ronk, 23

you wake up with sun rays beaming through the lone window of your bedroom, your body entangled with your hunk of a boyfriend, enjin. normally, you're always the one up first but this time he is — and with the most petulant pout you've ever seen him put on.

"morning, jinnie." you yawn, planting a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. but he doesn't say anything, just juts out his bottom lip even further. "what's with you this morning?"

he sighs dramatically, like you'd just personally offended him. he snuggles up to closer to you, burying his face right in the middle of your chest. classy. "you didn't do that thing you do last night." he mumbles, staring up at you with puppy eyes. "you know . . . what you do after we have sex."

you ponder on what he'd just said, thinking about what it is he's talking about. then, after a few moments, it clicks. oh . . he's talking about that. he's such a baby!

you begin to move your finger over his inked body, tracing each of his tattoos, your touch so soft and delicate — you swear that you hear him purr the second you start doing so. he nuzzles closer to you, the biggest smile stretched across his features.

"so that's all this was, huh?" you muse, now tracing the lines across his back. "you were in a mood because i didn't do this last night?"

"well it's your fault for spoiling me like this." enjin huffs as he melts into your touch, practically giddy after getting what he'd been wanting for the last few hours!

"would you do this if i had tattoos on my dick too?"

"shut the fuck up."

He watches your body like a hawk. Tracks your cycle. Fucks you stupid the week you’re ovulating, dripping possessiveness every time he spills cum deep inside you. Doesn’t stop even when you’re shaking, overstimulated, dazed and bruised from the intensity of it all.

And every time your period comes on time, like clockwork, his eyes get darker. His thrusts rougher. His grip bruising. He mutters curses under his breath, things like “Useless little cunt,” and “You better hold onto it this time,” while forcing his cock as deep as he can go, grinding slow just to flood you with another load. When he pulls out and watches it leak, he shoves it back in with his fingers, murmuring things like “not wasting a drop, sweetheart” or “c’mon, take it all.”

He starts keeping you in bed longer. Legs up, hips tilted, cock still twitching inside you even after he’s emptied everything he’s got. All in a desperate, obsessive attempt to make it take.

Vs.

And you decided to challenge him and he doesn't back down from a challenge. So guess what? Now you're in his quarters, with your face pressed into his mattress as he's railing you with all he's got and telling you that "this is what happens when you don't wipe that stupid fuckin' look off your face".

After that, you started going out of your way to push his buttons if it meant that you'd be getting fucked viciously every time.

˖ ࣪ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 satoru gojo manhandles you the way he wants. his big, veiny hands will pull you into a sloppy kiss and spread your thighs easily despite how tight you’re squeezing them together so he doesn’t know how wet you are from just his kisses.

˖ ࣪ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 suguru geto talks you through it while he ruins you. say goodbye to your pussy, tits, walking skills — yet still, he won’t shut up. every time he thrusts into you and you whimper, he smirks and attacks your neck, talking with his gravelly voice against your skin.

˖ ࣪ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 itadori yuji nuts everywhere. inside your cunt, ass, mouth, on your tits, stomach, back. he wants you covered on his load and marked forever — just to show you how much he loves you.

˖ ࣪ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 megumi fushiguro is the sweetest boyfriend — who also degrades you in bed. he’ll kiss your neck as you bounce desperately on his cock just to hear your sweet noises, talking against your jaw “look how pathetic you are” he nibbles, “stupid girl fucking herself like a vice”

˖ ࣪ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 toji fushiguro eats both holes when you finally give in to sit on his face. he will eat your pussy first, tongue lapping greedily until you can’t take it and squirt on his face, then his tongue will swirl around your ass with your juices still on his tongue.

you’re sprawled on megumi’s bed, legs tangled with his, the late afternoon sun filtering through the half-closed blinds.

right now, he’s got you pinned gently under him, lips soft and slow against yours, kissing you like he has all the time in the world.

“just kissing” he’d murmured earlier, voice low and serious when you climbed into his lap. “i promise. no funny business.”

you’d laughed, poking his chest. “yeah, sure. because that’s ever worked before.”

he’d given you that deadpan look, the one that somehow makes his pretty face even hotter. “im a man of my words.”

