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mogolgogol · 29 days

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Im back, but listen hdhskkssk ITS NOT FAIRRRRRRRR especially bc when i first re found ur blog, i was suuuuper into ur yuuji stuff, i personally cant do poly bc im possessive AS FUCK so even tho i know ur suku x ura poly was extremely popular i never read it, and i think i rmb one thing u wrote with him and bloody knuckles getting head but LISTEN, kuna was never on my radar like that but this!!!!! What did u do to meeeeeee. I really loved the yuuji x mean reader where she was a sadist kinda and then yuuji would like tlk down to her and i loved ur 'kuna taking over yuuji' fics but this new one......you made it too unfair like yuuji is just a boy but kuna is all MAN omgggg and i try to steer clear of romance routes in this bc sukuna is a SLUT but (head in hands) he would help yuuji choose a promise ring for reader and the night she comes over and yuuji gives it to her, sukuna is there in the kitchen or smth when she goes for water and reader is like 🙄 outta the way, but sukuna slides over a box with a ring in it- so tasteful and elegant, clearly fuckin expensive, and it makes the tacky little thing yuuji gave you look pathetic in comparison STOP MEEEEE SOMEONE TAKE MY PHONE AWAYYYY PLS AND HE WOULD LOOK SO SERIOUS WHEN HE GIVES IT TO YOU AHHH HE ACTS LIKE ITS JUST SEX BUT HE CANT STOP THINKING ABT U 24.7

OK OK IM DONE I NEED TO STOP THIS MADNESS NOW

choso bbg anon (gaslighting myself)

YEAHHHHHHHHHH SUKUNA FKRS RISE not you switching sides bc he talked a little mean 🤭 hehe poor choso 😭

[cws] infidelity. fem reader.

“Are you sure you like it?”

“I love it, Yuji!” You grin, stretching up to plant a sticky kiss on his cheek as you say it. “I do, really. It’s so cute.” And it is! You hold your hand out, admiring the ring encircling your finger, and an excited shriek leaves you as you give him another kiss, this one landing on his lips instead.

He kisses you back instantly, arms locking around your waist as he gently sways the two of you back and forth. You break the kiss to smile at him, and he mirrors it easily, a faint pink hue settling in his cheeks.

“I’m glad you like it - I’ve been looking at rings for the past month! I wanted to make sure it was perfect for you.” Your stomach fills with butterflies at the soft look in his eyes. “Perfect ring for my perfect girl.”

“You’re such a cornball.” You tease, hands moving to rest against his biceps. They flex underneath your touch before relaxing. “Did your last girlfriend like that corny act?”

“Dunno, I don’t bother remembering any other girls but you.”

“Great answer.”

“Yeah? Great enough for another kiss?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to ponder it, lips quirking up into an amused smile when his eyes zero in on your mouth. “I guess so…it wouldn’t be nice after you’ve gotten me this ring and took me to such a nice restaurant, after all.” His hands slip from your waist down to your ass, and a soft gasp leaves your mouth when he grips it and hauls you up against him.

“Mm,” he hums and then his mouth is on yours. You playfully nip at his bottom lip, getting a grin and a breathy chuckle in return, and he nips you back in retaliation. You let out a dramatic ‘ow’, making a show of frowning your eyebrows up, and he bumps his nose against yours. “Sorry, baby, lemme kiss it better.” He pecks at your bottom lip once, twice, and then he’s pulling it into his mouth.

Your lower back meets the kitchen counter, and just as Yuji is moving to heft you up onto it, the sound of the front door being pushed open breaks the two of you out of your spell.

Yuji sighs, lips parting from yours with a sad pop, and you laugh under your breath at his dejected look. Sukuna rounds the corner to the kitchen a second later, and his gaze moves to Yuji first before sliding over to you. You immediately avert your gaze and turn your head, cheek nestling against Yuji’s chest as you give him a gentle nudge, signaling that you’re ready to retreat back to his room.

But, of course, Sukuna has to open his mouth and halt that process.

“You two going somewhere?”

