not when Gojō-sensei’s energy was as good as drained, and Sukuna too weak to recover.

You had only a few very short minutes to manipulate Sukuna’s soul into healing Megumi’s injuries and then crumbling it to dust, killing Sukuna and hopefully keeping Megumi alive in the process. A few very short minutes before Sukuna would have gathered his strength again, and could wipe you out with less than the blink of an eye. A few very short minutes, before Gojō-sensei had the strength to do, what would be his only option: Kill Megumi to get rid of Sukuna forever.

You made it over a huge block of debris, slithering down its side, not caring about the way your trousers ripped, and the skin in your palms got torn open with your poor attempt to control your way down. But then Megumi’s motionless body came into view, and Gojō-sensei, standing only a few feet away from him.

“Megumi,” you called again, breathless, your voice an octave higher than usual, panicked.

Not paying the faintest thought to your teacher, you rushed towards Megumi, when suddenly Gojō-sensei’s pale hand shot forwards, grabbing your wrist. You halted, less from the resistance of his hand around yours, than the lack thereof. In the way Gojō’s fingers were holding onto you, you could tell just how weak he had become during the fight. He was shaking, barely enough strength left to keep his weak hold on your wrist, the cursed energy you usually had felt thrumming through him from several meters away was almost completely drained.

“Don’t-” he warned. Don’t get to close to him, we don’t know how strong he is. Don’t get too close to him, I don’t want you to get hurt.

The unspoken plea hung in the air between you, his blue eyes fixed on the back of your head as you stared at Megumi’s body, or what was left of it. His clothes were torn and bloody. Scratches and cuts and Sukuna’s violent, black marks littered his torso and arms and his beautiful face. His one hand was missing.

It felt, like all will to fight had suddenly left your body, seeing him like this. There was no way you could safe him. There was nothing you could do. You would have to let Gojō-sensei do what you had always feared would be the destiny that was bestowed upon Yūji: you had to let him execute Megumi so the world could get rid of Sukuna.

“Please-” Gojō’s voice tore through the haze that had begun dulling your senses. It was heavy with pain, weak with exhaustion. And enough to startle you back into the moment.

With a quick motion you drew your hand out of your teacher’s grasp, using more force than needed, putting a small amount of cursed energy into it too, just to spite Gojō, before you closed the last steps and dropped down beside the bruised and beaten body of the boy you held so close to your heart.

But it was not Megumi, who looked back at you. It was a dark and ancient evil, now temporarily too weak to protest, when you collected all your courage and reached out, pressing your palm against a bloody and sweaty forehead.

You felt Sukuna’s soul immediately. It recoiled at your touch, and while the skin under your fingers was almost freezingly cold, Sukuna’s soul burnt as hot as the centre of a star. It didn’t just burn though. It was burnt. You felt the wounds Gojō had inflicted, littered over the metaphysical body of Sukuna’s soul, felt the pain, the agony and terror he was in. The terror was not directed towards Gojō, whose soul you felt standing directly behind you. It was directed towards you, towards what you would be able to do to him.

At the realization of Sukuna’s fear of you, sudden confidence surged through your veins, and quickly you grabbed the remains of what once had been the most powerful sorcerer on earth.

Heal him. It was a command, spoken without words. A direct link from your soul to Sukuna’s, and when you opened your eyes, you saw how the first cuts on Megumi’s familiar face began closing. You forced Sukuna’s last energy into healing that which he had destroyed, and to keep him from dying before Megumi was fully healed, you fed into the healing process with your own cursed energy, acting like a battery for the tool Sukuna had become in your goal to restore Megumi’s body. You felt the sorcerer’ soul wring and whimper under the control you held over it, the sensation not unfamiliar from all the times you had done it with curses before, but even now you felt the power which Sukuna had once held. The part of you that was not glowing white with rage, the part of you, which you had inherited from ancestors so long ago that they had shared food with dinosaurs, this part cowered in fear. But you didn’t. You squeezed tighter, tasting blood on your tongue and the pain and fear Sukuna was radiating. It took you a moment to understand that the blood you tasted was your own, a nosebleed from the sudden exhaustion of draining your cursed energy into healing Megumi.

The unexpected touch of a hand on your shoulder startled you, but not enough to lose focus on the task at hand. You knew it was Gojō, you had felt the same touch hundreds of times, whenever he placed his hand on your shoulder to reprimand you or to calm you down. But you would not be reprimanded this time, would not calm down. Not until Sukuna had healed Megumi, not until Sukuna was dead, not until your friend was safe.

