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Current Song
if Toji won’t give you attention…his cock sure will
cw: explicit smut, giving head, Toji giving you the silent treatment.
“Toji. I’m talking to you.”
Nothing.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you say angrily, “We were at a bar. Some guy asked if I wanted another drink while you were in the bathroom for five fucking minutes. I said no. That’s it. You’re acting like I sucked his dick in the alley.”
Still. Nothing. You laugh bitterly, “Wow. Real mature, Toji. That’s cute.” You try again—“Toji, come on. It was nothing. Can you please fucking talk to me.” Fucking nothing. His knuckles bleach white around the steering wheel. Eyes stay fixed on the road like you’re not even there. Fine.
By the time you’re through the front door he’s already shrugging off his jacket, kicking his boots toward the corner with more force than necessary, then heading straight for the couch like you’re invisible. He drops down, legs spread wide, arms crossed, staring at the blank TV screen.
You stand there in the living room doorway, arms folded tight across your chest, watching him sprawl on the couch. Toji doesn’t acknowledge you. Just sits there, legs manspread wide, thick thighs straining the fabric of his sweats with his arms crossed so hard the veins in his forearms stand out.
He can pretend all he wants, but his body clearly isn’t on board with the silent treatment. “Toji. Look at me.” Nothing.
You step closer. “I said look at me.” His eyes stay locked on the black TV screen. You laugh again, “Okay. So we’re doing this. You’re just gonna sit there like a pissed-off statue while I stand here talking to myself? Classy.” Still nothing. Fuck. This.
You kneel in front of him, pulling his sweats down. His cock springs free, heavy and flushed dark, the tip already slick. A bead of pre-cum slides down the shaft, “Ignoring me all night but still so hard,” you taunt.
His hips jerk forward once, involuntary, before he locks them in place like he’s punishing himself. Your hand wraps around the base and you give one slow, deliberate stroke upward, thumb dragging over the slick head on the way back down. His abs clench so hard the lines carve deeper into his stomach but he still doesn’t speak. Just keeps staring at that fucking blank TV.
You lean in closer, “Still nothing?” you murmur. “That’s fine. Your cock’s doing all the talking for you anyway.” You drag your tongue flat along the underside in one long, wet stripe. You take the head into your mouth and suck hard. Let your tongue swirl slow circles around the slit, tasting the salt of him. The veins in his forearms bulge as his fists tighten on his own biceps, arms still crossed like he’s physically holding himself back from touching you.
You pull off to look up at him doe-eyed. You lick your lips, let a thin string of spit connect you to the glistening head. “Still not gonna talk to me?” you ask sweetly. “Mmkayy, stay mad.” You pop your lips back around him.
Drool runs down your chin, soaking his balls. You’re making the grossest, prettiest sounds as you let him fuck your mouth. His hand shoots to the back of your head, fingers knotting in your hair as he pushes you down. “You think I’m mad because some fucker bought you a drink?”
He leans down until his mouth is a breath from yours. “I’m mad because you smiled at him.” he says thrusting into your mouth, “And I’m madder,” he growls, “because I wanted to break his fucking jaw for it. And I didn’t. Because I was trying to be good. For you.”
His grip tightens in your hair shoving you back down until your nose is pressed flush against his pelvis, throat stretched around him, eyes watering instantly. You gag, but he doesn’t let up. He holds you there letting you feel the full, heavy weight of him, “Make it good,” he mutters, “Show me how sorry you are.”
Oh and you do. You relax your throat as best you can, let him use it as spit drips in thick ropes down your chin. He groans, “Fuck—there. Just like that.” You double down. Letting him hear how wet it is, hands slide up his thighs, then cupping his balls and rolling them gently. He comes hard, flooding your throat until you have to swallow fast to keep up. He groans, hips jerking while you milk him with slow, gentle sucks until he’s twitching from overstimulation. Only then does he finally let you pull off.
You collapse forward, forehead resting against his thigh, panting, lips numb, your chin slick and throat very raw as he exhales roughly. “Get up here.”
You crawl into his lap on shaky legs. He pulls you close as his arms wrapping around you as his mouth finds your ear. “Next time,” he murmurs, “you shut it down before I even have to see it. Or I won’t be this nice about making you make it up to me.”
You nod against his neck, still catching your breath as he kisses the side of your head, “Good girl.”
a/n: DICK ME DOWNNN FUSHIGURO
Boxer!Toji fingering while on the phone
Toji’s eyes narrowed down at the way his fingers slid in and out of you, you were curled up against him, back flush against his chest, lips swollen from how hard you were biting down on them.
He curls his fingers upwards, causing you to arch your back away from him. “Another fight? I don’t know if i’m ready.”
Shiu rubs his fingers in the crease of his eyebrows on the other side of the line “It’s been almost two months. What do you mean you aren’t ready?”
“You do realize you have a title to defend right?” Toji rolls his eyes, barely listening, only focused on the way your body twitches in his lap. “Mhm.”
You throw your head back onto his shoulder, wanting to spill out any little moan he was breaking from you. The plaping sounds of his hand slapping your soppy cunt has you dangerously wondering if his trainer could hear. Tears prickled in the corner of your eyes at the thought alone, all the while your body shudders in pleasure from it as well.
“Okay. So, you need to fight someone, anyone.” Toji’s pace picks up, feeling the way you squeeze around him, he periodically slows just enough to smooth his fingers out and over your clit lovingly. He spreads your own slick over it as he presses down lightly before dipping them back into the warmth of your pussy.
“and I will.” he sighed deeply, “whenever i’m ready.”
God, Shiu was tired, Toji had been telling him he isn’t ready for weeks and the only reason Toji believes he isn’t ready is because of you. He just wanted to come home and fuck his girlfriend without the pain of his body giving out on him for whatever match he had the night.
“You keep this up and the public will think you’re going on another hiatus.” Shiu inhales the cigarette sitting between his fingers as he leans back in his chair.
You could barely contain the curses slipping from your lips as Toji dragged his thick, calloused fingers along your honeyed walls. You looked down, whimpering and watching the way he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, fucking you so well with just that. Toji leans on his phone, his rough palm coming to cover up your mouth. “So let ‘em.”
“Oh!” Shiu snaps his fingers, a name popping up into his head, “You can fight Choso kamo, I’ve seen him before he’s good.”
Your head slowly falls back onto his shoulder, mind drifting off into a bliss. Toji’s fingers slip out of you once more, flicking over your puffy clit. He presses his hand over your mouth harder to muffle your sweet moans.
“Now, when you look him up he may look smaller than you but that doesn’t mean underestimate him and do whatever the fuck you do in the ring.” Toji scoffs, “I won’t.”
“Just set the shit up and let me know when it is.” his brows furrow, set on making you cum, his fingers press and squeeze on the abused bud, your whines getting higher when he angles his fingers in the right spot.
Muffled moans fill the other side of his ear as you nod, lost in pleasure, your stomach clenching up in the best way, “Good. It’ll be in three weeks.”
“Which means you need to come to the fucking gym man.” Toji could hear Shiu exhale his cigarette, he pulls your head a bit closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, which was his way of saying “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”
“Do you hear me!? I mean it. Bright and fuckin’ early too.” Shiu scolds. your eyes roll to the back of your head as your release finally washes over you, stars clouding your vision while you groan in his grasp. “Yea, are we done here?”
But Toji didn’t stop, he plunges his fingers right back into your gaping hole, setting a punishing pace. “No. We aren’t fuckin’ done.”
“Pick up the phone when I call you too!” Shiu was now pacing his room trying to calm his nerves. You on the other hand try to instinctively close your legs around Toji’s hand, he leans over, simply mouthing the word “Open.” against the shell of your ear.
You could do nothing but do as you were told. Your shaky legs parted and even then he didn’t let up. Toji was fingering you like he was trying to accomplish something. His gaze never left the way he thrusted his fingers inside of you, watching the way your slick coated his fingers perfectly.
You couldn’t handle the overstimulation, your body jerked in his arms. Shiu’s nagging faded out when Toji decided to hyper focus your pussy. His hand starting to get wetter and wetter with something other than your cum by each passing second and he knew he was getting you closer.
He speeds his pace up, determined. Not even caring about the obscene sounds he was making as he continued to slap the palm of his hand against your cunt.
“Hey! Are you listening!?” Shiu’s voice cuts through his trance, finally having enough of him interrupting, he knew you were getting to your limit, “Yeaa. I gotta go.”
“Hey! I’m not fini—” Toji hangs up without a second thought, tossing his phone aside. Your second orgasm knocks the wind out of your lungs, letting out a broken cry as his hand falls from your lips. You gush all over Toji’s hand and forearm, completely soaking his sweats. His hand sputters against you, “Fuck, you did such a good job, baby.”
His thrusts slow as his fingers ride you through your high, “I’m so proud of you.”
His hand cups your jaw, turning your face towards him, he swallows any left over moans that leaves your lips as he presses his lips against yours, letting out a strained groan when he slips his tongue over yours and your body just continued to jerk on top of him.
“So beautiful, you did so well for me.” he mutters praises in between soft kisses against your temple.
“Hnn—” you laid there body weak while you tried to catch your breath, chest rising and falling slowly. Toji doesn’t stop with his praises even while he’s kissing all over your face. He doesn’t even care about the mess you made, he knows it’s all his fault and he’s fully prepared to clean it up.
“Yeaa, my pretty girl.” he drawls, pulling you in for another kiss, this time more slower, softer, and gentler.
a/n: Gosh I need him so freaking bad, boxer toji fic otw guys. sorry guys can we tell I love the nickname baby..
ಇ.word count: 6.5k ಇ.art by: @!uuuke0_U on X
ಇ.pairing: Toji F. x Fem!Reader x Choso K.
Tying up loose ends with your ex boyfriend Toji ends up in a threesome with your new boyfriend Choso?!
ಇ.content & warnings: porn with no plot :: threesome activity :: some toji x choso action :: older toji :: sub cho :: dominant reader & toji :: oral m. rec :: p in v :: dp :: both in the v :: at the same damn time :: c-pied :: kissing ::
ಇ.author's note: i have a few more drabbles with this paring - so yes more to cum in the future!
The apartment door barely clicked shut before the air thickened, heavy with the kind of tension that made your pulse stutter and your thighs press together on instinct.
Toji Fushiguro stood in your living room like he still owned the place, broad shoulders filling out that worn black shirt, scarred lips curled in that same cocky smirk you’d tried so hard to forget.
Months since you’d walked out on him, and yet here he was, invited in under the flimsiest excuse after he’d spotted you and Choso at that dimly lit bar earlier tonight. Now Choso lingered just behind you, quiet as always, dark eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of wariness and something softer, something that still made your stomach flip.
Toji didn’t waste time. His large hand caught your wrist, tugging you forward until your chest bumped his. “Missed this pretty little body,” he rumbled, voice low and mean, the way it always got when he wanted something. His other palm slid down your side, fingers digging into your hip hard enough to bruise, yanking your shirt up without asking. Choso stepped closer too, hesitant at first, but when you didn’t pull away his hands joined in, gentler but just as eager, peeling the fabric over your head until cool air kissed your bare skin.
Clothes came off in a messy rush. Toji ripped your bra down your arms with a grunt, tossing it aside like it offended him, while Choso’s fingers worked your jeans open, pushing them down your legs along with your panties in one careful tug. You were naked between them in seconds, skin prickling under their stares.
Toji’s gaze dragged over you slow and possessive, grumpy old bastard that he was, muttering, “Still lookin’ like you were made for me, huh?” Choso said nothing, just pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his long hair brushing your cheek as his hands roamed your waist.
They walked you backward through the hallway, Toji’s bulk guiding the way with that dominant swagger he never lost, one arm hooked around your middle while Choso followed close on your other side.
The bedroom door swung open and they pushed you inside, the backs of your knees hitting the mattress before you even realized. Toji shoved you down onto the edge of the bed, standing tall over you, already palming the thick bulge straining his pants. “On your knees, sweetheart. Been thinkin’ about that mouth wrapin’ around me all night.”
You sank down obediently, the carpet soft under your knees, and tilted your head up at him with a sweet little smile that made his green eyes narrow. “Choso,” you called softly, patting the spot beside you. “Come here, baby.”
Toji’s brows shot up. “Wait, what the fuck? You ain’t callin’ him over to suck my cock or watch like some this is some goddamn show. This ain’t—”
“Shut up, Toji,” you cut in, voice calm but firm, the same tone you used when he used to push too far back when he was yours. He actually paused, jaw ticking, that scowl deepening, but he didn’t stop you.
Choso knelt beside you without hesitation, cheeks faintly pink under the dim lamp light, his dark eyes flicking up to yours for approval. You turned to him first, cupping his face and pulling him into a slow, deep kiss, tongues sliding lazy and wet while your hand drifted down to palm Toji’s cock through his unzipped pants.
You freed him, thick and heavy and already leaking at the tip, stroking him firm and steady as you made sure Toji watched every second of the kiss— the way Choso melted into it, soft little hum vibrating against your lips.
When you finally broke the kiss, a string of spit connecting you both for a moment, you smiled at Choso and murmured, “Be a good boy for me. Suck him.”
Toji barked a laugh, rough and disbelieving. “Fuck no. You serious? He ain’t—”
You shot him a look. “I said shut up and let him.”
Choso was shy about it at first, hesitating as he leaned in, but the second his pretty mouth wrapped around the head of Toji’s cock, the older man’s hips jerked and a low, shocked groan tore from his throat. “Oh my fuck…” Toji’s hand came down to tangle in Choso’s long hair, not guiding yet, just holding on as that warm, wet heat enveloped him.
Choso’s mouth was perfect— soft lips stretching around the girth, tongue swirling, lazy circles over the swollen head, lapping at the precum like he was savouring it. He took more, cheeks hollowing as he bobbed slowly, one hand braced on Toji’s thick thigh while the other came up to gently roll and tug at his heavy balls.
You watched with a satisfied little smile, still kneeling right there beside him, your hand resting on Choso’s back in quiet praise. “That’s it, good boy,” you cooed softly, voice dripping honey. “Just like that. Use your tongue more on the head, baby— he likes that.”
Toji’s head fell back for a second, a guttural curse spilling out as Choso obeyed instantly, licking broad stripes up the underside before sucking the tip back into that slick heat, eyes fluttering half-closed like he was lost in it. The contrast hit Toji hard— the way Choso moved so obediently, no backtalk, no attitude, just pure eager submission. He looked almost like a well-trained pet, kneeling there pretty and focused, long hair spilling over his shoulders while he worked Toji’s cock deeper into his throat with wet, obscene sounds.
“Fuck, ma,” Toji grunted, voice rougher now, hips twitching as he stared down at the scene. His free hand reached out to grip your chin, tilting your face up so he could see your smile. “You got him well trained like a dog. This the kinda shit you’re into now? Lettin’ your new boytoy slobber all over your ex’s dick just ‘cause you say so?”
You leaned into his touch, still smiling, eyes sparkling with that quiet triumph. “Yeah,” you said simply, voice soft and warm as you stroked Choso’s hair. “Choso listens. He’s good for me. Never argued or made everything a fight… unlike someone.”
Toji’s laugh came out breathless, a mix of annoyance and reluctant heat, his cock twitching hard between Choso’s lips as the younger man hollowed his cheeks again, taking him even deeper with a soft, muffled moan.
Choso’s tongue pressed flat against the vein running underneath, swirling and teasing, while his fingers continued their gentle massage on Toji’s balls, coaxing more precum to leak onto his tongue.
Toji’s grip tightened in Choso’s dark hair, but he didn’t force the pace— couldn’t, not when it felt this fucking good, that shy obedience wrapping around him tighter than any attitude ever had.
You stayed right there, naked and kneeling between them, one hand on Choso’s thigh for balance and the other occasionally reaching up to trace Toji’s abs, feeling the way his muscles jumped under your touch.
The bedroom filled with the wet sounds of Choso’s mouth, Toji’s low grunts, and your quiet praises whispered like secrets. “Good boy, Choso… swallow around him, just like that. See how much he likes it when you’re sweet for him?”
Choso hummed in response, the vibration making Toji hiss through his teeth, green eyes narrowing down at you with that familiar mean edge softened by raw pleasure. “You’re enjoyin’ this way too much, brat,” he muttered, but there was no real bite left in it— not when his cock was buried in that perfect, warm mouth and you were watching him unravel with that knowing little smile.
Toji’s hips twitched again, thicker veins pulsing against Choso’s tongue as the younger man kept working him slow and deep, cheeks hollowed, lashes fluttering like he was lost in the taste.
That wet heat dragged along every inch, tongue pressing flat and swirling lazy circles around the swollen head before sliding back down until the tip nudged the back of Choso’s throat.
Choso didn’t gag, didn’t pull away— just swallowed around him with a soft, obedient little sound that had Toji’s abs tightening, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
The older man’s hand stayed tangled in all that dark hair, fingers flexing like he wanted to fist it tight and fuck into that pretty mouth until tears spilled down Choso’s cheeks, but he held back, jaw clenched, breathing rough through his nose. Cocky bastard that he was, even he could feel how perfectly Choso was sucking him off, all shy devotion and slick warmth that made his balls draw up tighter with every pass.
You stayed kneeling right beside them, naked skin flushed warm, smiling that soft, satisfied smile while your hand rested on Choso’s thigh, thumb stroking gentle circles of praise. The sight of Toji trying so hard to keep control, hips barely rocking forward instead of slamming deep, sent a sweet thrill curling low in your belly.
Choso’s mouth made the filthiest sounds— wet slurps and quiet gulps, saliva already dripping down his chin and coating Toji’s heavy length in shiny streaks.
Toji’s gaze finally snapped to you, green eyes dark and hungry, his free hand shot out fast, fingers threading rough through your hair and yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look up at him.
The pull stung just enough to make you gasp, lips parting on a soft breath. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he growled, voice gravel-rough and mean. “You’re smilin’ like you won somethin’. Wet those pretty lips for me.”
He pulled out of Choso’s mouth with a wet pop, the thick head glistening, strings of saliva and precum webbing between Choso’s swollen lips and Toji’s cock like glistening threads that stretched and broke as he moved. Choso stayed kneeling there, breathing hard, lips shiny and parted, a faint blush high on his cheeks as he looked at you both with those dark, obedient eyes.
You swallowed once, throat bobbing, and Toji’s smirk sharpened, cock twitching in the cool air. “Come on, you little brat,” he said, low and taunting, tugging your hair again to tilt your face exactly where he wanted it. “Put that evil little mouth to work. Been watchin’ you direct your pet like a fuckin’ conductor— now show me what that smart mouth can really do.”
Your smile never faded, only curved wider as you leaned in, tongue darting out to trace the messy trail of spit and precum still clinging to him. Choso watched quietly from beside you, one hand resting lightly on your knee like he was waiting for whatever you’d tell him next. Toji’s grip in your hair stayed firm, guiding you closer until your lips brushed the slick head, the salty taste blooming across your tongue as you opened for him.
The bedroom air felt thicker now, heavy with the scent of skin and want, the three of you tangled in that messy heat where Toji’s dominance clashed against Choso’s sweet obedience and your quiet control. You took him in slow at first, lips stretching around his girth, tongue swirling just like you’d told Choso to do, while Toji’s low groan filled the room and his fingers tightened in your hair, hips finally giving one shallow thrust forward.
A low sound slipped from your throat as Toji pulled free and slapped his thick, spit-slick cock against your parted lips, the heavy weight of it landing wet and deliberate, smearing more of that messy mix of precum and Choso’s saliva across your mouth.
He did it again, harder this time, the wet smack echoing soft in the quiet bedroom while his scarred lips pulled into that mean, cocky grin. “That’s it, open wider, brat. Gonna fuck this throat pretty tonight— been thinkin’ about shuttin’ you up like this for months.”
He despised you, or at least that’s what the rough grip in your hair said, the way his fingers twisted tighter like he wanted to punish you for walking out, for replacing him with someone so sweetly obedient. But underneath scowl and the low growl in his chest, Toji knew you could take it. You always had. His hips rolled forward slow at first, feeding you inch after thick inch until the head nudged the back of your throat and your eyes watered just a little.
You swallowed around him anyway, lips stretched wide, tongue pressing flat along the underside as he started to thrust deeper, setting a steady, punishing rhythm that made your throat bulge faintly with every push.
Choso stayed knelt right beside you the whole time, dark eyes wide and fixed on the way your mouth worked Toji’s cock, the wet gluck-gluck sounds filling the room as spit dribbled down your chin and onto your bare tits. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched with that shy heat blooming across his cheeks, his own cock hard and untouched between his thighs.
Toji noticed. Of course he did. Without missing a single thrust into your throat, he reached down with his free hand and caught Choso under the chin, tilting that pretty face up towards him. “C’mere, pet,” he rumbled, voice rough but almost amused. “Give me a kiss while your girl chokes on me.”
You tried to pull back just enough to say something, a soft protest bubbling up around his cock, but Toji yanked your head forward again, burying himself deeper until your nose pressed against his pelvis and your words dissolved into a muffled gag. “Shut up and keep suckin’,” he snapped down at you, green eyes flashing with that familiar mean edge. “And watch. Eyes open, sweetheart. Don’t you dare look away.”
Choso hesitated for half a second, shy as always, but when Toji’s thumb brushed his bottom lip he leaned in obediently. Toji grabbed him harder then, fingers sliding into that long dark hair as he crushed their mouths together in a deep, filthy kiss. It wasn’t soft.
It was all tongue and teeth and dominance, Toji’s jaw working as he licked into Choso’s mouth like he owned it, swallowing the soft, surprised whimper that spilled from the younger man. Choso melted almost instantly, shoulders slumping, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed back with that quiet eagerness he always gave you— hands coming up to rest lightly on Toji’s broad chest, body leaning closer like he couldn’t help it.
You watched every second of it, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the relentless pace Toji set in your throat, but the sight burned hotter than anything.
Choso’s lashes trembling against his cheeks, a faint moan vibrating between their locked lips as Toji kissed him harder, tongue stroking deep and possessive while his hips kept snapping forward into your mouth.
Spit trailed from the corner of Choso’s lips, his cheeks flushed darker, and when Toji finally pulled back just enough for them to breathe, a thin string of saliva still connected them for a moment before breaking.
Toji’s laugh came out low and breathless, thumb swiping over Choso’s swollen bottom lip as he looked down at you. “Fuck, look at him. So damn well-trained. One kiss and he’s already drippin’ for it.” His cock twitched hard against your tongue, the praise mixed with taunt making your stomach twist in the best way.
You kept sucking through it all, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around every thick thrust while your eyes stayed locked on the way Choso stayed pliant and open, lips parted and shiny, waiting for whatever came next.
Toji’s green eyes flicked between the two of you, that mean smirk deepening as he kept his hips rolling slow and deep into your throat. “She has you so fuckin’ obedient, huh?” he rumbled, voice thick with gravel and heat. “Bet you never fucked her throat like this. She’s a little brat, don’t let her fool ya. Acts all sweet and in control, but look at her— mouth stuffed full and still smilin’ around my cock.”