“you’re a man who gets hard the second our tongues touch.” you’d shot back, grinning.

he’d rolled his eyes, muttering “shut up” before pulling you into the kiss anyway.

and now here you are... twenty minutes later- his “just kissing” promise completely forgotten. his tongue is deep in your mouth, hot and slick, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other slides under your shirt, thumb brushing over your nipple until you’re arching into him with a soft whine.

he pulls back just enough to breathe against your lips, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide. “fuck,” he whispers, voice rougher than usual. “you taste so good.”

you tug at his hair, trying to drag him back down. “thought we were keeping it pg, mr. a man of his word.”

a tiny huff escapes him- his version of a laugh. “yeah, well.. you make that impossible.”

then he’s kissing you again, harder this time, grinding his hips down slow so you feel exactly how hard he is through his sweats. you moan into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, and that’s all it takes.

clothes come off fast-your shirt yanked over your head, his sweats shoved down just enough to free his cock. he’s thick, flushed dark, tip already leaking as he strokes himself once, twice, staring down at you like he’s starving.

“need you,” he mutters, almost to himself, lining up and pushing in with one slow, deep thrust.

you gasp sharp, back bowing off the bed as he stretches you open— always so much, always so full. he bottoms out with a low groan, forehead dropping to yours, breath shaky. “nngh... baby...”

“fuck— so tight,” he curses under his breath, pulling out slow just to slam back in. the bed creaks, headboard tapping the wall as he sets a brutal pace right from the start.

he’s not loud- never is- just hot, ragged breaths against your neck, quiet growls and whispered “shit… fuck…” every time your walls flutter around him. but his body says everything. his hips snapping hard, pounding you into the mattress, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread wide while the other laces fingers with yours beside your head.

“so pretty,” he breathes against your lips, kissing you messy- tongue sliding against yours, swallowing every moan you give him. “taking me so well- you feel so good, baby”

you’re already dumb on it, eyes rolling back, babbling his name between broken whimpers. “gumi- ahh— t-too deep—”

he just thrusts harder, angling to hit that spot that makes you see stars, sweat dripping from his hair onto your chest.

“yeah?” he pants quietly, voice strained. “too deep? but you’re soaking me- pussy’s sucking me in like you need it.”

you can’t answer. just claw at his back, legs shaking as he fucks you senseless, cock dragging against every sensitive inch inside you.

the wet slap of skin on skin fills the room, obscene and loud along with the loud squelching of your pussy getting abused.

he suddenly shifts, hooking your legs over his shoulders to fold you in half, and drives even deeper— balls slapping against your ass with every rough thrust.

“fuck—gonna cum inside you,” he groans low, pace turning erratic. “fill you up— can i, baby? fuck, let me cum inside you, please—”

you shatter first, crying out his name as your orgasm hits hard, walls clamping down so tight he hisses through his teeth. two, three more brutal thrusts and he’s cumming— hot, thick ropes painting your insides as he grinds deep, riding it out with quiet, shuddering breaths against your neck.

he came so much that it leaks around his buried cock, dripping down to your ass and to the already ruined sheets.

he stays buried for a long moment, kissing your jaw soft and slow, then your lips- gentle again, like the switch never flipped.

“you horndog,” you mumble weakly, voice hoarse.

he huffs again, that dry little almost-laugh, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “yeah. my bad.”

megumi likes to go stupid.