But the scolding you expected never came. Instead, you felt Gojō-sensei pouring his cursed energy into you, fuelling the process you had started. You did not dare look, but from the strain it put on your body, you knew, Megumi’s hand had probably about halfway grown back already. With Gojō-sensei acting as a second power source the process sped up dramatically, while you made sure to keep complete control over Sukuna, who began begging, pleas you only felt, as your soul had tapped into his, holding him down and making sure he was always just one last drop of cursed energy away from crumbling entirely. It felt strange, feeling the now drained power of Sukuna on the one end, and Gojō’s seemingly endless but weakened energy on the other. You felt like a threat in a lightbulb docked into a socket with too much voltage, just a second away from burning out.

“Yūji, leave.”

Gojō’s voice sounded far away, dimmed, like you had cotton in your ears, and the voice that answered, not at all louder, but unmistakably Yūji’s was as stubborn as you felt.

“Are you going to kill Sukuna?”

There was a pause you wanted to fill, wished you had the resources left to tell Yūji: What do you think we’re doing here? Cuddling?

But you were too weak. All your focus was on Sukuna healing Megumi, and slowly but surely the realization that this might very well kill you settled in. You had always expected to be scared in the face of death, but you had evaded it so many times now, and dying to kill the worst evil in history, dying to save your friend, that sounded like a fair way to go out.

It was Gojō who eventually answered.

“He’s never gonna kill anybody ever again.”

“How do I help?”

The moment a second hand, smaller and warmer than the first, landed on your other shoulder, you felt like the threat in the lightbulb you were, started glowing, dangerously close to burning out all at once. A few seconds later you could feel the strange smoothness that told you Megumi’s body had been completely healed, and instead focused you last conscious thoughts on one thing and one thing alone: Crushing Sukuna’s soul.

But this was not your job to do. It hadn’t been you, whose life had been turned upside down by Sukuna.

“Yūji-“

It was but a gasp that left your lips but Yūji understood nonetheless. While healing Megumi, Sukuna had been the tool that had been handled by you, with Gojō and Yūji acting as batteries for cursed energy. Now it was you, who would be handled by Yūji as the tool to destroy Sukuna, Gojō continuing to fuel you, even though you could feel that he was reaching his limit. You had stepped over yours a long time ago, and you knew that you would have to pay a high price for it.

Sukuna’s soul began shivering underneath the burned flesh of the wounds Gojō had inflicted. Its pleas turned into threats and then into screams. You felt Yūji’s grip on Sukuna tightening, felt the force with which he closed his wrist around the curse and squeezed, squeezed, squeezed.

Your body was burning up with the pain Sukuna radiated. You felt it all, felt his consciousness wither and crumble as Yūji used your abilities to wring the life from him, felt the fear, the anger, the rage in Sukuna. The part of you that always believed in the good in people tried searching for anything that might bring Sukuna comfort in his last seconds. But you came up empty, there was nothing in his soul but the endless darkness.

You knew your nose was dripping blood down your face, tasted the iron on your tongue, knew your screams were piercing the eerie silence of the destroyed Shinjuku as your body reacted to what your soul was subjected to-

And then it was over. With one deafening crush that nobody could hear but you, Sukuna was dead.

You had felt souls dying countless times before. Sometimes they sizzled out, like the last embers of a bonfire that got extinguished with a glass of water, other times they popped like a balloon pricked with a needle. But Sukuna's soul was different. It started contracting, pulling in, further and further, like a neutron star that began collapsing in on itself. The moment you began feeling the pull of it, you knew what was to follow. Exactly like with the astronomical object, Sukuna's soul would collapse and collapse until it suddenly would invert and instead blow up, not on a physical but a metaphysical scale, the level on which your soul was connected to Sukuna’s. And when his soul blew up like a supernova, it would take all souls connected to it along with it. That meant Megumi's soul, which was still buried in his body somewhere, that meant your soul. That also meant Gojō-sensei's and Yūji’s souls; since you had tapped into theirs to be able to process their cursed energy.

You knew the explosion was inevitable, and you knew that there was no time to draw back from what just a split second ago had been Sukuna. If you did nothing, everyone would die. You had lost too much already; you couldn't lose your only friends and your teacher too. So you did the only thing you could think off in that split second that was left between the moment of Sukuna's death and the inevitable supernova: You wrapped around the collapsing soul, hoping that when it blew up, you would absorb enough of the set free energy to protect the others.

