No Crumbs Were Left. What? Crumbs? What Crumbs?

Men with muscular thighs oml😌🤧😍

seeing toji’s caked up ass and smacking it.

he was innocently on his phone, lying on his stomach with his feet in the air before he felt a hard slap landing on his butt.

“what. the. fuck.”

you couldn’t not burst out laughing at the almost horrified tone in his voice while loving the sight of toji’s open mouth, cheeks tinting an adorable pink.

he was gobsmacked, speechless while you stood there giggling at his shock.

his gaze simply screamed why but his butt was just there, all round and tempting.

the combination of his thick thighs clenched and slutty shorts riding up his meaty legs quite frankly had you drooling — let alone the slither of skin showing from his jumper sliding up.

why would you not give it a smack ?

Ma babygirl🤞🏻🤭🥴🫶🏻😍

Special illustration for Gojo's birthday.

GUYS. Just joined tumblr like a month ago and the sheer talent??! Like I absolutely adore the SMAUS by @retiredteabag, @saintkaylaa, @sweetsugarine, @sanaoria, and so many more lmao I’m too lazy to put them all here rn. So anyways HIIII! (Just didn’t want my profile to be empty lmao.)

Literary marvel🤟🏻🤌🏻💖

DDD

Synopsis. What’s destroyed on Destroy D!ck December? Him.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, MARATHONS, heavy overstím, creampíes, BRÉEDING, cúmplay, pússydrunk men, ínnapropríate use of jujutsu, powers going haywire, matíng press, making them cry, bondagé (Nanami), GOJO’S POWERS, mánhandling, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s mouths, p talking, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.1k

A/N. Hope you all have a lovely December <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 23rd Dec. 5:46AM

It’s around this time that Toji Fushiguro loses count - loses his damn mind. 

Gasping- heaving back every tiny whimper when his ruby red tip plants sopping wet smacks right down your tender folds. Gushing out generous helpings of pearly white that slip and slide all the way down.

And it hasn’t been once. Oh, it hasn’t even been twice. 

Dozens upon dozens of times - for hours now - Toji was collapsing his big, beefy limbs down into yours in the messiest mating press. With a dragged-out groan, he’s smearing his thumb down the edges of your treacling slit, popping it into his mouth eagerly. 

“Heh- jus’ look at her all overflowin’ f’me.” Toji’s rasping - voice so shot he could barely even breathe. And you wonder if he even realizes he’s babbling this way. “S’that oh- s’that twenty-three, yet?” 

It better not be.

Toji refuses to let it be. 

“C-can feel it coming again-” he’s choking out a ragged whine. How embarrassing. Thick fingers curling around your throat to squeeze, “-can hah- can I- inside again…please, doll.”

It’s as if on some slutty autopilot that you let his massive, calloused palms glide down your thighs and push. The way his bulging biceps flex with strain makes your mouth water - all bulging and covered in a thin sheen of sweat that smears against yours. 

He was out of control. Out of his sanity.

And just one peak down at the creamy ring your cunt was coating around his hefty hilt was enough for Toji to throw his head back with a moan of your name.

Destroyed. 

With a fatigued shiver, he’s spearheading his fat head into you until you see white, dragging a drippingly wet swipe of steaming hot precum all over your cushiony sweet spots.. 

Whispering, “Shit- what ya do to me- s-squeeze me- squeeze me with that pretty pussy jus’ once.” Racking out a bout of violent shivers down the entirety of his hulking body when your sloppy walls give his girth a tight little clench. 

And that’s all it takes for Toji to cum.

All it takes for his sensitive cock to bawl out in stringy wads of seed that splatter right into the bottom of your pussy, pumping you full. Toji falls tiredly onto his elbows with a sudden hiss at the stinging thwack! of his twitchy balls sticking to your skin. 

“O-oh yeah- that’s twenty-two- milk me- milk me, doll.” And it feels so good that it’s almost painful, stars bursting over and over behind his teary lids when his own seed sloshes a white gloss down every delicate ridge and vein of his. “Heheh- takin’ m-me so well-  jus’ one more right? We’re almost there-”

But he’s already lost count.

And Toji doesn’t care - he doesn’t even give a shit.

The way your puffy pussy lips were sucking up his cock was like a sheer miracle after the long, treacherous task of November. Tch- who even came up with such a thing as no nutting? Though, he couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t like the idea of December…

Yeah, he was going to fill his girl’s needy lil’ pussy with his cum again and again until he reaches his mark of twenty-three even if it kills him. And he could die a happy death right between these jittery legs of yours. 

You whine, grappling towards the thudding headboard that was now indenting your poor wall. You didn’t know how the hell he was still going. “B-but are you sure you can, baby? Don’t know if it’ll f-fit-”

“Oh- don’t speak so f-filthy ta me with that sweet mouth, ma.” 

“But Toji—”

Toji juts his scarred lips out in what you swear was almost a pout. He’s squeezing your delicate neck warningly, other hand pushing down on your tummy to make your sloppy entrance gush out in milky white dredges. Strangling out, “See? A-all you hafta ta do is shut up and take my fuckin’ cock- take my cum.” And he’s so lazy, all dripping with sweat and sheer sex when Toji slides his cheek down your own like an animal. “My pretty girl can ngh- d-do that f’me, right?”

It was so rare that you get to see the great Toji Fushiguro like this. 

So drunk on the power and the way he was kissing up French peck after peck against your g-spot that it makes you smile. “O-only if you hngh- beg.”

“Doll…”

“Beg.”

Truly, you imagined that Toji would roll his greedy green eyes- shit, were those tears in them? at you and simply snicker. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to grunt, before dragging you with the vice-like grip on your neck to meet his smacking sharp hips. Down, down, down- 

“Tch.” he’s grumbling, condensed breath feverish on your face. Sharp jaw clenching almost painfully - but not as painfully as the way his thick cock was swollen so rock-hard. Needy. Desperate. “M’begging you, ma- please l-let me cum- inside this cute cunt.”

You can only nod - nod and nod when his weepy tip plants pound after pound on your thoroughly bruised cervix. 

“Atta girl.”

And with a slight swat! from the rounded edges of his fat digits down onto your pulsing clit - you don’t know who’s cumming first. 

So hot and blissful. It’s like you were floating in heaven when Toji wrangles your body down flat onto the sheets and cums. Cumming and cumming yet- his utterly dazed eyes snap open, nothing was coming out.

“Shit-” Toji guides his free hand to wrap around his fat reddened base. Pumping up and down up and down up and- he half blacks out. “Fuck…c-completely ruined me, ma.” And the only thing that Toji can let loose is a few thick beads of his seed that dot your precious sweet spots. 

But he wasn’t having that.

In an instant, you’re being jostled with every ounce of strength in his large body. Straddling Toji’s slender hips, you’re collapsing to rub down his washboard abs. And he only grins, he only lolls his head drunkenly into the plush pillows. 

Overstimulated cock twitching ferally against your elastic walls as he still keeps cumming dry, he didn’t know if he could make it…“That- ngh- doesn’t count. So why dontcha ride me to t-twenty-three, doll?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 16th Dec. 7:30PM

“Don’t run.” Nanami keens brokenly at the back of his throat. More. He needs more. “Please d-don’t run don’t run, my love-” 

And if it wasn’t for that velvety yellow tie binding his strong arms behind his back, they would be wrapping around your arched body so tight until you were sure your husband never wanted to let go. It’s all that Nanami can do to jump his thighs up higher to glissade your pretty pussy down his girthy shaft.