You tried to pull back just enough to say something, a soft protest bubbling up, but Toji didn’t let you. He fucked forward harder instead, burying himself to the hilt until your nose pressed flush against his pelvis and your throat convulsed around him. “See?” he growled, holding you there, eyes narrowing with dark satisfaction. “She doesn’t even fuckin’ gag anymore. Loves this shit. Been cravin’ it since she left my sorry ass, I bet.”
The stretch burned so good, spit dripping down your chin in messy rivulets as you breathed hard through your nose, tears clinging to your lashes. Toji kept you pinned like that for a long moment, savouring the tight heat, before he finally pulled out with a wet, obscene pop.
Thick strings of saliva and precum connected your swollen lips to his glistening cock before they broke, and you gasped for air, chest heaving, throat raw and tingling.
Toji stepped back, cock heavy and slick between his thighs, and dropped onto the bed with a grunt, sprawling out on his back like he owned the damn mattress. His muscles flexing under scarred skin as he stroked himself once, slow and lazy, green eyes locked on you with that cocky, command. “Get your ass up here, sweetheart. You're gonna take all of this cock. Now.”
You were still catching your breath, lips shiny and parted, but you moved anyway, crawling up the bed on shaky knees. Choso was right there, gentle hands sliding under your arms to help you up, supporting your weight with that quiet care he always gave you. His touch was soft against your flushed skin, thumb brushing your side like a silent promise as he guided you over Toji’s lap.
As you crawled forward, knees bracketing Toji’s thick thighs, hovering just above his heavy, leaking cock, Toji’s gaze shifted to Choso. “Come on, don’t just stand there like a lost puppy,” he said, voice low and rough, one hand reaching out to pat the bed beside him. “You don’t mind fuckin’ her pussy right? While she’s sittin’ on me, fuckin’ get over here.”
Choso’s cheeks flushed darker, shy with hesitation flickering across his face for half a second, but he obeyed like always, climbing onto the bed without a word. You felt the mattress dip under his weight as he settled close, one hand resting on your lower back, warm and steady. Toji’s palms gripped your hips hard, fingers digging in with that possessive meanness as he yanked you down just enough for the blunt head of his cock to nudge against your dripping entrance, teasing, waiting.
Toji didn’t wait long. With a low grunt he bucked his hips up, thick cock pressing into your cunt in one slow, relentless push. The stretch was brutal and perfect, that fat length splitting you open until your walls fluttered tight around every veined inch. You sank all the way down until your ass met his pelvis, a broken moan spilling from your raw throat as he bottomed out deep inside you.
Toji’s scarred hands stayed locked on your hips, holding you there, grinding you down harder so you felt every thick inch pulsing against your sensitive walls.
“Fuck, still so goddamn tight,” he muttered, voice rough and mean, green eyes half-lidded as he looked up at you. “Missed this greedy little pussy. Swallowing me like it never forgot who it belongs to.”
You rocked your hips experimentally, a soft gasp escaping as the head of his cock nudged that spot inside you that made your toes curl. Choso stayed right behind you, quiet and watchful, his warm palm sliding up your spine in gentle strokes while his other hand rested lightly on your hip. His dark eyes were fixed on where you and Toji were joined, lips still swollen from that shared kiss earlier, a faint flush creeping down his neck.
Toji noticed the way Choso hovered, all shy obedience and quiet heat. His smirk sharpened, one hand leaving your hip to reach over and tug Choso closer by the back of his neck. “Don’t just sit there starin’, pet. Get in her. You heard me earlier— you’re fuckin’ her pussy too.”
Choso’s breath hitched, shy as always, but he moved without argument, shifting until he was kneeling behind you on the bed. His long hair brushed your bare back as he leaned in, chest pressing warm against you, cock hard and leaking as it nestled against the curve of your ass.
Toji kept you pinned down on his thick length, hips giving lazy little rolls that made you whimper, while Choso’s hands settled on your waist, gentle and careful like he was afraid to break you.
You felt Choso’s fingers first, tentative as they slid between your spread thighs, brushing where Toji’s cock was already stretching you wide.
He traced the slick stretch of your cunt with soft fingertips, collecting the mess of your arousal before wrapping his hand around his own cock, guiding the head to nudge right beside Toji’s.
The pressure was overwhelming— two thick cocks pressing against your entrance at once, Choso’s shy hesitation making him pause until you reached back and squeezed his thigh in encouragement.
Toji laughed under his breath, that low, cocky sound. “That’s it. Push in slow, kid. She can take it. Little brat’s already drippin’ down my balls thinkin’ about both of us stretchin’ her.”
Choso obeyed, pressing forward with a soft, shaky exhale. The blunt head of his cock slipped in alongside Toji’s, the burn intense and delicious as your walls stretched even wider to take them both. Inch by inch he sank deeper, his cock sliding against Toji’s inside your tight heat, the friction making both men groan low and heavy.
You cried out, head falling back against Choso’s shoulder, body trembling between them as they filled you completely— Toji’s girthy thickness and Choso’s warm length buried deep together.
Toji’s hands gripped your hips harder, holding you still while he gave one experimental thrust up, making both cocks shift inside you and drag against every sensitive spot.
Choso stayed mostly still at first, arms wrapped around your middle, face buried in the crook of your neck as he breathed hot against your skin, letting you adjust to the overwhelming fullness.
“Fuck… so tight,” Toji grunted, voice strained with pleasure, hips rolling up again in a deeper thrust that made you see stars. “Look at her, takin’ us both like she was made for it. You feel that, pet? How she’s squeezin’ around us?”
Choso nodded against your neck, a soft whimper escaping him as he started to move too— slow, careful rolls of his hips that matched Toji’s rhythm, their cocks sliding together inside your slick cunt.
The wet, filthy sounds of skin against skin and the slick drag of two thick lengths stretching you open filled the bedroom, your moans mixing with their low grunts as they fucked you together.
Toji’s large, rough hands slid up from your hips, palms rough and calloused as they cupped your tits, squeezing the soft flesh with that familiar possessive grip. He pinched your nipples between his thick fingers, rolling them until they pebbled hard under his touch, a mean little smirk tugging at his scarred lips when you arched into it with a broken cry. “These pretty tits always did look best when they’re bouncin’ for me,” he growled, voice low and pleased, green eyes dark with heat as he lifted his head from the pillow just enough to latch his mouth onto one swollen nipple.
He sucked hard, tongue swirling hot and wet around the sensitive bud, teeth grazing just enough to make you jolt between them. The wet pull of his mouth sent sparks straight down to where both cocks were buried deep inside your stretched pussy, your walls fluttering tight around the overwhelming fullness.
Choso kept fucking you from behind with those gentle, obedient thrusts, his cock sliding slick alongside Toji’s, every slow drag pressing them both against that perfect spot inside you that made your thighs tremble uncontrollably.
Toji switched to your other tit, sucking it into the heat of his mouth with a low, satisfied hum, his free hand still kneading the first one, thumb flicking over the spit-slick nipple he’d just released. He loved having you like this— caught between them, body trembling and moaning, that quiet control of yours fraying at the edges while two fat cocks stretched your pretty little cunt wide open.
Toji’s hips snapped up harder, driving his thick length deeper with every thrust, the lewd squelch of your arousal coating both of them growing louder as he fucked up into you with that cocky, relentless rhythm.
“Look at you,” Toji muttered against your skin, lips brushing your nipple as he spoke, voice muffled and rough. “Takin’ two cocks like a good girl. Your pussy’s so fuckin’ greedy, squeezin’ us both so tight. Bet you missed this, huh? Missed gettin’ split open by somethin’ real after playin’ house with your obedient puppy.”
You moaned louder, head falling back against Choso’s shoulder, body rocking between their thrusts as the pleasure built heavy and overwhelming.
Choso’s arms stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you steady while he fucked into you with that same shy care, his breath hot and ragged against your neck, soft whimpers spilling from him every time your walls clenched around their joined lengths.
Toji kept sucking on your tits, alternating between them with wet, obscene sounds, biting down gently before soothing the sting with his tongue, his free hand sliding down to rub rough circles over your swollen clit.
The stretch was so much— both fat cocks dragging together inside your slick heat, Toji’s dominance pinning you from below and Choso supporting you from behind, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge.
Toji pulled off your nipple with a wet pop, lips shiny with spit, and grinned up at you with a cocky smirk. “That’s it, moan for us, sweetheart. Let me hear how much you love bein’ stuffed full. Choso’s bein’ so good for you, fuckin’ this pussy nice and deep just like I told him to. But me? I’m gonna make sure you feel every inch tomorrow.”
He thrust up harder, grinding his cock against Choso’s inside you, the friction making stars burst behind your eyes as your moans turned into desperate little cries.
Choso pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, murmuring your name quietly, his hips never stopping their steady rhythm while Toji’s rough hands and hungry mouth worked your tits until they ached with pleasure.
You were lost between them, body trembling and slick with sweat, pussy clenching tight around the two thick lengths stretching you so perfectly, the heat building slow and relentless as Toji teased you with every filthy word and every deep, claiming thrust.
Toji loved every second of it— the way you fell apart so beautifully, the way Choso stayed so sweet even while buried deep inside the same cunt, the way your quiet little smile had turned into open-mouthed moans that filled the room.
He kept sucking and biting at your tits, fingers rolling your nipples, hips snapping up to meet Choso’s thrusts until the three of you moved in one messy, heated rhythm, the night stretching long and filthy with the sounds of skin slapping, wet squelches, and your broken cries echoing between the walls.
A broken little sound tore from your throat as both thick cocks dragged together inside your stretched pussy, the relentless push and pull making your walls flutter and clench around the overwhelming fullness.
Toji’s hips snapped up harder from below, driving his fat length deeper with every thrust while Choso kept that steady rhythm from behind, their cocks sliding slick and hot against each other in the tight heat of your cunt. The wet, filthy squelch filled the room, your arousal dripping down their shafts and coating their balls as they fucked you open so good.
Toji’s mouth was still latched onto your tit, sucking hard enough to leave marks before he pulled off with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen as he grinned up at you with that mean, cocky smirk.
His rough hand slid up to cup your jaw, forcing your head down so you had no choice but to meet his dark green eyes while he kept pounding up into you. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he growled, voice low and gravel-rough, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. “Admit it. Tell me what you are. A little brat who wants these cocks stretchin’ your greedy cunt. Say it.”
You tried to bite back the words, a soft whimper escaping instead as another deep thrust from both of them made your eyes roll back, but Toji wasn’t having it. He pinched your nipple hard, twisting just enough to make you cry out, his other hand gripping your hip tighter to hold you down on their joined lengths. “Don’t play shy now. You’re drippin’ all over us, pussy clenchin’ like it’s beggin’ for more. Tell me you want our cocks. Tell me you want our cum fillin’ this sloppy little hole.”
Choso stayed quiet behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, his breath hot and shaky against your neck as he fucked into you with those gentle rolls of his hips, letting Toji take the lead like always. His cock throbbed alongside Toji’s, the friction delicious and overwhelming, every slow drag pressing right against that spot that made sparks shoot up your spine. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, shy and sweet, but didn’t stop moving, loving even in the middle of all this heat.
The stretch was so good it hurt, both fat cocks splitting your cunt wide open, dragging against every sensitive inch until you felt impossibly full, impossibly owned. Your tits bounced with every thrust, still slick from Toji’s mouth, nipples aching from his teeth and fingers. Toji’s hand slid down between your bodies, rough fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing fast, mean circles that had your thighs shaking uncontrollably.
“Say it,” Toji demanded again, voice dropping lower, hips slamming up harder so the head of his cock bullied that perfect spot inside you while Choso’s length rubbed right alongside it. “You’re my little brat— our little brat. You want these cocks stretchin’ you good. You want us to fill your pussy with cum until it’s leakin’ out for days. Admit it, brat. Loud and clear.”
Your moans turned into desperate little cries, body trembling between them as the pleasure built hotter and heavier, walls squeezing tight around both thick shafts. Toji’s smirk widened, that cockiness flashing in his eyes as he felt you clench harder, knowing he was winning. Choso whimpered softly against your skin, his thrusts growing a little deeper, a little faster, following every cue you’d ever given him because he always listened, always gave you exactly what you needed.
You finally broke, voice wrecked and breathy as the words spilled out between moans. “I’m… I’m a-a brat… I want your cocks… both of you stretching my cunt so good… I want your cum… please…”
Toji laughed low and rough, satisfaction dripping from every syllable as he thrust up harder, grinding their cocks together inside your fluttering pussy. “That’s my girl. Keep sayin’ it while we fuck you full. Gonna fill this greedy hole until you’re drippin’ with both of us.”
The bedroom echoed with the wet slap of skin, your broken admissions, and the low grunts from both men as they kept fucking you together— Toji and Choso turning your body into a trembling, moaning mess caught right between them, the stretch so perfect and filthy that all you could do was take it and beg for more.
Together they fucked you deeper and harder, hips snapping in a messy, unrelenting rhythm that had both thick cocks driving into your stretched cunt at once. Toji thrusting up slamming his fat length as deep as it would go while Choso followed from behind with those steady rolls that somehow made everything feel even fuller, your arousal coating their shafts and dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you as they stretched your pussy so wide it ached in the best way.
You could feel the bulge in your tummy every time they bottomed out together, the outline of their cocks pressing visibly against your lower belly, shifting and dragging with every thrust. Toji’s rough hand slid down to press against that spot, palm flat and heavy as he growled against your tit, “Fuck, feel that? That’s us, sweetheart. Both cocks bulgin’ out your pretty tummy like you were made to take this.”
The pressure built fast and overwhelming, your walls fluttering tighter and tighter around them until you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your orgasm crashed over you hard, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you clenched down violently around both cocks, milking them with rhythmic, desperate pulses.
Your whole body shook between them, thighs trembling, back arching as wave after wave rolled through you, pussy gushing slick and hot around their joined lengths while the bulge in your tummy twitched and tightened with every spasm.
Choso whimpered softly against your neck, his hips stuttering as your clenching cunt squeezed him so perfectly. “Ah—fuck… you’re squeezin’ so tight,” he breathed, voice shy and wrecked, and then he was cumming too, thick ropes of warm cum spilling deep inside you in pulsing spurts. He kept thrusting through it, slow and careful even as he filled you, his cock throbbing alongside Toji’s while he painted your walls white, the added heat and slickness making the stretch feel even messier, even better.
Toji groaned low and rough at the feeling, his scarred hands gripping your hips bruisingly tight as he fucked up into the slick, cum-filled heat of your pussy. “That’s it, milk us, you little brat,” he grunted, green eyes dark with raw pleasure as he watched your face contort in bliss. “Clenchin’ so good around both of us— fuck, take it all.”
He didn’t last much longer after that. With a deep, guttural growl he slammed up one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pulsed hard and started to cum, thick, heavy spurts of cum flooding your already full cunt right alongside Choso’s. The warmth spread deep inside you, both loads mixing together in messy, overflowing pulses that leaked out around their cocks with every shallow grind of their hips, dripping down your thighs and soaking their balls.
They stayed buried inside you even as they came down, chests heaving, bodies pressed tight around yours in a sweaty, trembling tangle. Toji’s hand stayed pressed to the bulge in your tummy, feeling the way it softened just a little with every twitch of your walls, while Choso nuzzled softly into the crook of your neck, pressing lazy kisses to your damp skin and murmuring quiet praises against you.
The bedroom air hung heavy with the scent of sex and sweat, the three of you locked together in that filthy, heated aftermath— your pussy still clenching weakly around their spent cocks, cum slowly leaking out in warm rivulets, Toji’s mean little smirk still playing on his lips even as his breathing evened out, and Choso’s gentle hold never loosening because he always stayed right where you wanted him.
They stayed buried deep for a long, lazy moment, cocks still twitching inside your fluttering cunt as the last weak spurts of cum leaked from them both. Then, slowly, Toji gave a low grunt and started to pull out first, his thick length dragging against Choso’s as he eased free with a wet, obscene sound.
Choso followed right after, gentler, his cock sliding out inch by inch until both heavy shafts slipped from your stretched hole completely. A thick rush of their mixed cum immediately dripped out of you, warm and pearly white, sliding down your thighs in slow, messy rivulets and pooling on the sheets beneath your trembling body.
You collapsed forward onto Toji’s broad chest with a soft, exhausted sigh, cheek pressing against the hard muscle slick with sweat. His skin was warm, scarred, rising and falling with heavy breaths as one of his large arms wrapped around your back, holding you there like he still had every right to. Choso stayed close behind you, his gentle hands smoothing over your hips and lower back, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder blade while his long hair tickled your skin.
Toji’s free hand slid down between your legs without warning, two thick fingers pushing back into your ruined pussy. The stretch was easy now, your walls loose and slick from taking both of them, and he scooped up the warm mixture of their cum that was still leaking out. With a lazy, filthy motion he fingered it all back inside you, slow and deliberate, pushing every drop deeper while his palm pressed firm against your swollen clit. The wet squelch of his fingers working their combined loads back into your cunt filled the quiet room, obscene and intimate all at once.
“Look at that,” Toji muttered, voice low and rough, smirk tugging at his scarred lips as he watched his fingers disappear inside you again and again. “Such a messy girl. Can’t even keep our cum inside this greedy pussy without help. Need to push it all back in where it belongs… bet you love feelin’ us drippin’ out of you, don’t you?”
You whimpered softly against his chest, hips twitching weakly as his thick fingers curled and stroked, making sure every thick rope of their release stayed buried deep. Choso’s hand joined Toji’s for a moment, tentative fingers brushing alongside as he helped press the cum back inside you, his touch so much gentler but just as eager to keep you full. The feeling of both their hands between your legs, fingers sliding through the slick mess they’d made, had fresh heat curling low in your belly even though your body felt spent and boneless.
Toji kept fingering their cum back into you, lazily, occasionally pulling his fingers out just enough to watch more of it drip before pushing it right back in with a low chuckle. “There we go… nice and full again. Gonna keep you leakin’ our loads all night, sweetheart. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Both of us markin’ up this tight little cunt.”
Choso stayed pressed against your back, arms wrapped around your waist now, murmuring quiet, sweet words against your skin while Toji’s fingers continued their slow, filthy work. You lay there between them, cheek on Toji’s warm chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart as the cum slowly settled deep inside you, warm and heavy, a constant reminder of how thoroughly they’d claimed you tonight.
The bedroom felt heavy and quiet now, bodies tangled and slick with sweat, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Toji’s fingers eventually slowed but didn’t leave you completely, still lazily stroking through the mess as if he couldn’t quite stop touching what was his again, even for a little while.
Choso’s gentle hold never loosened, his breath warm against your neck, and you smiled softly against Toji’s skin, that quiet little smile that said you were exactly where you wanted to be— caught between your mean ex and your sweet boy, full of both of them, leaking and claimed and perfectly satisfied.
𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 + 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: daddy/ma/mama/princess, established relationship, light bondage, pussy slapping, light pain kink, dacryphilia, oral, squirting, praise/degradation, pussy obsessed toji, fingering
fey; I did a little re-write before reuploading here!
He is throbbing at how your soft hole looks stretching for all three of his fingers. You’re soft and wet around him. Each little clench and flutter tell Toji how close you are.
Toji traces circles into your clit with his tongue coaxing out a moan. “Gonnna-nnn! Daddy please! Mmm gonna cum!” Squirting on Toji's fingers moaning his name as pleasure overwhelms you.
Trembling, arching your back and yanking on the course rope binding your wrists to the headboard. Moans of his name become unintelligible as your eyes blur with tears.
Toji groans, “Look at that, your stupid little cunt is clenching my fingers like she doesn’t want to let me go.” He sucks and flicks your hypersensitive clit. The rope keeps you from running away from Toji. You’re helpless messy slut with your legs spread open.
You’re at the mercy of Toji’s fingers and tongue. Hot tears trickle down your face. Toji’s is overwhelming and intense eating and playing with your pussy for his pleasure.
Pleading with him, “Don’t want you to stop! I love it when your play with my cunt.” You lost count of how many times you’ve cummed. He’s relentless sucking on and playing with your clit. While grinding his hips into the bed, needing any stimulation for his aching cock.
Toji mocks, “Aw my lil princess crying already?” He slowly swipes his tongue over your clit. Just to savor how you writhe and moan. “All I’ve done is eat you out ma.” He slowly glides his fingers out to lick them clean.
“Ya have the sexiest cunt, so messy and creamy.” He trails kisses around your pussy. “N’ seeing you crying like a fucked out slut even though you haven’t had my cock yet.” Dragging his tongue from your overly sensitive clit down your lips. Toji groans as he licks you clean, pushing his tongue inside you. He rubs your sensitive clit with his thumb.
Roughly smacking your pussy causing you to jolt from the pleasurable sting. “It makes me want to fuck you till you pass out.” He moans in appreciation of how you taste. Unable to resist biting your thigh causing you to jolt from the stinging pain.
He demands, “Whose pussy does this belong to?”
“You!” He lines his cock up with your soft cunt. Rolling his hips and gliding just his fat head past your soft lips. He groans as he watches your small hole stretch to take him.
He taunts, “Huh? What was that princess?” Fucking you with just his tip. He’s obsessing over the color of your lips against his light pink cock head.
You beg, “It’s your’s. I’m your cum hungry slut daddy, I wanna be fucked till I can’t think or walk. Please! Gimmie more than just the tip!” He rocks into you with a harsh thrust. You cry as you arch your back, only for him to force you down with his hand on your stomach.
Bullying your sensitive cunt with steady hard thrust rock in your body and the bed. While he holds onto the headboard. His arm flexing from his grasp.
Bruising your hip with his hold. “I can’t get enough of making you cry.” He leans down, you can feel the scar on his soft lips. You part your lips for his tongue. His kiss is rough and passionate, with a needy hunger, as if he didn’t get finished eating you. He tastes like you.
m.list
੭ ֹ ηєιgнвσυяℓу ◟ `` ˖
𝜗◞ ♡ ꒱ ƒυѕнιgυяσ тσנι × reader cw ⤷ 𖥻 . ˖ ꒰ mdni ꒱ . reader is in university ：unspecified age gap ：smut ：swearing ：reader gets drunk (not during séx) ：teasing ：dirty talk ：cünnilingüs ：fingering ：multiple orgasms ：multiple positions ：biting ：piv ：kind of premature ejaculation ：manhandling ：creàmpiè ：f!reader ♯ 10.9k
ѕυммαяу： ♡ lately you've been running into your hot neighbour at unusual hours on your way to and from the convenience store, you’ve slowly been growing closer because of it. as such, he's taken to lecturing you about eating proper meals. if he's so worried about what you're eating, why doesn't he just cook for you then. . .
Lately, life has been draining you dry, it’s a chore to get up every morning because you know what’s awaiting you. The incessant jingle of your phones alarm waking you from your short-lived nap, back aching as you slowly rise from the couch like a zombie. The reality of your situation hitting you in the face, your laptops bright screen mocking you, taunting you for daring to dream during this busy time.
Ah, isn’t it a beautiful time to be young and studying, you’re grateful, you’re so so grateful for the opportunity to continue to learn but you’re also so tired. Rubbing your eyes with your palm, you pick up your phone and check the time, nearly midnight. A haggard sigh leaving you, maybe napping was too cruel to do, all you want is to sleep some more but this assignment is due in the morning tomorrow—or rather—today.