For a moment an unwelcome voice asked what Megumi would say when he woke up and realized that you had sacrificed your life for his, Yūji’s and your teacher’s. He'd be devastated, especially after what had happened to his sister. You wondered if what Yūji had told you all these hours ago held any truth at all. Just before Gojō-sensei had gone to face off against Sukuna, Yūji had told you that Megumi had confessed to having fallen in love with you. Was that true, did Megumi really cared for you? What would have been different, if you had not been too much of a coward to hide your feelings from him and instead had been honest? Would he have reciprocated your feelings? Would that have changed the outcome of this fight?

The remains of Sukuna's soul grew heavier and heavier, shrinking and increasing in density, and you tightened your hold around it. You could feel that it was almost over, and as scared and in pain as you were, you tried reaching out to Megumi's soul. You felt it lingering, somewhere deep, buried away, still passive, and asleep, oblivious to the battle that raged on, that was almost over now.

You sent a thought to Megumi, not sure if he could perceive it, that you had always admired him, and that you wished you could have saved not just him, but his sister too. And yourself. For his sake. You waited for an echo, a reply of any sort, but his soul stayed quiet, a deep blue, darker even than his mesmerizing eyes, cold, untouchable, and unaware. If your soul could have sighed, it would have.

You had tried. Maybe Yūji would tell Megumi eventually about what you had confessed to him when you had been watching the ongoing fight. He had noticed your hands clenching so hard into your seat, that your nails had almost splintered, had picked up on the way your eyes followed Sukuna as if you could kill him and save Megumi by merely looking at him through the screen. And when he had asked, quietly under his breath if what you felt for Megumi was love not on a platonic but a romantic level, you had not denied. Maybe he would share his knowledge when everything was over, when your soul had absorbed all of the energy set free by Sukuna's death and got torn to pieces. When the others got saved, when Megumi woke up. If Megumi woke up. Right now, his soul was but a deep blue hole of pain and unconsciousness.

And then there was a stir, a shimmer of bright blue in the deep, as if your thoughts had reached him, like waking from a deep dream, Megumi's soul began to shift and shimmer and-

It was over quicker than your quickened perception could follow. One moment Sukuna had been there, the next he was dead, the remains of his soul collapsing and your soul wrapping around it to protect the others, all in the fraction of a split second, and then there was nothing left but the searing pain of your soul getting blown away by what once had been Sukuna.

People were hurrying past left and right, dizzying Megumi, and if he hadn’t known his way around Shinjuku station, he would have been hopelessly lost. Annoyed he furrowed his brows, stepping out of the way of an old man, who almost had run into him. How did Gojō imagine Megumi could find this new student with no further specification of the meeting place than “Shinjuku Station”? The station was bigger than a small village, tunnels leading to the subway and connecting subway stations into all directions, several million people passing through each day.

Megumi stepped closer to a column, getting on his tiptoes, and trying to look over the crowd. How was he supposed to find someone who he didn’t even know what they liked like in a place like this? Where would he go if he had been new to Tokyo and thrust into this situation? A pit began growing in Megumi’s stomach as he realised, he would be completely and entirely lost. What kind of evil prank was Gojō trying to pull on that new student, sending them into one of the biggest stations in the world with the promise to get picked up, only for them to realise earlier or later that without a more precise meeting point they’d be lost in the maze that was Shinjuku station. And beyond the exits of it waited Tokyo, vast with its skyscrapers, the busy streets and the crowds of people who all seemed to know exactly where they were going. Gojō really didn’t seem very set on making a good first impression.

Megumi pushed away from the pillar he had leant against and let himself drift away in the crowd. He was not sure where he was going, just following wherever his feet seemed determined to carry him. His eyes skipped over the people before him, those pushing past, those following their daily routine in the morning buzz of the city. Sudden doubt overcame him, but instead of stopping and turning into another direction, he kept walking, following an instinct his brain could not decipher.