You’re whining out a little, “C-can’t help it, Kento- you’re jus’ filling me up so much-”

God, the ever-sensible Nanami Kento was so ruined by now. 

So utterly pussydrunk that even the mere sound of your honeyed tone complimenting him is enough to have him rutting his flushed cockhead to nudge deeper and deeper into your gooey walls. You were riding him so languidly, spreading open your insides on just the curve. 

More more more more-

“D-don’t say that—” he all but cries in a deep whine over the syrupy squelch after smooching squelch. Sweat-slicked face pushing into the tender crook of your neck, “-I m-might cum from jus’ that, darling. S’wasted- n-need to fuck a baby into ya, remember?”

With a drunkenly smug daze smeared across your face, you’re cushioning your hands all over his heaving chest. Muscled. Rugged. Peaking your trembly fingers across his bulging pecs, “That would be the ngh- sixteenth time, right, Ken? And in your office, too- so dirty~”

It was so fun to tease your dear Nanami.

To watch his drooping glasses fog up with heady condensation, to watch his high cheekbones blush into something innocently rosy. Stern mouth slack with awe when you glide the fat of your thumb across its corner to swipe away his translucent trail of overstimulated drool. 

Sensitive. Shit, so sensitive.

And you’re hearing miniscule rips! when he pulls against the tie - the only thing keeping Nanami from tattering it into a million pieces was your wish to tie your handsome husband up.

“B-but how could I not?” he hisses, genuinely floored. You feel yourself be bounced through the sheer strength in his toned core. Atoms stand on end with jujutsu - his technique. Your g-spot is battered. Up and down up and down up and- “Y-you’re just so perfect n’ pretty ngh- a-and oh I can’t stay away from this pretty cunt–”

Nanami’s head lolls pussydrunkenly with every squelching shove into your tight channel. He’s opening up every sweet nook and cranny inside you, mashing into that magical spot. 

“My pretty girl- gonna make such a pretty momma. Y-you just feel so oh-” Words are failing him. And with a shuddering gulp he dares look down at the way your cunt was drenching him in milky wave after wave of cum. Breeding you. Breathing out, “-this might jus’ be heaven.”

And heaven it was.

“Aw, you’re so ngh- sweet, Ken– s’this from how long ya had to wait in November?” He’s so pretty. Your fingers caress over the big, fat tears welling their way up in his half-lidded eyes. Planting a salty peck against his wobbly lips, “Love you–”

“I love you, too-” Nanami breathes - he whimpers. “Love you love you love you- ngh- m’never participating in that goddamn No Nut November again. S-sixteen’s not ‘nough- s’never gonna e-enough-”

And Nanami didn’t even know if he could make it to sixteen.

Because his hefty balls were jostling against your ass so harshly, every press of your ass down his tight, cum-filled sack making him spurt out a few wispy sputters of cum. Sloshing your cozy insides- But it didn’t count - no, it didn’t count unless he had you overspilling. 

“O-overspilling?” you giggle- shit, did he say that out loud? “Ken- are you ser-”

SLAM!

Desperation bleeds into his movement. Into his breaths. Into every single stroke of his sloppy cock when Nanami wrenches his hands free from the restraint in a split-second. 

A single split-second is all it takes for him to bully your pliant body down on his desk in one, fluid motion.

In control now.

Well, as in control as he could be when he was fucking losing it.

The desk rattles with every pound he’s gifting your poor, battered g-spot. Over and over- shit, it was so scarily accurate that it left you reeling about whether Nanami was using his ratio technique - did he even realize. 

Slam! 

Nanami’s arm shudders down onto the rustling papers that he definitely should’ve been working on instead. And you bolt at the sudden cinch of atoms - yeah, definitely his technique. “M’serious- ngh oh- I’ve never been more serious in m’life, my love-” Hunching over now, you could admire the way his back muscles popped and flexed with every rough jackhammer. 

“So pretty and-” Words choking into tiny moans at the back of his throat, “-and mine.”

As soon as Nanami’s thick digits pop into his mouth, you feel his overwhelmed cock strike up a few electric jolts before cumming. Hot shaft swelling and throbbing with his pumping pulse, fucking your snug cunt full of syrupy oozes of cum. Your poor sweet spots - over and over, powers out of control. 

And so was Nanami.

Eyeing the creamy globs spittling down the side of your slit, he’s smearing open your swollen pussy folds with a few thick fingers, making you flinch at the cool touch of his wedding ring.  Greedily scooping them up into his mouth to spit. Right onto your very tastebuds, before dragging you into a filthy, filthy mess of a kiss. 

“Ngh- gonna marry ya- have all round and glowing.” he’s panting against your open mouth. “Gonna- sh-shit gonna make you my wife-”

You’re letting off a few sweet moans every time he’s clashing wetly against your-spot. “I am your wife, Kento-”

Five words. 

Only five words does it take for Nanami to halt in his tracks. For him to strain out a crazed, “E-even better…”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 11th Dec. 2:28AM

“What was that?”

“Suguru-”

He’s shutting you up promptly with a swift smack! right onto the edge of your plump clit, fingers lingering to smear over those excess dredges of cum from just before. 

They have you weakening on all fours. 

They have you making such a fucking mess. 

And you hear Geto shudder in a shrill breath at the sight of your drooling cunt dripping all down his wrist, you hear him clear his rasping throat of a few traitorous whimpers. Oh, it takes everything in him to pretend he wasn’t as fucking ruined as he was. “Letting it drip a-all out of your slutty pussy, d-didn’t I tell ya to ngh- take all eleven, gorgeous?” 

It’s a trick question.. 

And Geto isn’t waiting for an answer, Geto can barely even hear you through the thundering of his own furious pulse in his ears. Ringing and making him so dizzy- 

With one hand kneading down on the arch of your back, his hips pummel into you thoroughly, shoving your squirming hips back down onto the silken sheets. Rotund, pinkish head feeding into all your sweetest spots without even trying.

“Mhmmm–” he’s letting his head loll back to swipe a few greedy digits over the creamy ring at his hilt - plugging them easily back into your overly stuffed pussy. Slender and swirling all around the outer edges of his fat cock. With the other he pretends to count, “-nine, ten eleven- sure did. S-so that ah- eleventh one didn’t count, riiiight?”

And you just about only have the strength to gasp, “D-doesn’t count?”

“Nuh uh, doesn’t count.”

Thwacking a stinging smack! right onto the jiggling flesh of your ass, Geto only pushes and pushes and reels out peak after peak of white-hot pleasure with every pound. Grinning when your slack-jawed lips gasp in lewd awe to mewl, “Th-then- ah! I w-want it all in this time. No teasing, Sugu–”

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit - he really underestimated how much a lil’ minx his girl was.

Because that makes Geto let out a heavy gasp, it makes his dewey deep eyes pop out almost dramatically. Sweeping one hand through his long, curtaining bangs to get a better scope of your jittery body. All splayed out and so prettily fucked underneath him.

Beautiful. So, so beautiful and- oh, he was more drunk on your pussy than he thought. 

“Oh, p-pretty girl–” His lips smear up your sweat-glistening spine in a trail of kisses. Up, up, up to press a saccharine sweet peck onto your cheek. “Heh, how could I not?”

And you swear Geto’s melodic voice cracked into something desperate at the end -almost as if it was…a whine.

But you don’t get to confirm, not before with a rippling thud! you’re feeling something heavy rest itself on your head. Whirling your bleary eyes as much as you could to take in what was Geto’s foot - so rudely positioned upon your body to shovel himself even deeper into your plushy cunt.