“To bed.” You quip.

“Oh, your favorite pastime.”

Your head whips around to face him, eyes narrowed and lips turned down, and he smirks as he heads to the fridge. “You’re a real asshole, Sukuna. You know that?”

“Hey.” Yuji intervenes, and you huff before pulling out of his embrace, arms moving to cross over your chest. Sukuna eyes flicker down, beer now in hand, and snag on the ring on your finger.

“You gave it to her.”

“Just today.” Yuji grins, moving behind you to loop his arms around your shoulders, his chin resting atop your head. “Gave it to her at dinner - and she does like it, you dick. I knew she would.” He loudly kisses your cheek, and Sukuna keeps his gaze on you as he raises the can of beer to his mouth and takes a slow sip. He starts at your feet, at the strappy sandals that you decided to wear today, and then he moves up your legs, the skin bare due to the skirt you wear. He looks over your shirt, the way it cuts down low into your cleavage, and you shift on your feet as goosebumps blossom on your skin.

He finally settles on your eyes, and you swallow hard, body pushing back into Yuji as he pushes into you, a telltale sign of his arousal hot and hard against your lower back.

“Looks good.” Sukuna rumbles, eyes still on yours, and you flush under his attention, skin turning hot. Yuji kisses behind your ear and your skin burns hotter. “Real good.” He breaks the gaze to look at his brother, who’s currently too engrossed in trailing kisses across your skin to pay attention to what’s being said, and then he’s gone down the hall and into his room.

You finish rubbing in the last bit of your facial moisturizer and blow out a breath, your hands reaching above your head as you stretch. There’s an ache in your lower back, courtesy of your boyfriend, and you go to rub the spot as you pull open the bathroom door, intending to go back to his bedroom.

“Oh!” You jump at the sight of Sukuna on the other side, and he crowds you back in, hands on your waist as he pushes the door closed with his foot. “Ryomen, what’re you doing?” You hiss.

“Saying hey.” He murmurs, and then he’s swooping down to smack his lips against yours. The kiss is rough and fast, and you fight to keep up as he licks into your mouth, one of his hands sliding underneath his brother’s shirt and cupping you between your thighs.

“You come?” He pulls back from the kiss, teeth biting into the fat of your cheek, and your hands move to grab his wrist.

“Yeah.”

“You wanna come again?”

“Ye—no. Ryo, stop, he’s still awake.” He kisses at his teeth, palm mashing up into your panty covered cunt, and you moan into his ear. “Ryomen.” He lets out a grunt, and with another hard kiss he’s moving his hand from between your legs and into his pocket.

“I got you something.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet.” You take a step back, not trusting either of you to keep your hands to yourself, and you tug on the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, eyes taking in the way the muscles in Sukuna’s arms flex in his muscle tee.

His hand comes out of his pocket with a little black box, and your eyebrows shoot up when you recognize the brand as the same one that Yuji had just purchased your promise ring from. “I don’t want that.”

“Don’t give a fuck, you’re taking it.”

“No.”

He stalks towards you, and you smack at his hands as he moves to grab you. “No, I don’t want it. Do you know how disrespectful that is?”

“More disrespectful than me cumming in your ass?”

You gape.

He snags ahold of your hand, and you blink as he slides a ring on your finger, placing it right above Yuji’s. You don’t want to look at it, but you do, and you gape again, a soft call of his name leaving your mouth as you raise your hand to get a better look at it.

“…it’s…” Beautiful. And it is, and it makes you feel incredibly guilty, because Yuji’s ring is cute and pretty and you do like it, but this… “I really hate you.”

“Yeah?” He grins. “You must like it then.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t, asshole.” You go to storm past him only for him to grab your bicep and tug you back. “Ryo—”

This kiss is softer, gentler, one he’s never given you, and it leaves you breathless and warm in the face when he pushes you toward the door. “Night.” He says, and you barely react when his palm makes contact with your ass. “Don’t stay up late - you’ve got an exam in the morning.”