A pair of eyes met his, and confused Megumi stopped in his track, just as the other person, a young woman, about his age, had done. Other people streamed past him and her as they stared at each other from a distance, the eye contact again and again interrupted by the other commuters walking between them. It felt like half an eternity that Megumi was frozen in place in the middle of Shinjuku station, taking in the features of the girl who was staring back at him. Even from afar he could make out the sparkle in her eyes, that now doubtfully observed him. Strands of hair were sticking out from underneath the hat she wore to keep warm on the cold December morning. The scarf around her neck matched the hat and underlined her features gently. She was beautiful, Megumi noted, but not in the traditional, socially celebrated sense, but rather in a timeless sense, as if she could be thrown in any era and always be considered beautiful, a quiet, unintrusive beauty.

Eventually it was her, who took the first step, breaking the strange moment of contemplation they had shared. Megumi met her in the middle, only stopping when they stood almost chest to chest to not drift apart in the crowd.

“Are you Gojō Satoru,” she asked, having to speak loudly over the murmur of the station. “I was told, I’d get picked up by him…”

Her voice was soothing, Megumi thought, the vowels softly rolling of her tongue, and for a moment he was so focused on the sound of her voice, that he almost didn’t answer her question.

Quickly finding back into the moment, he shook his head.

“Gojō-sensei is my teacher. I’m Fushiguro Megumi,” he introduced himself. “I’m in my third year of middle school, but I’ll start at the Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Senmon Gakkō in April.”

The girl in front of him nodded, her features softening into what he realised was relief. Apparently she had been just as stressed about finding him here in Shinjuku as he had imagined her to be.

“I’m (y/n),” she answered. “I think we’re going to start Jujutsu High together. It’s nice to meet you. And thank you so much for coming to pick me up.”

She bowed, and Megumi could not help but notice how precise the gesture was, like straight from a schoolbook. Whoever had educated her, must have been very proud of what a diligent student she seemed to be.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Megumi replied, answering her gesture of a bow with one of his own. Except he was aware that his execution of the same was not nearly as neat as hers. “I’m sorry Gojō-sensei didn’t specify the meeting place any further.”

“I must admit, I did feel a little lost,” she laughed, the sound making Megumi steal a glance at her. She was even more beautiful when she smiled. “But you found me in the end, so it’s all good.”

Megumi nodded, quickly averting his eyes from her face as not to make her uncomfortable with the way he had been watching her laugh. “Right,” he agreed, only half convinced, and determined to have a word with his guardian later about how to plan meeting spots. “Let me help you with your luggage.”

He quickly reached for the handle of the suitcase she had pulled to her side, a travel bag wrapped around the handle, while she carried a smaller backpack over her shoulder.

“Oh, that’s fine, please don’t bother,” she denied, but Megumi shook his head.

“You must’ve had a long journey, please-“

She glanced up at him, before hesitantly letting go of the handle of the suitcase, letting Megumi take a hold of it instead. The plastic was still warm where her fingers had wrapped around it.

“We need to go this way,” he gestured, but as he took the first step into the direction of the train line that would carry him and the girl out of the heart of the city and closer towards Jujutsu High, a sudden pain ignited around his left wrist, and with a hiss he let go of the handle of your suitcase. Irritated he looked down on his hand, try to spot the cause of the pain, then the handle of the suitcase. But the suitcase was gone, and so was the crowd of commuters.

Furrowing his brows in alarm, he looked up. The people were gone, only leaving him and you, you who he knew so much better than he had that first day he had come to pick you up from the train station. At his side you were dressed in the school uniform of Jujutsu High, your hands tightened into tense fists, but unlike his gaze, yours was not flitting around the suddenly empty station, the white ceiling, the colourful markings for the different train and subway lines. Your gaze was instead fixed entirely on him.

“Megumi-” your voice was urgent, laced with panic and desperation. Quickly Megumi turned to you, instinctively closing the distance between you and placing both hand at your shoulders. Another wave of pain raced through his left hand, but this time he ignored it, distracted by the look on your face, one of pain and sadness.

“What’s wrong,” he asked, bending down closer to your face, as if he could read the answer to his question in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I’m sorry for all you had to go through, for not having gotten rid of Sukuna any earlier, for not having been able to save Tsumiki, for-”

“What are you talking about,” he asked, gently shaking you, hoping to tear you out of whatever trance you had fallen into all of a sudden.

“I’m so sorry, Megumi,” you repeated, tears rising into your eyes.

Panic was slowly but surely taking over Megumi. Why were you crying? None of the things you said made any sense! What was he supposed to do now? Should he hug you? Continue to ask what was wrong?