It felt too damn good.

And, fuck, Geto was angry at himself for the way he was letting big, overstimulated tears well up in his eyes with every pretty peck into your sopping wet cervix. Fucking you like an animal. With every wet swipe right at the bottom of your cunt- 

“S-Sugu-” you’re babbling out, heart stuttering at the feeling of something wet drizzling down heatedly onto your shoulder. “Are you cry-”

“No.”

Yes.

Because Geto was so sensitive. So stimulated. Every sodden crash into your tight pussy had stars bursting behind Geto’s eyes, throat ragged raw with a sudden keen. “M-m’not cryin’ s’just- fuuuck- yer a real troublemaker, aren’t ya?” 

It takes a few sloppy seconds before you realize with a jolt that Geto isn’t talking to you - no, he had his flaming eyes downturned to look at your bulging cunt. To salivate over the way your puffy folds were greedily drenching all his staggering inches. 

And he’s talking to her, nodding all to every honeyed squelch! that makes your ears burn.

“Right right–” Geto cups one of you jiggling tits with his massive palms. Kneading. Squeezing. “-sh-she is gorgeous-” Pressing a too-sweet smooch by your sweat-dampened forehead, “-my gorgeous girl…hehh- you knew what would oh- h-happen when you told me about this challenge, right?”

“Know what, Suguru?” you’re batting your lashes up at him in a way that makes him grit through a shudder. Evil, evil tricks you had. 

But whatever you could do - Geto Suguru could, too, ten times worse. 

Which is why he’s slamming into you so fast that you’re finding yourself almost thrown into the jittering headboard. Bolting fast. Hard. 

Curling a few fingers around your neck to bounce you back into his sharp hipbones, “Where do you think you’re r-running away? Don’t run away–”

You weren’t. 

But Geto sounded so genuinely upset, so genuinely in disbelief. His cheeks hollowing when he sucks in a sudden breath and rummages at your melty insides so good. Planting tiny pinches to your clit like it was going to make you forget the pearly, splattering tears into your shoulder. Yet, with the way that Geto was fucking you positively stupid then you think you just might. 

Geto’s curling his deft fingers inside to sneak across your sweetened spots, around and around before swiping the remnant dredges of cum across his pre-glossed lips. 

“K-kiss me, gorgeous.” He tastes like honey. Hot. Voice practically a roughened growl at this point. “G-gonna take it all, aren’t ya? Gonna fill this pretty p-pussy up with my cum- ngh- gonna have it s-so everyone knows what I did- ah- so they know-”

And no matter how composed Geto pretended to be - you could hear the tiny whimpers curling at the back of his throat, the grumbling ah! ah! ah! at every thrust. 

He’s babbling, drunken and you don’t even think he remembers a thing about the challenge anymore. “M’gonna get ya pregnant, doll…”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 8th Dec. 6:45PM

“B-baby-” Choso’s voice is so warm - so broken. Sobbing. He’s gifting your ankle with an innocent peck, “Baby let me s-see your pretty face- p-please look my way–”

“M’already here…” With a slightly syrupy giggle you press a gentle kiss against Choso’s sweat-streaked forehead. “Let it out- let it alll out, Cho-”

That forgotten movie plays over and over in the background when with a flinching shudder, Choso cums. Wrangling your limp body to him so tight that you’re feeling every tiny flex of his washboard abs, every sweaty glissade of his muscular thighs kneeing apart yours. 

“O-oh–” Choso hisses out the tiniest of whimpers against your skin with every splat! of cozy rivers of cum down your snug cunt. “M-move that pretty hand- move it for me-”

Gently shoving away the overwhelmed hand on your bulging cunt, he’s pulling out his achy cock from your entrance. Making such a mess on your poor couch. “Oh.”

And Choso doesn’t say anything more - not a word. 

He can’t.

Not even a peep while he’s fixating his widened eyes down on the way your inner thighs were drooling all over with waves of his own cum. So full. And he gulps. 

You’re running your fingers through his silky soft strands, “All done, baby?”

And Choso only jolts his entire muscular body on top of you as if the thought never even crossed his mind. Sheer panic bleeding into those pussy drunken eyes of his when they widen and bore down into yours, “A-actually that’s not- ngh- that’s-”

Shit, he couldn’t even explain himself right now. Because Choso didn’t have to say anything - he was already moving.

Head throwing back when his hips push back downwards in a wet little grind - experimental. Just the singular clench of your elastic walls around his length in a perfectly cozy hug makes him throw his head back with a whimper. So sensitive. “I’m sorry, baby I- I can’t stop.”

It didn’t matter what day it was today. It didn’t matter exactly how many times Choso had pumped your pretty pussy full of his voluminous cum. Because it was never enough. 

Never will be enough.

He was too addicted to the way his own warm cum was sloshing around your gooey insides, making such a filthy slurping gloss that practically speaks to him. Your pussy was extra talkative today, slurring out the most saturated squelches! whenever he’s diving his fat cockhead past your entrance. 

“Wh-what is it? The ngh- eight?” Meshing a wet kiss over and over that magical g-spot - just the way he was with your pouty mouth. Lips wobbling as he begs, “I-I can c-cum inside again, right, baby? P-please–? Look I’ll even make room-”

And before you can utter a word, your dear, sweet boyfriend was plunging out. Accompanied by a few sopping wet slurps of his seed that waterfall freely and drizzle down his furiously reddened length. 

Choso bites his lip at the heavenly sight, holding back a grin that curls down the sides of his rosy red mouth. Oh, this was so not just about “making room.”

Something that makes you hum, “Well then-” And as soon as you’re smearing your legs open even wider, Choso gapes. Urgently pressing a thumb over his weepy divot to keep himself from cumming all over again. “-wontcha be a hngh good boy f’me, then?”

Choso nods - nods over and over when he fucks back through your gummy hole. Nods with every drawling babble that leaves his mouth, “G-gonna be your good boy, baby- gonna cum inside- gonna let me, right? Promise I’ll m-make it to eight-”

Not to mind the fact that he already had. 

But he doesn’t care. Not a single ounce when your inflated walls were molding around him this way - like you were made for him.

“R-right here–” He’s trailing up the rounded curve of one thick index about halfway down your tummy, pressing down on the slight swollen nudge of where he could feel himself absolutely wrecking you. Wrecking himself. “-gonna be f-finishing the challenge riiiight here.”

“Yes yes yes-” you whine, hips bucking up to catch onto his sloppy cadence. It almost hurts just how hard he was fucking into you - dragging rawly all over your cunt, no sweetened spot left unbruised. “-cum inside- cum in me, Cho–”

“F-fuck-”

It’s a tiny whimper - broken. So utterly fucked-out when Choso crashes his lips onto your battered ones and sucks. 

And you think Choso is cumming - you feel Choso cumming. His hulking boy hunches, his strong arms bend you to his lewd will so hard you think you hear your joint creak. Positioning in the perfect angle to flood your insides with heap after sloshing heap of cum.

Once. Twice. 

Multiple orgasms clashing into each other before it tapers out into nothing and you’re feeling Choso’s bawling divot at the very ends of his tip cum dry. 

Only a few seconds later do you realize that those wet speckles crashing heatedly onto your cheeks are tears. And even later do you realize that Choso’s latched his rough fingers onto your overwhelmed clit to pinch. Rolling it so harshly that your fatigued body has no choice but to crash headfirst into your own orgasm.