“Huh? Oh. Okay. Goodnight.” You stand there dumbly, still stuck on the kiss along with the ring.

“Get out.” He pushes you again. “Dumbass.”

You snap out of it, giving him a nasty look as you do. “You’re the dumbass, dumbass.”

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mogolgogol · 29 days

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Just thinking about sukuna getting a thing for reader and gojo gets all worried ab his student :(

[cws] yandere behavior.

Gojo’s worrying comes from a place of possession, as much as it shames him to admit (it doesn’t shame him at all, but he knows it should, and he’s a decent enough actor to play the part). You’re his student, one that he’s put a lot of stock into, even more so than Okkotsu or Itadori.

He had found you scared and panicking when your abilities had first manifested and suddenly the monsters lurking in the dark were thrown in front of your eyes, giving you no chance to process anything. You were well past the years when sorcerers first had this awakening - a semi-functioning adult with a stuffy office job and an even stuffier apartment - and it was always a bit harder for adults to accept that monsters were, in fact, very much real and walking amongst humans.

You weren’t a particularly strong sorcerer, barely on par with another grade 4, but Gojo didn’t think many people were particularly strong anyways. There was a few in very, very rare cases, but for the most part, Gojo saw them all as potential liabilities when it came down to a tough fight - he’d rather have them out of his way so he could go all out.

He had gotten you assigned under his care, showing you the ropes of this new world that terrified you so, and you had learned quite a bit so far. Not enough that would grant you the confidence to venture out on your own and away from him (because why would he willingly let a scared, clingy thing like you go that easily?), but enough so he wouldn’t have to worry about someone having to scrape your insides off the ground with a shovel.

You were well under his thumb when Itadori came into the picture, snug and comfortable no matter how much he mushed and mushed. When he told you to do something, you did, no matter if it was a request to fetch him a drink, or something more…intimate.

Itadori was no threat, of course, a teen who was too dumb and pure for the position he had out himself in, but Sukuna, that damned curse, was something close to it.

He liked you, craved you, wanted for you in the same way that Gojo had the moment he saw you sniveling and hiccuping in that alley. It was an all consuming want—the kind that would gnaw at you from the inside bit by bit, intestine by intestine, organ by organ, until there was nothing left but that damned craving. Gojo would have died if he hadn’t been able to have you. He would have combust and taken the world with him, he’s certain of it.

And now that he’s had you -in every way and position imaginable- he’ll be damned if he lets some curse who only gets 5 minutes of playtime take you away from him.

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mogolgogol · 1 month

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cw. none, except for satoru being disgustingly cute.

to outsiders, your relationship with satoru is as much a blessing as it is a curse. it’s a blessing, because even your mere presence causes satoru’s talking to drop by a hefty 80% at the very least. it’s a curse, because satoru only stops his chattering to cling to you.

he wraps his arms around your waist, and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. he holds your hands, and cups his own face with them. he tucks your hair behind your ear and squeezes your cheeks together. he’s so utterly enamoured with you, that words suddenly feel unnecessary. and you let him be.

it’s his way of recharging, of finding little bits of peace in a stressful day. so, you allow him to do as he wishes, and simply continue whatever conversation you are having—as if satoru wasn’t currently biting your finger. you dismiss the looks of disgust people throw at him, finding the way he clings to you like a baby koala oddly endearing.

it’s a custom, by now. a custom that’s loved by the both of you, and only the both of you. so, yes—a blessing and a curse. satoru is quieter when you’re around, but in exchange for a (not so) healthy dose of pda.

pick your poison, as one would say.

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mogolgogol · 2 months

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Harry knows his duties.

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mogolgogol · 2 months

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Felt like sharing some Lee & Kya From The Tea Shop AU sketches ✨🍵

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mogolgogol · 3 months

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Something i think abt often is sukuna placing almost all of his entire body weight on you, pretending to faint just for the shits and giggles, even tho it makes you fight for your LIFE

Sukuna: oh my, what's this...? Im feelin' so lightheaded all of a sudden-

You: [SCREAMING]

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mogolgogol · 5 months

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Oscar Isaac as Jonathan

SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE (2021) - Episode 3 - The Vale of Tears

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mogolgogol · 5 months

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DEATH STRANDING ┃ 9/?

