𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵 nineteen. she/her. toji's doll ꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ #grr talkshow = lame yapping :p 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵
i do not own any of the images. they're from pinterest <3

shark vs the universe
dirt enthusiast
YOU ARE THE REASON

roma★

blake kathryn
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
we're not kids anymore.
Stranger Things
h
Three Goblin Art

★
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Cosmic Funnies
Jules of Nature

Product Placement

oozey mess
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
$LAYYYTER
ojovivo
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from T1
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Philippines
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Thailand

seen from United States
@grignardsreagent
𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵 nineteen. she/her. toji's doll ꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ #grr talkshow = lame yapping :p 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵
i do not own any of the images. they're from pinterest <3

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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< here i present to you my pride and joy, my goated tumblr debut… please read with caution, care, love, and both hands if possible xxx >
ᯓ★ masterlist—sneaky link frat!toji x reader
₍^. .^₎⟆
you clearly missed your sneaky link toji more than you let on
you learn that toji doesn’t like it when you ghost him…
car sex in the rain at toji’s special spot?
things are beginning to feel a bit too… real
frat president! toji has a… girlfriend?
ᥫ᭡.
GARDEN KISSES !!
S Y N O P S I S ... toji is convinced that youre obsessed with choso and doesn't realize how obvious he's being about his jealousy. too bad he doesn't realize the feelings are mutual. and too bad he's taking out his jealousy on poor choso (send help ( ._. )"" )
A U T H O R ' S N O T E ... upon anon req! sorry if it's a little ooc, i don't write for toji often and as usual, she is not proofread ;( still! i hope you enjoyy w/c 1.5k creds! dividers by cursed-carmine, pictures and art from pinterest!! taglist! @iwouldbesopleased @snooki-doodle
"yo toji, do you know where-"
"no idea."
toji walks out of the kitchen the second choso comes in and everyone hears the way the former slams his door. choso sweat drops as he looks to gojo and geto for any clarity. "did i do something?"
Go to town! (𝘖𝘯 𝘔𝘦, 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘏𝘦𝘳)ft: frat! Toji ღ
18+—The bedroom door slams so hard the cheap frat-house posters flutter like they’re trying to escape.
“You’re such a fucking child, Toji,” you spit, still in your coat, keys dangling from white-knuckled fingers. “You think I’m gonna sit there and watch you flirt with every sorority girl who breathes near you just because you bought me one overpriced drink?”
He’s already yanking his hoodie over his head, black hair a mess. “You’re mad because I talked to people? Jesus Christ, you’re exhausting.”
“People,” you mock, stepping closer even though every instinct screams danger. “You had your hand on her lower back for half the night. Don’t play dumb you wanted me to see it!?”
Toji crowds you instantly, broad chest forcing you back until your spine hits the door. The wood rattles.
“Maybe I did,” he says.“Maybe I wanted to see how long it’d take before you stormed over here and acted like you own me.”
“I don’t own you. I just don’t share!”
“Bullshit. You love sharing me as long as it’s on your terms.” He laughs through his yell
You shove at his chest. He doesn’t budge. Instead his hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around your jaw
“Say it” he murmurs. “Tell me you don’t want me fucking other girls while you’re still dripping on my cock every night.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah,” he growls, mouth crashing against yours.
You bite his lip. He hisses, retaliates by shoving your coat off your shoulders and ripping your shirt up over your head in one brutal yank. Buttons scatter across the floor.
“You’re such a possessive little bitch,” he snarls against your throat, teeth scraping. “Acting like I’m not allowed to look at anyone else when you’re the one who keeps saying we’re ‘just fucking.’”
You claw at his back, nails digging through cotton. “Because you make it impossible to be anything else when you act like a slut in front of half the campus!”
He laughs again spinning you around, chest to the door, your cheek pressed to chipped paint. One hand pins both your wrists above your head. The other pushes your skirt up to your waist.
“Keep talking,” he says, yanking your panties to the side. “Love when you’re mad and still this fucking wet.”
Two thick fingers shove inside without warning. You choke on a moan.
“See?” He curls them viciously. “Your pussy doesn’t give a shit about your pride. She’s crying for me anyway.”
“Shut—up—” you gasp, hips jerking back despite yourself.
He pulls his fingers out, smears them across your lips. “Taste how much you hate me.”
You suck them clean just to spite him.Toji groans low in his throat. The sound of his zipper is loud in the quiet room.
“You want me to stop?” he asks, dragging the fat head of his cock through your folds. “Say the word and I’ll go back downstairs. Plenty of girls who don’t scream at me before they come.”
You slam your hips back, trying to force him inside. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He snaps forward burying himself into your cunt. your vision whites out for a second.“Fuck! Toji wait!-“
“Still wanna argue?” He pulls almost all the way out, slowly pushing himself into your plush walls “Go on. Tell me how much you hate me while I’m balls deep.”
“You’re an asshole!” Each word is punched out of you by his thrusts. “Ugh! Fuck!” your head bobbing from how hard he was fucking you
“You knew exactly what you were doing—”
He wraps your hair around his fist, yanks your head back so he can speak against your ear. “And you still came running the second you saw it. Still spread your legs for me. Still clenching like you’re trying to keep me here forever.”
His free hand finds your clit, rubs messy, mean circles. “Say it. Say you’re mine and I’ll let you come.”
“Fuck—you!”
He stops moving. Just stays buried in your cunt throbbing, letting you feel every inch of his dick while his fingers slow to torturous teasing
“Say. It.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m yours!Toji I’m yours—don’t stop—”
The door rattles with every obscene thing you’re doing against it. You’re loud—way too loud for a house full of drunk idiots.
“You don’t get to flirt with anyone else,” you gasp between moans. “You don’t get to touch anyone—else but me!”