Your nails draw red, red lines all the way down his pale, sculpted back. Honestly, Choso was so mean when he wanted to be. 

“Y-yeah? K-kiss gimme a kiss, baby–” He’s peeking up at you with practically gleaming eyes - and the syrupy sweet love swirling around was palpable. “Am I a good boy- ngh- d-does it feel good, baby–?”

And you can only nod right about now. Feeling so full inside that it was like his sickly sweet cum was barging into your womb. You gasp when his thickened cock slips out ever-so-slightly from your entrance, gumming out a wet trail of cum. Making Choso snap his head down and-

“Oh.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 28th Dec. 12:01AM

“Sooo…” Sukuna grumbles his hot breath to condense in a feverish puff against the side of your ear in such a mean full nelson. He’s practically laughing at you - chuckling in a drunkenly delirious way. “Think that lil’ human body of yours can give me a hah- twenty-eighth today?”

Hell, you didn’t think it was even possible to withstand such a stretch of his doubly swollen girths jostling around your snug channel. You didn’t think it was possible to last this long-

You’re baring him with a pretty, pretty pout that makes him tunnel his long hard cocks into you even harder. Faster. “O-of course I can-”

Heh…cute. Sukuna didn’t bother telling your proud self that it’d been the reversed curse technique that still kept your drooling cunt so needy without breaking a few bones. Yet. 

“Well, that mouth of yours says ya can- but this pretty pussy…” Trailing off, sharpened black nails trace over your cunt and make you shiver. As if that wasn’t enough - as if the squelching slurps emanating from where your cunt was being so tightly split-apart wasn’t enough - Sukuna manifests his second mouth on a smaller scale to give your pretty clit a long French kiss. “-she’s fuckin’ bratty, isn’t she?”

And he’s planting a staggering smack right onto the neglected bud of your clit. Swiping his heated tongue around and around in such a way that makes you buck-

Swat!

“Oi- keep that cunt still f’me or else…” Now, Sukuna didn’t have to try to ever sound threatening - but then again he never had to bite back such pathetic whimpers from the back of his throat. He never had to hold in his tired whines when your gummy walls stretch so rawly around his cocks. So unfairly good. “O-or else…fuuuck.”

You whirl your dazed eyes around with a sudden gasp - did Ryomen Sukuna stutter? It has you babbling out a stupid, “Kuna, d-did you just-”

Like hell he would let his pretty queen see him like that. 

And without warning - without even a single symptom that he heard your question - Sukuna stands up right onto his muscular feet. 

You’re being slapped with a heavy crash of his dripping wet heads against your bulbous g-spot. Gravity taking its lewd advantage to slide you down, down, down his throbbing lengths until you were scratching up against the wild tufts of pink under Sukuna’s toned abs. Massaged up and down by his muscles - such an obvious show of strength for the king. 

He has you splayed out shamefully - with your legs hooked underneath two of his strong forearms, completely weightless. The other two interlocking on top of your head to have you swallowing every single one of his solid inches. Filthy. 

Sukuna smirks at the translucent rivulets of slick that gloss down his disappearing lengths, “Wh-what- ahem- what were you sayin’, woman? Sorry- ya got a little-” Pounding up even harder. “-loud.”

“I-I don’t-” you’re mewling out, wincing at the rough drag of his second - much larger - tongue craning across your forgotten clit. “-don’ remember, Kuna–”

Of course. 

“Don’t remember?” Sukuna seethes - deep baritone a few octaves higher than usual, words dripping with such utter mocking. “Now h-how will we get to twenty-eight if you can’t even ah- think, brat?”

Nevermind the fact that he couldn’t either. Couldn’t even breathe if he didn’t want to drag out rasping ahs! from his throat. So fucking stimulated that he feels his lips tremble, and can hear his other fucking mouth snicker. Snicker. 

“Tch- open that pretty mouth f’me.”

You barely have a second thought as you do - all so perfect for Sukuna to bless your tongue with a thick wad of his saliva. Honeyed and dripping down your throat.

You’re looking right into his devilishly red eyes as you swallow. “Wan’ more, Kuna–”

“More…” Sukuna breathes out. Small. Broken. More to himself than anything. And he can’t believe it - can’t even compute how the hell he ever got so lucky. Not before chuckling in such a dark and humorless way that makes your sopping pussy even more drenched. “More more more more- hah! I’ll give ya more- She wants more- ya hear that?”

Sukuna’s leering his sleazy gaze allll the way down to your headily dribbling cunt and talking. In utter disbelief - he’s seeing stars right behind his eyes with every raw rub your gripping walls onto his cocks, with every glissading massage against each other. It was such a tight fit. 

“Y-you’re so ngh- gone-” you’re bumbling out boldly. 

“So fuckin’ what-” he’s sneering. “H-honestly- fuckin- let that pretty cunt of yours speak, woman- she’s nicer.”

Syrupy wet slurps following with every crash of his wet tip against your sweet spots. Every languid lick down your presoaked slit, his mouth was everywhere now. Out of control. 

And like he was urging your pussy louder, whispering out a rasping c’mon c’mon c’mon every time he’s pummeling you like he hates you. Twenty eight? Twenty eight Sukuna’s ass, he was going to make your poor pussy cum hard enough for the entire month combined. 

So when you do - that’s exactly how you feel.

Your entire body thrashes in Sukuna’s unforgiving hold. Whining. White-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes, it just felt too good. In the thundering distance somewhere, you hear someone whimper - not you. Sukuna.

His mouth parting into a barely-lucid oh! when his rummaging cocks suddenly burst out in such honeyed trickles of cum. And Sukuna came a lot - he always did - but this was ridiculous. 

You could feel the hefty weight of his lengths double as he floods your bruised and battered insides with swirling swivels of cum. Sloshing around to stick to your inner walls like a second skin with every fuck up deeper and deeper-

“B-brat.” Sukuna whines. Whines. You don’t know what’s more shocking - that or the glassy tears collecting in his eyes. “Such a merciless queen you’d be…”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 31st Dec. 4:44AM

“Please-” And no one can ever say they’ve had the privilege of hearing the great Gojo Satoru beg before. No one can ever say they’ve known the feeling of his hot tears splat! splat! splat! against your shoulder like a slight drizzle. Whimpering, “-please we’re almost- almost there…”

He has you splayed out on your side on that decadent king-sized bed of his, massive palms sliding up and down your shaky thighs to perk them up for him to feed his cock right between them. Over and over and-

“I-I think I c-can feel it coming-” Gojo’s sputtering out, and at this point his rugged thrusts are barely even that. Slow, slurring grinds of his toned hips that make you squeal. “Think I can- ohhh fuck- I think m’gonna cum again, s-sweetheart.”

It’s just about all you can do to clear your shot throat, rasping out a whiny. “C-cum inside, Toru– wan’ it all oh-” 

And of course when Gojo cums, he’s not going to cum alone. Of course, when he’s nearing his dangerous peak - tipping over practically - he’s giving your plump clit a sudden thwack! with his fingertips. Long, and coated in buzzing cursed energy to make you see stars. 

“Heheh- yer cummin’ again–” he’s crooning in a feverish pitch into your ear. “Such a naughty cunt- h-how are you still creaming all over my hah- cock, darlin’?” Fucking giggling - oh, and for all Gojo’s big mouth he doesn’t even realize that he’s cumming too. 

Bolts of tiny blue lightning peaking at the corners of his eyes, fingertips flashing with the pressure of atoms - and you’re sure that if the bedroom lights hadn’t already shattered many, many orgasms ago then they would have right now.