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mogolgogol · 5 months

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The scene where he pretends to be a bridges employee and he even changes his voice a lil is always so cute me. Makes me think this is the clumsy type of person he was as a porter.

- images Balagan

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mogolgogol · 5 months

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No matter what you, me, or anyone else does, humanity has a few hundred thousand years left, tops. So why don’t we just cut to the chase? Accept our fate. Like the creatures before us. We all know what’s coming. Why delay the inevitable?

Troy Baker as Higgs Monaghan in DEATH STRANDING (2019) dev. Kojima Productions

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mogolgogol · 5 months

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The name’s HIGGS. The particle of God that permeates all existence.

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mogolgogol · 5 months

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afterglow

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mogolgogol · 5 months

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Loba

Pairing: John Price x GN!Reader

TW: Some gore description. Thats it, i think.

WC: 2.4k

There was something odd about you, John Price's neighbor. To the untrained eye, you were an average person. But John's been a sniper longer than he's been captain, which meant he was perspicacious. His ability to intake information and process it was second to none. And so, he'd like to think he knew what he saw when you once looked at him in passing. The eyes of something that sits atop the food chain.

Yet, he can't help but doubt himself. You're a small thing. Soft, plush, comely. You greet everyone with a smile. Bake homemade chocolate chip cookies for the surrounding neighbors on occasion. Sit on your knees, digging your fingers into damp soil, planting flowers in the garden. Had it been a trick of the light? He supposed it didn't matter. As much as you intrigued him, you had a partner you sent off to work with a polite kiss on the cheek and lunch bag in hand every day. Ordinary.

Until one day, normal turned abnormal.

John liked to sit on his porch, tea in hand, and people-watch. He hid it under the guise of reading the paper so he wouldn't put people off— but he liked to be observant. And being observant meant knowing the routines of his surrounding neighbors. So, John noticed that your partner hadn't been home in two weeks. And you, his pretty little neighbor, are irate. Slamming the front door closed after taking out the trash, hands digging into the planting soil with such ferocity he'd think it was hiding treasure, and not one greeting to anyone. Not even him.

And that definitely didn't sting, he tells himself. You were unavailable and clearly in love if your temper as of late had anything to say about it.

One afternoon, John is sitting outside in his customary spot when he watches your car pull up into the driveway and park. You open the driver's door with such force that he thinks it's about to come off the hinges and get out with furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, and lips firmly pressed together.

Oh? That's a first. Granted, John's deployed a lot so he's not home all the time, but he's never seen you this upset since you moved in next door 6 months ago.

Your partner hops out of the passenger side and runs up behind you, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Honey, please, forgive-," and John watches you turn around, get in their face, and snarl— like a dog ready to fight. Teeth bared in evident hostility, the skin on your nose scrunched up in fury. You look unreservedly feral, John thinks.

He hears you let out an animalistic growl before you notice John sitting on his porch. Pivoting on the balls of your feet, you stalk towards the house not waiting for your partner to follow.

If John coughed to cover the chuckle he let out at the sight of your partner scrambling behind you like a pathetic puppy, he'd never admit it.

Later that evening, John hears frantic pounding on his front door, and he freezes. It's almost midnight. He can't help but think that his enemies have found him, so he quietly moves to his bookshelf and grabs his loaded handgun. Pulling the slide back to chamber a round, he moves to cover when he hears a recognizable voice alongside the knocking.

"Please, Mr. Price, I only want to ask you something!"

With the handgun behind his back, he approaches cautiously, before undoing the locks and cracking it open a smidge. It's your partner, and they look jumpy.

"This is not an appropriate hour to be knocking on doors, by the way," he grumbles.

"I know, Mr. Price, and I apologize but I had an emergency."

John frowns. "I'm not the coppers."

"I just had a quick question for you."