But before he could decide, another lightning of pain shot through his hand, so strong this time, that he stumbled back and clutched it to his chest. When he looked back up at you, your appearance had changed again. Your hair was dishevelled now, its shimmer dimmed with dust. Scratches littered your face, all of them angry and red, and fresh blood was running out of your nose, dripping from your lips. Your eyes were bloodshot, your clothes torn in places and dusty, your jacket stained with drops of blood..

“(Y/n),” Megumi gasped, stepping forwards again, wanting to take hold of you, but this time you were faster, grabbing his lower arms instead.

“You need to wake up.”

Irritated Megumi shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Megumi,” the urgency in your voice was so thick, Megumi felt like he could cut it with a knife. “You need to wake up.”

Your voice echoed back from the walls, seeming to grow louder, joined by another voice, a familiar voice, one Megumi had been not sure he would ever hear again. Hopefully he lifted his eyes away from your face, looking up and down the empty corridor in search for Gojō, whose voice had joined the echoes of yours in their strange plea. But the hallway was empty except for you and Megumi, so he turned back to you.

Up close he could see the dark circles under your eyes, how fallen in your cheeks were, how your skin seemed to have lost all its glow. He leant in, intending to wrap his arms around you. He wanted to help, he wanted to wipe that look of despair off your face, but you held him at an arm’s length instead.

“You need to wake up,” you repeated. “Wake up.”

Part Two

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keiluv-s

7 months ago

madison beer halloween layouts

- pls like or reblog if u save/use !

- follow me for more

- don't repost

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keiluv-s

1 year ago

would love some headcanons for rockstar!draken bc i'm rotting heavily on this idea 😩

Rockstar!Draken Headcanons (NSFW, fem reader, groupie!reader, praise, possessiveness, size kink, breeding kink, spit play, exhibitionism)

note: thanks a lot Mack, now I have yet another version of a fictional man to simp over 😭 this idea is gonna be in my head for the rest of the night fr

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

🎸 He thinks you're the cutest groupie he's ever seen

🎸 Makes sure you have a front row seat at all of his concerts

🎸 Fucks you after the show is over, either in the tour bus or backstage if he's feeling impatient

🎸 If one of his bandmates catches you two he'll just yell at them to go the fuck away

🎸 Forbids you from getting involved with his bandmates, he wants you all to himself

🎸 Gets paranoid when he's not around to keep an eye on you because he thinks you're talking to others guys

🎸 Loves the size difference between you two and always reminds you of his strength when you're fucking

🎸 Likes when you ride him because he can see your tits bouncing and the bulge in your tummy his dick makes

"Look at you doll baby, riding me like a good little groupie ♡"

🎸 Cums in your pussy every chance he gets, he isn't necessarily trying to get you pregnant, he just loves keeping you filled to the brim

🎸 Spits on your pussy when he eats you out

🎸 Spits in your mouth when he's finished so you can taste yourself

"C'mon pretty girl, open your mouth for me ♡"

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkitkats @happy-trenchcoated-impala

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keiluv-s

2 months ago

playing for both of us

Karasu and Otoya know they’re sharing you way before you know. It’s just a matter of slowly acclimating you to it.

wc — 1k

tags — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, fem reader, threesome, cucking kink, penetration, hand job (not from reader), title borrowed from Challengers lol, I'm stuck on bllk sandwiches

Karasu’s not a jealous man. Sometimes he’ll casually bring Yukimiya up while he’s buried in you just to see you squirm. It makes him laugh, his mouth buried against your neck as he feeds you slow, languorous strokes, his hips rolling with a gentle need. But mostly he’s doing it as a joke just to watch you fluster.

Otoya’s different. He comes as an inevitability of dating Karasu. It’s real. From the very beginning of your relationship, he’s so touchy and handsy with you that it feels wrong. You feel so ashamed when people ask if you’re dating just to look shocked when Otoya cuts in that “No, she’s Karasu’s girl.” It feels like cheating except Karasu never seems upset by the way Otoya’s all over you. In fact, he seems to encourage it.

Otoya almost always third wheels when you’re out together. It’s a safety thing, Karasu says, like having two bodyguards. He feels more comfortable leaving you alone when you’re out if he knows you’re with his best friend. Otoya will protect you if he’s not there.

But who’s protecting you from Otoya?

When he’s drunk, his already few inhibitions go out the window. The back of your neck burns with awareness as he grinds against you from behind, his head thrown back, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat as his hands circle your waist. They’re far lower than they should be. No one in this club would be able to tell that you’re dating his best friend with the way he’s all over you.