Why did they even have it be a morning submittal? What happened to a minute before midnight? You’d be a little more miffed but you can’t get too mad about it… since you’re the one who still hasn’t finished it. Not all your fault though! You have other classes and it’s busy this time of year.
Your head drops to the back of the sofa, these days your decision making seems a little skewed. You’re determined to lock in though, it’ll be the best assignment that your professor has ever seen. Just as you’re giving yourself the pep talk you need, your stomach laughs at you, growling, telling you that it’s hungry. Oh, life is just one cruel joke, could it not have waited for a more opportune time?
Whatever, when you gotta eat, you gotta eat. Stumbling around your shoddy apartment, you pull a hoodie over your head and stuff your wallet and phone into your pockets. The convenience store down the road will still be open and it’s only a short walk. It’s not even worth it to look in your fridge, all that’s in there is an assortment of condiments, a bag of grated cheese and some water.
Grocery shopping is a hassle, and expensive and also you don’t really like cooking, not that you even have the time to lately. Your eyes wander to the door to your left when you exit your apartment, it belongs to the new tenant that’s not really new anymore. Your thoughts draw back to him often these days, he’s hot but a little intimidating. There’s the beginnings of a crush fluttering in your chest that you ignore, he’s older, really hot, and only ever gives a quick head nod your way when you both come and go at odd hours.
Whatever, you don’t have time to think about him, it’s snack time and then you’ve got to get back to your assignment. Maybe you shouldn’t have thought about that, your steps are dragging more now…
The trip is longer because of your unwillingness to get back but somehow it still feels like you’re in front of your apartment building far too soon. You’re lingering in front of the complex, you don’t wanna go back up, a childish reluctance building in your chest. And you probably would’ve continued to linger if someone hadn’t spoken up from behind you.
“Are you going in or are you gonna stand here all night?”
The voice is deep and sudden, you jump at it. Turning to face the person behind you, fully ready to flip out but when you see it’s your neighbour you relax a bit. Shoulders drooping as you mumble, “I guess I’m going in, sorry.”
Wordlessly he follows you in through the lobby to the elevator, both waiting for it in silence. You feel a little awkward, it’s the first time he’s spoken to you and it’s because you were distracted by your own thoughts like an idiot. He has a nice voice though, deep and full…
While lost in your thoughts again, he speaks unprompted, “You really ought to be safer about going out this late.”
“What?” You blink up at him, has he always been this tall?
He looks down his nose at you, “This neighbourhood is shit; you shouldn’t be wandering around all spaced out at night.”
The elevator dings with its arrival and you both step into it, a frown on your features when you look at him, “A girl needs to eat,” raising your hand to show off the bag you’re holding, “plus, you’re coming back late too.”
You move to face the elevator doors again, thinking that will be the end of this conversation. Only to be proven wrong when he leans down a little, “I’m not some pretty little thing who can’t defend themself.”
“Who said I couldn’t defend myself?” You take offence at his words; he doesn’t know anything about you.
“My bad…” he raises his hands, his lips quirked in the corner, the beginnings of a smile, “…just considering the way you were lost in your own little world before… I didn’t think you were aware of your surroundings enough to be able to.”
A short huff of annoyance leaves you because he’s right but you don’t say anything more to him, you have a feeling you’ll dig yourself a deeper hole. Not on accident either, just glancing at this man he seems to be getting a kick out of playing with you a little bit.
Which is proven to be true when he talks again, “You know, you should eat a proper meal sometimes.”
“What the hell?” you turn to face him again, “And what are you, my stalker or my mother?”
“Your neighbour,” he grins, “we pass each other a lot at odd hours and you always seem to be coming from the convenience store.”
The elevator finally arrives at your floor and you stomp ahead of him to your apartment, where does he get off? This is the first real conversation you’ve had with him and he became far too familiar with you far too quickly.
Before you unlock your door, you address him, finally retorting that, “If you’re so worried then you can cook for me.”
“Doll…” his gaze full of faux disappointment, “don’t be so quick to invite yourself into some guys apartment.”
You’re embarrassed and annoyed, obviously pouting when you mumble, “Shut up,” and disappear into your apartment.
You don’t miss the small and amused chuckle he lets out, how frustrating… that he sounds good when he laughs like that too.
It’s another late night and you’re minding your own business waiting for the elevator, the chill from outside still sitting fresh in your bones. You’d made another quick trip to the convenience store and you’re very impatiently waiting to be able to eat. This damn elevator has to be on its last legs or something, they really should do some maintenance on it.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, doll,” your neighbour’s behind you, his voice deep and distracting.
Tilting your head back to look up at him, the smirk on his face causing your eyes to roll, “You’ve got to stop stalking me then.”
Already having run into each other like this more than a few times at this point makes it less than surprising to see him right now. In the beginning it was embarrassing to meet like this so often but now it’s almost routine. Conversation is always short and sweet, though he normally has something to say about your food habits, you mostly ignore him when he brings it up.
He moves to stand beside you, “Maybe if you tell me your name it would feel less like stalking.”
“If you don’t know my name by this point then that just means you really suck at stalking someone,” you shrug.
“Alright smartass,” he grumbles at you, though he’s still amused.
You offer him a deal, “I’ll tell you my name if you cook a meal for me.”
“Har har,” his fake laugh is flat. “You don’t even know my name and you’re still trying to get into my apartment?”
“If I ask for your name will you cook a meal for me?”
“Ask and find out.”
The elevator finally dings, alerting you of its arrival. “I’ll pass,” you answer glibly, stepping into it.
He follows you in, “It’s Toji.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I know,” his arms are folded over his chest, acting nonchalant, “I gave it to you freely.”
“You want me to use your name that bad?” Your brow quirks at him, “Ohh, I’m growing on you.”
“Yeah,” he agrees too easily only to grumble out, “you’re growing into a real pain in my ass.”
You bite back, “Stop talking to me then.”
“I think you’d miss me.”
“What’s there to miss?” Your hands are on your hips, turning towards him more, “Your nagging?”
“You’re the one always out at this hour,” he grins, “hoping to run into someone?”
“You’re underestimating my deep desire to avoid cooking,” the elevator opens and while stepping off you add, “plus, I think you’re the one who’d miss me.”
He hums from behind you, a warm hand landing on your lower back, “You might be right about that,” and then he’s smugly wandering past you and entering his own apartment.
The whole interaction leaves you frustrated, you were so sure you were going to win the little back and forth you had with him this time. It’s not fair that he always gets the last word in, even more unfair that he’s that attractive. He flusters you too easily… you might have to up your game.
Another few days go by and you don’t run into Toji, though that’s because you haven’t been going out for food. You’d bought some bread and started living off that but you’re getting tired of the various ways one can eat a loaf of bread. It’s around eight in the morning when you decide you’re going to find something different to have for breakfast, lost in thoughts of the various options available to you as you’re locking your apartment door.
“Oh? And where are you going this early, little miss neighbour?”
By this point, you’d recognise that arrogant and honey rich tone anywhere. Turning to have your eyes blessed by Toji in his sweatpants and a black shirt that has to be at least a couple sizes too small. He must be coming back from somewhere because he’s holding a coffee, waiting patiently for you to indulge him in conversation.
You grace him with your lovely morning attitude, “What’s it to ya?”
“Curious about my favourite neighbour,” his brows crease together, “don’t tell me you’re going out for food?”
“It’s none of–”
“–For fucksake, doll. You hate cooking that much?”
Your hand waves over his general direction, “I’m not in love with the whole judgement thing you’ve got going on right now.”
“Not judgement, pretty. More like…” he wanders a little closer to you, “concern?”
“Mhm,” you stare up at him, “and like I said, if you’re so concerned, cook a meal for me.”
He pauses while gazing down at you, languidly taking a sip of his coffee, almost like he’s in thought. Without another word, he grabs hold of your wrist and tugs you along behind him towards his apartment.
Your voice comes out completely unconcerned, “Uhm, hello? Kidnap much?”
“You’re getting what you wanted,” he shrugs, “I’m gonna cook you a meal.”
“Oh yay! I knew you’d give in eventually.”
“And what had you believing that?”
Your reply is smooth, “I’m simply too cute to say no to.”
You don’t need to see his face to know he’s raised a brow at you all amused, the tone he uses enough, “That’s funny cause I could’ve swore I said no to you plenty of times.”
Brushing him off, “Who’s keeping count really?”
He shakes his head at you and sighs like you’re so exhausting to deal with, like he’s not actively dragging you into his apartment. You’re happy to be getting your way though, smiling as you let yourself be pulled inside this – essentially – strangers house.
As soon as you’re in, you’re tugging yourself free and wandering around his living space. It’s much the same as yours but not nearly as decorated. Pretty sparse actually, only really having the necessities and nothing else.
Toji watches you snoop, “Up to code, nosey?”
At his words, you’re feeling a little bashful about your poor manners, “Sorry.”
He only hums at you, apparently not very worried about it. “I’m not a fucking chef or anything but I can cook an egg.”
Following behind him, you jab, “Does that mean I’m getting the glorious breakfast of egg?”
“Don’t be a smartass,” he grumbles, searching through his kitchen, “you get an omelette,” pan clanking as he pulls it out from the cabinet, “now go bother the furniture.”
“I can’t stay and watch?”
“You wanna learn something or you just wanna annoy me while I do you a favour?”
Blinking sweetly at him, “I wanna keep my very kind neighbour company.”
He’s not giving you much attention, turning the stove on, “Flattery will get you nowhere with me, doll.”
“You like when I’m mean to you, Toji?” You’re right by his side, lingering to draw out this conversation.
He falters at your words, before leaning down to grin menacingly, “I like when you’re quiet.”
Smirking back at him, “If that were true, you wouldn’t talk to me every time you see me.”
“You’re a persistent thing, aren’t ya?” he gives up, going back to what he was doing.
“Only when it suits me,” you stay by his side. Suddenly remembering that he doesn’t know your name still. Voice a little quiet when you say it, as if you’re embarrassed to finally be telling him what it is.
Toji seems pleased, “I finally earned your name, huh?”
“Maybe…” the tension is uncomfortable to you, so you cut through it, “If your omelette sucks I’ll have to find a way to erase your memory.”
“It’ll taste better than the shit you get from the store.”
“Mmm… we’ll see about that.”
Scoff sounding from him at your doubt, “We sure will,” reaching up to pat your head a couple times, “now go sit down and do nothing like a proper leech.”
Grumbling, “Yes sir.” Running off when he glares at you.
When he brings you the omelette, he sits across from you at his small table. Watching you eat, as if waiting for your review of his cooking. It’s so good and you can’t tell if that’s because it’s been so long since you last had something freshly cooked or if he’s actually a God of omelette making.
After the first bite, you don’t even stop to tell him you like it. Forgetting to be polite as you happily eat, completely involved in your food when he laughs.
“I assume it’s good?”
“Mhm,” you mumble through a mouthful before swallowing, “very, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he seems content to just observe you, “I could teach you how to make it.”
One of your hands raises to stop him, “No, that’s okay. It’ll taste better if you just keep making it for me.”
“Oh? Am I your personal chef now?”
“Personal chefs get paid and you will not be, so no?”
Always entertained by you and your antics, “A tempting offer but I’ll have to decline.”
“Are you sure? It’s a position in very high demand,” you’re obviously lying.
“How about,” he grabs his chin in thought, “you raise the pay and I’ll consider it.”
“Ugh! So uncooperative,” you roll your eyes. Standing to your feet and walking to the kitchen, “I’ll wash up.”
“Least you could do, doll.”
“You know, a gentleman would cook and clean.”
Words playful with hidden meaning, “I’m not that gentle.”
Doing your best to ignore the implication of it, diligently cleaning up the mess he made in cooking for you. Your crush on him doesn’t show any signs of passing when you’re getting this close to him…
From then on—despite him saying he wouldn’t—Toji cooked for you on the odd occasion. Mostly, if he ran into you while coming or going he would invite you to his for a quick meal. Sometimes he ate with you, most times he just watched you, happy enough to observe you enjoy his simple but tasty meals.
He was right, he’s not a chef, but he has a lot of the basics down and can cook mostly anything with a recipe. There was even a time you brought up something you wanted to try and he made it for you after finding the recipe online. It had surprised you pleasantly and made your heart flutter, his innocent kindness causing you to have all kinds of fantasies about him.
It’s dangerous to keep letting yourself get close to him when you’re crushing on him so hard but you can’t stay away and he doesn’t really give you the option to either. Always flagging you down and catching your attention when he sees you, always with something smart and borderline flirty to say.
It’s late into the afternoon and you’re supposed to be leaving soon but you can smell something delicious coming from Toji’s apartment and you think to yourself that it’s probably a good idea to eat a little first, right? You mean, you are going out drinking with friends and doing that on an empty stomach isn’t a good idea.
After successfully talking yourself into it, you stand in front of his door and knock. Eagerly waiting for him to answer because whatever he’s cooking smells really good and you want some.
When he opens the door, he grins at you, “You dress up all pretty just to see me?”
Your heart skips a beat at the compliment, “Will you give me whatever you’re cooking if I say yes?”
“You’re like a stray cat, doll,” shaking his head at you as he leans against his door frame.
Smiling back up at him, “Are you the kind of person to feed stray cats?”
“I’ve been feeding you, haven’t I?” he counters, stepping to the side to let you in. “You going somewhere tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m going out drinking,” answer dismissive. Quickly shuffling over to his kitchen and changing the topic, joking with him, “What’s cooking good looking?”
Toji’s following behind you, asking carefully, “Who are you going out with?”
You pause at that, turning to face him with a smug smile, “Why? You worried about me?”
“Not even a little,” he denies, moving past you to tend to his dinner.
A small laugh passes your lips at him pretending not to care, “They’re just some friends from my classes.” You’re hovering near him now, “I thought I shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.”
“Did you have that thought before or after you smelt my dinner?”
“I feel that’s irrelevant.”
He chuckles at your statement, but he doesn’t complain. Having meals together has become common and you think you’re both enjoying the others company. Luckily for you, he feeds you well, having made a curry that had your eyes closing as you savoured it.
You’re running a little late, rushing out of his apartment only to be stopped at his door by him, “Give me your number.”
“Uh? What for?” You hadn’t swapped phone numbers yet, not really needing to seeming as you live right next door to each other. You’re not adverse to it, in fact you’re a little happy he’s asked but you’re confused on why now.
He pokes your forehead, “So if you need me, you can call me.”
Your hand reaches up and rubs a little at where he’d poked, “I’ll be fine… but okay.”
Toji puts your number into his phone with a promise of texting you so you can have his and then you’re rushing off. Not wanting to be later than you already are.
The bar your friends picked isn’t anything special but it’s got cheap drinks, you’re enjoying yourself and maybe drinking a bit more than you should. Who can blame you though? The drinks are good and study has been stressful. You should probably be paying more attention to the conversation but you’re too busy smiling to yourself while thinking about Toji.
At first you’d just had a passing crush but now…
Your friend waves her hand in front of your face, “You all there?”
“Mhm,” you mumble, a little giddy, “just thinking.”
“About?”
Lazily turning your head to the side to look at her, “That’s a secret~”
You don’t really feel like telling them about Toji, they don’t need to know about him… not yet. Maybe you should text him… you never did check the message he’d sent, too busy hauling ass to look.
Across the table, your other friend leans in with a knowing look on her face, “Thinking about a man?”
“Me?” you point at yourself, “not a chance,” and then you’re giggling because you’re lying.
A doubting noise comes from her and you’re poking your tongue out in return, a childish response but who said being an adult is fun. She rolls her eyes at you and you’re smiling all goofy.
Then you’re suddenly standing to your feet a little clumsily. Announcing, “I am going to go pee.”
“Now we and the whole bar know, thanks girl,” her head shakes at you as you strut off, not even a little concerned with other people.
You don’t go to the bathrooms, sneaking outside instead and checking your phone. Sure enough, Toji had texted you, message reading ‘be safe, doll.’ Three words and your heart’s fluttering in your chest, head fuzzy as you consider calling him.
Not even getting to really think all too hard about it before your thumb is pressing the call button. Staring dumb and surprised at your screen lighting up with the call, he picks up quickly and it takes you a few moments to kick into gear and respond to him.
“Hi~” it’s drawn out and lilted sugary sweet.
“Hi, doll,” he sighs, “do you need me?”
“In a way,” you giggle, not exactly thinking of the kind of help he’s offering.
His biceps make your mouth water, you have the insane urge to bite them whenever he crosses his arms at you. That’s probably an inside thought though.
“Did you hear me?”
Huh? Was he speaking?… “Yes?”
A grumble comes down the line and you know your attempt at lying has failed, “Where are you?”
“Outside a bar,” you hum back easily.
“The address, pretty,” he adds, “and go back inside.”
You give him the bar, it’s not that far from your apartment, “You should come get me~”
“Planning to,” you imagine he’s grinning, “go back inside… please.”
“Fine but not because you told me to…” you pretend to pout, “it’s dark out here.”
“I’ll be there soon.” And then the line goes dead.
You’re more agreeable in your inebriated state, heading back to your friends like he’d told you to and smiling dopily. Even though you’re leaving soon that doesn’t stop you from having more drinks with them, the conversation goes a little over your head but you continue smiling like you know what’s going on.
It isn’t until you spot Toji walking over to you that you realise you hadn’t told your friends who he was or that he was coming. You thought you had more time but maybe you’re a little too drunk to accurately judge the passage of time properly.
“Toji!” You wave at him, beaming like a fool, “You were super quick.”
Your friend leans a little closer to you, “Who is ‘Toji’?”
“He’s my hot neighbour,” speaking without thinking, “he’s gonna take me home.”
“You think I’m hot, doll?”
Turning to the side and blinking up, you notice Toji is right next to you now. That’s probably why your friend had lowered her voice when asking about him.
“I’m drunk not blind,” you squint at him.
“I can see as much,” he reaches his hand out to you, “ready to go?”
Taking his hand without hesitation, “Yesss.” Whipping around to your table quickly and feeling dizzy, “Woah…” small laugh leaving you, “I’m going now ladies, my personal chef is taking me home. I had funnn!” You snatch your bag up and perch it on your shoulder.
They both look to Toji, one of them adding, “Please, get her home safe.”
“Will do.”
You’re wobbly on your feet, knocking into him a little as you walk by his side. Insides feeling all hazy and buzzed from your multiple drinks and because he came to get you. You’ve become so incredibly fond of him, more fond than you probably should have. It feels a little embarrassing to be crushing so hard on him—or whatever this feeling is. Mostly because there isn’t a world where you feel it possible for him to like you back.
And even though you’re thinking like that, a part of you is still holding out hope because he treats you so kindly. He checks in on you, he cooks for you, and he flirts with you. At least it feels like flirting to you, but you don’t always have the best read on those kinds of things.
Toji’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “Watch where you’re walking, doll.”
“I amm,” you whinge, it’s a little hard though because everything feels like it’s swaying. Head dizzy as you struggle to walk straight.
“You’re doing an awful job at it.”
“Mean man… mean man who makes fun of a poor drunk girl,” frowning at the ground. You can’t look away from your feet or you might tip forward.
You must’ve been tipping forwards anyway though, because you feel his hand on your forehead tilting you back upright. “You’re such a handful.”
“You like that about me.”
Brow raising at you, “Oh, do I?”
“Mhm,” you hum easily, feeling lighter, you like talking to him. “You like that I like your cooking, and tell you when your outfits look stupid, and that I– woahh—”
Words falling short as you almost fall flat on your face, saved only by Toji’s incredible reaction time. His arm around your front as he sighs, “That’s it,” he groans. He moves ahead of you once he’s sure you’re not going to fall, his large back in front of your face. Kneeling and tapping over his shoulder, he says, “Get on.”
Your brain isn’t quite at the speed it usually operates on, “What?”
“C’mon, doll, my knees aren’t what they used to be.”
You snort a little laugh at that but you finally catch on to what he’s saying and climb onto his back, “You’re not that old, drama queen.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he brushes off, standing back to his full height.
His hands under your thighs are warm and so is his back, you can’t help yourself and all but snuggle into him. Face turned towards his neck, “You smell nice.”
“Pervert,” he jokes.
There isn’t much you remember about the trip after that, you might’ve been dozing a little with how comfortable Toji’s back was. Not regaining some awareness until you’re back in his apartment, your back is against something soft. Eyes hazily looking up at him in front of you, arms opening wide and waiting for him.
He looks at you quizzically but amused, “What’s this? You want a hug or something?”
“Yeah,” nodding back at him.
There’s a small moment of hesitation but he does lean in and hug you, he’s warm and makes you feel safe. Your face snuggles into him and a happy noise leaves you, murmuring something before you’re passing out.
The first thing you register when waking is the pounding headache, though instead of getting up to deal with it you’re rolling over in your bed for more sleep. The second thing you notice is that this is not your bed, sheets a boring grey and your favourite pillow missing. You sit up far too quickly and everything spins for a second, you probably shouldn’t have had those last drinks.
It doesn’t take you long to realise this is Toji’s room, the simplicity of the colours and sparseness gives it away. He doesn’t seem to have more than he needs, the room filled only with his bed and few bits of furniture. Not like you—you like your things—trinkets and what not decorating your space.
Ponderings cut short because you’re hit with memories of last night, unfortunately not the kind of drunk to forget everything. It’s not entirely embarrassing but you’re not exactly proud of how you behaved, especially since you’re pretty sure you told Toji you liked him before passing out in his arms.
You didn’t want to tell him that, at all, let alone while drunk. Thoughts coming unfiltered is already a problem you have around him in the first place, you were even worse while drunk. There’s something about him that possesses you to be a little bolder, to be a bit more of yourself and it’s entirely bit you in the ass.
The idea of facing him right now is mortifying. Nowhere close to being in the mood for him to jab at your crush on him, quite frankly only wanting to go home and shower. Your ideal plans for today are self-pity and trying to ignore your memories.
While debating with yourself about leaving this room, Toji knocks lightly on the door. You grumble a little to yourself and decide to walk over, pulling it open and looking up at him. You have no idea if you look as pathetic as you feel but you can’t possibly look good right now.
“Rise and shine,” he smirks.
You’re pouting, feeling sorry for yourself, “What time is it?”
When he notices your glum attitude, he drops the smile, “It’s past midday.”
“I’m… I’m gonna go home.”
“Not until you eat.”
You blink up at him, “You cooked for me?”
“I’m your personal chef, aren’t I?” he references your joke.
You can feel your eyes sparkle with unshed tears, you don’t even know why you’re so sensitive. Him cooking for you is so common now but you’re emotional, he took the time to care for you and it’s hitting you harder than it probably should.
Toji sighs at you a little, “Don’t cry, doll.”
“They’re tears of joy,” you don’t want to make this more awkward than it already is, “I’m just so happy my chef is doing his job.”
He can tell you don’t want to linger, “Just come get your damn food…” he starts walking off and then calls back, “and drink some water.”
As soon as he’s gone, you sneak into the bathroom and clean up a little bit. Washing your face to try and liven up some, you’re marginally successful. Cutting your losses and joining him at the table, eating will make you feel better… you hope.