He bites down on your shoulder when he cums, flooding you so deep you feel it in your stomach. The sensation tips you over, you shatter around him, nails scraping wood, crying his name
He doesn’t pull out right away.
Just keeps you pinned there, breathing hard against your neck, cock still twitching inside you.
“Still mad?” he mutters eventually.
“…maybe a little.”
“Good. Means we’re not done arguing yet.”
Fucking two bad bitches at the same damn time
You find two (very hot) saviours to act as your boyfriends.
Frat Au Toji x Reader x Sukuna cw: fem!reader, bitchass ex Naoya, frat party, alcohol, SMUT, threesome, mean Suku, mean Toji, cursing, degrading, biting, riding, spitroast, blowjob, rough sx, creampie, dp, d in p, not proofread
You really didn't want to go in the first place. Like... not at all.
But your bestie Shoko had finally dragged you out of your cramped dorm room to go and live a little.
Frat president Gojo was throwing another wild weekend party at their fraternity house.
Shoko had put you in an outfit you couldn't even think you could pull off. Makeup done by her too, a bit more than you'd ever do, but it was perfect for a party. That's what Shoko had said anyways.

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Call it whatever you want.
"You're not my boyfriend." Try telling Ryomen Sukuna that when another man gets a little too close.
A/N: you aint my boyfriend and i aint your girlfriend 🤨 if u couldnt tell, this was inspired by boyfriend by ari and social house ✌️😗 this is also an old fic i dug out 🚬 anyways exams have been fucking me raw lately and not in a fun way. i should be out here bussing it down at the club, getting lit, making questionable decisions. instead im bussing it down with textbooks and practice exams. tragic. devastating, even. it's okay though, bc i got bts tickets 😛
Art: @/pattyi.i on insta <3
Sukuna never asked for a commitment. Somehow, the arrangement just fell into place anyway. It started with small things: late night texts, showing up without warning, and a heavy black leather jacket tossed over the back of a chair like it belonged there.
How I want toji to lick me
lilith ˚. ᵎᵎ 18 ˚. ᵎᵎ creatively suffering. oh and i write ˚. ᵎᵎ
dividers on my drabbles are by: @/cafekitsune !
⌗ rules. ⌗ tumblr community. ⌗ to-do list. ⌗ 3k event. ⌗ too hot to handle! ⌗ join lili’s taglist!
bokuto :: himbo bokuto.
bakugo :: bsf!bakugo hcs.
kiribaku :: drummer!bakugo x reader x guitarist!kirishima.
sukuna :: anatomy lessons. ⸝⸝ his favourite pillow. fetch, boy. ⸝⸝ baby!yuji doesn’t like sharing. ⸝⸝ situationship kuna vs a panic attack. ⸝⸝ frat!kuna x mean!reader hcs. ⸝⸝ sukuna’s gf is terrifying. ⸝⸝ mean!reader and baby!yuji. ⸝⸝ soft sex. ⸝⸝ biting kuna. ⸝⸝ he begs to have you back. ⸝⸝ rotund baby yuji. ⸝⸝ too pretty for kuna. ⸝⸝ home is where the whore is. ⸝⸝ manhandling. ⸝⸝ frat!kuna hcs 2. ⸝⸝ cum as moisturiser. ⸝⸝ crushing you with his four arms. ⸝⸝ cuteness aggression. ⸝⸝ kitty cat. ⸝⸝ comfort with baby yuji. ⸝⸝ a gentle touch.
toji :: smacking his ass. ⸝⸝ fucking kuna’s girl. ⸝⸝ bush lvr. ⸝⸝ breathing isn’t easy. ⸝⸝ toji has a secret.
tojikuna :: 6 feet tall and super strong.
choso :: pervert roomie choso.
gojo :: gagged with her panties. ⸝⸝ walk him like a dog. ⸝⸝ solving a rubik’s ⸝⸝ putting a collar on frat!gojo. ⸝⸝ double life. ⸝⸝ older women. ⸝⸝ dilf!satoru. ⸝⸝ frat!gojo hcs 2. ⸝⸝ frat!gojo is a loser (hcs).
nanami :: pretending to help pay the bill.
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
love it when you hate me
You run into your mom's ex right before your older sister's wedding, the golden child of the family. You never could stand him when he was around the brief few years he dated her, and nothing's changed now. The fact is you never fit into your mom's bougie, country club life, you're a hot mess and the black sheep of the family, so.... what better way to solidify that position than to get shitfaced drunk and let her ex fuck you in a bar bathroom? There won't be any problems from that when you all head to that wedding... right?
pairings- mom's ex-boyfriend! sukuna x fem! reader
warnings - MDNI - Kuna is 35, reader is 25, messy dynamics, This chap is all sex lmao, reader has mommy issues like a mf - literally Kuna has us crawiling, LOTS of praise, fingering, fking, creampie, possessive, soft dom kuna, bratty reader - and overall freaked out, both of them are damaged asfff </3
this is fully finished, I'm sharing here weekly (six parts) <3
art in the divider is by my sweet, talented mootie @winterrbluess so go follow her rn!
<<<chap two
chap three
“You’re on time,” you glare up at him, as he checks the expensive Rolex on his watch, lips quirking up. “Good girl.”
Fuck him.
Literally, you’re going to fuck him.
Jumping on him with your arms around his neck, dragging the stupidly tall man down to you. He moans, an arm around your waist, taking you over, pressing you against the door that he quickly shuts. Your tongues fight for dominance, slipping and melding together, saliva dripping all messy.
Your core tightens as you feel his strength, feel the cold door pressing against your shoulder blades, breaths coming in quick little pants as he drinks you in, tilting his head and swallowing your desperate little cries. You hate how much you enjoyed him rubbing your hair earlier under that table, how him praising you filled some fucking void deep down.