✴︎ content : bsf!megumi x reader, smut, body worship, grinding, nipple play, he busts in his pants, gray sweats :0, slight angst?? mentions of depression + anxiety, gooner!megumi

megumi has no clue how he got here.

all he remembers is watching a movie—a movie with you, and suddenly two of the characters are making out and you’re tense and he’s tense and you’re asking if he’s ever done that before.

if he’s ever thought about it.

he wasn’t expecting it from you.

sheepish, sweet you who didn’t know he’s thought about it. a lot.

and then suddenly his hands are shaking and he can’t control his breathing and your lips are on his and it just feels so good.

your warm hands are on his chest and every touch feels so sensitive and he’s pulling you closer and kissing you harder and his slender fingers are digging into your hips.

maybe it was a fit of unexpected hormones that led him here. all he knew is that you were touching him and he wanted it so badly.

pathetic.

and now it’s really pathetic—your legs are bracketing the sharp lines of his hips, he threw his shirt on the floor a long time ago, just laying there and letting you run your hands all over him.

you don’t know he’s sensitive. he didn’t really think he was either. but when the opportunity presents itself—body worship by the prettiest girl he thinks he’s ever seen? yeah, he’s twitching like crazy.

his face is so flushed you’d think he was straight out of some porn-for-plot hentai panel, and for fucks sake, he can’t control his breathing.

chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths, one arm flexed and gripping the sheets below him for dear life while the other is thrown over his eyes in any attempt to shield his face, the dark lighting of his room casting shadows over the sharp lines of his bicep.

his body dysmorphia was something he covered well. people often made offhand comments about how skinny he was. he wasn’t skin and bones, but any idea of a sleeper build on him?? he didn’t think it was a possibility.

and yet, the way you’re touching him right now, he feels like the prettiest boy alive.

he’s well aware you can feel him under you. bricked up through those gray sweatpants (which admittedly turn you on everytime he wears them), the desperate heat of him seeping through all your layers of clothing.

he’s choosing to ignore it.

he’s succeeding at that. all his thoughts are blending together and he can feel himself going dumb.

because who would’ve thought—the quiet, brooding boy who manipulates shadows, uses sarcasm like a shield and has never scored below 90% is a boyslut who likes to go stupid.

usually its late at night.

when he can’t stop thinking about you.

maybe he’s upset about something. a mission—people he couldn’t save, things he was forced to do by the higher-ups just to succeed. maybe he’s feeling shitty. anxiety spiking, and honestly he doesn’t want to be awake.

and then he thinks about you and how you could probably lift him out of any mood.

he can’t help himself.

he’s guilty—so, so guilty. the absolute disrespect he feels when he thinks that way about you is almost unforgivable. but it’s too good.

every thought leaves his head. he loves that he can just.. forget. about everything. feel good for a few hours.

he flinches as your hand trails up the pale line of his neck, turning his head to the side on instinct.

“feels nice?” you murmur idly, borderline fascinated by his reactions and how easily he gives in.

he doesn’t trust his voice, deciding to just nod and pray he doesn’t cum right then and there.

arm still thrown across his eyes, slumped against his headboard, and he think he’s about to die when you shift in his lap, rubbing him just right.

his lips part in a little gasp and you’re not sure you can’t help yourself.

your hands move down—brushing over his collarbones, before sliding down… down to his sides, which you learn are very sensitive, watching him squirm like that. down to his flat stomach, lined with those abs you’ve only seen when he stretches, and have so desperately wanted to touch since then.

you watch the muscles over his stomach clench and twitch, and at first you think the area itself is sensitive until you feel him twitch—sharp and hot—under his sweats.

“oh.”

you grin, hands sliding to hold his pretty waist.

his lips part slightly, voice wavering; “shhh—shut up..” he’s speaking quieter, trying not to embarrass himself too much.

he fails immediately.

the second you shift over him, a deliberate grind disguised as a nonchalant change of position, a small, almost imperceptible whimper leaves his throat.

your adoration for this boy increases tenfold.

fuck, he whimpers too??!

you watch in awe as he genuinely buries his face into the pillow next to him, ears burning scarlet.