“Thank you… for letting me stay,” you mumble out, sipping at the glass of water he gave you.
A soft and dismissive hum from him, “I would’ve took you home but you were too drunk to find your keys.”
“That’s stupid,” you comment, “my keys are in my bag.” And then you remember that you pretended not to know where they were, playing dumb to prolong your time with him. Looking through your bag and giggling about how you ‘could’ve swore you put them in here’.
His brow raises at you, “Uh huh.”
Your face feels hot and you choose to pay close attention to your pancakes instead of him, not wanting to steer the conversation any further into the direction of your behaviour. Afraid of the likelihood of your confession being rehashed.
Conversation is sparse after that, you’re usually the driving force behind it and you’re not feeling real chatty today. Though that’s not all from the embarrassment, your headache is still harassing your poor brain. Before you leave, you do try and help with the dishes but he refuses, telling you to go home and rest. His exact words had been, “Stop, you look like a kicked puppy, go nurse your hangover.”
Having been grateful for the opportunity to leave, you took it.
The weekend is spent doing exactly what Toji had told you to do, nursing your hangover, you also added feeling sorry for yourself to that. It’s embarrassing but the more time passes the more reluctant you are to run into him. Forgetting how you usually interact with him, questioning how you should act. You got too comfortable.
You’re avoiding him, you know you are, but you keep telling yourself that it’s accidental. You use your break from university as an excuse, you’re not leaving the house as often because you don’t need to. It’d work better if you hadn’t gotten so entangled with him, eating a meal with him every other day.
It’d also work better if you weren’t actively ignoring his texts… he hasn’t sent many but he has sent a few checking in. Even inviting you over for dinner, a flimsy excuse of having already eaten your only reply. He’d have to know that it wasn’t true, and even if you did eat, he’d know it’s not because you cooked something for yourself.
There isn’t much you can do for yourself at the moment, you need to let the feelings pass on their own but it doesn’t feel very possible. Maybe a few weeks ago but not now, not when you’re in this deep. You thought maybe a long, hot shower would help and it didn’t. You thought putting on your cutest pyjamas and pampering yourself would help, it didn’t. Now, you’re mindlessly consuming bad television in hopes that will help but you’re not feeling so confident.
Toji sure has some horrible timing, finally feeling like you might be able to forget about your drunk confession for a few minutes in favour of whatever drama is happening on screen. Only for him to knock at your front door, and you know it’s him because he grows frustrated and calls your name when you don’t answer after the first few knocks.
It’s barely been a week; he couldn’t leave you alone for a full week and it shouldn’t but it makes your heart flutter.
His voice calls out again, “I know you’re in there you brat, open the damn door.”
You’re staring at the door from your couch, truly considering ignoring him but you miss him. Also, he’s the persistent kind. You have no willpower; you note to yourself as you walk across the room. Cracking the door open enough to see him, uncharacteristically shy and quiet as you look up.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Nope, just been busy,” you lie, poorly.
“Oh?” he pushes back on the door and you’re not strong enough to stop him, “So, you don’t mind if I come in for a bit?” Not bothering to wait for your response and walking into your apartment anyway.
You try to say something, closing the door and about to start up a conversation but if falls short. Nothing coming to mind, nothing that will make this less uncomfortable than it already is.
Luckily for you—or maybe not—Toji talks first, “You know, I didn’t take you as the kind of girl to get drunk, sleep in a guys bed, and then ignore him for a week.”
Muttering back, “It hasn’t been a week.”
“Not yet but you’d drag it out that long, wouldn’t you?” He’s looking around your apartment, taking in your belongings.
“Drag what out?” Playing dumb.
“Whatever is going on with you,” clearly uninterested in being anything other than blunt. Walking over to your bookshelf and picking up an odd little figurine you’d bought on a whim. “What is this meant to be?”
“It’s just something I thought was cute.”
“If this is your taste your crush makes a little more sense.”
Almost choking at that, knowing him to be forward but not expecting him to be so honest right in that moment. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Give me some credit, doll,” he places the model back on the shelf and walks back to you, “even if you hadn’t drunkenly confessed to liking me you’ve not exactly been subtle.”
He’s so annoying, “Shut up, yes I have.”
A grin pulls across his face, like he’s caught you red handed, “So you do like me?”
“I never said that,” your arms cross over your chest.
“Yes, you did,” a step closer to you. “You got all clingy and waxed poetic about how nice I am and how I give such good hugs and how much you like me.”
Okay, you had no idea you’d said that much. Your face heats up with your embarrassment, remembering a little more now.
“It was cute,” he adds, “you’re a real sweet drunk.”
“Did you come here just to make fun of me?”
“Of course not, I came here to get pissed at you for ignoring me,” he grabs either side of your face with his hands, “but it’s annoyingly difficult to stay mad at you.”
And then he’s kissing you, all soft and sweet. Gentle in how he learns what you like, lips imploring yours. You kiss him back, how could you not? Letting him guide you through your first kiss together, humming pleasantly at it. He’s just full of surprises.
Not getting too lost in it though, stopping him before he attempts to deepen it. Hand on his chest pushing him back, “Hey! No. You don’t get to show up all annoyed at me and then tease me and then kiss me, that’s not fair.”
One of Toji’s hands slides down to your neck, his thumb stroking against your throat. It doesn’t even seem like he’s paying all that much attention to your words. He does reply though, “And what would be fair?”
“You have to tell me you like me back, otherwise I’m not kissing you.”
His eyes flick from your lips to your eyes at that, “I thought you liked me?”
“I have enough self-respect to not make-out with a guy who doesn’t even like me back.”
“You’re a little oblivious aren’t you?” He sighs, pulling you into a hug, “I’m not letting just anyone become a pain in my ass.”
That doesn’t satisfy you, so you look up at him and frown.
He chuckles at that, “I like you.”
“Really?”
“A lot,” he replies, already leaning in to take your lips with his again.
He really does know just what to say—when he’s not teasing you that is. His mouth on yours is more urgent this time, tongue licking against your lower lip and asking for entrance. You give it willingly, feeling him lick into your mouth. It’s a good kiss, you didn’t know it could feel this good to be kissed.
You’re moving impossibly closer to him, his hands on your waist tug you in as you do. He’s groaning against your lips as your arms loop around his neck. Using your nails to drag through the hair at the base of his scalp, able to feel the shiver that runs through him with it.
Toji slips his hands under your shirt to rest against your bare skin, pulling at you a little. His hands are warm and feel nice, you’d probably let him touch you anywhere. Head foggy as you fall further into his lips, thinking of nothing but how good this feels, how happy you are that he likes you back.
Wait. You pull back from him again and he groans, upset that he’s not kissing you anymore. “You said you like me.”
“Hmm,” he nods, pecking the corner of your lips. He’s doing his best to pay attention but he knows what he’d much rather be doing right now and he feels he’s made that clear.
“You also said you knew that I liked you before my…”
When you don’t continue, he finishes, “Before your drunken little confession, yeah.”
Your face heats up at that, “So, you were just letting me act all stupid and unsure on my own?”
A sigh leaves him and his forehead rests against yours, “I thought I was gonna be able to take my time,” he kisses you slow before adding, “you ruined that by confessing and then trying to run from me.”
Somewhat sulking, “I didn’t run.”
“Whatever you say, doll,” he agrees all too easily.
Clearly just an attempt to placate you enough so he can kiss you again, it works. Smoothly picking you up and walking over to your couch, lips parting when he’s letting you fall onto it. You’re expecting him to join you but he’s instead dropping to his knees between your legs, hands spreading you open.
“Toji,” you squeak, trying to close them.
“I’m always feeding you, doll,” he presses hot kisses to your inner thigh, “it’s my turn to eat.”
His mouth opening for messier kisses, lightly sucking on your sensitive skin as he goes. Teasing you, licking and nipping at you just to work you up a little more. Your twitching thighs bring a smile to his face.
“Reactive little thing, aren’t ya?” he comments.
“Shut up,” you whinge, embarrassed.
Soft chuckle leaving him, “Don’t be shy.”
His pointer finger rubs between your folds over the top of your sleep shorts, wolfish grin on his face at how you mewl with it. And Toji can already tell he’s going to love teasing you, he’s going to revel in how pathetic you get. Already achingly hard in his pants, just from a bit of kissing and petting.
You frown at him but his eyes are set intently on your pussy, “Are you going to be like this the whole time?”
“Like what?” he asks, dragging his finger up to your clit and pressing a little harder.
A small, subdued sound leaves you at his touch, “Like an unbearable tease.”
“Oh, like that?” he hums and hooks his finger through the crotch of your shorts, slowly dragging them down your legs. “Probably,” definitely.
“So– hah—” his warm hand is pressed wholly over your cunt now, palm grinding against you, the material of your underwear adding a delicious kind of friction. “Nothing– hnn– nothing different from usual then.”
He tuts at your statement, “I’ve been nothing but accommodating to you, pretty.” He hooks into your panties like he did your shorts, “These are cute.”
You hadn’t worn them for him, coloured light and soft, little ribbon on the front. They’re your favourite and cutest, comfiest pair and they were supposed to make you feel better about confessing to him. Now, you really just want him to take them off. But he’s cruel and teasing, letting go of them and letting them snap back to your pussy.
It makes you jolt, twitching desperately around nothing. You’re so turned on and the sight of him on his knees, all smirky and low lidded eyes, it’s not helping. Able to feel the way fresh slick drools into your panties, pitifully wet for him and he’s not doing anything satisfying enough.
“Toji, could you please stop teasing me?”
“Nice manners, doll,” he compliments like he’s proud of you.
Your hand reaches to press back on his forehead, “Don’t patronise me.”
“I’m sorry,” though he doesn’t look it, “what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to take off my underwear.”
“I suppose I can manage that,” he replies, amused because he’s successfully baited you into asking for what he wanted.
This time, when he hooks his finger through your panties, he actually pulls them off. Tucking them into the pocket of his pants without you noticing, you’re too distracted by the fact that he’s already rubbing tight little circles into your clit with his thumb.
Damn near touch starved as he finally touches you directly, relief and white-hot pleasure burning through your whole body. Legs relaxing open a little, begging for more of his touch. Toji hums in approval, teeth biting into your thigh.
You hadn’t even noticed he’d moved in closer and you’re still not fully registering it because he’s all too quickly replacing his thumb with a hard lick against your whole pussy. Hands moving to your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders, form being tugged towards the edge of the couch.
It all happens so fast and is immediately good, it has your head spinning. Hand in his hair for something to hold onto, needing something to keep you grounded. He’s far too good at this, thighs shaking beside his head as he laps eagerly at your gooey cunt.
Dragging his tongue from your hole back to your clit rhythmically, the repeated motion has your orgasm building so unfortunately quick. You’re embarrassed about it but it’s his fault, he’d taunted you with barely anything and now he’s touching you so much and you’re loving it.
What’s ruining you even more is the fact that he seems to be enjoying himself so much. Moans muffled into your pussy, heated eyes watching your every reaction. His tongue sliding inside your hole, caressing you fervently. The sounds of him eating you out wet and obscene, making a mess of your cunt and his face.
Toji’s going borderline insane, high on the taste of you, on the sight of you. Your shivering form so pliant under his touch, opening yourself up completely to him with just a little bit of encouragement. Dick leaking precum into the front of his boxers, he can feel the way the material is sticking to him wetly.
A few more firm licks to your cunt and you’re cumming so sweetly for him. Flooding his mouth with your essence and he’s gulping it down lewdly, groaning against you because he can’t believe he’s got his mouth on you right now. Making out with your pussy until you’re shaking with overstimulation. Whining pitifully at him and pushing his head back, the whimpers of your sensitivity is like music to his ears.
“Oh my god– hng– Toji– hah– too much,” you’re trying to close your legs but you’re only trapping his head.
A grin is on Toji’s lips, you can feel how his mouth curves upwards. Still barely willing to part from your crying cunt but showing you mercy anyways. Prying your legs apart so he can pull back and it has you whimpering, sensitivity off the charts. His lips and chin shiny with your slick, pupils blown wide with his lust.
“That nearly makes up for you ignoring me,” licking his lips before lifting the hem of his shirt up and using it to wipe his face.
Your breathing is finally starting to even out a bit, “You’re insane.”
“Only for the taste of you,” he jokes, lifting himself off his knees and choosing to just dispose of the shirt completely.
It pulls your attention, his abs defined and all too tempting. His pecs making your mouth water, feeling a little desperate to touch him, maybe bite him a little. You’re a little surprised to find you’re still blazing with need, picturing how he’ll fuck you. Eyes trailing down his body to find his erection pressed firmly against his pants, just asking to be freed.
“Distracted?”
“Not even a little,” though you have to put a bit of an effort into looking in his eyes.
“Uh huh, I’m sure,” he sits down beside you and pats his lap a few times, waiting patiently for you.
“You know…” you crawl over to him, straddling his thighs, “I’m a little weak in the legs for this.”
Chuckle leaving him, “Dramatic as usual.”
You’re feeling so much more malleable after your orgasm, head tilting a little as you hum back. His hands glide up your sides, pulling your shirt up with them. You don’t even notice him dropping it to the floor, already buzzing from him groping your tits. Mouth leaving kisses and little nips to your collar bones.
“We can stop,” he offers, sucking your skin, “if you’re too tired.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“My bad, doll,” hand trailing south, two digits slipping into your dripping cunt, “forgot how needy you are.”
“I’m– hng– I’m not needy,” you half-heartedly grumble at him, “you’re just a tormenter.”
But the slick squelching sounds of his fingers dragging from your pussy, only to fuck back in quickly sing a tune of contradiction; agreeing with him instead of you. You’re folding forwards into him, forehead resting on his shoulder as he touches you with only the intent of making you crazy.
“Listen to that,” he sighs, letting the wet slapping of his palm against your clit do more of the talking. “You’re so fucking wet, messy girl.”
You only mewl back, his digits crooked and stroking your walls too perfectly for you to be bothered with another half-hearted denial. Denial that wouldn’t even hold up anymore anyways, cunt drooling lewdly down his wrist. Hot walls snug and taking him so well, almost greedy. The need he accuses you of shown blatantly when your hips rock against his hand. Trying and failing to ride his fingers how you want.
“You must want it bad, huh.” It’s phrased like a question but doesn’t quite come out like one, more of a statement than anything else.
When his teeth graze over your shoulder and bite down you’re nodding back quickly in reply. Babbling out, “Yes, yes– hnn– I wan– hah– want it, Toji.”
“Yeah, I know, doll,” he licks over the bite mark he’s just left behind, “cum again and I’ll give it to you.”
You’d complain about it being impossible if you weren’t already almost there. Always so much more sensitive and exceptionally easy after your first orgasm. Shivering around his fingers as he eases you open with them, scissoring them apart.
Toji moans at how your slick splatters onto his palm and dribbles down his wrist, you’ve finished only once and you’re so unbelievably creamy that he’s feeling ravenous. Dick reacting so viscerally to everything about you, if he’s being honest, he’s afraid he’s about to jizz in his pants. He hasn’t been this horny for a while and he’s handling it worse than he thought he would.
Distracting himself by leaving all kinds of marks on your upper half with his mouth, he’ll get dizzy if he focuses on your pussy too much. The thought of sitting balls deep inside your tight, little hole has his dick weeping precum. If he thought a little harder about it, he’d definitely cum.
He’s feeling a little needy himself, tugging your head back and stifling all your cute sounds with his mouth. Kiss hot and urgent, messy in how he seeks you out with his tongue. Both of you moaning into it. He has to fight back a smile at how you paw at him, kisses growing messier and burning, you’re close.
So close, another stroke against your g-spot and palm slap to your clit has you completely falling apart on his fingers. Making out with him through it, seeking his lips like he’d deprived you of his kisses for an eternity. The orgasm you experience is head spinning ecstasy, shattering the very core of your being. You’ve never cum that hard before and you certainly weren’t expecting to in this moment.
Fingers coaxing you through it until you’re whimpering at him, body slumping against him as your muscles go slack. Already feeling severely fucked out and he’s not even properly fucked you yet. And by the feel of his cock against you, it’s a lot to take. Warmth spreading through your tummy at the thought and making you clench around nothing.
“Can I put it in, pretty?” he asks and it comes out a little more desperate than he was aiming for but it’s not nearly packed with the amount of desperation he’s currently experiencing.
And even in your semi fucked out state, you joke back, “I don’t know, can you?”
Toji snorts a little as he pulls his dick from his pants, swiping his tip through your folds. “May I please put it in, princess?” he corrects.
The way his cock rests at your entrance, the slightest amount of pressure, it has you folding, “You may.”
“Well thank you,” and then he’s opening you up with his big dick.
In this moment, you are beyond grateful that he took the time to carefully prepare you for this big stretch. Still feeling like you’re being split open by his sheer size. Tears in the corners of your eyes because you’re so overstimulated, head spinning as you take in his length inch by delicious inch.
He’s not fairing much better than you, as soon as you’re properly sitting on him he’s cumming a little. Teeth digging into his lower lip as he moans, embarrassed that he’s already ejaculated, even if it’s only a little. His arms wrap around you and hold you tight, needing you to stay so still for him.
Maybe that’s a mistake on his part though because he can feel so clearly how you’re trembling around him. Your gooey walls so silky smooth and warm, dripping so wet and divine he can hardly think. Fighting off his orgasm through pure willpower alone. Distracting himself with leaving hickeys on your collarbone, biting at where your shoulder meets your neck. The way you shudder and your pussy convulses has another moan pulling from his chest.
“You feel fucking divine,” he groans, hips starting to grind up into you.
You’re reeling, head spinning so fast and feeling wobbly from pleasure. Your cunt is throbbing around him and you can feel how you gush as your arousal heightens. He’s stretching you open perfectly, veins thumping against your slick walls.
Unable to hold back and raising your hips off of him, just to slam them back down. Doing your best to ride him how you’re aching to, the filthy sounds of sloppy fucking reverberating around the room. Toji’s letting you move on your own, hands resting on your thighs but not doing anything else.
He’s feeling completely over the moon, your movements painfully adorable to him. Not to mention incredibly pleasurable, pussy sucking him back in greedily. Your urgency endears him, enjoying how you struggle to hit all your best spots, the sounds of your moans all pitchy and desperate. Right where he wants to be, he wants to see how long you’ll manage this pace before you’re begging him for help.
It's good but not enough, moving so you can slot your mouth over Toji’s. Kissing him deep and feeling it deep inside you when he grabs the back of your head and kisses you back just as fervently. Hips still bouncing on top of him, rutting yourself down against him every time you meet his pelvis, stimulating your clit
You’re warm and floaty and getting close to hitting your high again but your thighs are shaky and your movements are slowing down. It’s got you whining into his mouth with slight frustration, a pathetic little noise that you wish hadn’t come out as clearly as it did because you just know he’s going to use it against you.
Parting your lips but kept connected by a string of saliva, it snaps when you whinge, “Don’t speak.”
His eyes flash as he grins back at you, “Didn’t say anything, doll.”
“You– hng– you were gonna.”
“What– hah– would I say?” his head tips back, watching you through low lidded eyes, admiring how you move, “maybe something about that cute sound you just made?”
“Only if you were mean.”
Humming back at you, hand sliding up your side, “We both know I can be a little mean.”
“Be nice– hnn– to the woman riding you, Toji,” placing your hands on his shoulders for the extra leverage.
“I’ll be so nice and offer her my help,” both hands gripping your hips now.
Your own trail down his body, delighting in how firm he is, always wanting to touch him all over, “Go on then,” you smile, “offer.”
“Brat,” he complains, though still smiling. “Do you want my help? Want me to fuck you hard and fast? Hit all those spots you’re desperately trying to?”
Your pussy reacts to him, twitching a little. “Please?”
“I like that,” he squeezes your hips, “beg a little more, pretty?”
“Toji,” pouting at him.
“Yeah, yeah.” He doesn’t want to push his luck; he knows how stubborn you can get.
He shifts a little, sitting up a bit more, feet flat to the floor. And that’s all the warning you get before his thrusts are harsh and quick, nearly knocking the wind out of you. He’s practically using you as his own fuck-toy, easily pulling you off his cock just to ram right back in. It’s devastating, eyes rolling as you let yourself be taken by him.
Toji’s teeth are digging into his lower lip, brows furrowed as he repeatedly sheathes himself inside you as deep as you can take it. You’re so pliant and responsive, sensitivity up to the absolute max after how he played with you. He’s in heaven, the desire to have you like this, to touch you all over, he’s practically wanted it since the first time he laid eyes on you.
You’re a perfect vision and he’s in love with how you’re falling apart, so quick to react, to get off. The fact he can tell how much he turns you on, can feel how you twitch every time he speaks to you, how you get a little wetter when he teases or your eyes meet, it’s ruining him. So easy to read and it makes it all the better for him, to know you want him just as bad as he wants you elevates everything he’s experiencing.
“Toji– hng– there! I’m gonna– ah!– if you keep—”
“—Here?” he asks, tip kissing your cervix.
You’re slack jawed and nodding back at him, eyes rounded and on the verge of shedding sparkling tears. Lungs seizing in your chest as you start tensing up, orgasm on the tip of your tongue.
And because Toji is cruel, he teases, “Or here?” Thrusts slowing, angled differently.
Hands clenched into fists by his shoulders, whimpering at him sadly, “Toji.”
“You wanna cum?” and when you nod back he nods with you, mocking. “Beg for it then.”
You want it too bad to complain at him, you have a feeling that he’s aware of that. “Please, Toji,” blinking at him. Moving in closer so your lips hover over his, “Please– hng– let me– hff– cum, I need it.”
“Let me help you out,” he coos like he wasn’t actively preventing your orgasm.
He gives you what you begged for, dick back to hitting exactly where you need it, stroking you to insanity. You’re cumming so quickly, as soon as he stops edging you with torturous thrusts you’re creaming around his cock. He fucks you through it, keeping you in euphoria as you shake and shiver through it.
You’ve barely come down before he’s pulling out of you and manhandling your limp form so you’re stomach down on the couch. Toji undresses himself the rest of the way and he thinks it may be the quickest he’s ever gotten his pants off.
Large body above yours and lips by your ear, “You still with me, doll?”
“Uh huh.”
“Good,” he fucks back into you from above, “Fuuuck– hff– cause I’ve not cum yet.” A little lie but he doesn’t think you noticed that he’s already cum a little bit.
The sensation is different in the prone bone position, his dick hitting a different spot. Your moan is long and drawn out, breaking into a little whimper when his hands press into your lower back. He manages to fuck in a little deeper because of it, hole welcoming him in hungrily. You’re stuffed so full and loving every second of it.
Brain buzzing, thoughts starting and ending with Toji and how good it feels for him to plunge into you. Blissed out on your multiple orgasms and still feeling so good, senses overwhelmed by every jolt of pleasure he delivers to you. Mewling with every thrust, cunt drooling saccharine sweet around him.
Toji’s eyes watch gratefully at the drag of his cock in and out of your snug hole, creamy white ring around his shaft. It’s not going to take him long to cum but he’s doing his best to hold off, he just wants to see if he can get you to finish again. Wants to see clearly how you coat his dick in your juices. He feels a bit perverted, or maybe feral, but he can’t help himself.