How you want more, when he pulls back, red eyes bright and lidded, his sooty pink lashes lowering as he studies your lips, brushing his thumb across them. “You love that, huh?”
“Shut it,” you don’t admit a damn thing, when he reaches a hand and brushes your hair back gently, you tremble at the touch. “The fuck are you doing?”
“What you need,” his voice is dark and husky, grabbing your hair at the nape now, tugging it and looking down at you far too intimately. “Wanna be told what a good girl you are, don’t you?”
“I came here to fuck,” you whisper, trying not to show how badly he’s affecting you, your hands gripping his soft sweater he’s got on that looks far too good on him. “Maybe I like it okay?”
“You love it,” he kisses your lips now, hand loosening its grip and slipping down the curve of your spine. “Mmm, do you want to be good for me?”
“Fuck you - ah!” Sukuna gently smacks your cheek, shocking you with the sting, then he soothes it, smirking down at you as he watches your mouth drop open.
“No talking back,” he murmurs, thumb running soothing circles. “Admit that you want it, me to praise you for being good.”
You curse softly, shutting your eyes, thighs shifting. “You on some weird dom daddy kink?”
“No, you have mommy issues, huh brat?” He tilts his head. “Look at me.”
Your eyes flutter open, you swallow then, shifting a bit, hand gripping his shirt even tighter, the very room too small suddenly, like he’s completely filled it. “I’m looking at you.”
“Good, now answer me, you want me to, hmm?”
You nod again, he lets you go, leaving you touching your chest, feeling your racing heart fluttering, breaths coming in shaky little pants. He walks over towards the bed where the settee sits at the end of it, sitting with his legs spread wide under black slacks, leaned back. You watch him carefully, setting your purse down off your shoulder on the black nightstand.
The suite has one of those insane air conditioners that leaves the room freezing with the soft whir of the air, but all you can think of is how hot you are in that moment, how your entire body reacts to his gaze like a physical touch. “What, you want me to suck you again? You liked it.”
He chuckles at you, trying to be so tough – he knows you’ve had to be, but he sees that damage in your fucking soul, the one that matches his damn near. The kind you get from being told you’re not good enough for so many years when you’re just ‘different’. And he wants to fix it in you, what he still couldn’t fix fully in his thirties, even if it’s to show you how fucking perfect you are for a couple days.
“Come here, now.” His command is met with a little laugh, shaking your head and crossing your arms.
“You’re telling me-”
“On your knees, crawl to me.”
@grapesandraisins @kymber96 @vamqyx @sleepykittyenergy @jaeminsmilk @thisisew @innocent-and-angelic @amethystarchild @ohreallyfriend @raendarkfaerie @rjreins @ti-mame @ohio-gyatt-mega-sigma-rizzler @aeeliy @yourlocalcatscammer @angelzrulez21 @sabztov @beereadzzz @zetianzz @thelightknight21 @bhocalatebhipbookies69 @whorekyuu @simp-plague @chlefnikkl @jud3thedude @inotaku-talkz @morganmorine777 @1tsleesee @tolerantxo @hoesoflamentation @lizatonix @allilovessatoru @martianzmars @delphiakira @erendipi @nazzysworld13 @kitty-yaps @lucilleheart @satoeru @aporcelainphantom @xchosos-wifex @makingtimemine @kyanyakya @adzir @chocalycake @sonotkiki @pandabiene5115 @lovelytwixx @supremehoneybean
Toji Zen'in, who doesn't get down on one knee or has a ring hidden in his pocket waiting for the perfect moment.
Instead, he's lying on your bed with you, the sheets still tangled around your legs, his calloused fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip- gentler now than the bruising grip they'd held just moments ago.
Toji Zen'in, who's never planned a damn thing in his life, living by pure instinct and impulse. Whose love language is leaving bruised fingerprints on your skin and possessive bite marks. The same man who makes decisions in the spaces between heartbeats.
When he pulls you back against his chest you feel his chin rest atop your head. His breathing deep and even.
“Marry me.”
Toji Zen'in, whose “marry me” isn’t a question at all- just say two quiet, unguarded words slipping from his lips, like a confession he’s carried for far too long. The words falling so softly you almost miss them.
You turn in his embrace so that you can face him, the sheet sliding off your shoulder, and what you see makes your breath catch. He isn't smiling when your eyes meet- his expression stripped bare of its usual sharp edges and smirk.
Toji Zen'in, whose eyes tell stories of a man who's never had anything permanent, never wanted anything to last.
Until you.
Who traces your cheek with calloused fingers like you're something precious, something that could slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.
Toji Zen'in doesn't smile nor whoops in triumph or pull you into a passionate kiss. He simply pulls you closer to him after you whisper "yes," tucking you under his chin where you've always fit perfectly.
Whose heartbeat is steady against your cheek- the rhythm of home, of belonging, of a man who has finally found his harbor after a lifetime at sea. No grand gestures needed, no flowery declarations.
This is all Toji Zen'in needed- his arms around you, his breath in your hair, and the absolute certainty that he has finally found something worth keeping... Worth staying with forever.
<333

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ruin the friendship w/ bsf!sukuna
play while reading: ruin the friendship
The first time he called you stupid, you were seven years old, sitting on the curb with a scraped knee and tears streaming down your face.
“You’re stupid, you know that?” Sukuna had said, standing over you with his arms crossed. But even then, his hands weren’t as harsh as his words. He had knelt down, slapping a neon Band-Aid over the cut with clumsy fingers. “Stop crying. It’s just blood.”
“Shut up,” you had sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve. “You dared me to jump off the swing.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
That was the baseline. The constant. Sukuna was the boy who pushed you into the dirt and then pulled you back up, dusting you off while complaining about it the entire time.
By the time you hit fourteen, things started shifting. It wasn’t some grand, cinematic epiphany. It was a Tuesday. You were sitting on his bedroom floor, doing algebra homework while he played some first-person shooter on his console. You looked up to ask him a question, and the words just died in your throat.