It’s not that you’re just putting up with him, although you do like that it gives Karasu peace of mind to pass you off to him. It’s something about the way he hands you off with this air of easy trust that makes your stomach plummet in a pleasurable way, feeling so guilty for feeling so good. The way Otoya laughs when Karasu asks him to “babysit our girlfriend” makes you dizzy. He’s joking, but the sound of ‘our’ rings in your ears like a gong.

Karasu returns, smiling at the two of you, watching as his best friend’s wandering hands feel you up. His hands are basically covering your tits, touching and squeezing with abandon while his thigh finds its way between your legs. It makes you feel like you’re the crazy one for caring that your boyfriend’s best friend is groping you on the public dance floor, but it doesn’t stop you from grinding down on the firm muscle brushing against your cunt while Karasu watches.

The more you let him get away with, the more emboldened Otoya gets. When you’re in the kitchen together, he’ll bend you over the counter in the joking way boys do and pretend to hump your ass, his hips pumping once or twice as you yelp in surprise. Karasu looks up from the living room table and just laughs. He thinks the way you react to his best friend is so funny, goading Otoya on as he tries his best to get under your skin.

You think they’re just being immature until you catch Karasu jerking Otoya off to the thought of you.

He’s sleeping over again. You told them you were going to bed, but you couldn’t go to sleep knowing they were hanging out without you. On tiptoe, you creep down the stairs and into the hallway, hoping you can sneak into the room and fall asleep on the bed without them noticing.

Instead of gaming, which you thought they were doing, Karasu’s sitting next to Otoya, lazily jerking him off. Otoya’s pajama pants are dragged down his hips to give Karasu access to him. He drags his fist up and down Otoya’s length slowly as he whines, bucking his hips up in the chair he’s sitting in.

“Please,” Otoya whimpers, but instead of Karasu’s name, it’s yours falling from his lips. Karasu chuckles and pins him back down as Otoya’s hips jump. He can't control his moans, hiccuping and soft sobbing into his ear.

“You’re so needy, baby,” Karasu says quietly. Otoya mumbles something incoherent. He’s nodding furiously. Karasu presses a soft kiss against his temple, so tender it makes your stomach clench. You feel not as if you’re intruding, not as if you’re a voyeur or even a witness, but a participant. Somehow, even outside of the room, your presence is with them.

Your hand slips between your thighs almost without thinking.

“Bite down on this,” Karasu murmurs, slipping the hem of Otoya’s shirt between his teeth. “You’re so loud. You’ll wake her up.”

Otoya nods obediently, his eyes teary. He makes a soft, punched out noise and his eyes roll back when Karasu twists his hand around the head of his cock.

“She’s so soft,” he tells him. “Soft all over. Smells so good too. I’ll let you take some of her lotion home. You can huff it like the pervert you are.” He cracks a sideways, secret smile.

The shirt slips out of Otoya’s mouth. It’s wet with saliva, a small patch darker than the rest. His teeth have left imprints on the fabric.

“Want it,” Otoya whines. “Please, I’m-“ his voice creaks on every syllable, so tightly wound it hurts. “‘M close.”

You slip away silently, trying not to think about how sticky your thighs feel. You don’t know how to bring it up to them. For a while, things proceed as normal, which means Otoya flirts shamelessly with you while Karasu watches smugly.

And then Otoya asks Karasu if he can kiss you one night. Karasu tilts his head at you.

Otoya’s as needy with you as he is with Karasu.

“Easy, tiger,” Karasu laughs. He’s holding you open so Otoya can pound into you. His fingers dig into your thighs as Otoya's mouth runs nasty, panting as he fucks you.

“She’s so tight, Tabito, I can feel her sucking me in. Shit, her pussy’s milking me, hungry for it, yeah, you want this, don’t you?” He can’t stop talking. “I’m, I’m going to-“

Otoya comes with Karasu’s hand on his hip, pushing him further into you. He keens against your shoulder where it’s pressed against Karasu’s chest. His wet, wet mouth kisses where your skin meets.

When Otoya’s done with you, Karasu slips inside, fucking his best friend’s cum out of your tender, sore pussy. He grinds into you slow and deep, taking his sweet time. Something about seeing you sloppy and ruined has him harder than ever. He talks Otoya through it, telling him how good you feel, how wet he left you.

You’re their girl. It’s only right that they each get an equal share of every experience.

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