“You’re– hff– you’re so cute, you know that, doll?” his affection for you getting the better of him, “downright adorable,” his pelvis bounces off your ass with a particularly sharp buck of his hips, “especially when you’re taking me so well.”
You can’t reply to him, too busy drooling onto your couch cushion. When you’ve sobered up and are no longer cock drunk, you’ll get mad at him for fucking you so messy on the couch. You nearly go cross eyed when he slams against your g-spot, choking on your own moans.
“That feel good?” he asks, excitement not even a little bit hidden. “Sounded like it felt good.”
If Toji’s anything, he’s relentless. Fucking you into the couch, repeatedly driving into that one spot. He knows you’re close, he can feel it. Brimming with so many feelings and immense pleasure that he doesn’t know what to do with it all, leaning down to bite your shoulder for a third time tonight. He’d stop doing it if you didn’t seem to like it so much, your pussy squeezing him lovingly.
The dull pain of his teeth imprinting your soft skin makes you tingle, cunt spasming as you cum again. Feet kicking a little through it, walls gripping him tight and attempting to milk his own orgasm out of him. Lucky for you, it works. Toji’s coming with a bitten-out moan, hips slamming against your ass and holding tight against you. He refuses to pull out or move, cumming inside your warm walls. Load dumped deep inside you, filling your womb in a way that makes him almost whine.
You’re so out of it, feeling like you’re floating, or maybe barely conscious. Limbs like jelly as you lay there with Toji’s dick stuffed inside your still twitching hole. He lowers himself a little more, using his forearms to hold himself up so he doesn’t squash you under his weight. The two of you lay like that for a while, not that you think you could move if you really wanted to.
He presses a kiss to the temple of your head, “Let’s wash up.”
“Can’t move,” you mumble back.
“I’ll do all the work for you,” he huffs, “like usual.”
“As you should.”
“Mhm,” he sits up and watches closely as he pulls out of you. His own cum dripping back out of you and onto the couch. He came a lot, his load making a sloppy mess of you and now your couch.
He refrains from teasing you about how messy you’re being, instead carefully collecting you into his arms. You cling to him as he walks the short distance from your lounge to the bathroom. In fact, you’re clinging to him the whole time. Far too shaky and uncertain about your ability to hold yourself up to let go of him. It makes it a bit hard for him to start the shower but he manages.
Your back is resting against his front as his hands pass over your soaped up body, “Aren’t you glad you got drunk and confessed?” he jokes, just to stir the pot a bit.
“Aren’t you glad you cooked for me,” you reply lazily, feeling far too good to get riled up right now.
“You’re much more docile after a few orgasms,” hands slowly creeping upwards.
“Imagine that.”
Your tits are enveloped by his palms, groping lewdly at your slippery skin. “Don’t have to.”
“You’re going to kill me, Toji,” you whine, jolting when he pinches your nipples.
The laugh he lets out can be felt through your back from where he’s pressed against you. His hands drifting back down to hold you by your waist, “Still dramatic though.”
Once you’re both out the shower, he helps you dry off and change into something warm. He wears clothes that are oversized on you and still far too small for him to wear comfortably. Even though he lives right next door, he doesn’t leave, choosing to stay in the ill-fitting clothes.
You’re relaxing on your bed comfortably, dozing a bit. You’d have fallen asleep if Toji hadn’t come back in and woken you up with his judgement. “The state of your fridge is abysmal,” he pokes at your cheek, “we’ll have to eat at mine.”
You reach up and make grabbing motions at him.
“What? You want a hug or something?” large smile on his face.
Nodding happily back at him, “Yeah.” Food can wait for later, for now, Toji will hold you close in your bed and you’ll reply lazily to whatever conversation he’s trying to carry with you.
α.η. i finally finished !!! i was supposed to finish this like literally over a year ago for my old blog but better late than never i guess ( ⸝⸝´ ᵕ `⸝⸝) thanks for reading !! and i hope you guys enjoyed !!
also if you're curious, i made the banner on powerpoint ^^
꒰꒰. all works are the intellectual property of aliienangel .. do not plagiarise/translate/reupload/feed to ai ♡. 。
▶ Munchies.ᐟ
synopsis :: the type of eaters the jjk men are
content :: MDNI, Nanami + Toji x fem!reader (seperate), Sukuna x reader x Gojo, oral (f.receiving), overstimulation, Shiu listening in and jerking off, threesome, Sukugo being gay
Reupload from old blog (bluukive). Helped by @coralbae as always ty bestie
header :: it's my sale assistant's fault that my new publication is XXX.
▶ Nanami :: ꒰ over eater! ꒱
One orgasm, two orgasm, three orgasm, four.
Was your husband Nanami Kento capable of drawing out anymore?
The blonde was known for being rather composed. He was the ideal man, the ideal partner — but you seemed to be the cause of his unravelling. How could he not be so utterly enraptured by his darling wife, who was currently spread out before him on their shared bed?
Nanami was nose deep in your pussy, the lower half of his face soaked in your juices as he ate you out with vigour. Hours had bled into each other, and you were writhing from overstimulation.
"F-forgive me, my love," Nanami crooned into your pussy, grinding the firm slope of his nose against your clit. "But I can't stop."
"I-it's been hooouurs, Ken," you sobbed, words drawn out as your husband began shaking his head from side to side.
The grip you had on his hair tightened, eliciting a muffled grunt as a pleasurable spark of pain bloomed over his scalp. Nanami's slurping only grew more frantic — causing your back to bow into that beautiful arch your husband had spent hours worshipping.
"I know, I know. But don't you feel good? Tell me you feel good, please."
Words failed you, and you slapped a palm over your mouth when Nanami began pumping two long fingers in and out of you the same time he sucked your clit into his mouth. The lines of his cheeks deepened as he hollowed them out, his cock leaking profusely onto the sheets.
He was doing this on purpose, the fiend.
"No, don't do that," he muttered, breaking off momentarily to pin your wrists together with one of his hands. "Don't hide from me."
"I f-feel good. I feel sososo good, Ken— oh, I think I'm going to cum again—!"
"All over me now. That's it."
With a garbled cry, you came — a hot wave of pleasure settling deep inside you before spreading to the rest of your body. Nanami continued lapping up your wetness, eyes squinted as you squirted all over his face.
He was panting much like you were, the taste of his wife spreading over his aching tongue.
Something wet hit his tensed stomach, his own cum as he came in thick ropes at the sight of his wife cumming beneath him. But Nanami couldn't focus on that, shuddering when you tried to tug him off of you. "Please… I don't think I have another orgasm in me."
Lick!
"No? Not even one more for your dear husband?"
"Ngh…fine, just one more…"
▶ Toji :: ꒰ noisy eater! ꒱
Slap. "I'm on the phone, keep it down." Slap. "Quit your whining."
"Y-you asshole!"
Toji chuckled, low and gruff as he put his phone on speaker. Shiu was somewhere across the city, sitting in the darkness of his car with the phone to his ear. His pants were tented at the crotch, and he could only pretend like he didn't know what was going on on the other end of the line.
Pwah!
Toji gathered a thick wad of saliva in his mouth and spat down onto your cunt, the moisture splattering onto your inner thighs. His aim was impeccable on any other day, so there was no doubt in your mind that the man between your legs was only putting a show for this handler.
"You've gone quiet," Toji grunted to Shiu, lowering his lips until his tongue reached your abused clit. Having prodded at the pert nub once, then twice — he soon grew bored and deciding to slurp down, a lecherous grin on his scarred mouth when you cried out.
Slap.
He slapped your thigh again, warning you to keep quiet as he ate you out. Shiu's voice was barely audible over the noises of Toji's tongue rolling over your pussy, his legs parting as a hand travelled down to adjust his slacks.
"Sounds like you're… busy, Fushiguro. Want me to call later?"
"Yes," you whisper-shouted, before your words were cut off with a low cry. Toji spat down again, lapping the mess back up into his greedy mouth and gulping audibly.
"No," Toji leered, bringing the phone even closer. "If you've got something to say, do it now."
A pitiful noise left you at that, and you tried closing your legs. Toji was having none of it — doubling down on his efforts as Shiu listened to him delve his tongue inside you with a wet squelch.
The handler listened as you chanted Toji's name, all pitched and breathy. He wanted nothing more than to watch him go down on you, maybe even join himself just so he could elicit some pretty noises out of you himself.
"Shit," Shiu muttered, looking out of the window before palming himself, noting that the coast was clear. Toji could only snort, knowing full well what his handler was doing. After all, who wouldn't get aroused at the sound of a pretty thing like you singing out for him?
The wet, obscene sounds of Toji's tongue digging into your clenching hole filled Shiu's speaker, mixing with your stuttering whimpers and gasps. "Fuck, Fushiguro," he rasped, voice strained as he rutted slowly into his palm. "Really going at it, huh?"
Your boyfriend pulled back enough to chuckle, lips slick with your arousal. With another broad lick to the expanse of your cunt, he answered.
"Yeah, she's dripping down my chin."
He didn't bother hiding anymore, phone to your pussy as he spread you open with two thick fingers. You hid your face in your palms out of embarrassment, a fierce heat spreading over your face all the way to the tips of your ears as he inspected your wetness, your clenching hole, your pert clit.
"Gets like this when 'm being mean to her," he breathed, warm air fanning over your pussy. Your hips bucked upwards, seeking stimulation despite the fact another man was listening in, probably jerking off at the imagery of you spread out and writhing.
A beep broke the immersion around you and your boyfriend, making him lift his head up for the nth time — sticky webs of your wetness joining your pussy to his sharp chin.
Shiu was requesting a video call, pumping at his freed cock with a wet hand.
Toji could only swipe his phone across the screen, bringing the image of his handler to life as he watched, and eventually came in time with you.
▶ Sukuna + Gojo :: ꒰ competitive eaters! ꒱
"Stop licking at my tongue, you freak," Sukuna scowled, tugging the back of Satoru's head and lifting him off of your pussy. The latter gasped for air, trying to shove the pink-haired man away with a coy grin.
Satoru shook his head. "The cutie down there seems to like it. Look at her," he marvelled, spreading your plump folds open with a thumb. Your hole winked back up at them, begging for their attention. You rolled your eyes, catching your breath after the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure they were both aiming directly onto your clit.
"Stop bickering for once and eat me out already," you chastised, glaring at Sukuna until he let go of the other man. "I want to cum."
Satoru was back on you like a magnet, hips rutting down onto the sheets as he dragged his tongue between your folds. His tongue even plunged in and out of you, coaxing out filthy moans from him as you clenched wildly around him.
Sukuna watched, seemingly angered by the way Satoru was hogging you all to himself.
"Mmh, that's it, 'toru. Your tongue feels sooo good," you cooed obnoxiously, knowing it'd feed into his praise kink — and Sukuna's competitive streak. Satoru whined happily into your pussy, lathering it in his saliva and kissing your clit affectionately.
Sukuna pushed him off.
His tongue wasn't as kind, bullying its way into your hole until you were crying out from the intrusion. Your legs trembled around his pierced ears as he ate you out frantically — as if he was trying to rid your cunt of any trace of Satoru, who was currently trying to barge into Sukuna's bulky shoulder.
To no avail, of course.
Sukuna was a biiig man, and he was dead set on making you cry out for him. No one else. You keened, kicking out your leg and looking at Satoru with teary eyes — desperately hoping for him to play the role as your knight in shining armour.
The pleasure was too much, with the man between your thighs sucking the entirety of your cunt into your mouth. He pulled off of you with a filthy pop before diving in with triple the enthusiasm.
Satoru wasn't there to save you that time. Instead, he flashed you a smirk before parting your thighs even wider. Your muscles screamed out in protest before his tongue joined Sukuna's, the ache in your joints quickly forgotten.
"Don't look at me. You're the nasty slut who called us both for a hookup."
"I-it was an accident. Didn't mean to double book."
Sukuna's brows knitted in the middle, tongue stilling. Somehow, you were worse than him — at least he was able to keep track of his booty calls.
He didn't even care that his tongue was gliding against Satoru's, the two coming silently coming together to make you cum all over their mouths — which you eventually did. Satoru was back to humping the bed again, Sukuna having pushed his face into your pussy.
He felt at home there, as odd as it was to say. He didn't even care that you were a two-timer, groaning aloud when you squirted all over his face and Sukuna's. Sukuna didn't give up on his ministrations, punishing you with his mouth as it worked against you — bringing you further into the pits of overstimulation.
"N-no, guys— wait—"
"Wait for what? Another guy?" Satoru teased, fingers digging around in your pussy. You spasmed around him, Sukuna having directed his attention to your poor clit again. Shame hit you like a truck, your head shaking as you tried to crawl back from their mouths. With a deliberate yank to your ankle, Sukuna tugged you back down the bed.
"Don't know why you're running now. If you're going to be greedy, you sit there and take it."
"Precisely," Satoru chimed in, glancing down at Sukuna's pierced cock when he sat up and pumped himself — eager to bully himself inside of you.
The pink-haired man shook his head in clear disapproval and slapped away Satoru's grabby hands making a beeline for his dick, but the way the rosy hue on his cheeks deepened a fraction said everything. "Don't even think about it."
"Please?"
"…fine. But I'm not gay."
context: Dottore might be a little tiny bit obsessed with you, he’s a bit of a psycho
genre: smut, nsfw
warnings/content: stalking, sensitive topic (unconscious reader, yeah… i know), somnophilia, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), slight fingering, voyeurism, obsession, drugs implied (sigh), a bit sadistic ey
a/n: so basically i’m not very proud of this one but i thought as a fatui, Dottore was pretty much one of the worst partners in terms of sanity and uhm… i felt like this is his thing and it needs to be written. ehem. enjoy I guess. also i didn’t reread it that much so i’m deeply sorry if theres typos or illogical things. hehe.
likes, rb and comments are appreciated, thank you lovelies ♡
You know how crazy and deranged Dottore has always been. Not to mention how obsessed he is with you and your delicate anatomy.
Always staring at you in awe when you choke on a scrub of your food or a drink you were so thirsty for. He loves to see the despair in your eyes for air and how you cough to make the ache go away.
Always watching you sleep, counting how many seconds pass between your inhaling, his cock twitching every time it comes a second or two later.
Always standing nearby to have a sight of your body under the shower, never wary enough to check around you to catch his presence and the smile on his face. Oh he loves to see the soap run down your body, mind too imaginative to not picture all this being his cum running down your skin.
And just when you start getting closer, something shifts in him. He’s done being a spectator of your life. He wants to get in, be part of it.
So when you invite him over he knows he’ll do it. He’ll have to, whether you want it or not. Call it whatever you want but you were always his and he’ll have to make sure your body knows if not your mind.
Dottore waits for the right moment, catching every smile you shoot at him in appreciation. Oh, you’re so adorable. So vulnerable and innocent.
And he’s all the things you’re not. A complete freak, a psychopath ready to hurt you if he can’t get what he wants from you in kindness. He’ll hurt you. He swears he will.
He needs just a minute, enough for you to get up and go get him a glass of the fine drink you offered him to taste. One that you discovered just lately by chance at the store down the street.
He gets up to keep you in his line of sight, rummaging in his bag for the tiny bottle he prepared just for you, and a piece of cloth. A glove on his hand and he spills the chemical on it with a satisfied smile.
Dottore loves to hear your voice yap about just anything that comes through your mind. Your day, the weather, what happened at your friend’s birthday, the wedding you’re attending next week. Fucking hell you just tell him everything, everything he already knows about.
It all gives him enough time to circle a hand around your waist. His cock twitches at the sound of your voice hiccuping in surprise, suddenly trapped between him and the counter where your drinks stay. Drinks that will stay here for most of the night surely.
He giggles, placing his chin over your shoulder and when you start pushing him away as nicely and politely as you can — just how he thought you’d do — his hand comes up to cover your mouth and nose.
He swears he could cum in his pants at how your adorable strength tries to squirm out of his grip. So lively, so full of determination.
Your hand trying to grab his face in an attempt to press a spot that would make him let go instinctively but the scent and effect of the chemical gets to mind faster than you can react.
“shh, shh, it’s okay, it’ll be over in a few seconds”
He sounds already foggy and way too calm to your ears when the words fall out his smiling lips.
“chloroform will do the work, just breathe in f’me”
A few seconds and you’re going numb in his hold, at his mercy. Your fighting ceases, your whimpers of fear cease, and your breathing under his arm around your waist is slowly becoming steady and relaxed.
“I’ll take good care of you”
He smirks, too satisfied to be able to have you all to himself, your mind too intoxicated to refuse him anything. Your body is just like his subjects, just an empty body for him.
When he sets you down over your bed, limp and asleep — because all he can see is how close the flutter of your eyes is to the ones you do when you’re deep asleep.
Not even an ounce of him feels guilty when he pulls your pants and panties down, spreading your legs so gently. He handles you like a collectionner about to pin a butterfly to an empty frame. So delicate and beautiful.
He looms over your figure, inhaling your scent in the crook of your neck like a maniac.
“Mmh, divine”
He whispers his actions as if you were one of his experiments, but your body will be his clipped paper where he’ll write down all the filthy work he’ll do.
Dottore leans back on his heels and knees, staring down at the pink folds spreading with the movement of your thighs. Studying the functionality of how your pussy opens for him like he used to study the reflexes of frogs in biology.
He moans at the sight, his breath melting into pants — his cock pulsating at the mere sight of your body. He knows it’s not right, it’s not right to do that while you’re unconscious.
Oh how he would have loved to see your eyes widen in terror while he discovers your body but he has to admit it’s easier this way.
Two digits find your folds, spreading your lips in curiosity. It’s so pretty, so soft and well done. How can pussy be such a piece of art in anatomy.
He pushes your legs up to your chest, lowering his face over your heat. His nose grazes your clit, causing your body to jolt, and it makes him scoff.
He didn’t know this could work like this. Or did he not wait enough on the chemicals for you to be deep asleep ? Are you just pretending to be unconscious ? No. Surely not.
His nose nuzzles over your clit again, inhaling your scent — hell, you smell so good.
He laps his tongue flat over your folds, a mix of sweet and salty, he doesn’t know. He’s never tasted such a perfect thing. He licks up once, twice, thrice slowly before he loses his patience and all he can think of is whether your body can cum on his tongue when you’re unconscious.
The sounds are desperate, yet calculated. Thirsty and hungry like he hasn’t been fed for days.
When he catches his breath, Dottore places hot kisses up your tummy, your skin his favorite fabric. He wants to ruin it and mark his name in it, crave it so anyone that’d be next will read his name when they’ll be inside you.
He pulls on his pants, lowering them just enough to pull his cock out. Hard and leaking for your core. Begging to be roughly pressed inside you. Oh but you won’t be moaning his name, he hates it.
His tip nudges past your entrance, and all he does is tease himself. Fucking just the first inches of his length inside you, just enough to begin, to feel how warm you are around him.
But he knows he’ll lose his patience the moment he’ll cum, burying every inches of his girth between your tight walls. Filling you so full of him, so willing to take him.
Your body rocks over the mattress at every single one of his thrusts, deep and hurried. Your breast bouncing for his eyes to stare at, and the bulge in your stomach where he hits the spot. Fuck, he loves you.
If he could even call this love at all. Oh you would never love him. Not after this, that’s for sure. He burned his only chance with you. He’ll never get a second chance after this either.
But when he cums, feeling your walls flutter around him it’s all nothing. He doesn’t care. If you’ll never be his, he’ll find the perfect mix in his laboratory that will make you change your mind and make your body his.
Whether you want it, or not.
@eternallyei. please do not copy/translate/use as your own.
Og!Zandik x fem!reader smut
synopsis: As expected, Zandik’s charm is inevitable. Author’s Notes: this is my first ever piece, I don’t edit my work, this is purely for fun. Excuse me for any mistakes, English isn’t my first language!
Out of all versions, og Zandik HAS to be my favorite (comeheregrandpa)
Content warnings: SMUT!, p in v, riding, unprotected sex, porn with little to no plot, choking, (lmk if more)
MINORS/AGELESS ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.
Zandik was never one to need assistance in his experiments. His segments were created for that very reason, after all. Yet basically working with himself turned out to be grueling, 45 and 65 being the ONLY reasonable ones (at times).
He needed someone different.
His dearest coworker Pantalone, and your acquaintance, deemed you fit enough to work amongst Zandik and his segments. You were known for your patience and willingness to work in your field after your graduation from the Akademiya.
Zandik was skeptical of you when you first walked in, your pretty face disarming him and only making him wary of your intelligence and tolerance. It took him a while to get used to your presence, you were the only person in the lab without teal hair and red eyes like his! You on the other hand, seemed to feel comfortable enough in the lab to complete your work, even if the segments usually tried to belittle you, testing, searching, sizing you up.
Their curious nature only fueled their somewhat rude behavior against you.
Zandik berated them at times, but he himself made comments on your work, trying to figure out how much you could handle.
“Why would you think this would work?! Out of your mind, miss?” He leaned over your desk, cane in hand while the other pointed at a formula you wrote.
You hated feeling inferior.
Absolutely loathed being doubted.
“Can’t your brilliant mind figure it out, oh Doctor?”
You chimed sarcastically. And successfully hit a nerve.
The way you backmouthed Zandik just made him more agitated, doubling your work, making you stay longer than your designated shifts, much to your dismay.
Yet he couldn’t deny it, you were a hell of a trick. Your mind wasn’t as stupid as he first assumed. You were proving yourself worthy of being his assistant every day. Combined with your good looks, you were almost lethal.
He eventually softened up to you. Began asking your opinion, and seeking even advice…(much to his discomfort).
The segments stopped picking on you after Zandik began showcasing his respect in your abilities.
Even more when you openly began flirting with the much older man.
You hid your flirting with silly little jokes and compliments, in which he caught every single one. He wasn’t sure how to reciprocate, often muttering a small and dry “Thank you.” or changing the topic entirely. He thought you would opt to hit on his younger segments, like 35’s charm or even 25’s enthusiasm.
But oh no. You knew exactly who you wanted. Zandik’s character was mellowed by age, yet his charm and whims stayed intact. It didn’t help how he commanded you but also happened to defend you against 25’s criticism. It made your stomach flip with something warm.
And now even warmer as Zandik placed a hand to the back of your thigh as you leaned over to “inspect” some document that Zandik needed to send.
He was sat in his chair idly, as if shamelessly groping you in his lab was a silent agreement of your work tasks. Of course you reacted with a usual little joke:
“Handsy aren’t we, Doctor?”
“It’s Zandik to you.” he replied with a small smirk, which you returned.
“Your document’s fine.” you replied and straightened, but his grip on your thigh only tightened, not letting you step away. You placed your hands on your hips.
A little flirt back and he pulled you to straddle him. It all happened so quickly, clothes halfway off for access
How you ended up bouncing on his cock, you didn’t know. All bite from you dissipated immediately. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you to grind and bounce on his shaft. Your moans and pants quickly filled with lab, (segments were ushered out by Zandik hours ago), your pussy needing to feel more and more.
Zandik was beyond infatuated with you and your expressions, how you bit your lip in order to save yourself some dignity and silence your moans as much as possible, the way your eyes were glassy with need, and how you occasionally smirked at him even as you were getting your guts rearranged.