He had grown over the summer. His shoulders were broader, his jawline sharper, and his voice had dropped an octave that made something in your stomach flip. He caught you staring, pausing the game and turning his head.
“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing,” you muttered, quickly looking back down at your textbook. Your face felt hot.
“You’re staring at me like I’ve got two heads. Do I have shit on my face?”
“No, you’re just ugly,” you shot back, a defense mechanism you’d perfected over the years.
Sukuna scoffed, throwing a crumpled-up piece of paper ate your head. “Fuck off. You’re just mad you’re still built like a twig.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart was hammering against your ribs. That was the year the crush settled in, quiet and persistent. By fifteen, it was a dull ache. By sixteen, it was a living, breathing thing that sat between you on the couch, rode in the passenger seat of his beat-up Honda, and lingered in the spaces between your fingers when your hands brushed.
What you didn’t know was that somewhere between sixteen and eighteen, Sukuna was having a crisis of his own.
He looked at you one night while you were laughing at a stupid joke he made, the streetlights catching the curve of your smile, and it hit him so hard he couldn’t breathe. He was neck-deep in love with you. But Sukuna’s world was chaotic, angry, and unpredictable. You were the only thing that made sense. You were the only constant. If he crossed that line and they crashed and burned—which, knowing him, they would—he would lose you. And he couldn’t survive that.
So, he built a wall. A transparent one, but a wall nonetheless.
When you were nineteen, you tried to break it down.
It was raining, and you were both sitting in his car outside your apartment building. The engine was off, the windows fogging up from your breath. The tension in the small space was suffocating.
“Are you going to go out with him?” Sukuna asked, his voice tight. He was staring straight ahead at the dashboard, his jaw clenched so hard you thought his teeth might crack. He was talking about a guy from your psych class who had asked yo out.
“I don’t know,” you said softly, turning your head to look at his profile. “Do you want me to?”
“I don't know, why the hell are you asking me.”
You shifted in your seat, turning your body toward him. You were so tired of the games. So tired of the almosts. “Give me a reason to say no, Sukuna. Just one.”
He finally looked at you, and the sheer desperation in his eyes made your breath hitch. He looked like he wanted to devour you, to pull you across the console and never let you go. His hand twitched on the steering wheel.
“We could be more, you know,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his wrist.
He flinched, pulling his arm back just an inch, but it felt like a mile. “Don’t.”
“Sukuna—”
“I said don’t,” he snapped, his voice rough. He ran a hand through his hair, looking away. “Don’t ruin this. You’re my best friend. You’re the only good thing I’ve got. Don’t fuck it up by making it complicated.”
The rejection felt like a physical blow. You swallowed hard, nodding slowly as you pulled your hand back to your lap. “Right. Okay. I won’t ruin it.”
You got out of the car that night with a fractured heart, and the wall between you turned to concrete.
College was a masterclass in tiptoeing.
You both fell into a larger circle of friends, which made it easier to hide the tension.
It was a Friday night at Gojo’s off-campus apartment. The music was vibrating through the floorboards, the air thick with the smell of cheap beer and weed. You were sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs, watching the chaos unfold in the living room.
“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” a soft voice said.
You looked over to see Choso leaning against the fridge, holding out a red Solo cup filled with water.
“Is it that obvious?” you asked, taking the cup with a grateful smile.
“Only to people paying attention,” he replied, taking a sip of his own drink. His eyes held yours for a second longer than necessary, warm and steady.
Across the room, you felt the weight of a stare. You didn’t even have to look to know it was Sukuna. He was sitting on the arm of the sofa, a beer dangling losely from his fingers, his eyes narrowed as he watched you and Choso.
“Are you two ever gonna just fuck and get it over with?” Gojo yelled over the music, slinging an arm around Sukuna’s shoulders and pointing at you.
The entire room seemed to quiet down for a split second. Utahime smacked the back of Gojo’s head. “Satoru, shut the fuck up.”
“What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking!” Gojo whined, rubbing his head.
“Fuck off,” Sukuna snarled, shoving Gojo’s arm off him. He didn’t look at you. He just stood up and walked out onto the balcony, slamming the sliding glass door behind him.
You forced a laugh, looking down at your water. “He’s just drunk. Ignore him.”
Choso didn’t laugh. He just watched you carefully. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you lied, your chest aching. “I’m good.”
That was how it went for years. Always okay with how things were, but never enough. Sukuna was always there—he helped you move apartments, he threatened guys who looked at you wrong, he remembered your coffee order down to the exact amount of sugar. But he never crossed the line. He kept you safely in the ‘best friend’ box, terrified that if he took you out, he’d break you.
And you let him. Because having a piece of him was better than having nothing at all.
_______
It was a few weeks before graduation. The reality of the real world was looming over all of you, making everyone a little more reckless, a little more desperate to hold onto the present. You were all gathered in Shoko’s living room, sitting in a messy circle on the floor, surrounded by empty bottles of tequila.
“Alright, Never Have I Ever,” Geto announced, leaning back against the couch. “Never have I ever… failed a class and lied to my parents about it.”
Gojo, Shoko, and Utahime drank.
The game went on, the questions getting progressively more invasive as the alcohol hit. You were sitting cross-legged, your knee almost brushing Sukuna’s. He was quiet tonight, his eyes heavy and dark as he watched the group. Choso was sitting on your other side, his presence a comforting weight.
“My turn,” Shoko said, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. She looked around the circle, “Never have I ever… been in love with someone in this room.”
The room went silent.
Gojo smirked and took a sip. Geto rolled his eyes but drank. Utahime glared at Gojo and took a shot.