He points the gun as he opens the door wider, finger on the trigger while still holding the firearm out of sight of your partner on the other side.

"Right, then. What is it?"

"I wanted to ask if you've seen my partner. They still haven’t come back and they've been gone since before I got home. I already called to file a missing person report."

John clenches his jaw.

"No, I haven't. I'll keep an eye out for you, though. Now, if you'd excuse me."

"Yes, of course. Have a good night, Mr. Price."

Closing the door, he tightens the grip on his gun. John is an interrogation expert. Reading body language is his second nature— so he wonders why they lied about calling the police.

In the morning, John goes out to ask if you'd come home when he notices you in the yard gardening with a pleased smile on your lips. His heart stutters at the sight. Oh, how lovely you looked taking care of your home. What he'd do to have a person like you for him to come back to— that he wishes it was you is a secret he's taking to his grave.

John shakes his head and clears his throat to catch your attention and you turn your head.

"Mr. Price, Good morning!", you greet.

Walking over to stand next to your kneeled form, he says, "Good morning, love. I'm only wanting to check up on you. Your partner came over late and seemed very distraught at your disappearance."

You purse your lips in annoyance. Interesting.

"I'm so sorry. I hope they didn't wake you, Mr. Price."

"Not at all, love, I tend to stay up late. And please, it's John."

You curl your mouth into a dimpled, teasing smile— enchanting him.

"Alright, John."

The way you said his name so alluringly is going to haunt him in his dreams, he knows it. With flaming cheeks, John pulls at his facial hair to distract himself from the direction his thoughts take.

"Right," he swallows hard, "Well. I—uh, figure that you didn't want your partner to know where you were, so be aware that you could always tell me anything. If only to know that you aren't missing."

He hears you sigh before taking off your gardening gloves and moves to stand when John reaches his hand out to assist and you take it. Your hand is so tiny in his, it makes him reluctant to let go. Dusting your pants, you say, "They knew where I'd be going. They've been letting me starve, and I'm ravenous." And your eyes look up to his.

There it is again. That predatory gaze. Like you'd eat him whole.

"I don't—" and you cut him off.

"I've got to take care of myself. I'm not going to sit around hungry, and I can't eat apologies."

Tipping your head to the side, you open your mouth to tell him something when the both of you are startled by a car honk. John quickly moves to block your body with his, the need to protect being instinctual, when he realizes that it's your partner in front of the driveway— and they do not look pleased.

John feels your hand on his bicep as you step around him, and he feels the egotistical urge to flex.

"Seems like I'm needed elsewhere. It was a pleasure speaking with you."

He looks at you with ocean-blue eyes and murmurs, "Pleasure's all mine, love. Remember what I said."

John follows the movement of your hand tucking a lock of hair behind your ear before you say, "You'll be the first person I go to, John", and you jump again at another honk.

He sees your eyes flick from him to the car and back at him— and the toothy smile you give him sends dread, like molasses, down his spine.

"I'll be seeing you, then."

And then you're getting into the car and closing the door with a slam, tires screeching on the pavement. Gone.

As John walks back to his house, he tries hard to not think back on your pointed ears, or how sharp your canine teeth had been, or how your pupils had dilated when looking at your partner— like a predator catching sight of its prey.

It's the witching hour, and John startles awake to breaking glass and some crashing from next door. Your house. Ripping the blanket off of him, he sprints to his closet and slips on some sweats and laces on his boots before taking out his NATO rifle— heading towards the back of his house. He slips out through the back door and walks up to the fence separating his backyard and yours. John slings the rifle to his back and jumps, fingers hooking over the edge of the fence, and climbs over it.

On light feet, he crouch-walks while aiming the rifle at your house fully alert. His ears pick up some human whimpering, and then a deep, low rumble that sends vibrations into his chest. What is that?

Clenching his teeth, he walks up and peers into the door window and his blood freezes in his veins. The house is a mess. Glass litters the floor, and the dining room table is splintered into pieces. Some blood splattered on the walls and smeared on the kitchen tiles. He turns the door handle, and it opens. Unlocked.