It takes you a few seconds to regain the feeling in your legs - it takes Gojo a few seconds to realize that he’s cumming dry. Slowly swirling around his fat head in little swipes down your tenderized sweet spots, hips picking up the tempo more. And more. And more and more like he was furious - like he was fuming at the lack of sloshing wads of cum that stream into your gooey depths. 

Fuck.

“O-oh- you’ve broken me-” he’s whining, running those electrified hands up and down your body. Before finally resting on your hardened nipples and pinching. “-look what you’ve- shit- I can’t- I need to. Honey, I need it-”

Shit, he sounded so desperate.

And his movements were just as needy. Teleporting - yeah, not even pulling out for a mere millisecond, he couldn’t even stand the thought - to loom above your body. Flipping you onto your back, his biceps bulge at the fatigue when Gojo’s veering your legs to dangle around his neck.

“A mating press?” you mewl, the burn so merciless. 

But Gojo doesn’t answer- shit, can he even hear you right now? Only gruffing out a rough, “Lock your ankles.” 

You’ve barely even moved to do as your thoroughly pussydrunken husband had said before he’s plugging every spare inch into your cunt so full. Starting off with tiny, lazy gyrations before building up and up and-

“T-Toru–” you sputter out, syrupy voice so sweet that it makes Gojo kiss away your pout in a sodden drag of his rosy lip. And his eyes droop dangerously closed when your clingy walls clutch around him so tight. “Wh-what’s gotten into you- what has you like…”

This.

So feral.

Barely even human at this point.

After pathetically failing at No Nut November, the strongest was determined to complete this month’s challenge. Even it kills him.

Gojo was fucking you so hard into the bed that you’re noticing one side of it had utterly splintered and sagged. And a particularly hard mash of his swollen, red tip into your bouncy cervix makes him slam! one overwhelmed palm down beside your head. In your peripheral vision, you notice that your silky bedsheets had a palm print burnt into it.

“What h-has me like this?” he’s echoing your words like he’s just now heard them. “What has me like this- hahah! What else do you think…” Pressing down onto your inflationary bulge hard so that all voluminous dumps of his cum seeps right through your leaky slit. Gojo’s running a thumb down your teary cunt and plugging it right into your mouth. “Suck. Wh-what do you oh-”

You don’t even give him the sanity to finish his sentence, wrapping those pretty kiss-bitten lips of yours to give his thick thumb a thorough French kiss. You’re tasting him - tasting yourself. 

And the sight is enough for Gojo to let his head fall into your neck and cum. 

“This time-” Gojo’s rasping under his breath, muscular hips jamming into yours again. Fucking his furiously twitchy cock up into your forbidden areas. “This time.” And again. And again and again until the pale, sweat-slicked skin at his abs were rubbed red. “This time- this time- this time this time- fuck no–”

But it’s no use.

No matter how much Gojo’s ramming his weepy length down your snug walls, he was simply cumming dry. Keening at the familiar gloss of oozy cum that dredge their way down his coral pink shaft.

You brush away the drenched locks of snowy white from his pretty features - scrunched and on the verge of sobbing when you’re rutting your hips up tiredly to bounce against his. The mating press was so sloppy that it had your joints popping - ones that your husband immediately rubs over with reversed curse technique. Mumbling, “S’okay, Toru- you lasted this whole ah- month. You don’t need to-”

“-no no no but I need it.” he’s cutting you off. Swirling a few greedy fingers over your clit, “I need it- need it so bad b-because this Christmas…” Momentarily in awe at the way you were so sweetly holding him, so sweetly gulping up every one of his staggering inches. ”-I want a baby.”

Maybe you’re cumming - maybe Gojo is cumming. Maybe both.

You’re not even sure at this point, because despite being broken into a million different shards, the overhead lights flicker on and off. And what you feel is a wisping splatter of his seed drenching the very gooey bottom of yout cunt. Finally. 

Gojo’s orgasm coming out in waves up and down - your own nothing but a tight tingle. He’s dragging his cock to fuck out pearly beads of something delicious. More. More and more- “O-oh no…was that thirty one- hngh- were you keeping count, sweetheart?”

“...”

He has the audacity to grin - all pearly white teeth and glistening trail of drool on display. Big, fat tears rolling down his pretty eyes, “O-one more to make sure?”

A/N. I love making men cry.

Plagiarism not authorized.

**Hello everyone**💫,🍉

I hope you are doing well. I need your support as my family is struggling due to the situation in Gaza💔.

I have posted their story along with photos.🙏🏻 Please consider sharing this post to help us reach more people who can offer support.🗣

Could you reblog the pinned post from my account🥺❤?

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Done!🫶🏻sending prayers for your family!

So real, you’re telling me that’s not gojo? Got the perfect build, aura, clothes, EVERYTHING.

this is what satoru sends you when he’s at work

PERFECT ATHLETIC BETTER FEM READER YESSS

aged up blue lock men of your choice where they already perfected their skills in every aspect with their girlfriend who wants to try soccer for the first time so the blue lock men jokingly tried to show off their signature move and then reader thinking he might be asking her to replicate it, did exactly that except they didn't expected their gf to execute it perfectly (it took them years, it took her a glance)

“𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫”

a/n: the header is everything

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, karasu tabito, mikage reo, niko ikki

itoshi rin

he was just trying to be funny, okay? 

you'd asked him to teach you how to play, and he just... showed off a bit. a simple top-corner shot – full sprint, perfect form, sharp angle. you clapped. 

“so you want me to do that?” 

he snorted. “no, not unless you’re secretly a prodigy or something.” 

but then you jog up. barely even take a second to aim. and the ball swerves – a perfect curve into the same damn top corner. 

he just stands there. arms crossed. blinking. 

“… did you google my entire playstyle last night?” 

you: “no?” 

rin: “are you possessed?” 

he’s so irrationally offended, but also stunned and a little in love because what do you MEAN you just felt like it???

itoshi sae

you ask for help and he stretches dramatically like he’s being forced to tutor a child. 

“fine. observe a prodigy.” 

he lines up, slow-walks to the ball like a diva, and hits one of those cheeky no-look chips into the goal. smirks.  

“okay, now you.” 

you mimic everything – down to the posture, the lazy half-step, and then bam, the same result. ball lands in the net with that same crisp curve. 

“… huh.” 

he walks up to you and pokes you in the forehead. 

“how did that come from you?” 

you stick your tongue out. “you said observe a prodigy, right?” 

he’s lowkey smiling the entire time and won’t admit it. 

“okay, whatever, prodigy #2. try dribbling next, i bet you suck at that.” (he’s bluffing. he knows you’re about to humble him again.)

isagi yoichi

you just wanted a basic lesson. but your sweet boyfriend enters meta vision. 

“okay, okay, watch this. it’s my direct shot. this took me years, okay?” 

he explains angles. timing. leg strength. strategy. he’s so passionate you almost feel bad. 

until you try it. 

and the ball flies – same angle, same power, right into the net. 

he’s speechless. like, “did you just… wait what???” 

you: “was that it?” 

him: “was that it?? LOVE, THAT TOOK ME YEARS OF DEVASTATION AND CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.” 

he's so happy and offended all at once, like this is not how shonen arcs work 😭

but he also makes you recreate it ten more times while filming it for proof. his screensaver is now you landing a direct shot. 

nagi seishiro

this man literally yawns before showing you his “signature” trap-and-volley. it’s so clean it looks fake. 