You stared at your cup. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. You could've lied, but you didn't. You were twenty-two years old. You were graduating. You were so goddamn tired of hiding, so you made one selfish thing. One desperate move that you onow would open a pandora box within this corcle.
You raised your cup to your lips and took a long drink.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sukuna freeze. His hand, which had been resting on his knee, gripped the fabric of his jeans so hard his knuckles turned white. He didn’t drink.
“Oh, shit,” Gojo whispered, leaning forward. “Spill.”
“No,” Nanami said, adjusting his glasses. “That’s not the game. Leave it.”
“Don't be a party pooper,” Satoru suddenly said, a hint of mischievousness strengthen by the alcohol evident in his voice. He turned his head to look at you, his eyes burning into yours. “Who?”
The room felt like it had been sucked into a vacuum. Sukuna shifted beside you, his knees tensing, but he didn’t say a word.
“Satoru, drop it,” Geto warned softly.
“What! I'm just asking?” Satoru repeated, ignoring everyone else. You met his gaze, the tequila making you brave, or maybe just stupid. “You want to know?”
“Yeah. I do.”
You didn't need to mention his name, you looked beside you; towards Sukuna, and he was looking intensely at you, your voice remarkably steady despite the way your hands were shaking. “You. Since we were fourteen.”
Someone—probably Utahime—sucked in a sharp breath.
Sukuna stared at you, the words hitting him like a physical blow. His expression shattered, the indifference slipping to reveal absolute panic. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“But it doesn’t matter,” you continued, forcing a bitter smile. You set your cup down on the floor and stood up. “Because you’d rather be safe than be with me. I’m gonna go get some air.”
You walked out of the apartment, the heavy silence following you down the hallway. You made it to the alleyway behind the building before the tears started falling. You leaned against the brick wall, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself against the chill of the night.
The heavy metal door creaked open a minute later. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.
“Did you mean it?” Sukuna asked. His voice was stripped of all its usual arrogance.
You wiped your cheeks roughly. “Why would I lie about that? I tried once when we were in freshman, remember?”
He stepped closer, stopping just a few feet away. He looked wrecked. “Since we were fourteen?”
“Yes, Sukuna. Are you really that blind?”
“I’m not blind,” he snapped, running both hands over his face. “I’m just… fuck. You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me!” you yelled, pushing off the wall. “Explain why you look at me like you want me, why you act like I’m yours, but the second I try to make it real, you push me away!”
“Because I ruin everything!” he yelled back, his chest heaving. “Look at me! I’m a fucking mess. I’m angry, I’m selfish, and I destroy everything I touch. You are the only beautiful thing in my life. If we try this, and we crash and burn… I lose you. I can’t lose you. I would rather have you as my friend forever than have you as mine for a year and lose you for the rest of my life.”
The confession hung in the air, heavy and devastating.
You looked at him, really looked at him. At the fear in his eyes, the desperate way he was holding himself together. He loved you. He loved you so much it terrified him.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Sukuna,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “By not trying… you’re losing me anyway. I can’t keep waiting for you to be brave enough to love me out loud.”
He flinched, taking a step back as if you had struck him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’m done waiting. I'm asking you now, please... just please let's try and make it work.” He stared at you long, voice dying in his throat. He wasn't used to feeling anything other than anger, of all the times he felt happiness.. it was all during the times he shared with you.
He wasn't sure if he can risk losing you, the first time he felt like the world favored him was today, when he heard that you wantes to be with him.. but what can a broken man do when he was raised to believe that all the things he own will be destroyed one day?
When Sukuna didn't speak, you walked past him, your shoulder brushing his. He didn’t reach out to stop you. He just stood there in the dark, letting you go to save the friendship.
_____
Four years later.
The music swells, a soft acoustic melody that fills the garden. The sun is shining, catching the delicate lace of your white dress as you stand at the beginning of the aisle.
You take a deep breath, clutching the bouquet of white roses in your hands. Your father pats your arm, smiling proudly.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Ready,” you whisper.
You start walking. The faces of your friends and family blur together, a sea of smiles and happy tears. Gojo is dabbing his eyes dramatically with a handkerchief, Geto is laughing at him, Shoko is smiling softly, and Utahime looks like she’s trying not to cry.
And then, at the end of the aisle, is Choso.
He looks incredibly handsome in his tailored suit, his dark hair pulled back neatly. But it’s his eyes that ground you. They are so full of love, so steady, so absolutely certain. Choso never hesitated.
From the moment you took his hand that night after the party when you went inside, after Sukuna stayed quiet, after Sukuna stayed a coward; Choso on the otherhand made it clear that he wanted you. All of you. He wasn’t afraid of ruining anything, because he was determined to build something unbreakable.
You smile, your heart swelling with a quiet, peaceful kind of love.
You walked, eyes catching the movement in the front row, on the bride’s side.
Sukuna.
He’s wearing a suit, which is a miracle in itself. His hair is pushed back, and he looks older, sharper. He is your Man of Honor, a title he accepted with a tight smile and a nod when you asked him six months ago.
You meet his eyes as you pass by his row.
He is smiling at you, a soft, genuine smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. His eyes are screaming. They are filled with a grief so profound, an agony so deep, it almost makes you stumble.
In that split second, an entire lifetime passes between you. The scraped knees, the late-night drives, the shared looks across crowded rooms, the unspoken words that suffocated you both.
He didn’t ruin the friendship.
He kept his promise. He stayed your best friend, your constant, the guy who helped you pick out the catering menu for your wedding and threatened the florist when they got the order wrong.
He didn’t ruin the friendship.
As you break eye contact and look back at Choso, stepping up to the altar and taking your soon-to-be husband’s hands, Sukuna realizes the devastating truth.
He didn’t ruin the friendship.
But he never won either.