You took Zandik’s wrists and placed his palms on your tits, giving him permission to touch and explore you ever further.
And oh explore did he do.
His confidence rose, snapping him out of the dreamy feeling of your pussy clenching on him and turning his focus on destroying you a little further.
He pinched your nipple with a sharp smirk of his, basking in the way your moans rose to a high pitched sound of his name. He let go of your tits, and grabbed your throat instead with one hand, cutting off a little oxygen and making your mind a thoughtless mess. His other hand gripped your shoulder, pushing you further down his cock that grazed against your cervix perfectly.
Oh how close you were, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any second.
You threw your head back, hands on either side of his chair’s armrests for balance as you set a messy, and fast pace of you moving up and down greedily.
“Z-Zandik…! Fuck—ngh— ‘m so close…!” You breathed out before feeling his hand move to the back of your neck, pulling you forward.
A sharp sting of a bite followed, Zandik’s teeth dipping in your soft skin of your neck and surely leaving hickeys as a reminder of the filthy actions you were participating in.
“Don’t you dare stop.” You feel him groan , eyes shut as he himself looked to succumb to the warmth and wetness of your heat. His hands returned to grip your waist again, as you grinded your hips against his.
“You wanna cum? Huh? Beg and I might let you.” Zandik breathlessly spoke, punctuating his words with a sharp slap on your ass.
In desperation for relief, you swallowed aside any humility of yours. “P-Please.. Zandik.. let me cum, I need it s’bad…” you whined pulling back slightly to give him that damned tear-eyed look that he couldn’t say no to.
“Work for it.” He let go of your hips with a smug look, not providing you with support anymore, and letting you do all the work of unraveling yourself on his dick. You helplessly whined and moaned as you tried your best to get yourself off without ruining your pace.
It only took a couple of shallow bounces to feel your core tighten and the delicious wave of an orgasm unravel. You cried out his name, your hips stuttered, the tightness of your walls drawing a hiss from Zandik. You lowered your head, breathing deeply as you tried recollecting yourself from your high, only to be met with Zandik’s hip thrusts and his hands to guide you up and down again.
You snapped your head up to meet his eyes, in which you were met with a hungry look from Zandik’s eyes behind his monocle. With what energy he mustered up, he met your hips as he made you ride out your high, causing your overstimulation at the stretch. Soon after a couple more thrusts, Zandik groaned, his hands tightening on your skin as he filled you with white-hot spurts of cum, your pussy clenching on him and milking him dry.
Protection. Right…
Your eyes widened at the realization, too late now…
Zandik panted and let go of the tight grip as he slumped back in chair, only then did he catch your wide-eyed look.
“..don’t worry ‘bout it…” he breathlessly said.
You could only nod as you leaned to lay your head in the crook of his neck, exhausted and content.
𝓤𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝓞𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶ♱ ྀིྀ
pantalone x fem!reader x dottore
SYNOPSIS: Seeking to deepen his understanding of the human mind, The Doctor offers a ‘special’ experiment to his favourite subordinate—you—and his dear friend, Regrator. Amidst the heat of the study, the fine line between scientific curiosity and personal intrusion blurs as the Second Harbinger finds himself joining in on the fun.
CONTENT WARNING: DUBCON, fatui!reader, reader is dottore’s subordinate, reader is referred to as ‘miss’, petty bickering between the old men, slight scientific jargon, prob inaccurate science stuff (sorry), slight pervert pantalone, smut (mdni), nipple play (?), pantalone-centric in first half of smut, p*rn w/o plot, exhibitionism, dottore gets FOMO lowkey, implied use of aphrodisiac (m), p in v, protected sex but eventual unprotected sex, threesome, double penetration, anal sex (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, not beta read.
WORD COUNT: 8.2k
NOTES: happy june :”3 !! i hope you enjoy this very self indulgent piece! i haven’t written a threesome in ages so apologies if its a bit clunky </3. div: babyg4rlhelps
The hallway leading to The Doctor’s laboratory was eerily quiet, his subordinates—like yourself—were currently on break at the cafeteria indulging in much needed fuel to power through yet another hectic day. The soles of your shoes echoed throughout the metallic floors, it served as a reminder at how deserted the corridor was; even though you’ve walked down this same path for years, the atmosphere never once failed to lick an icy shiver down your spine. It didn’t help how lifeless and dull these hallways were. As for the purpose of your early return in The Doctor’s laboratory, one of your colleagues had told you that the Harbinger required your presence urgently, and given your colleagues' words, it seemed to be a matter of importance.
Though, you wondered why The Doctor had specifically asked for you; as far as you were aware, your ranking as his subordinate wasn’t anything special—merely conducting experiments and quality control were your tasks, just like all the other subordinates under his authority. Ah, you didn’t mess up anything, did you? You always always followed protocols and it wasn’t like The Doctor had previously given you an earful for messing up an experiment.
In fact, he had been nothing but full of praise towards you; there was one instance where the Harbinger gleefully praised your intellect. Although to others, he never held back on his dissatisfaction whenever a colleague of yours messed up certain experimental procedures. The Doctor always spoke to them of the importance of materials as they were not easily obtainable, and to always carefully read the protocols. Unfortunately, his rather strange bias towards you made you the butt of the jokes amongst your colleagues in cafeteria conversations, and you were more than certain they were currently laughing at you behind your back.
“Hah! She’s like a teacher’s pet but instead of a teacher it's Lord Dottore! Hahahahahaha!” One of your colleagues started right after you were told The Doctor needed you back at the laboratory.
Of course, it was all light hearted but you wished they were a bit more mature about the situation because sometimes you couldn’t help but feel . . . weird around Lord Dottore at times—especially at times where he’d lean over your shoulder to inspect your task for the day. Maybe he simply needed a closer look but the way his chest ghosted against your back had you biting the inside of your cheeks.
Stepping inside the laboratory, you were greeted with an empty space, devoid of the man you were looking for. The room was how everyone left it before heading to the cafeteria—powered equipment turned off, hazardous chemicals stored away, and several documents sprawled across counters. For a supposedly urgent matter, you expected him to be at least present in his own laboratory.
Confused, you called out, “. . Lord Dottore?”
Silence stretched for a few moments before you received a response, “I am in my office. It would be preferable if you joined me.”
At the sound of his familiar voice, you followed its origin where it led you to the slightly ajar door to his office. Your heart pounded against your chest, you’ve only been inside there once to drop off research notes because the person who usually did it was absent that day, The Doctor also wasn’t inside when you had entered previously so this was your first time in his office with him.
Something about that unnerved you. Sure, he was somewhat ‘nicer’ to you but there wasn’t denying the fact that he was an interesting individual but you were under the same organisation, so it wasn’t your place to question the Harbinger nor his motives.
As you walked inside, you quietly closed the door behind out of politeness before turning around to get on one knee and bow your head. During the brief movement, you caught a familiar tall figure standing just off to the side of The Doctor’s desk.
“Lord Dottore, Lord Regrator.” But what was he doing here?
There wasn’t much you knew about Lord Regrator other than he was the Ninth Harbinger who was in charge of economic policies in the nation.
“There’s no need for formalities. Sit. I called you here to discuss a special experiment.” Dottore gestured a gloved hand at the empty seat before his desk, the corners of his lips slightly curled.
A special experiment? At the mention of an experiment, your heart calmed a little—it was your expertise after all, so there was no point fretting over it but the strange tension in the room seemed to scream otherwise. It also didn’t explain why Regrator was present, it wasn’t like they were about to start discussing finance with you.
You nodded, standing up to quietly make your way to the empty seat, “Of course. May I ask what this experiment is about?”
As you sat down, Dottore spoke up once more, both elbows atop the wooden desk, leaning a little closer, “Recently, I have been expanding my research on the human brain and its connection to the body regarding its response to bodily sensations such as touch. I have appropriate non-invasive equipment in my personal laboratory, however, the procedure is rather . . invasive.”
Invasive? What could Dottore possibly mean by that?
“Naturally, such an experiment necessitates a suitable candidate and their willing consent.”
A participant—you assumed that was your supposed role, the reason why Dottore required your presence. Once more, your heart thrummed out of nervousness, you weren’t going to conduct an experiment, you were going to be experimented on. The mention of an invasive procedure already had your mind spinning in a million different scenarios; he wasn’t going to cut you open, was he . . ?
“Your intelligence precedes your colleagues which is why I have found you to be the suitable candidate. Of course, it all comes down to your decision but it would be a delight to have your involvement.”
You sucked in a small breath, “May I . . read over the research proposal, Lord Dottore?” He wordlessly nodded, opening a drawer on his desk before sliding a neat stack of papers over.
Written in bold letters was the title: ‘Sensory cortex activation by stimulation’
The human mind remains an imperfectly understood mechanism. This study aims to document and analyze cerebral activity in response to external stimuli such as touch and pressure in order to better identify the relations between the human brain and body. The implications of this experimental research extend beyond mere academic curiosity, a more complex understanding of neurological behaviour under euphoric conditions may provide valuable insight into artificial human enhancement procedures. Experimentation of this nature requires a fully informed and consenting participant.
Methodology: The participant will be situated within a controlled laboratory environment under my supervision to maintain consistency of neurological readings throughout the duration of the experiment. Neurological activity will be monitored and recorded through the use of neural-imaging apparatus for high resolution cerebral observation. The participant will be gradually exposed to sexual stimuli in certain body areas as follows: nipple, clitoral and vaginal (penile penetration) leading up to orgasm which is the expected peak readings.
To ensure authenticity of collected data, the participant must remain aware and capable of providing continuous informed consent during all stages of experimentation and contraception will be used. Furthermore, a second participant (assigned to Pantalone) is set to carry out sexual stimuli mentioned above and is considered a controlled variable along with the primary participant. Collected findings will subsequently be analyzed for potential applications in the fields of cognitive enhancement and artificial synchronisation of human neural patterns.
In simpler terms, Dottore wanted to observe human neural activity during a euphoric state to better understand the connection between the brain and body? In all honesty, you were speechless. Not only was the former supervising the entire experiment but Lord Regrator was also a participant, at this point you were convinced this was some kind of humiliation ritual. There was no denying that The Doctor was extremely professional when it came to research, and you were more than certain it wasn’t going to be his first time seeing a naked human body—he had even written a formal proposal which further confirms that this experiment wasn’t some kind of perverted shenanigan.
“Do I, uh—Does the experiment require the primary participant to be . . fully naked?” You feigned a cough, flipping a page as you tried your best to avoid eye contact with Dottore. Though he wore a pointed mask, you were certain his eyes remained solely on you.
“It is not a necessity. Only stated areas in the proposal are required to be exposed for efficiency. I’d also like to mention that a generous compensation will be given once the experiment concludes.”
At the mention of compensation, your ears perked up. Even though the Fatui was an influential organization in Teyvat, the pay you received was fairly enough to get by but if you were being honest, you could use a bit more mora especially with this month’s bills rolling around. Without another word, you nodded, finally looking up at the Second Harbinger.
“Alright. I will participate in the experiment, Lord Dottore.”
Beneath the pointed mask, his rosy lips stretched into a wider smile, “Excellent. I require you to sign this contract then I shall conduct a pre-experiment interview to obtain better understanding of the participant.” Reaching over the desk, he flipped over to the last page of the proposal and slid a fountain pen over, silently tapping his gloved fingers against the wooden surface as he watched you sign.
With your participation officially sealed with a signature, The Doctor carefully placed the document inside the drawer and fixed his attention on you, gloved hands loosely clasped around one another, “Are you sexually active?” His question settled into the thick silence awkwardly, it stuck out like a sore thumb—all too sudden and personal yet your commander had simply asked it as if he were asking about today’s weather.
You were aware this was part of the protocol but having Regrator present in the office seemed a bit much for you; what was he even here for? Surely, he wasn’t about to start asking you medical related questions, he didn’t even work in the field. Discomfort enveloped your warmed skin, a thousand kisses akin to small prickles—hot and itchy.
Shifting ever so slightly in your seat, you spoke, “N-No . . but I have had intercourse before.” Archons, if you were given the option between Her Majesty unleashing her unforgiving ice on you or to explain your sex life to The Doctor, without hesitation you’d pick the former. Dottore was still your boss, after all but thankfully, he was as professional as you expected, keenly listening to your reply while nodding—nothing more, nothing less. If he had any reaction to your answers, he didn’t let on.
“And when was the last time?”
God, when was the last time you had sex? You simply couldn’t remember. Being a Fatui wasn’t a walk down the park, days in The Doctor’s laboratory were long and tedious, by the time you return home late in the afternoon, you’d only have the strength to eat and wash up before welcoming the night. The routine was monotonous, yes but there wasn’t room to mope around and complain.
“I cannot accurately say but most likely a month ago.” With your boyfriend then but The Doctor didn’t need to know about your past relationship.
The Second Harbinger’s questions continued for a couple more minutes, he asked about every single medical related question you could think of—medical history, current medications, prior injuries, and existing neurological conditions. Naturally, you tried your best to answer as accurately as advised by The Doctor and each response was recorded with meticulous precision.
“Good.” The word sounded less like praise and more like a conclusion. “If at any point you wish to withdraw from the study, you will retain your right to do so.”
Silence stretched inside the cold room.
You stared at Dottore. Through his pointed mask, he stared back. Neither of you spoke as his words lingered in the icy atmosphere like wisps of smoke, light and airy yet it held a bitter taste. A beat passed, then, very slowly, one corner of his mouth curved upward.
“I assume you’re wondering whether I genuinely mean that.”
So The Doctor was aware of your growing suspicion regarding his previous statement; you knew well enough how he worked, his experimental endeavours weren’t obtained through ethical and considerate experiments, and for him to state something like that was clearly out of character. Or maybe he actually housed an ounce of decency in him.
“Pardon my brazenness but yes, a little.”
The smile on his lips widened, “Reasonable.”
“Coerced participation produces unreliable results, especially neurological results.”
It wasn’t concern nor ethics but merely data quality, you didn’t know whether to applaud him for being such a dedicated scholar. Surprisingly, his reasoning was sound, emotions can and will affect neurological scans; factors such as stress can create physiological ‘noise’ which would increase variability in data.
At the lack of your reply, The Doctor merely dismissed your silence as acknowledgement and spoke up once more, “As you’re already aware, this study requires two participants. The reliability of the data is dependent upon minimising external variables and, unfamiliarity constitutes as such.”
“In other words, you’re making us socialize.” Lord Regrator finally spoke up, his dulcet voice curling around your body like a serpentine predator.
Well, it wasn’t entirely odd to familiarise oneself with a fellow study participant, especially if intimacy was on the table but the whole situation felt rather awkward. Under more casual circumstances, you’d feel at ease but being confined in your commander’s office with another Harbinger felt nothing but forced; you felt nothing less than a puppet being forced to interact with another toy at the hands of a naïve child.
“Call it whatever you prefer. Participants exhibit measurably different neurological responses when interacting with unfamiliar individuals.” A gloved finger tapped the wooden desk, “Trust levels, social comfort, perceived predictability—they all introduce inconsistencies. Unless, of course, you want me to find another willing participant. After all, you do have the right to withdraw from the study, Pantalone.”
Hidden beneath Dottore’s words was provocation but to Pantalone, the taunt was clear as day. From where he stood, he could see the way the former’s lips curled into a smug smile—a silent challenge between both of them. But Regrator didn’t bite, no, instead, he shifted his attention toward you.
“Well.” He smiled pleasantly, “It seems we’ve been assigned homework. If Dottore wishes us to become familiar with one another, I suppose introductions are in order.”
Satisfied that events were proceeding according to plan, the Second Harbinger immediately returned to his notes. Lord Regrator watched his companion for a brief moment, “He’s actually taking notes. How amusing.” A gentle laugh escaped his lips, he moved a tad closer to get a better view and the scent of tobacco faintly invaded your senses.
For the next hour, conversation between you and Regrator drifted from formal introductions to declassified Fatui affairs to Snezhnayan politics, and for the entirety of it, Dottore wordlessly sat in his seat, taking notes of everything. The conversation started off stiff as expected—Pantalone may be a participant but he was still a Harbinger, and with it came formality but as words flowed, you eased slightly. You learned about his role as a high ranking Fatuus and despite your lack of interest in his field, you simply nodded along.
Lord Regrator differed from Lord Dottore, and whether that observation was positive or not, you were uncertain. Different in a way that the former was clearly built for conversations, he gave flattery when needed, smiled at your words, and gave colourful responses; you assumed he obtained his mannerisms through his role but even with his authority, he was easier to converse with.
“Alright, that is all for today. I shall require both your presence next week once I have the appropriate equipment set up.”
With that, you excused yourself first and headed back to the cafeteria with a racing heart. On the way over, you questioned whether what you were getting yourself into was something you’d regret in the future but all your mind could think about was the coming week. The mere idea of Lord Regrator intimately touching you shouldn’t have invited heat between your legs but with every step taken closer to the cafeteria, the more it grew. It didn’t help how obscene visuals of you and him flashed in your mind every second or so.
The new week rolled around with slight anticipation; it was embarrassing, really, the slight excitement buried in the depths of your core pulsing with expectation. It was weird to anticipate such an erotic experiment but pure lust fogged your mind primarily due to the fact that you simply haven’t had sex in a month. Weeks of pent up stress and emotions? You were definitely overdue for release. Though, you did have to constantly remind yourself that it was a formal study within a controlled environment, and not some kind of one night stand with your commander’s colleague.
“I trust you’re both well rested?”
The three of you were back inside The Doctor’s office, it was late afternoon, the warm glow of the sun spilled through the frostbitten windows, painting the rather dull room in a mellow hue. The rest of your colleagues had already left the laboratory which meant you, along with the two Harbingers were the only ones present. It made you a little nervous—being alone in a room with two of Snezhnaya’s influential individuals.
Pantalone hummed and you replied with a small nod, already feeling your skin starting to prick.
Dottore led you both into another room connected to his office, it wasn’t as vast and you assumed this was strictly out of bounds to everyone but him. The room felt unnervingly sterile, its walls were constructed from smooth metal panels with narrow seams, and bright white lighting illuminated the space.
At the centre of the room stood the experiment’s primary apparatus—a reclining examination chair surrounded by an intricate arrangement of cables, a machine, and polished metallic arms suspended from the ceiling. The most striking feature of the room was the wall opposite the entrance—a single pane of reinforced observation glass stretched nearly from floor to ceiling; beyond the glass you assumed was the control room, housing machinery responsible for operating the experiment.
“For the entire duration of the experiment, I shall remain inside the control room to oversee the study and note down all results. Remove any unnecessary layers of clothing such as overcoats and gloves, and meet me by the apparatus.”
Left in your blouse and pants, you headed to the center of the room where Dottore stood with Pantalone just a step behind. The former tinkered around the apparatus, pressing a few buttons and flipping switches with a gloved finger, causing the machine to whirr to life; it hummed a low, almost quiet tune that somewhat settled your nerves.
“Lie down.”
The Doctor looked over his feathered shoulder, pointed mask gleaming beneath the harsh lighting before turning his attention to the suspended metallic arms for inspection. You did as you were told, positioning the entirety of your body along the examination chair, the leather was cool against the fabric of your clothes which left tiny goosebumps from the difference in temperature. Wordlessly, you watched as he positioned the metallic arms near your head, several inches away from contact; its tips were equipped with a semi-circle that encased your head. So, this was what The Doctor meant about non-invasive equipment.
“Once I operate the machine, you may feel a slight sensation but do not fret, it is simply the apparatus emitting pulses of energy to record neural activity. And as for you, I require complete obedience—every single word.”
“Hah, you act as if I’m some kind of disobedient mutt. I’m wounded.” Regrator pressed a hand over his chest, a mocking smile directed at his colleague.
The latter didn’t bother replying and instead walked off to the control room, the soles of his boots clicking with every calculated step. Pantalone softly shook his head, muttering a faint “Lovely as ever.” beneath his breath, full of sarcasm.
“Any command given will be spoken through this intercom.”
Your attention quickly moved from Regrator to the mounted speakers on the corners of the room as Dottore’s amplified voice filled the space. Gaze darting over to the foot of the examination chair, just past the Ninth Harbinger’s torso, you watched your commander on the other side of the observation glass. Heat warmed your cheeks at the realisation that you directly faced the latter which meant he’d be able to see everything you exposed.
“Base readings first. In the meantime, Pantalone, I trust you have already taken the concoction I made prior?”
With the metallic arms whirring to life, you could barely hear The Doctor’s words over the pulsing of the machine. Just as he mentioned, there was a slight foreign sensation in your head, it felt like pressure but also not at the same time, though, it wasn’t painful. You could only watch as the two conversed over the observation glass.
“Indeed.” Regrator nodded.
Two days ago, Dottore had given him a curated substance meant to increase one’s libido, thus concentrating blood flow to the genitalia. He had no qualms consuming it but it was foreign, indeed, he had never taken such a drug before and it took all his willpower not to take you right then and there. It didn’t help how his semi-hardened cock twitched inside his pants, involuntarily rubbing against the fabric of his underwear.
Dottore jotted down a few notes as the monitors displayed your real-time cerebral activity; so far, everything looked good, “Commencing the first phase of the experiment: nipple stimulation. Duration: 30 seconds. For the entire duration—without stopping—the nipples are to be stimulated via gently pinching or twisting.”
Thirty seconds didn’t seem too long, right? With that, you slightly lifted yourself off the examination chair, bringing your blouse over your chest before attempting to unclip your brassiere. Seeing your struggle, Pantalone brought himself closer, a faint whiff of tobacco following, “May I?”
Despite his chivalrous offer, his amethyst gaze kept darting at your clothed breasts and the smoothness of your skin—he knew it was impolite to do so but being under the influence of Dottore’s concoction had him acting a tad out of character. He cleared his throat as his cock twitched at the sight before him, swallowing down the low moan he almost let out. Could you really blame him? The garment was a black lace adorned with intricate patterns, not to mention the fabric being slightly see-through—a feature he found rather brazen. Pantalone could almost assume you wore this specific garment today for him to see. And maybe for your commander, as well.
“Thank you . .” You nodded and allowed Regrator to help.
“Pardon the intrusion.” He laced an arm through the narrow space between your back and the chair, lithe fingers expertly unclasping your brassiere with one hand.
Your heart may or may not have skipped a beat.
In one swift movement, the garment loosened around your torso, threatening to slip off. With slight hesitation and a burning face, you removed the fabric and shyly placed it on the chair right by your thigh. Almost immediately, icy air kissed your warmed skin which caused your nipples to harden, a small hiss almost slipping past your lips. While you were occupied with embarrassment, Pantalone’s gaze traced the curves of your chest, each mound sinfully beckoning his large hands—maybe even his mouth too. Obviously, it wasn’t his first seeing a naked woman but how his mind reeled with selfish fantasies was beyond childish.
In the control room, Dottore was unfazed—he had seen many nude bodies before and yours weren’t any different. It was nothing special, really but your cerebral activity on the other hand . . . That was more interesting.
“Whenever you’re ready.” He spoke into the intercom.