“nonono— don’t-“ you giggle. you fucking giggle and he’s going to pass out soon. “don’t hide from me.”

he can hear that stupid, faux pout in your voice and he’s genuinely considering glaring at you until you nuzzle into his neck and every thought he’s ever had flies out of his head.

you’re kissing him so sweetly, nibbling at the base of his neck, trying to lure him out and he’s genuinely about to fall for it.

you can feel the way he melts instantly, shaky gasping into the pillow as your hands run all over that pretty body of his while you kiss at his neck.

you suck, he thinks. do not give in.

he wants it. he wants it so, so bad.

but what if he embarrasses himself?? being a freak on the down low paired with soul crushing anxiety paired with the opportunity to get freaky with the prettiest girl ever is possibly the worst combo he has ever been presented with.

and then that thought is flicked out of his head like a fucking flea when you nibble on a certain spot under his jaw. and then your hands slowly creep up to his pecs, two fingers coming up to tweak his left nipple and suddenly he’s so dumb he doesn’t pay any mind to what he’s saying.

“ohmyfuck, please..”

a muffled whine into the pillow you almost miss.

his eyes are rolling back and his body is on fire and all you can do is coax his face out of the pillow to look at you.

“what was that?”

his eyes are blown and glazed over, hair somehow more tousled than usual, face flushed so prettily and lips swollen from tugging them between his teeth.

all he can think as he meets your eyes is prettyprettypretty.

the column of his throat shifts as he gulps, breathing still heavy and uneven.

“please..”

good fucking god. he’s so sexy.

and you just can’t help yourself. your hands move up to the sides of his face, kissing him so sweetly, only the faintest of noises leaving his throat before you deliberately move your hips over his bulge and he’s whimpering.

he’s an absolute mess. taking him apart with every grind, bucking his hips up into your clothed heat like he’s trying to rut into you.

he’s panting into your mouth, letting you shove your tongue down his throat and he’s just taking it like a good boy becuase he can’t think anymore. just use me use me use me..

he thinks he’s done for when you start whimpering. he’s thought about it—god, he has—how you’d sound, what you’d do to him, what you’re into.

he’s not disappointed. murmuring sweet nothings into his mouth; “such a pretty boy…” “i didn’t think you’d be like this, megs..”

he doesn’t realize he’s cumming until you only start grinding faster, his eyes rolling back and moaning pathetically into your mouth just to make it better for him.

you’re practically bouncing on it—and for the nth time tonight he truly believes he is going to meet god. his arms lock around your waist when your back arches, grinding hard and sharp into his overstimulated cock, panting and moaning into his mouth.

hearing you cum—getting off on him—was all he’s ever needed.

you lay like that for a while. flushed, sweaty, underwear sticking to you both going from hot to uncomfortable as the afterglow develops.

his arms are still wrapped around you. because sure, you’ve wanted to have him like this, but above all you just wanted to be his. to be held by him. to know what’s really under those walls.

megumi has two walls. the first ones—reinforced, you’d imagine they were crafted from diamond or something. pretty, and unimaginably difficult to get under.

though you did. with the title of best friend.

the second walls are wooden. fragile, vulnerable. they hide his deepest secrets. desires, insecurities, the darkest parts of his head. they shield the little kid in him that just wanted a normal life. he was doomed from the beginning. they’re wood because they could be burned so easily. and then he’s broken. you haven’t quite gotten under those yet.

but you want to be his. and maybe… he’ll let you.

“i’m so sorry.”

your voice breaks the silence. quiet, raspy from your moans.

he furrows his brows.

“for… what??”

your head snaps up and he jolts.

“that was really weird. of me. i feel like i totally just took advantage of you.”

his jaw drops.

“what the fuck are you talking about.”

“just—“ you rush. “if that was weird and you hated it and you’ll never see me the same because that’s what i’m into then i get it.”

his hands leave your waist, only to sit up. he’s scared to hold you again. his expression morphs into a scowl, at his own feelings, and he turns his head away.

“i.. i liked it.” he winces. are you baiting him? does he have to go kill himself now??

you blink. “ok. ..good. i liked it too.”

he nods, heart beating just slightly faster.

he doesn’t look at you, too embarrassed, but his arms snake around your waist once again.

✴︎ a/n : I HATE THIS

© lipstainedgemini 2025

i do not condone plagiarism, stealing, copying, or translation of any of my works without permission.