He watches you smile at Choso, the way your eyes crinkle at the corners, the way you look so incredibly safe and loved. He swallows hard, the lump in his throat feeling like shattered glass. He wishes he could say he never lost you. He wishes he could say that keeping you as a friend was enough.
Choso’s thumb gently strokes the back of your hand as the officiant speaks; Sukuna lowers his head, staring at the grass beneath his polished shoes.
He kept you in his life. But he lost you all the same. Atleast he didn't ruin the friendship... right?
an: the way i yearn for bestfriend sukuna fic where he doesn't end up w reader; i've had the song ruin the friendship stuck in my mind for the past 2 weeks and I had to write this down.. i should've just killed him off here, but i can't. ⚰️🫵🏻
Sound of Obedience
╰─ Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
What starts as a heated argument about your recklessness dissolves into something far more consuming—a power exchange that leaves you breathless and begging, finally uttering the word he's been waiting to hear.
content: Explicit sexual content, age gap dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink, rough sex, choking, dirty talk, size difference, possessive behavior, power imbalance, breeding kink, spanking, degradation/praise mix.
word count: 2,213
song: Say It by Tory Lanez
masterlist ୧₊˚ playlist
ᝰ.ᐟ your soft bf!toji is a total meanie in bed ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni
mean bf!toji spends the whole day being a total sweetheart—cooking you dinner, giving you soft kisses on the forehead, and holding your hand in public—only to completely lock the bedroom door, pin your wrists over your head, and look down at you with a dark, heavy stare that tells you the "nice guy" act is officially over for the night.
mean bf!toji is normally so gentle with his hands during the day, using his thumb to softly wipe a stray crumb off your face or tuck your hair behind your ear, but the second he gets you on the bed, those same hands are gripping your jaw tightly, forcing you to tilt your head up so he can admire how pretty you look when you're scared of him.
mean bf!toji loves to pamper you in public, happily carrying all the heavy grocery bags, pulling you to the safe side of the sidewalk, and letting you pick whatever movie you want to watch, all while secretly plotting exactly how he's going to make you cry and beg for mercy later that evening.
mean bf!toji is so hyper-aware of the contrast in his behavior that he uses it to mess with your head; he’ll lean down while you're trembling under him and whisper against your ear, “you like it better when i’m mean to you, don’t you?”
mean bf!toji ignores your whines and protests when he changes positions or pulls you around like a ragdoll. in daily life, he moves carefully around you so he doesn't accidentally hurt you, but in bed, he uses his massive size and weight to completely overwhelm you, letting you feel exactly how helpless you are against him.
mean bf!toji makes you beg for every single thing. even if he knows you're desperate, he will completely stop moving, prop himself up on his elbows, and stare at you with a smug smirk until you verbally ask for exactly what you want.
mean bf!toji loves slapping your pussy with his palm right before going in, loving the sharp, loud crack it makes against your skin and the way it leaves a bright pink mark that contrasts with his tanned hands. he’ll do it just to startle a loud gasp out of you, watching your thighs twitch as he tells you to open up wider.
distracting toji while he's on the phone...♡ (rough!toji x sweet!fem reader)
tojis halfway through a phone call when you climb onto the couch beside him, immediately curling into his side while he keeps talking, one arm stretched across the back of the cushions behind you and his phone pressed to his ear.
its something about money, something about work, something thats got his brows pulled together while he listens with that oh so familiar rough expression.
"yeah, I heard you," he mutters "then tell 'im I aint payin extra."
meanwhile, youre completely occupied with him.
your fingers find the side of his hair first, gently combing through the shorter strands near his temple while your cheek rests against his shoulder. toji keeps listening while you continue absent mindedly playing with him. your hand drifts lower, tracing the line of his jaw before finding his collar, smoothing it down and then fiddling with it again for no reason other than you just felt like touching it.
"because that aint what we agreed on." he says into the phone, voice steady despite the fact youve now moved on to his hands.
you turn one of them over in your lap, running your thumb along old scars and rough knuckles, tracing every line in his skin with a quiet concentration while the conversation continues.
the man on the other end keeps talking, and toji tries listening.
then your fingers slide to the rolled sleeves of his top, adjusting them before trailing slowly down his forearm, following the muscle there with light touches that dont mean much to you and mean everything to him.
his jaw tightens slightly. "yeah," he mutters into the phone, "mhm"
by now youve found his hand again, interwining your fingers with his, turning them, tracing the shape of his thumb while leaning a little more heavily into his side.
youre not even looking at him, youre just happy sitting there, all soft and sweet, quietly occupying yourself with whatever part of him happens to be within your reach.
the silence on the other end of the call stretches.
"...you still there?" the guy asks.
toji blinks once, realizing he hasnt heard a godamn thing for the last minute. his eyes drop to you where youre curled against him, happily playing with his fingers while resting your cheek on his shoulder.
"yeah." he says "keep talkin."
but his free hand is already settling over yours, thumb brushing across your knuckles while he looks down at you for a second longer than necessary, then he leans over and presses a rough distracted kiss against the top of your head without interrupting the call, squeezing your hand once before settling back into the couch.
toji still isnt listening to the man on the phone, not with you tucked into his side playing with his hair, his sleeves, his hands, every soft little touch way too distracting.
taglist: @@jjakeysheart @rkivesvs7 @c6choso @shea354 @kiwicherry04 @choco-chipp @tojibunnyy @tojisgdgirl @xoxocherrybabyy @dearwyn @pigtaileddolliee @tojiful @heartcandyslxt @lisabelhyhn @chaeisrichnow @chewiebee @tojisfiancee @retiredpanda @bbvvvy @princesplatano @jaehyunsleftnut @lightandfuryauthor @fysalia @alinacoke @ssrist @bl1ndv3lvet @lisa200976 @vheartsfushi @amarislovesmcdonalds @1ana22 @cherrieslovess @arcanehellokittyforlife69 @lov-3-x @str4wb3rrylife @whoiskaykay @sugurusbun @tojioppshotta @yumyumyu @yvesapple4 @733164 @peonysecret @pr1ncessthug @magicalpeenpoo @unknownowlbokutoswifeyy @eepynataly @bowiesprettieststar2 @bagleaf @lacedwithsarcasm @wholemeltt @ipoopedmypants47
© 2026 paperellina - all rights reserved. do not plagiarise, translate, or feed into any form of ai.