“I’ll be starting now, Miss.” Regrator sat on the narrow space of the chair, his clothed thigh brushing against your own; you tried not to think of the warmth which radiated from his body or how your name effortlessly rolled off his tongue like it was meant to be.
A silent nod was all you could muster—not even a split second eye contact to acknowledge his presence out of politeness but from the looks of it, Regrator didn’t mind at all as he proceeded to bring both hands up to your chest. If only you’d look his way you’d see a shy hue of crimson dusting his pale cheeks and ears but alas, your gaze fixated on the ceiling above.
A small yelp forced its way past your lips; Regrator used both index fingers to gently trace your areolas a couple of times, mere centimetres shy from your pebbled nipples, the tips of his fingers were cold—not icy but enough to send a strong shiver down your spine. You missed the way the corners of his lips subtly curled upwards in utter amusement—who would’ve thought Dottore’s lovely subordinate hid quite melodious tunes? There was no doubt his Harbinger colleague thought of the same thing.
As a matter of fact, despite being behind an observation glass, Dottore heard the sound you made all too clearly. The door to the control room was slightly ajar which caused any noise—minute or not—to spill through. It wasn’t foreign for his experimental subjects to create any noise but today differed, what was usually tunes of pain turned into hums of pleasure, and he couldn’t decide between the two which he preferred.
Maybe, just maybe by a tad bit—from how his core twisted with delight—it was probably the latter.
But Dottore had no room to ponder over that, not when your neurological activity displayed exquisite images on his monitor. As expected, a small cluster of highlights illuminated the somatosensory cortex which indicated its activation; he quickly jotted down notes, eyes trained on the screen before him, trying not to let your saccharine noises get to his head.
Another twitch of his now fully hardened cock had him letting out a low groan beneath his shaky breaths. The sight before him was simply exquisite; Pantalone may not have the best eyesight but he didn’t need a perfect vision to deduce the divine beauty—breasts splayed flat, torso arching ever so slightly, your head turned to the side, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, and brows furrowed in embarrassment.
Oh, what a shy little thing you were.
“Lord R-Regrator—!” He gently pinched your nipples which spread a sharp, quick shock across your chest. Another arch of your back pressed your skin closer to Regrator’s digits, he experimented with a slight twist, turning them between his index fingers and thumbs.
Archons, how embarrassing! You tried. You truly tried to hold back any unwanted sounds but the Lord Harbinger seemed to know what he was doing—how to please a woman—you couldn’t help but moan out his name from how amazing his hands felt against your feverish skin. Save for the low hum of machinery, the room was filled with complete silence and any noise made stuck out like crimson ink on a blank ivory canvas.
“Do let me know if my actions hurt you at some point.” Pantalone mindlessly murmured, mind completely fogged with lust, and senses drowned in your muffled moans.
You finally looked up at him through glassy eyes and wet lashes, it didn’t help how the bright lights above drew sparkles in your irises. He almost missed the wordless nod you responded with, too focused on the growing haze painted on your face. As Regrator continued his stimulation, shallow pants filled the space above your face and by this point, your face was as warm as it could get. Occasionally, your body shuddered beneath his expert touch, slowly and steadily driving you over the edge as each second passed.
Before another embarrassing moan could spill from your lips, The Doctor’s voice flooded the room via intercom, “First phase has concluded. Moving on to the second phase: clitoral stimulation. Duration: 30 seconds. As previously mentioned, stimulation has to be continuous for the entire duration.”
Even though embarrassment had slightly subsided, you hesitantly reached for the button of your pants, undoing them with trembling hands. Once more, the Ninth Harbinger offered assistance to which you thankfully accepted—there was no reason getting shy now, he had already played with your nipples earlier. Driving the soles of your shoes onto the cushioned examination chair, you lifted your hips and pulled your pants down along with your underwear with the Harbinger’s help—just enough to expose your cunt.
His eyes zeroed in on your glistening entrance. All for him? Oh, he was being spoiled, indeed. The sight of your cunt fanned the blazing flames of Pantalone’s ego—all this just from mere nipple play? How adorable. You must’ve been really touch starved.
“Before we commence the second phase, Pantalone, I trust you can find the clitoris, right? Perhaps you need my assistance?”
“I am not ignorant, Dottore.”
“I am simply making sure. No reason to get snappy.”
You wanted to laugh. Two Harbingers bickering should not have amused you but the pettiness behind your commander’s voice and the slight annoyance laced with Lord Regrator’s words was all too amusing. If you were to tell a fellow colleague about them two bickering whether one could find the clitoris or not, they would not believe a single word that’d come out of your mouth. Who knew they could talk about trivial matters, too, how interesting.
Lord Regrator returned his rightful attention to you, his dull expression immediately shifted into the soft smile he always wore, “Ready, Miss?” Meek, you nodded. The Harbinger repositioned himself, right knee slotted between your parted legs to get a better view of your wet cunt.
He gathered the slick coating your cunt, spreading it on the pads of his fingers before pushing back your clitoral hood to reveal the swollen nub of flesh all in its needy glory. Embarrassingly enough, a simple ghostly touch on your clitoris had your entire body jerking against the leather of the chair, followed by a wanton moan of the Harbinger’s title. You quickly turned your head to the side and pressed the skin of your forearm against your lips—a futile attempt as the moment you obstructed your face, Lord Regrator’s digit began rubbing your clitoris in tight circles, as though a wordless protest against muffling the sounds you made.
His fingers were good—amazing, even, to the point where you wished thirty seconds went as quickly as a single second. In your head, clitoral stimulation of that duration was doable but you wholly underestimated yourself and the Lord Harbinger’s skills, on top of that, you were still trying to recover from earlier. You weren’t supposed to orgasm on this phase of the experiment otherwise it would ruin it entirely but it seemed like he had a goal: to drive you over the edge before the thirty seconds were up.
“L-Lord Regrator, I think—Mhm!”
“Hm? Were you saying something?”
The arm slung over your face immediately flew downwards to grasp his wrist, attempting to slow down his actions. Your free hand gripped on the side of the examination chair, nails digging crescents into the leather to ground and steer yourself from the impending orgasm. You arched your back and moaned aloud once more, earning a satisfied smile from the Lord Harbinger.
Dottore’s gaze ripped away from the monitors and landed at the centre of the room where you and Pantalone where, he carefully watched as your body pathetically writhed under the latter’s eager touch. He could barely see your lust-bitten face but judging from the moans you let out, his friend was doing exceptionally well at pleasing you—even the activity displayed on the monitors could back that fact; more regions of the brain were now highlighted indicating an increase in activity,
It was indeed fascinating to observe how one’s brain lit up from mere stimulation.
The tune of shallow, soft pants filled Regrator’s ears, it was amusing to watch you scramble and gather the threads of sanity in your palms, refusing to let pleasure take control of your body. Did he feel bad? A little but he was no saint. He switched from tight circles to figure eights, pressing onto your sensitive nub with a little more pressure. Your legs shook with bliss, fingers wrapped around his wrist tightening as you teetered to the brink of an orgasm.
“Ngh—ah! Lord Re—Haah!”
“I suggest you use your words otherwise I cannot understand you.” Mockery laced his dulcet voice but with the hum of machinery mixed with your shameless moans, you didn’t pick up on it.
When did Pantalone last have fun like this? Sure, he was powerful enough to control the nation’s economic state with a mere snap of his fingers but being able to control the pleasure you felt? Beyond satisfying. Not only was he rewarded with your lust-fogged expressions but also how your body squirmed beneath his touch—desperate and pathetic.
Your core tightened, it stretched and stretched further waiting for the recoil called climax but before you could reach it, your commander’s cold voice filled the room once more, “Second phase has concluded. We’ll be moving on to the final phase after a short interval.”
With that, Regrator pulled away his hand which elicited an embarrassing whine of protest from you. In a daze, you stared up at the ceiling and silently thanked Lord Dottore for the short interval because you knew well enough you’d be a complete mess once the third phase began. Though, the Second Harbinger’s reasoning was most certainly experiment-related rather than pure concern for the subject.
The tight knot deep in your core disappointingly dissipated as each second passed without stimulation—it was beyond frustrating to say the least, especially after weeks without sex. Despite the cool air inside, a sheen of sweat lightly coated your entire body and you felt stuffy; suddenly, the fabric pulled halfway down your legs felt too restricting, the blouse pooled around your neck didn’t help either. At this point, you just wanted one thing, and judging by the crimson blush on Lord Regrator’s cheeks, he wanted it too—release.
Dottore simply wasn’t being nice with the interval, the main reason for it was to let your cerebral activity return to baseline, otherwise readings from the second phase would carry on to the third phase and mess with the experiment. But he did have a more selfish reason that didn’t need disclosing—the growing tent between his legs.
He only needed a few moments to recollect himself. His bodily response to the scene before him was normal—he was still a man, after all— but in a professional setting, it was undesirable. Dottore knew what he was getting into when he first wrote the proposal for this serendipitous experiment but he didn’t expect to be aroused by it. He leaned back in his seat, a subtle glance at the prominent bulge before letting out a soft sigh.
How truly inconvenient.
After a couple moments of recollecting himself—or simply trying to—Dottore spoke into the intercom to commence the final phase, “The third will be slightly different, there will be no set duration as the end goal of this phase is an orgasm but restrictions will be in order. That means strictly no touching aside from vaginal penetration, this would count as kissing, groping or holding one another. Doing so would interfere with results.”
Since Dottore observed the sensory cortex, other forms of stimulation besides penetration would also be recorded, lowering authenticity of the results.
“Contraception is located above the machinery.” He added.
Pantalone reached for the smooth surface of the machinery next to the examination chair where he grabbed a sealed packet. Lithe fingers curled around the waistband of his pants, you watched as he unbuttoned and pulled it down just enough to reveal his hardened, leaking cock. It slapped against his clothed abdomen, donning a crimson blush that mirrored the hues on his pale cheeks. The pearlescent glob of pre-cum coating his slit had you salivating a little, tongue subtly swiping over your bottom lip.
Wide eyed and lips slightly parted, you could only wordlessly stare at the foreign sight before you, he was decently thick and merely looking at it had you clenching around nothing—eager to have all of the Lord Harbinger inside you.
Pantalone let out a low hiss, expertly rolling the latex down his shaft, “Ready?” Amethyst eyes clouded with lust found your gaze. Lord Regrator’s expression was different from what he usually wore, the cunning, unreadable smile was gone, leaving room for a flustered one.
With a wordless nod from you, the Harbinger fully situated himself between your legs, both hands each circling around the back of your knees to push them to your bare chest, “Hold your legs open for me, will you, dear?” You did as you were told, hooking an arm on each knee, keeping your legs in place and eagerly waiting for his next move.
Knees digging on leather, Pantalone placed a hand on the wide headrest of the chair while the other curled around his base, slowly guiding his cock inside your sopping entrance. A mix of your moans lingered in the air as he bottomed out, the entirety of his shaft sat inside you—heavy and hard. The stretch was delicious, it almost felt purely sinful, you’ve never taken a cock that stretched you this good before and it was dangerous because you might just get addicted to it.
Pantalone leaned over you, free hand now joining the other on holding the headrest. The silvery chain of his glasses dangled mere centimetres from your face, teasing and ghosting over your feverish skin. He sat still for a moment to relish inside your tight, velvety walls, he felt like a boyish virgin all over again with how stimulated he was, and he hasn’t even started thrusting yet.
But Pantalone had a job to do: to bring you to an orgasm because that’s what he agreed to upon signing the contract of this study—to put your pleasure before his own.
A beat or two passed ‘til he slowly drew his hips back—with only the bulbous tip remaining inside—and languidly thrusted, your nails dug into your soft skin, leaving small crescent-shaped indents. You could really only hold on to your legs and take the steady yet forceful pace Lord Regrator had set which caused your body to jolt repeatedly with every smack of his hips against your own.
It was pure torture for Pantalone, you looked absolutely divine yet he wasn’t allowed to hold you—to grope and squeeze at your bouncing breasts, to rub at your clit, to suck on every part of your exposed skin and finally taste you for himself. Alas, he could only rake his gaze up and down your semi-naked form and fantasize how you’d react beneath his palms.
The examination chair groaned underneath the weight of Pantalone’s thrusts, high pitched squeaks interlaced with the string of moans and whimpers filling the entire space. Pantalone carefully shifted his weight to his upper body, anchoring his hands on the headrest to piston his hips into your own.
“O-Oh, god! Lord Regrator!”
“God? H-Haah! Ngh—‘M no god, my dear.”
Bitterness laced his trembling words, it's almost as though he took offense and now he expressed his disdain by merely picking up the pace, rendering you a babbling mess to shut you up. Skin slapping and the smell of sex dangerously danced in the air, one Dottore couldn’t simply ignore—especially the former.
The Second Harbinger messily jotted down notes, fingers tightening around the pen every now and then whenever you let out a loud moan. He didn’t stop his gaze from wandering to where you and Pantalone were, crimson gaze locked onto your jolting form while his friend eagerly pounded you like a starved man. How your legs vigorously bounced in the air was enough to let him know how roughly Pantalone went on you.
The problem between his legs worsened and Dottore may or may not have rubbed his hard on a few times beneath the desk. Just to get a small taste of friction his hardened cock desperately wanted. Childish? Perhaps but fuck he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of trading places with Pantalone—even for a mere second or two. He was more than curious what you’d feel like around him.
“Lord Regrator! I’m—aah! I’m close—ngh!” Legs burning from holding the position, you let go and opted to wrap them around the Harbinger’s waist, locking him in a rather intimate distance. Pantalone let out a breathless chuckle and changed his pace into deep, short thrusts, he grinded into you every few strokes or so, allowing you to see the stars.
A few more sharp thrusts and the knot inside your stomach snapped violently as pure bliss engulfed the entirety of your body. Pantalone, unable to move due to your legs tightening around him, sheathed his cock deep inside and grinded on you, his fat tip rubbing against your sweet, sweet spot. He watched your limp body convulsed beneath him as shocks of pleasure came crashing into you.
He followed suit, spilling his warm seed into the latex while relishing in the tightness of your walls, a loud grunt forced from his rosy lips.
The two of you stayed still for a moment, individuals merely reduced to a heaving mess as the fog of orgasm slowly dissipated from your bodies. As if on cue, Dottore spoke through the intercom,
“The final phase of the study has concluded. Your cooperation is appreciated.”
A breathless laugh from the Harbinger above you, “I sure hope you managed to collect ample findings, Dottore.”
The latter could only scoff, of course he was able to do so. As opposed to his hypothesis—where he had only hypothesized two regions would be active—a handful of regions were active during an orgasm. It gave him a better understanding of how to map the human brain.
At the latter’s silence, Pantalone spoke once more, “Though, I am rather curious,” He let out a small hiss while pulling out. “Why did you need a second participant? Surely you’re more than capable of executing this task yourself, no? Unless . .”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you simply can’t do it.” To please a woman, he wanted to add.
There was only one way to interpret the Ninth’s words and despite it being ‘friendly’ banter, annoyance bubbled in Dottore’s chest, “Obviously, I would need to record findings hence my lack of participation in the study. But if you ask me, I would have done a better job.”
“Really?”
Silence followed.
Solely due to their brief exchange—or was argument a better word?—you found yourself sandwiched between Lord Dottore and Lord Regrator; every article of your clothing long discarded on the cold tiles, and machinery turned off, long forgotten. With the former laying on the examination chair, you straddled him, trembling legs on either side of his waist while the other Harbinger pressed his clothed chest against your back.
“Lord Dottore . .” You bit your lip.
In a haste, he had unzipped his pants and pulled out his leaking cock, rubbing the bare tip up and down your sensitive slit. Behind you, Pantalone’s hands mindlessly wandered all over your naked form—from the plush of your breasts to the fat of your ass, he left no skin untouched. But it wasn’t his hands alone, his lips trailed open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, leaving a few small bites in between.
Pantalone gently ushered you forward, one hand splayed across your back to bring you closer to Dottore ‘til your breasts squished against the latter’s chest. Both Harbingers lined their cocks to your entrances and slowly pushed inside. Slumped against the Second, you trembled violently as they stretched your holes out—one wrong move and you were sure to come undone.
With both cocks fully sheathed inside, all you could do at that point was pant like a mere mutt in heat, you haven’t had proper time to come down from your previous orgasm so any form of stimulation quite literally melted your brain and brought tears to your eyes.
Dottore cupped your jaw with a large, gloved hand and angled your face, he examined your fucked out expression momentarily before closing the distance. Messy and desperate, the Lord Harbinger’s kiss simply knocked oxygen from your lungs, he eagerly plunged his tongue past your lips and explored the inside of your mouth.
The kiss and the sting of his pointed mask digging into your cheek was enough to briefly distract you from their experimental thrusts. Shameless, you wailed into your commander’s mouth, knuckles turning into a lovely shade of ivory as you gripped the collar of his coat.
The examination chair groaned beneath the weight of the Harbingers’ merciless thrusts and one could only hope it was sturdy enough to last an entire round. Creaks of the chair mixed with the sinful harmony of your moans filled all four corners of the room, thankfully this space was a bit more secluded in comparison to your commander’s laboratory which meant anyone else walking down the corridors wouldn’t be able to hear the lewd sounds as much.
Despite the eagerness behind their thrusts, it was certainly surprising to have their movements coordinate with one another—an unspoken rhythm with the sole purpose of bringing you and themselves to release.
Dottore pulled away to catch his breath, leaving a thin translucent string of saliva connecting his kiss-bitten lips to your own, hot breaths mingling together through rough pants. The corner of the Harbinger’s lips curled upwards upon seeing your drunken expression—who knew you looked utterly divine stuffed with two cocks? It made him twitch.
Pantalone’s gaze fixated on your lower half—how your ass bounced and jolted with every powerful thrust he gave. The mere sight of his wet cock appearing and disappearing between the globes of your ass had him heaving a little harder. Maybe it was also due to the tightness of your rear, or the fact that having another cock inside you intensified the pleasurable friction he felt.
A few more harsh thrusts, the coil inside you finally snapped once more, bringing you to a rather earth shattering orgasm. Your body violently trembled in pure bliss as you tried to moan their names to no avail. With the sensation being too much, you fisted Dottore’s clothed chest as if doing so would somewhat ease the pleasurable pain your entire body felt.
The Second soon followed suit, a couple of desperate thrusts into your sopping cunt—ones that had you wailing in overstimulation—before sheathing himself deep inside and releasing thick, warm ribbons of cum. A string of colourful curses in his mother tongue slipped past his kiss-bitten lips as he came inside. Dottore filled you all the way to the brim ‘til his seed slowly seeped out of your greedy hole and onto the leather cushion beneath.
Ah, he’d have to get it cleaned now.
This left Pantalone who greedily hauled your limp body against his chest; one hand expertly rubbed your swollen clit while the other held your jaw to angle your face upwards so he could plunge his tongue inside your mouth. You choked on the messy kiss as the new angle invited him deeper inside. Dottore’s cock slipped out from the change in position but he didn’t mind, instead, he sat up and took it upon himself to plunge two long digits in your cunt.
His fingers were already long enough to reach far but the added thickness of his gloves had you arching your back. If it wasn’t for Lord Regrator’s firm hold, you would’ve already been slumped against the chair long ago. The former’s fingers moved in a ‘come hither’ motion which allowed him to brush against your sweet spot. Surely you could handle another one, right?
“Oh—hng! Close! Ah—haah!” Hands flew down to circle around Dottore’s wrist, you attempted to pathetically remove his fingers from your cunt which shortly proved futile as he remained unmoved.
You came once more, another blinding orgasm ripping through your orgasm but this time, you could barely even muster a whimper—only a soundless cry and fresh tears streaming down your face. Pantalone grunted and bit your shoulder as orgasm hit him, hot cum painting the walls of your rear; he grinded his hips against your ass to ride out his orgasm before releasing your skin from his bite.
Nothing but the sound of harsh breathing filled the walls and for a long moment, the three of you remained still to catch your breaths with reality slowly seeping in to replace what was once lust. You wanted to sleep right then and there, exhaustion weighed heavy on your body from how hard they both worked you—too tired to even think of the consequences.
None of this was supposed to happen—at least not the unexpected threesome but now that both Harbingers have had a taste of you, they might just come back for seconds.
A Pledge To Keep, ch. 6
summary: getting knocked up by your older brother’s fratbro wasn't exactly apart of your five year plan. least of all with notorious fuck boy ryomen sukuna.
pairing: frat!kuna x reader
content: everything in this series is considered 18+ so not minor friendly! contains mature content such as rough sex, breeding, spanking, spit play, light hitting, lactation kink, descriptive child birth, postpartum depression, angst, probably more
wc: 9.6k
dividers by: @petalpxl | series masterlist | art i commissioned by @495lz | part five
When you wake up, it’s to strong arms wrapped protectively around you, keeping your body snug against a warm chest as light rhythmic breaths fanned across your neck. Every attempt at sitting up ended with you being yanked back down and held tighter than before, a grunt of protest vibrating down your spine.
Memories of last night come rushing in, the way Sukuna held you so softly in his arms as he made love to you, confessed his love to you. Your mind still could not compute that the Ryomen Sukuna loved you. You had broken through the walls he built around his heart all those years ago, reminded him that love didn’t have to be rough and that it could be found in the rarest of places with people you’d least expect.
You had unleashed the big softie that was hidden underneath his hard exterior of scowls and rage that he wrapped himself in to protect the young boy who was still angry at being abandoned. You were experiencing a side of Sukuna that most people never had and the thought of being a part of something so exclusive, filled your mind with possessive thoughts.
He was so gentle last night, taking you until you both could barely move, dropping to the bed from pure exhaustion. He even ran you a bath after, helping wash your hair and scrub your body with such delicacy that you cried because he wasn’t just telling you that he loved you but making an effort to show it.
Your giggles fill the room when he flips you to lie on your back and settles his large body over yours, naked hips tucked between your legs and keeping his chest pressed against yours. Neither of you put on clothes after your bath, Sukuna claiming he couldn’t sleep without feeling your skin. One of his hands was on your hip and the other was holding himself over you. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to.
Not that you did, you were right where you wanted to be.
“Going somewhere sweetheart?”
He’s smiling down at you with sleepy eyes and your heart stutters because he looks ethereal with the morning light hitting his face, so soft even with his tattoos, so completely yours. You reach a hand up to caress his face and the way his breath hitches has you smirking knowingly.
You had Sukuna wrapped around your pretty little finger.
“Never.” You whisper, arms coming up to wrap around his neck, eyes burning into his red ones so intimately you felt you might combust.
A satisfied rumble vibrates through his chest, his eyes trailing to your lips before he’s placing his forehead to yours. The morning sun is shining through the room and the way his eyes glow a little brighter sends flutters through your body. The domesticity of this moment has your heart thumping, realizing just how unusual this is for Sukuna, the man who took what he wanted and moved on.
Yet here he was with you, holding you like he was afraid to let go, like if he loosened his grip just a little you would disappear.
“You’re staring.” His voice was angelic, rough with lingering sleep and he was staring through your soul, eyes locked on yours like you were the only person in the world. Like he was committing this moment to memory.
“Hmm, I am-” Your voice cracked as tears started to blur your vision and before you could give him a chance to comment on it, you pulled him down and pressed your lips against his. Losing yourself in this moment, savoring every second you were with him because Sukuna was clearly in love but you were hopelessly devoted. Foolishly lost to his existence.