"hnnuhh, b-baby, wait—!" then you're sinking down, just an inch further, he's gripping your waist, and instead of trying to thrust into you, he's trying to pull out to no avail. he'd already came twice just from pushing the tip in. you're a succubus. smiling down at him devilishly, hands gripping his shoulders, pushing him past his limits just for your entertainment.

satoru's teeth are gritted, his back arched, thighs clenching and shaking from how good you feel. "hah—hon-honey, light of my—ungggh, fuck, p-please." you've barely moved. you're not sure why he's so sensitive really. every other guy you've been with has obviously loved your pussy, but not like how satoru does. he loves it so much he's pulling away from it.

his head tips back, body arching as you slide down just a little more, maybe two inches. he's so hard and overstimulated and needy, so much it hurts. you're evil for this, he thinks. yes, you're beautiful and amazing and everything else perfect. yes, you are an evil witch for how good your pussy is.

"you feel so gooood, satoru, baby," you purr, grinning so hard your teeth might break. he could just cum from you talking. "ngh, please don't say that," he practically pleads, so pathetic and cute and flushed. he doesn't even want to look at you. he's so close to cumming again he can't even bear to see how pretty you must look right now.

soft tits out, body arched forward with your chest almost touching his. "will you look at me?" you ask softly, running your hand over his head and smoothing his snowy tufts of hair back. that's it, that's all it takes and he's shooting another load in you.

you should've expected it honestly. he's so sensitive right now if you had moved your pussy an inch he probably would've shot his load anyway. may as well get it out of the way now. he can barely react, only able to cry out hoarsely, trying to pull out of your impossibly tight cunt.

you don't let him. instead, you slam down on his cock, forcing him to bottom out. the pleasure is numbing now, white hot and so powerful that it takes over. his cum fills you, leaks down his cock as it spills out, just as the other few times hes busted just from a slight move or a touch or a kiss.

"look at me, satoru," you coo, hands sliding into his hair, gently lifting his head. his eyes are squeezed closed, lips quivering. "eyes open." he obeys because its you and you own him. you own his moans, his cock, his mouth, his entire body, his soul. his eyes are glossy, tears slowly sliding down his cheeks. christ, he's so pretty.

"your eyes are so pretty, my love," you hum, using your thumbs to wipe the tears from his eyes, "you're so handsome too, mm." he whines, eyebrows pinching together, so pouty and teary-eyed.

"will a kiss make you feel better?"

he can only nod, body arching at just the thought. your lips find his, soft and sweet and glossy, pussy squeezing just a bit around his still-hard cock just a little bit, and he cries out, whimpering against your lips. a little giggle escapes your mouth at how sensitive he is.

part one here

yes—it felt good. heavenly, even. feeling him fill you up without a contraceptive barrier between you might overlap an ego death on the life-altering-experiences venn diagram.

but now your boyfriend throws a tantrum whenever you tell him to wrap it. he pouts and whines and stamps his fucking feet like a child at your child-preventative measures. he’s too tall to act like a toddler—if you didn’t secretly enjoy the pining you’d hit him upside the back of his head and tell him to stop sulking.

“we’re too young to be parents,” you’d tell him as he rubs his uncovered cock through your folds, from your entrance up to your sensitive clit and back down.

his counter? “ the earlier we start, the longer we have to try for more. ”

“maybe you're forgetting the whole ‘jujutsu sorcerer, could-die-at-any-moment ' thing?”

“are you forgetting that i’m the strongest? plus, i think i’d look hot saving the world wearing a baby carrier… not that i would endanger our kid like that. bad point, ask me a new one.”

“we aren’t playing trivia.”

“cmon,” a tap of the head of his cock to your clit. “humour me.”

“alright, children are fucking expensive.”

“babe, you’re not serious—you do know i’m filthy rich, right? capitalism fears me. i’m like that rich disney duck with the top hat and—”

you point a finger in his face. “put a goddamn condom on or you’re banned from sex for a month, scrooge.”

and he blinks, pretends to be offended at how responsible you are, and then falls into an easy smile because sex with you is more than enough for him. when he sinks into you, condom-covered or not, he falls a little bit more in love each time.

but it is not the same and you know it.