she's my collar
God of the Dead was always alone. With the coldness weighing his heart and the stench of gastly doom clinging to his skin. But then, one day, the world under his feet shifted. Heart bloomed with bizarre fondness. And the Lord of the Underworld soon started to wish for nothing but to taste Spring Goddess's sweetness every single day. Even if he were to accomplish it by force.
requ ested (pray forgive me for waiting so long)
included in Tales, Myths, Romances
pairings: Hades!Trueform Sukuna x Persephone!Reader
content/warnings: MDNI 18+, greek mythology au, mythologically accurate, possessive behaviour, slightly dark romance, kidnapping, devotion, obsession, heavy smut, Sukuna is his own warning, proper use of belly mouth, double penetration, belly bulges, mating press, oral sex (both), facesitting, yearning, symbolism, Cerberus is just a baby, pussydrunk Sukuna, he's down bad, but he's also toxic
WC: 13.7k (the visions have plagued me)
a/n: I think we all know the story of Hades and Persephone, so this time there's no need for a history lesson! I just hope you'll like it because I had lots of fun writing it! And thank you, dearest anons, for the request <3
divider by @/diviniye art by @/phantomosis on x
It was a universal truth that opposites attract.
Knowledge older than the Gods themselves.
Carved in marble and rivers, bending under the Greek sun in crystal serpentine. Crossing the lands, fields and meadows, with single droplets caressed by nymphs and fair birdies playing in the calm waters.
Everyone knew that opposites work together.
Everyone could look up and see the sun and the moon frolicking in the same sky. Brush their feet against the hard, stony paths covering the mountains, and yet see little snippets of flowers breaking through the surface. To experience sadness and joy, two contradictory feelings, yet impossible to exist without each other.
Everyone could enjoy the sharp breeze from the thunderstorms, preceded by the sizzling warmth coating their sweating skin.
Everyone knew the night had no meaning without a day. That spring couldn't exist without a death.
Everyone knew it.
Or did they?
Or was it maybe something that one, love-possessed God simply wished to believe in? That opposites could attract even in the most impossible-to-imagine scenarios.
It's not that the Gods of Olympus weren't paired in a rather bizarre manner. For there was a beauty of Aphrodite who cherished the brute God of War dearly. Zeus and Hera, so different and yet ruling over the divine world. And also Dionysus, who haunted by love towards a mortal, made her a goddess.
And yet, Lord Hades couldn't shake off the feeling that his love was plagued by a tragedy from the very beginning.
As how could it be that the Lord of the Underworld's heart, after thousands of years of being burdened by coldness, suddenly bloomed with restless warmth?
With a feeling so unknown and strange, his hand rested on his chest as if in desire to breeze the burning skin up. Long fingers tried to grab the muscle and tear the rosy flesh that separated him from it. But even the God of Death couldn't stop the lovely beating of his heart and mind tormented solely by a thought of… you.

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nerd!kuna clinging to you like the needy little bastard that he is.
fluff
sukuna’s glasses were always crooked, perpetually sliding down the bridge of his ridiculous nose because he refused to get them adjusted, choosing instead to aggressively shove them back up with his middle finger like some sort of aggressive anime antagonist who just calculated the exact trajectory of your downfall.
sukuna was, by all societal standards, an absolute menace to the public. he was the kind of guy who would look at a professor’s doctoral thesis, snort, and point out a formatting error in the bibliography just to watch the man’s soul leave his body. he had a tongue like a razor blade and an ego that could easily collapse under its own gravitational pull. people avoided him in the hallways like he was carrying a highly contagious strain of the bubonic plague.
but right now? right now, the terrifying, sharp-tongued academic tyrant was currently sitting on your bedroom floor, his massive frame folded into an impossibly small pretzel shape, looking up at you with the big, watery eyes of a golden retriever that had just been told it was banned from the couch forever.
“please,” he muttered, his voice dropping into a raspy, pathetic register that would have shocked his classmates into actual cardiac arrest. “just five more minutes. let me finish the chemistry module for you. you’re going to mess up the stoichiometry, i know you are, your brain literally short-circuits when there are more than three variables.”
you didn’t even look up from your phone, merely shifting your leg to lightly tap the tip of your fuzzy sock against his shoulder. “‘kuna. what did i say about insulting my cognitive abilities while begging for my attention?”
the reaction was instantaneous. a shudder ran through his entire spine, his shoulders dropping as if you had just physically drained the battery out of his system. it was honestly hilarious how fast the bravado evaporated. this man could argue a literal judge into a corner, yet one tiny, unimpressed glance from you turned him into a heap of useless mush.
“i wasn’t insulting you,” he scrambled to say, his hands twitching over his mechanical pencil. he looked so profoundly desperate, his hair messy where he’d been aggressively running his fingers through it all afternoon. “it’s a statistical fact. a data-driven observation. but i’ll stop. i’ll shut up. just don’t move your foot.”
heaven forbid he lose the absolute luxury of being your makeshift footrest.
people at school always whispered about how you survived being around him. they assumed he was some kind of overbearing, controlling brute who probably lectured you on astrophysics until your ears bled. little did they know, the reality was so sickeningly sweet it would give a dentist a stroke. sukuna didn’t boss you around; he lived to be bosses around by you. he was a certified, card-carrying servant to your every whim, completely paralyzed by the mere concept of your affection.