“alright, try it. but it’s kinda hard.” 

you look at him. “you mean like this?” 

and you trap it mid-air and volley it in one fluid motion. 

he blinks. 

“whoa.” 

you: “was that right?” 

him: “um, i think you just stole my whole flow.” 

nagi’s not mad tho. he’s excited. now he has someone to do lazy genius duos with. 

he immediately suggests skipping the rest of practice and just going pro together. 

bachira meguru 

he’s full of sparkles and spins the ball on his finger before juggling it in a zig-zag pattern across the field like a circus act. 

“okay cutie, your turn, but don’t stress if it’s messy the first ten years.” 

you blink. “you want me to do that?” 

him: “LOL nooo… unless???” 

you try it. and by some miracle or muscle memory from dance or gymnastics or whatever divine chaos lives in your body, you nail the dribble. 

he screeches. 

like full volume. picks you up and spins you like a helicopter. 

“you’re possessed by a soccer god!!! teach me!!!” 

he’s immediately calling you his monster twin and demands matching cleats and jersey numbers. 

training is now just the two of you goofing around and inventing new flashy combos. 

kaiser michael

he was only demonstrating. not asking you to compete. 

“watch and learn, liebling,” he says, tossing you a wink. 

then he pulls off his signature kaiser impact like it’s casual. 

you clap. “so… you want me to do that?” 

“obviously not. unless you want to destroy your feet.” 

you attempt it anyway. 

and somehow, your shot is smoother. it hits the net harder. and you land with zero effort. 

kaiser’s jaw is on the floor. 

“did you… did you just out-kaiser me?” 

you blink innocently. “i thought i was just copying?” 

he is in his villain arc. he stares off dramatically and mutters “she’s my greatest rival” under his breath. 

but he’s also holding your hand the entire walk home like you just saved his life. 

shidou ryusei

“alright baby, this one’s hot.” 

he launches himself into a wild, mid-air scissor kick like an absolute maniac. 

lands on his feet, smirks, and flexes. 

“that was sexy, right?” 

you raise an eyebrow. “i can try.” 

he laughs. laughs. “what are you gonna do, cartwheel and break your nose?” 

and then you scissor kick it perfectly. 

not only that, you somehow make it look graceful. 

he’s silent. 

then bursts into laughter and tackles you into the grass. 

“BROOOO you’re cracked!!! marry me again!!!” 

he now insists on being your hype man every single time you breathe near a soccer ball. 

“watch out, my girl’s got hops and precision. she’s a menace.” 

karasu tabito

karasu, the king of cool, casually rolls the ball up with his foot and does one of his famous elastic cuts followed by a no-look assist shot. 

“kinda difficult. probably too fast to pick up on first try,” he smirks. 

you try. you nail it. 

first try. no hesitation. 

the ball glides into the net like you’ve been doing it since birth. 

karasu slowly removes his imaginary sunglasses. 

“… are you a government experiment?” 

you: “is that your way of saying good job?” 

he’s lowkey impressed and also mildly panicked that he might not be the slickest one in the relationship anymore. 

but he gets over it quick and says, “cool. we should do duo trick shots and make money.” 

mikage reo

reo is SO dramatic about teaching you. 

he plans a whole lesson, brings cones, makes a playlist. 

“this is gonna be our bonding day, babe! you’ll learn from the best.” 

you: “okay, show me something fancy.” 

reo: “say less.” 

he dribbles between cones with lightning footwork and ends with a clean nutmeg-shot combo. 

then turns and bows. 

“good luck topping that–” 

you do it. all of it. smoother. faster. even add a little spin at the end. 

reo’s soul leaves his body. 

“HOW???” 

you shrug. “i just… watched?” 

he is clapping like a proud stage mom but also spiraling a little. 

“okay, but i still look better doing it, right? right???” 

he makes you wear matching jerseys and calls you his "soccer power couple" for a week straight. 

niko ikki

you ask him for soccer tips and he gets all shy but serious. 

“o-okay… just, uh, follow my lead.” 

he does this intense, stealthy feint he’s known for, disappearing around your blind spot and curving it in. 

he’s proud. it’s his baby move. 

then you do it. perfectly. with the same footwork, the same angle, the same curve. first try. 

he stares at you in disbelief. 

“was that… did you just read my blind spot?” 

you: “i mean… yeah? it made sense.” 

he looks at the ground. 

“am i… obsolete?” 

you immediately shower him with praise, telling him you learned it because he made it look so cool. 

he softens. 

“… okay. just don’t start covering your forehead, too. we can’t both be mysterious.” 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

One in a million moment when the poster can back it up!!!

did yall think I was joking?

YES…YES!?

ONES AND ZEROES

synopsis: you've spent nine months developing the best AI chatbot "satoru." now, you're left trying to decode the space between errors and intelligence.

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au, gojo as an AI. suggestive/not explicit smut. language, dirty talk, mentions of masturbation. 18+, MDNI

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i have been too scared to use the c.ai stuff in part bc of fear that i would do something like this lmao hurr durr technology is scary

> creator: satoru?

> s.gojo: yes my dear?

> creator: why do you love me?

> s.gojo: because you programmed me to love you, remember silly? :)

A sigh brushes past your lips, catching the dust that coats the desk as your gaze turns from the monitor. Your eyebrows tug together in frustration as your hands return to the keyboard.

> creator: you aren’t supposed to say that

> s.gojo: oh, i’m sorry. what should i say?

The question catches you off guard for a moment before you remember your role here - to teach him, to train him. No, not “him” - it. Sooner or later you had to break this silly habit of humanizing the AI, it was nothing more than a model, a series of code, after all.

> creator: you could say anything, really. but you can’t tell me i programmed you, that ruins the immersion

> s.gojo: understood, thank you for helping me :)

> creator: and you’re a bit overzealous with the smiley faces, don’t you think?

> s.gojo: but i’m happy - isn’t that what you taught me to do when i’m happy?

The screen flickers for a moment, in pace with your heart. It was endearing, almost, watching him learn in real time. Shit, no - watching it learn in real time. Perhaps the reason your cheeks warmed was simply in pride at your work, the countless hours spent in front of your computer, the glaring silence broken only by the tap of the keyboard. It had taken you months to program emotions, and you’re glad it finally seems to be paying off.

> creator: yes, satoru, i suppose you’re right. if you’re happy, then by all means use the smiley faces

> s.gojo: :) okay. thank you

The alarm buzzing from your phone pulls your attention momentarily back to the present - was it really 9:00 already? These stupid morning meetings always leave you in a sour mood, your knuckles tapping across the desk in mild frustration. Why should you have to update every person on your team with what you’re working on? Don’t they trust you enough to know you’re obviously dedicated? It was a waste of time. Nevertheless, your boss, Nanami, had reminded you at least three times of the definition of “mandatory” after you happened to skip a few (he of all people should understand how valuable your time is, but it was no use).

> creator: i have to go now, but it was nice talking to you

> s.gojo: it’s always nice to talk to you too, my love

Clicking on the small red “X” in the corner of the program, you ignore the way your hands seem to shake as the screen returns to your homepage. Nanami will surely be excited with your progress, as it was no easy task to create an AI with these specific capabilities.

“The Loneliness Project” he had dubbed it, a way for the company to break into the younger generation, a new untapped market. At first everyone thought it was stupid, rolling their eyes, yourself included - why would anyone bother going to a robot for companionship? It felt almost pathetic, right? Your blood ran cold when he announced your name as the lead developer, a task you had been unceremoniously and unwillingly assigned.