John thinks the worst has happened. A home invasion turned homicide. That he'll find your body lying in a pool of blood. Your normally captivating eyes lifeless. He shakes himself of his mild panic— now is not the time. Walking further into your home, boots softly crunching on debris, he spots your partner on the living room floor.

And they're bloody with injuries, trembling violently. John runs up to them and grabs their shoulder.

"Are you alright?!" he shouts. But your partner isn't responding, rather looking unblinkingly into a darkened hallway. John notices and swiftly aims his rifle down the hall. Then he hears or rather feels, another vicious guttural growl. Then he spots two glowing orbs in the dark like reflective tape shining with artificial light.

The orbs then rise, almost to the ceiling, and draw near slowly. John can't remember the last time he froze during a tense altercation, but then again, whatever the hell that is, isn't something he's ever dealt with in combat. He's snapped out of his reverie when the figure is lit up by the living room light and his jaw drops.

It's something out of stories. Tall, human body-shaped covered in black fur standing on two legs. Large human hands tipped with curved claws. Saliva dripping from its bared teeth and extra-long canines. Golden eyes with black slits and a long, scrunched snout. A werewolf.

Your partner screams before scrambling to hide behind John's body like a shield.

"Please! I didn't mean—", their pleading is cut off by another ferocious growl. John looks up at the werewolf and instantly recognizes those eyes. He's seen them before, on you— his cute little neighbor.

John remembers saying once that if you cannot recognize the target, you are the target. And those molten-gold eyes weren't looking at him but rather behind him. The werewolf's long arm reaches out to touch John's shoulder, slightly pushing him to the side. Its intent is clear— It's a predator on the hunt.

He shuffles out of the way and witnesses the werewolf wrap one clawed hand around your partner's ankle and yank— pulling them into the darkness. John hears them wailing, pleading for their life. Sees them clawing at the floor trying to stop the drag of their body but to no avail.

Not even a minute later, there's a sickening crunch and then the screaming stops— nothing but John's heavy breathing, soft gnashing of teeth, and more bones breaking. He slowly gets up from the ground and waits. For what, he doesn't know.

John then hears a door open and close. Something sounds like sticks being snapped into place, a loud muffled whimper, and then a door opening again. Out steps you, wrapped in a blanket with your hands and mouth dripping blood. Exhaling, he slowly walks up to you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

"That was you, then," he questions and you nod.

John sucks in a breath before asking another question.

"Why did you eat them?"

"They took the role of handler yet wanted me human. Domesticated. Shoved in a closet during a full moon. As if that could stop me."

You lock eyes with John, pupils blown wide open.

"Besides, no man can tame a predator by acting like prey."

He nods, head hanging low, conceding. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders and the other on your lower back, he kneels and with a grunt picks you up— carrying you out the front door.

"Let's get over to my house, I'll have this taken care of."

John feels your warm breath against his neck and grips your body tighter. Unlocking the door, he steps inside and deposits you on his couch, then jogs to his bedroom and gets his phone. He's tapping the screen when he hears you.

"John, I'm still hungry."

He stops and closes his eyes for a second, before moving to the door and holding it open.

Looking at you with a stony gaze, he says, "You will be home before daybreak. Not a minute later. Do I make myself clear?"

You nod and run up to him. Picking up his hand, you press his open calloused palm onto your cheek— nuzzling it— and give it a bloodied kiss, before running out and disappearing into the night.

John raises his hand to look at his palm and closes it tight. He already has blood on his hands, what's a little more. Back to his phone, he dials a number and puts it up to his ear.

"Simon. Yeah, I know it's late. Listen, I need you to come over. There's some cleaning up we have to do. Bring a mop." and hangs up.

If holding on to your leash is how you stay with him, then he's holding it with an iron fist and never letting go. Although, it'd probably be a good idea to move away from this neighborhood if he wants to show off his cute little neighbor wife.

A/N: I got inspired by shakira's song ofc. love it. Thank you to my beta for gassing it up. You a real one.

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