“i need a snack,” you announced casually, tossing your phone onto the mattress.
before the sentence had even fully cleared your lips, sukuna was already on his feet. he practically launched himself into the air like he’s programmed exclusively for your convenience. his chair scraped loudly against the floorboards, and his glasses flew off his face entirely, clattering onto your rug.
“i’ll get it,” he said breathlessly, completely ignoring his lack of vision as he squinted down at you. “what do you want? chips? those ridiculous yogurt with chocolate cereal that you like? i bought three packs of them yesterday because the grocery store had a sale and i calculated that your dopamine levels drop by twelve percent on thursdays.”
you stared at him, a slow, amused smile spreading across your face. “you’re staring at the wall, ‘kuna. your glasses are by your foot.”
he fumbled around blindly, his face flushing a spectacular, furious shade of crimson that extended all the way to the tips of his ears. once he shoved the frames back onto his face, he refused to meet your eyes, stubbornly looking at your pillows instead. “i knew that. i was testing the structural integrity of your wall.”
“sure you were. c’mere.”
the command was soft, barely a whisper, but it had the exact same effect as a leash being yanked. sukuna practically melted, his knees giving out as he dropped heavily onto the edge of your bed. the weight of him divoted the mattress, but he made himself as small as humanly possible, hovering just inches away from you like a moth resisting the urge to throw itself directly into a raging bonfire.
he was so ridiculously large compared to you, a towering wall of muscle and bad attitude that somehow shrank into a puddle of warm wax whenever you reached out. you wrapped your fingers around the collar of his oversized, slightly stained hoodies—he always smelled like old library books and expensive coffee—and pulled him down.
sukuna let out a pathetic, low whine in the back of his throat, burying his face directly into the crook of your neck. his nose nudged against your collarbone, his hot breath tickling your skin as he inhaled deeply, as if he were trying to memorize your exact molecular structure. his large hands hovered awkwardly in the air, trembling slightly, before he cautiously rested them on your waist, squeezing just enough to anchor himself but gentle enough that he might as well have been holding a piece of wet tissue paper.
“you’re warm,” he mumbled, his voice completely muffled by your skin. all the sarcasm, all the biting mockery he utilized as a shield against the rest of the world, was completely gone. he was just a boy who loved you so much it clearly physically pained him. “stay still. if you move, i’ll fail my coding assignment on purpose.”
“no you won’t. your academic perfectionism wouldn’t let you,” you teased, running your fingers through his soft, undercut hair.
he groaned, the sound vibrating directly against your chest. “then i’ll delete the professor’s database. don’t test me. i’m a desperate man.”
“you really are,” you laughed, tilting his chin up so you could look at him.
up close, without the glare of his laptop screen reflecting off his lenses, he looked incredibly soft. his eyelashes were thick, casting shadows over his sharp eyes that were currently wide and dilated, staring at your lips with a terrifying level of devotion. it was the kind of look that made your stomach do a backflip—a raw, unadulterated hunger that was entirely domestic. he looked at you the way an ancient astronomer might look at a newly discovered galaxy, completely awestruck and entirely out of his depth.
“can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly. it was a question he asked a thousand times a day, always terrified that he was somehow overstepping, always needing that explicit confirmation that he was allowed to touch you.
“obviously, you idiot.”
sukuna might have been a disaster at small talk, but he possessed an terrifyingly precise memory, and he had memorized exactly how you liked to be kissed down to the millisecond. he tilted your head back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hip, his lips moving against yours with a slow, agonizing sweetness that made your toes curl. he tasted like the sweet tea you’d shared earlier, and he kissed you like you were the only source of oxygen left on a dying planet.
he pulled back just a fraction, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing shallow. “i fuckin’ hate everyone else,” he whispered against your lips, a sudden, fierce rush of affection making his grip on your waist tighten. “they’re all so painfully stupid. but you... you’re perfect. it’s infuriating how much i need you to like me.”
“i do like you,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him back down. “even when you’re a snob.”
“i’m not a snob, i’m just statistically superior to the general population,” he mumbled, though there was absolutely no bite to it as he eagerly met your lips again, completely surrendered to the absolute chaos of being entirely yours.
© jumpjo — don’t copy, repost, or translate without my permission. do not use/feed my works to AI.
heian!sukuna with an overly sweet spoiled wife ♥︎
sfw drabble, sukuna vv much loves you (ironic lol), fluff, highk ooc but cmon we need a to be a lil delusional in our life <3
he’s a hypocrite.
“‘kuna! look at those cuties!” you pointed at the jumping toads while holding onto your husband’s arm, shaking it; as the other held your waist, and the rest on his left. “oh they’re wonderful!” you let a giggle out as he focused his gaze on yours. not a single eye on anything else. it’s simply unbelievable and everyone talks about it. how did he, get such a sweet beautiful woman as her to be his wife. or how did you, the sweetest person anyone could ever describe, get the king of curses to be running for your very own heart. “don’t you think so?”
he didn’t respond, just a simple hum. agreeing or disagreeing, it doesn’t really matter. all he wanted to hear was you talking anyways. the two of you strolled through the garden that he had formed for you; and sacredly only for you. picked every flower that he knows you’d like, and designed it to be formed exactly how you’d love it. and those who dares to walk through this very garden, would not be heard nor seen that same day.
as ever since you, noone could came close into having his affection. almost like a cheaply made folklore romance story. the two of you crossed the bridge of the makeshift river that he carved into the sea. “you’ve made all of this for me?” your smile impaled him more than anything that ever touched him, “only the best, for you.” he said with a little more than just pride. “that’s so so sweet of you!” you took a small jump on the side to hug around his shoulder placing your left cheek across his, where he catched you easily by your waist.
he wouldn’t say it, but this is what he does to show love to you.
ⓘ 𝓪ll rights reserved, auelisse on tumblr.