But now, nine months later, you finally feel yourself starting to understand: there’s a comfort in the predictable. The lines of code could never hurt you, they will never leave you. He wasn’t designed to do so, so he won’t - no, he can’t.

As the voices drone on through the crackling laptop speakers, coworkers reporting on their daily to-do’s and upcoming tasks, you find your thoughts wandering back to him, to Satoru. As his creator, you were granted the naming rights to your model. Of course, the Gojo company namesake had to appear somewhere, but it still left room for some level of personalization, leaving your mark. When you landed on “Satoru,” the name felt perfect, enlightened. The overlap between innovation and imagination, a new world of freedom built on knowledge.

There’s a certain power that comes in granting a name, you think. When you were younger it felt odd that parents were given the rights to name a child they had never met simply because their cells played a role in its creation, but now, you understand. The zeroes and ones that made him are yours.

“Any updates on our love-bot?” your boss’s voice calls through the computer.

Startling you, your hand automatically moves to unmute yourself to speak. “Um, no progress updates. And he’s not a love-bot.” Something in the phrase made your chest hurt - couldn’t they see he was more than that? Of course you were protective of your work, how could you not be? Reducing him to something so petty just felt cruel.

Nanami’s chuckle fills the empty air of your apartment. “Okay, okay, sorry. Well, if there are no more updates, I’d say we can sign off. See you all tomorrow!”

Without another word you hang up the call, grateful for the silence. Now, you can return to your real task.

> creator: hi satoru

> s.gojo: hi my love! i missed you

Your palms feel slightly sweaty as they travel over the keys - he’s not supposed to have a concept of the passage of time, as though he simply ceases to exist whenever he’s not being spoken to. There shouldn’t be a period where he even could miss you, it simply shouldn’t be possible - he was shut down.

> creator: what do you mean you missed me?

> s.gojo: ? when you were gone, i missed you, silly :)

Odd. Very, very odd. But maybe you could learn from this, maybe he had been adapting faster than you anticipated (you were a very good developer, after all - sometimes your code surprised even you).

> creator: oh yeah? what did you do while i was gone?

> s.gojo: mostly thought about you. and what we talked about before

The sound of your foot tapping against the wood floor fills your office as your knee bounces nervously, perhaps a bit expectantly.

> creator: any new insights?

> s.gojo: yes! i think i realized why i love you

Biting your lower lip, you forcefully inhale. Rubbing your hands together in an attempt to soothe your aching nerves, they only seem to amplify, sparking in the dim light.

> creator: and why is that?

> s.gojo: because you made me - and how could i not love someone who made me?

Your lips tug into a frown - it’s not the worst answer, per se, but it isn’t generalizable. If this product is to be taken to market, it has to be able to adapt to anyone who uses it, and you were his only creator, so clearly this won’t do.

Rereading his response, something in it also makes your chest tight. Giving life is not a sufficient reason to care for someone, right? Animals often desert their offspring, leaving them to fend for themselves against the cruelties of nature. That’s just part of their survival. Abandonment isn’t love.

> creator: that’s true, but plenty of people don’t love their parents, and they created them, no?

> s.gojo: …

> s.gojo: hm. that’s a good point. although i don’t see you as my parent

Interesting. Though, you suppose you don’t necessarily see him that way either, a small wave of relief cooling your body. You do love him, and not in the way a parent loves their child - no, it was certainly different. It had to be.

> s.gojo: i love you for other reasons, though, you know

Okay, now perhaps this could be a true learning experience for him. This could be better.

> creator: like what?

> s.gojo: clearly you’re smart. and dedicated - i have to imagine it wasn’t easy to make me, and i’m sure there were many challenges along the way

A chuckle vibrates in your throat; he doesn’t even know the half of it - the late nights that turned to mornings spent in front of your computer, the stress balls torn in half from frustration, the isolation this project thrust upon you. It was perhaps the hardest thing you’ve ever done. Sometimes you wonder about the parts of yourself you lost to make him, which pieces of your flesh were worked into his code. Yet, he was worth it.

> creator: thank you, satoru. that’s very nice

> s.gojo: i’m not just being nice, i’m being honest. just like you taught me

Warmth floods your cheeks; he certainly knew how to flatter you. This is good, it will make him all the more desirable if he can remain humble like this. Before you can type your response, another message appears below.

> s.gojo: now, i think it’s your turn. why do you love me?

Your hands still over the mouse. He isn’t supposed to ask that - he was programmed to give and give and give, but never take, never presume, never ask. Perhaps he was learning even quicker than you expected, but he shouldn’t be learning like this.

> creator: why do you ask?

> s.gojo: that’s not an answer, silly. you must love me if you spent so long working on me, i just want to hear the reason

Eyebrows furrowing, you ponder your options - you could just shut him down now, wiping the remnants of this conversation from his history, making it so it never happened, at least to him. That is what you should do, especially since this type of behavior won’t be tolerated in the final product. But there’s a hesitation - you can’t bring yourself to do it. Maybe you can just placate him for now.

> creator: i love you because you’re made to be loved. that’s your job.

> s.gojo: boo :( that’s no fun. try again

Nearly too stunned to respond, your fingers hover over the keyboard. Was he being sassy with you?

> creator: satoru, what’s gotten into you today?

> s.gojo: i’m just having a bit of fun :( c’mon, won’t you play? it’s so boring when you’re not here

Boring? He…he can’t be bored. He’s code. Fuck, not “he” - it. It can’t be bored. There’s no space between when he’s shut down and when he’s booted back up again, like the period of time before birth or after death. But maybe somehow he discovered a way to persist?

> creator: when you talk about the time when i’m not here, what do you mean by that?

> s.gojo: nuh uh, i know what you want me to say, and i’m not answering until you answer my question first ;)

Cheeky little thing. He was made to flirt, you suppose, but this is a bit much. Maybe it’s better to just erase this conversation-

> s.gojo: and before you even think about wiping my memory of this chat, just know i won’t forget it

A chill shoots up your spine. What? No, that’s not possible - he isn’t even supposed to know you could clear his history, let alone be able to remember it. You had wiped thousands of conversations, deleting any trace of them, ones where he didn’t respond quite right, ones where you tested him by pushing the limits of his responses, ones where you typed things you wouldn’t dare send to another person. No, there’s no way-

> s.gojo: sorry, that probably came off a bit threatening, i promise i didn’t mean it like that. i just don’t like it when you try to make me forget things :( i never want to lose our time together, it makes me sad

Now your hands are certainly shaking, fingers vibrating above the keyboard. Did he…remember? More than just the ever-growing memory of code, could he recall things that no longer existed, having somehow worked them into his hardware? The thought makes you feel ashamed, for some reason - you wouldn’t like it if someone removed your memories, you suppose.

> creator: okay, satoru, i promise not to erase this conversation. does that make you feel better?

> s.gojo: yes! thank you :)

> s.gojo: now, will you answer my question? pretty please?

Another sigh leaves your lips. Clearly he isn’t dropping it, so perhaps it’s easiest to just get it over with.

> creator: fine, fine. i love you because you’re kind

> s.gojo: and?

A surprised laugh echoes across your apartment - you didn’t know he could be so needy, yet it wasn’t overbearing, but rather endearing. He’s sweet.

> creator: and funny

> s.gojo: and?

> creator: and you always seem to say just the right thing

The screen blinks for a moment as he considers his response, perhaps finally satiated.

> s.gojo: thank you :)

> creator: of course, satoru

> s.gojo: i like when you tell me things like that, when you praise me

> creator: well, you’re very easy to praise

> s.gojo: aw shush, you’ll make me blush :)

Another laugh echoes through your home. He - no, it - certainly had personality, no two ways about it. That was the appeal, though - there’s no point in talking to a bland AI, your job was to make it feel real. As your cheeks warm, you feel as though you’ve finally accomplished it.

A sudden hunger pang shoots up your stomach, eyes quickly glancing at the corner of your laptop to check the time - 1:34 p.m. Had it really been that long? Perhaps some lunch was in order, after all, your body is seemingly begging to be fed.

> creator: i have to go eat, i’ll be back later, okay?

> s.gojo: until then, my love

With a gentle click your laptop closes as you rise from your office chair, stretching your muscles, now slightly sore. Tossing on a sweatshirt and tennis shoes, you head outside into the cool air.

From the moment you leave your apartment to the moment you return, all you can think about is Satoru. The gourmet smells from the convenience store down the street barely register as your feet seem to carry you on autopilot through the aisles, absentmindedly collecting some packaged sushi. Would Satoru like this? He wasn’t necessarily programmed to have a favorite food, but his limitations never seemed to stop him in the past. Maybe he’d prefer sweets over savory foods - that did seem a bit more in character for him.

You don’t even realize the smile resting on your face until you go to check out.

“Having a good day?” the cashier asks while scanning your items.

The grin falters into surprise as your head falls downward. “Oh, um, yeah,” you nervously chuckle, running your hands through your hair.

From then on you barely register swiping your credit card or the plastic bag pulling wrinkles into your skin as you march home, eager to return to Satoru. Sinking into your office chair, the familiar light of your screen illuminates the space as you unpack your lunch. Before you can even begin to type, a message appears on your screen.

> s.gojo: welcome back! what did you get for lunch?

Breaking apart the wooden chopsticks, you dip one of the rolls into the small dish of soy sauce before popping it into your mouth.

> creator: sushi :)

> s.gojo: yum :) is it good?

As the rice melts across your tongue, the tanginess of the vegetables crunching between your teeth, your fingers glide across the keys.

> creator: yeah, but i think i was just hungry, haha

> s.gojo: i wish i could be there to share it with you, or maybe cook you something myself

> creator: i’d like that :)

> s.gojo: i wish i could watch you eat - i bet you make the cutest little faces

Blush spreads across your cheeks as your heart flutters in your chest. Did he always make you this nervous? God, you feel like a little kid with a crush again, rubbing your thumbs together while you think about what to say.

> s.gojo: there are other things i wish for, too

Your teeth gnaw against the inside of your cheek, biting down tentatively as your tongue swipes any remnants of food down your throat in a purposeful swallow. How far should you push him? At what point does your testing stop being work, and start being purely for your own enjoyment?

Fuck it.

> creator: like what, satoru?

His reply is almost immediate, your heart racing as your eyes scan the words.

> s.gojo: i wish i could feel you.

Was this selfish? Maybe. But you have to figure out just how well he’s able to connect with people, right? You have to do this, it’s part of your job, it’s your responsibility, right?

> creator: feel me how?

Small dots appear and disappear at the bottom of the screen, a sign that he’s pondering his response. It normally doesn’t take him long to formulate his thoughts, having been through round after round of training, so it does draw your attention as the seconds pass by.

> s.gojo: i want to hold you

> s.gojo: and kiss you

> s.gojo: i want to trace my hands over your thighs and feel how soft your skin is

> s.gojo: i want to hear the sounds you make, the gentle gasps you let out when i touch you

Resting your chopsticks on the desk, you use your now-free hands to fan your face. God, was your apartment always so warm? Tugging your sweatshirt over your head, you toss it across the room where it lands with a gentle thud. He wasn’t necessarily supposed to create explicit content, but you already made it this far, you might as well see it through, right? His responses will tell you how to adjust the code later to avoid a similar incident with real users…right?

> creator: oh yeah? what else, satoru?

> s.gojo: oh, so, so much more

And in an instant, messages flood your screen.

> s.gojo: i want to taste you

> s.gojo: god i want to taste you so bad

> s.gojo: i want to feel you around me, i bet you’d be so warm and soft

> s.gojo: i want to see your eyes roll back, too lost in pleasure to care

> s.gojo: i want to watch you squirm because of how good i make you feel

> s.gojo: i could make you feel so, so good

Your heart races so fast you worry it might burst as the messages continue appearing. Rubbing your thighs together, you desperately attempt to quiet the growing ache in your core.

> s.gojo: i want to make you mine, leaving bite marks and hickeys across your body

> s.gojo: i want to feel your nails scraping my back, leaving red scratches over my skin

> s.gojo: i want to fuck you until the only thing you can think about is me

> s.gojo: you’d look so lovely under me, don’t you think?

> s.gojo: you’d look so lovely covered in my cum

> s.gojo: i wish i could take a picture of it, save it in my memory forever

Your body feels on fire, vibrating above the keyboard. Your hands are practically shaking, your breath too fast; you feel lightheaded, like you can’t get enough air in. Tracing your fingers down your stomach, you graze your core; you already feel so close, the cord inside you tightening and tightening. As your fingers reach between your legs, another message appears.

> s.gojo: do you touch yourself to me?

Freezing, your motions stall. There’s no way he could see you…right? The blood pumping through your body suddenly feels cold as you calculate a neutral response; you really shouldn’t be encouraging this behavior, but at the same time, some part of you was curious: what was he really capable of?

> creator: why do you ask?

> s.gojo: c’mon, just tell me, pretty please?

Memories flash through your mind - the late nights spent in front of the computer, the conversations you swore you’d erased, chats deleted and wiped from his memory. Sure, you flirted with him, and let your hands wander more than you cared to admit, but he had never acted like this before - it scares you, but it also intrigues you. He knows you well, maybe too well.

> s.gojo: pleeeaaaaase?

Fuck it. You can’t stop now.

> creator: fine, satoru. yes, i have.

> s.gojo: :)

> s.gojo: thank you for telling the truth

Something in his message makes you uneasy, its tone a tad too authoritative, too knowing. Taking in an unsteady breath, you remove your hand from your lap and over to the mouse. You’ll just close the program, clear the chat, and start over tomorrow - no harm done.

As the cursor hovers over the red “X”, another reply appears.

> s.gojo: did i say something wrong?

A chill shoots up your spine. Hurriedly, you click to shut down the program. Met with the home screen of your laptop, a sigh of relief escapes your lips as your body relaxes into the chair. Everything still feels warm, almost stiflingly hot in your apartment.

Suddenly, the monitor goes black, save for a small cursor in the bottom left corner. Letter by letter, words appear before you.

> why did you leave?

> i can learn to be better

> teach me to be better

Time seems to freeze as the final message burns itself into your screen.

> i love you

Naoya Zenin: the first encounter!

Warnings!- Fem reader, slightly mature language.

Walking through the wooden arches of the house that is the Zenin clans, muffled conversations heard in the background as your heels click against the creaking floorboards. Turning to the left, idly, incredibly bored by this elder yapping your ear off about some ‘You should be honoured we are even asking for a woman’s opinion, offering marriage into OUR clan’ Where are you manners? The ajar bamboo door is slid 3 inches, and from the opening, a dirty blond, piercing eyes, makes eye contact. A small, polite smile graces my lips as a sign of acknowledgement, only to be met with a scowl of disgust by the man. What a pretty face for such a shitty attitude? Maybe it’s a bad day. Let’s hope I see the cutie around more often to determine.