The kiss was extra soft, soul crushingly desperate in the way you clung to him. Every emotion you couldn't put into words poured into it instead. Every day you spent hiding your feelings for him came spilling out into one singular kiss. All the love that you had no idea what to do with, you gave it all to him.
When he finally pulled back to catch his breath, not you but him, his eyes were shining and his lips were red and glossy with your spit. You even noticed the purple marks on his neck, generous gifts you gave him last night as a reminder that he was yours. He looks thoroughly claimed.
“I love you.” You can’t help but to say it again and the way his smile softens, the joke written on his tongue dissolving into adoration. His body pressed flush against yours, the feel of his bare chest burning through your skin.
“I know.” He nuzzles his nose against yours, breathing your air and it sends chills through your body. A tear escapes and slides down your face before you can stop it. Fuck, you were so gone. “I love you too, baby. Love you so much.”
It had been a very long time since Sukuna was able to take a true full breath. One not riddled with childhood trauma, one that actually made him feel like he was alive and human again. He almost felt it when his daughter was born but he had still been accepting the fact that he was a father so his body denied him that relief. And what a breath of fresh air it had been when he told you he loved you and you said it back.
You fucking said it back and said it again the next day, no sign of doubt in your honey laced voice and Sukuna might as well have died and went to heaven. That uncommon feeling of insecurity that had him in a chokehold, the idea that you somehow didn’t feel the same, had dissolved in the matter of seconds just by hearing three little words.
He would have laid in bed with you all day but he promised to pick up your shared daughter before practice, giving you time to cram in some last minute studying before he was gone most of the day.
Sukuna had told you that after practice he had some frat obligations to carry out but that wasn’t entirely truthful. Sure, he did have to stop by the fraternity but that was only to tell them that he was out. His priority no longer lied with his chosen brothers but to the family he had pledged his life to, the only pledge worth keeping.
Gojo’s response had only been to smile and say: “About damn time bro.”
He also had another stop to make, nothing too big, just going ring shopping with the only person that knew you probably better than he did. Nanami. The man immediately agreed when Sukuna told him his plans to propose to you at practice, and now that they were standing in a jewelry shop, the pink haired giant began to panic.
What if you didn’t want to get married? He remembered the conversation with Nanami when you told him you were pregnant and he hinted at Sukuna marrying you. You had specifically said “What makes you think I want to get married?”
What if there was still truth to that? Sure, you had said that you loved him but people loved others all the time without wanting to tie themselves to their partner legally. Doubt, another foreign feeling to him, pooled in his stomach and twisted until he felt nauseous. You had reduced him to a coward and he hated it. Since when had Sukuna been afraid of rejection? If a girl denied him, he respected their wishes and moved onto the next. There was a long line of women throwing themselves at him, he never had time to sulk over it.
But they weren’t you and this was far from some drunken one night stand. You were the woman who made him a father, who he wanted to share a last name with, who slowly tore down that brick wall guarding his heart. Piece by piece, layer by layer until he was left bare and confessing the embarrassing amount of love he held for you.
Fuck it. He was already here, might as well get the fucking thing over with.
The store was humming with soft classical music as Sukuna stood stiffly beside Nanami, hating every second of this. Wishing he was home with you and his daughter, locked away in your own little domain where only you three existed.
“You seem nervous. There’s no need to be, (name) isn’t a very picky person, it’s really the thought that counts.”
Before Sukuna could deny it, tell his possibly soon to be brother in law that he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about, a sales associate approached with a bright smile plastered on their face and Sukuna instantly had a headache.
“Welcome! Are we shopping for anything special today?” His overly enthusiastic smile pissed Sukuna off, which was ridiculous because he knew others' happiness shouldn’t annoy him, even if it was clearly fake as hell.
“An engagement ring and we don’t need help.” He answers flatly, ignoring the way the salesman’s eyes widened before he cools his expression into a practiced calm, staring nervously up at the 6 '5, tattooed college student who was sporting a glare that warned the man to fuck off.
Nanami’s giving Sukuna a scathing look, but he can’t see it because he’s too busy looking at the display of rings (why the fuck were there so many?) but he can feel the disappointment seeping from him.
“Of course sir! Apologies, please let me know if you need anything at all. I’d be glad to help.” And he’s sprinting to brother someone else and Sukuna is glad because while he may have softened for you and his child, and in extension tolerated Nanami, that kindness didn’t apply to strangers.
“You’re truly an asshole dude.” Nanami seethes while pinching the bridge of his nose, red creeping up his neck.
Sukuna almost laughs, almost. Instead he settles on a smirk because you would hate it if you found out they were arguing after growing closer during your pregnancy. Sukuna was being good for you, changing for you.
“Good thing I’m not marrying you.”
Nanami ignores the comment because he would rather literally explode than be stuck with Sukuna for the rest of his life. He was here for you and because he knew his teammate would fuck this up without him.
Sukuna starts moving around the shop, his annoyance growing because everything he pointed out Nanami claimed you wouldn’t like. Everything Nanami pointed out, Sukuna criticized.
“No. Absolutely not. Too small. Too ugly. What the fuck is that?”
A woman nearby gives Sukuna a scandalous look at the last comment and Nanami pretends not to know him. He can’t imagine how his friend looks right now in the eyes of someone who didn’t know him, hat on backwards and dressed in a compression shirt that showed how his muscles flexed as his anger grew. Red eyes blazing, mouth turned downward and his face set in a permanent sneer.
Sukuna was truly scary. What on earth did you see in him?
“What’s your budget?” He asks as they move to a different display case. These ones seem a little more up your alley, though the price tags had him sweating. Nanami could remember a conversation you had as children where you said your ideal ring was a blue ring pop and while these weren’t the candy you loved back then, they damn near matched in size.
Sukuna deadpans him and Nanami’s cheeks turn a light tint of red. He sometimes forgot that the Itadori’s had enough money to buy half the country if they wanted to.
“Right, I forgot. Trust fund baby.”
Sukuna didn’t have a budget. He wasn’t reckless with money after receiving his inheritance, he typically lived very frugally for someone of his background. The only times he’d ever really splurged was on his car, shopping for his daughter, the apartment he bought you, and apparently now.
The ring he was eyeing was ridiculously expensive, nearly ¥6,409,720 and it was huge as fuck, likely to swallow your finger. It was perfect, exactly what Sukuna was looking for and Nanami actually agreed. He wanted to be sure no one would miss the way it sat pretty on your finger, telling the entire world that you were his.
“That one.”
It’s May now. Graduation is coming up and Sukuna has been in full blown soccer mode the past month, the sport consuming his life. He’s barely had time to think let alone propose to you and he bought that fucking ring weeks ago. Between classes, games, and parenting, it seemed like he couldn’t get a moment to himself.
Your baby just turned ten weeks, a little over two months old now and the pride and joy of yours and Sukuna’s life. The tiny newborn was now a chunky infant with round cheeks and an ever changing face that resembled you more and more each passing day. Sukuna told you how perfect that was, that now there were two of you that he could love and spoil.
She was smiling a lot more, staring too now that her visual tracking was improving. One night you had been typing away at your laptop, baby strapped in her bouncer as you worked on your final paper for your philosophy class.
When she made a sound you looked down at her just to find she had already been staring at you and your heart stuttered. Your daughter was Sukuna’s reflection but you were starting to make out your own features in her, like how she had your eye shape but his color, hair texture closer to yours but his red. She was becoming a true split of her parents.
You were going back on campus a lot more now too, especially since your parents decided that they lived too far away and would be moving closer to you. Closer as in a five minute walk away and you were grateful. They were beyond smitten with your daughter, commenting on how she did look like her father but they could see their old friend in her too and how symbolic it was that she shared a name with her late grandmother.
Today was game day. The weather was actually warm enough that you didn’t need a jacket, though your daughter was still slightly bundled in pink against your chest, tucked securely in her carrier. You thanked God that Sukuna had brought your baby protective headphones because the stands were loud, students and families filling in to support their loved one on the field. Nearby freshmen were chanting and the game hadn’t even started yet.
You adjusted your daughter’s headphones before pulling her tighter against your chest. She was up today, curious eyes trying their best to look around with her face pressed against your body. And while she was looking at the hundreds of new faces and bright lights, you were focused on the field, looking for a head of pink hair that had stolen your heart all those months ago.
You and your parents had gotten there early enough to get a front row seat so it would be easier for him to find you. Jin had even come with little Yuji who insisted on sitting next to his baby cousin. What you didn’t know was that Sukuna could find you in a room of a thousand.
He was currently on the field talking strategy with Nanami and his teammates. The game was about to start when he looked to the crowd and immediately spotted you. His stomach was flipping again but it did that every time he saw you and while he had grown used to it, it was different this time.
There you were, wearing a jersey that had his team’s colors, hair pulled behind your head with one of his hats on that had his number, his daughter tucked against your chest. The sight turned into a core memory, the way everyone else blurred and the only thing he could see was you and his baby. It was something he thought you only saw in movies but it was actively happening to him and Sukuna didn’t know what he did to get so lucky.
He was far from the type of guy you’d bring home to meet your parents. He wasn’t kind, had a terrible past of using people to get what he wanted, the reputation he built during his frat days not something one would be proud of and yet here he was. Staring at his future wife and his child, sitting in the stands wearing his colors, your face scrunched up and eyes squinted as you looked for him, just as he did the night he met you.
What a fucking turn of events.
Sukuna starts walking across the field, ignoring his teammates and coach asking where he was going. He had a few minutes before the game and he was craving the taste of your lips. Who cares if he was mid strategy?
When Sukuna reaches the fence separating the bleachers from the field, you’re smiling so bright that it momentarily blinds him as you hold your daughter's bum and stand, moving toward the fence. He’s wearing a cocky grin but Sukuna can feel his heart doing somersaults because you looked so fucking edible, and he was suddenly starving.
He felt the way he did watching you dance at that party nearly a year ago, completely hypnotized and wanting nothing more than to claim you. Only this time it was more than sex, sure he wanted to fuck you until you were creaming on cock but he wanted the world to know that you were his. His mind flashed back to the ring, how it would look on your finger if once you said yes, the smile you would wear looking down at him on one knee.
Once you're close enough, Sukuna reaches an arm over the fence and while being mindful of his daughter, pulls you closer until his lips were hovering just above yours. The way you were wide eyed and fighting back a laugh had his smirk widening, eyes knowing nothing but your face.
“Hi.” He whispered, completely oblivious to the people staring because no one else existed in this moment. It was just you, him and the baby strapped to your chest.
“Hi.” You swallow hard and he notices your attention drifting behind him and for a split second, white hot jealousy courses through his body because he wanted your attention to be solely on him. “Your coach looks like he’s going to murder you.”
He doesn’t acknowledge that because he couldn't care less what his coach thinks, hooking a finger under your chin and turning your head back to him. He could practically feel the heat from your face, your wide glossy eyes doing nothing to help the growing pool of need whirling deep in his chest. You were so beautiful, his perfect future wife.
“Missed you baby.”
And when you laugh his heart leaps, the sound the closest thing someone like him would probably get to experiencing heaven. Fuck, you were too good for him but he was going to selfishly keep you anyways.
“You just saw me this morning.”
“Hmmm, too long.” And before you could respond he’s pressing his lips against yours, the sound of his name being called fading away because the only thing he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears as his lips were lost to yours.
It ended all too soon. He had hesitantly pulled back before he decided the game wasn’t that important, his self control always hanging on a loose thread whenever it came to you.
Before you could stop him, he was reaching over and pulling his daughter from her carrier, paying no mind to the way you scolded him and the whistle his coach was blowing. Sukuna knew he was pissed but he’d deal with that later.
“Ryomen!” You shrieked but he could hear the laughter in your voice. The way you were enjoying this just as much as he was.
“Hey brat.” He’s barely smiling at the baby in his arms, but stars are exploding behind his eyes at the sight of his heart in his hands. She looks so cute with her little headphones, her head so small that they were swallowing her. He’s giving her kisses on the chubby cheeks he’d never admit to becoming obsessed with, relishing in the gummy smile she gave when she recognized her father’s voice.
His coach was calling his name for the nth time followed by a string of curses and Sukuna pulled his daughter close, breathing in her baby scent and giving her a final kiss on the head before tucking her back in her carrier.
With a defeated pout, he’s shooting you a wink and running back to the field.
They won the game that day by a landslide, Sukuna playing a little extra hard just so he could impress you. He was already a beast on the field but a need to gain your praise had burned through him and it led to him scoring most of the goals, even though there were two other forwards on his team.
To celebrate their win, a party was being thrown in their honor but Sukuna had declined, stating he had better plans than getting drunk with people he could hardly tolerate.
Later that night he was standing in front of the mirror in his room, smoothing down his dress shirt, anxiety on ten as his mind ran wild with thoughts that you wouldn’t like his outfit for your date night. Sukuna would fucking die before he wore a suit (we all know he’d wear it if you asked) but he made an effort since tonight was the night he planned on finally proposing to you. He even bought a chain after you mentioned he would look good with gold jewelry, the metal sitting cold against his chest and peeking through the top of his v neck shirt.
The small box was burning a hole through his pant pocket and he hated the look his twin was giving him through the mirror, arms crossed at his chest as he held his gaze behind those stupid glasses. If anyone knew him, it was him and he knew that Jin could probably smell the nervousness on him.
“You’ve changed.”
Sukuna grumbles like an angry old man, pushing his coral hair back and opting to ignore his brother's comment. Unfortunately, Jin wasn’t the type to let things go and Sukuna regretted asking him to babysit.
No one had been able to get under his skin the way his twin did but Sukuna would never admit that Jin also kept him humble. He knew the scared young boy he used to be and even though their personalities differed greatly and his brother never agreed with his fuckboy ways, he had never turned away from him. Sukuna would even admit that Jin was his platonic soulmate, even though he was sure that you were his twin flame.
“I mean it in a good way, idiot. Take it as a compliment, they’ve changed you for the better, you’re less grumpy. It’s refreshing, I missed this version of you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was useless denying it, Jin had experienced every era of his life and the connection they had as identical twins ran deep. Sukuna was far from an open book, to everyone but his wombmate of course.
“You’ve spent the last five minutes making sure your shirt was good enough.”
“I’m making sure I don’t look stupid.” But it was so much more than that because caring what others thought was never a part of Sukuna’s personality and Jin knew that, though he wasn’t about to argue with his brother who was equally as stubborn as he was.
“Sure, Ryomen. We’ll go with that.”
After spending another ten minutes making sure he looked decent enough for you, he finally stepped out of your now shared room and into the living room. Wiping his sweaty palms down his pants, angry that he couldn’t get a hold on his nerves enough to not look like a fool in front of you. Why was he acting like a loser that never interacted with a woman before?
He froze at the sight of you, entire body buzzing with awe because standing before him was his future and you looked like a goddess, entirely out of his league. You were wearing a long sleeved square neck red dress that hugged your postpartum hips perfectly, your hair down and falling over your shoulders. Red gloss spread across your lips and he wondered what you tasted like.
Sukuna could smell the vanilla perfume from across the room. It clouded his senses and helped him drag his feet toward you.
You were looking admiringly at the ground where Yuji was lying on his stomach across from his cousin, watching her with wide eyes and a toothy smile as she did tummy time. Sukuna stole a quick glance before looking back at you.
Just as he was about to speak you turned around and the look you gave him had his tongue tied, the small smile making his head spin. Fuck. Every logical bone in his body told him to compliment you, but he was so lost in your eyes he forgot how to speak. Until Jin ruined it by smacking the back of his head and giving him a look that told him to speak up.
He gave his brother a glare who simply smirked and moved around him so he could sit with the children, picking up his niece and laughing at how Yuji immediately shot up and asked to hold her. Sukuna’s frown disappeared the moment he heard your laugh though. Your hand was covering your mouth and he wanted to scold you for hiding it from him.
Instead he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, face growing hot with nervousness as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you this morning telling you over and over how much he loved you.
“You look handsome.” You were moving closer and fixing the collar of his shirt, hand trailing to hover over the necklace on his chest but your eyes never left his. Sukuna could feel his cock twitching at your touch, hand coming up to grab your hip and pull you closer.
“Yeah? Tried my best just for you baby.” And he relished in the way your breath hitched, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his mouth to kiss. He let his lips linger for a few seconds, enjoying the feel of your skin against his mouth before you both said your goodbyes and he was walking you out the door.
Sukuna kept his hand on your lower back as he led you toward the restaurant he had reserved the day he bought the ring sitting heavy in his pocket. The closer you got to the building the more confused you became. The parking lot was damn near empty which was unusual for this place and you would know because it was notoriously hard to get a table here.
“Are they closed?” You glance at him but he presses his hand against your back, urging you forward despite the suspiciousness of the situation.
“No.”
“Then where is everyone?” You didn’t think twice about the way he clenched his jaw or the slight tremble in hand as he moved it from behind your back and opened the door for you.
“You ask too many questions.”
You hit his chest, annoyed he wouldn’t answer because they were totally valid questions. It was too dead for a restaurant as popular as this one. You wonder what strings Sukuna pulled to even get a table on such short notice.
“And you’re being weird. What-” The words die on your tongue at the sight staring back at you.
The restaurant was empty, soft music filling the air and all the tables had been removed except for one that hosted two chairs. There were red roses scattered throughout the space, candles flickering in the dim room, the only people there being the staff members that moved with purpose throughout the room.
Your head slowly turns to him as he moves to stand next to you. He’s avoiding eye contact but living with him for so long had given you the ability to tell when he was nervous. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Sukuna had bought out the fucking resturant.
“Did you-”
“S’not a big deal.” But the way you’re smiling and your eyes are widened in pure shock is.
Your smile shouldn’t affect him as much as it did but Sukuna felt something tightening in his chest and how could anyone blame him for staring when you were that cute? His pretty girl. He was so fucking whipped, it was borderline concerning.
Sukuna was grateful you didn’t push the matter. He just wanted one night that belonged entirely to the two of you. No strangers recognizing him from games. No crying babies, no family members, no school responsibilities demanding your attention.
Just you. For one evening, he wanted you all to himself.
The hostess welcomes you both in and leads you to the table sat near a huge window that overlooked Tokyo’s skyline and the view left you breathless. It wasn’t your first time seeing it but you still hadn’t grown used to the city, having grown up in the outskirts of it. Thousands of stars shined against the darkening sky as the sun disappeared and you turned to point out the sheer beauty to Sukuna, only he wasn’t looking at the view.
He was too busy looking at you and the intensity of his gaze had butterflies shooting straight to your cunt. The way he insisted on looking at you like no other woman existed always left you shy and needy and it didn’t help that he looked so fucking delicous in that outfit. The chain sending your mind racing with truly filthy thoughts.
“Y-you should, ahem, look at the view. It’s b-beautiful.” You felt so fucking stupid, stuttering like a teenager who had a crush on her brother’s older hot friend.
“I am.” He hums and moves closer, shrugging off his leather jacket and laying it on the seat next to you.
You gasp and take a step backward but it didn’t matter because he simply followed you, like a magnet being pulled by metal. He didn’t stop until your back was against the window and he was hovering over you, both arms pressed against the glass and caging you in.
Your panties were starting to grow wet, heart and body melting at the way he was staring at you, red eyes blazing into yours and telling you he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.
“Need you so bad baby, can’t wait.”
Sukuna doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s dipping his head to run his nose against your neck, inhaling deep and growing rock hard at your scent. Perfume had never made him feel this desperate before but he was hardly ashamed at the hopeless want he felt toward you.
“Sukuna, we’re n-not, mmm, we’re not alone.” You’re pushing at his shoulders and he sighs in annoyance, shooting a scowl at the workers over his shoulder. How fucking stupid could they be?
He was clearly about to fuck you and they were stood there staring like cuck morons. But he didn’t have to say a word because the death glare had done its job and they scattered off. He could feel your shoulders shaking with laughter, his anger instantly dissolving.
“You’re such a meanie.” You tease, hands going to play with the hair at his nape and Sukuna felt the precum oozing into his boxers.
“You still love me though, don’t you baby?” Any joke you were going to make was gone the moment he crashed his lips against yours, your hands tugging tightly at his slick back hair as he pressed himself against you. The way your tits were pressed against his chest felt amazing and made him want more.
You were moaning into his mouth, your tongues clashing as you traded spit and he tasted so fucking sweet, you need more. You take his tongue into your mouth and suck, the taste of mint heavy. You only stop when you feel his fingers lift your dress and brush against your clothed pussy, head thrown back as you moan embarrassingly loud, smacking a hand over your mouth because you would die if anyone other than Sukuna heard how pathetic you were for him.
You two hadn’t even sat down before he was on you like you were a drug he was addicted to. The fact that he hadn’t lost his attraction to you after you birthed his daughter and your body changed, only pulled you deeper in this obsessive force spewing between the two of you. It grew stronger by the day and a normal person might be concerned if their thoughts consisted mostly of him and his touch, but you were far from normal.
He continues his assault on your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise, his fingers pulling your panties to the side and sending you reeling when they finally make contact with your leaking cunt.
Sukuna smirks against your neck, moving his head to nibble on your earlobe. “So wet for me already, pretty. So fucking needy. Tell me what you want.”
His voice vibrates through your body and your hips buck against his hand, demanding more pressure, needing him inside of you. Fuck the foreplay. You pressed a hand to his pants, his rock hard cock twitching at the feel of you, and you squeeze.
Sukuna gasps and groans, grinding into it and leaning his forehead against yours, loose pieces of pink hair falling forward.
“Want you to fuck me, Ryo. Been thinking about it since you left this morning.” Meaning you’ve been thinking about it since he stuffed you full before leaving for his game. It hadn’t even been 12 hours since he last fucked you and already-
He was bending you over the table before you knew it, hiking your dress up and pulling his pants and boxers down. His cock slapped against his stomach, pre-cum leaking from his red tip and trickling down his length. Sukuna usually wouldn’t fuck you without prepping you with his fingers or tongue first, but he needed to take you to clear his mind before proposing to you. And right now his brain was telling him that he needed to be inside of you, filling until you were dripping with his cum.
You cry out when he rubs his length up and down your folds before slamming into you. He bottomed out in one thrust, hands shaking as they gripped your hips and pulled you closer, your ass pressing against his groin.
The sounds coming from you were nasty in the hottest way possible, your wet cunt gripping him so fucking tight and he didn’t give you a moment to adjust, rutting into you and fighting the urge to cum.
“Haaah, it’s too big Ryo, I-I c-can’t take ittt.” You cried out, hands gripping the table so tight you thought it might break it the force you were using to keep yourself upright. Your boobs were swinging, entire body shaking from the way he was pounding into you.
“You can and you will.” He grunts, looking down to watch the way his cock disappears into your sweet pussy, gummy walls squeezing him so fucking good he was actively fighting back his rising orgasm.
You were seeing stars, hips burning from his grip on you, each slam sending cups and plates falling to the ground and shattering. Neither of you cared, too lost in the moment, in the way you fit just perfectly for the other, like you had been sculpted with the sole purpose of molding together.
“Uhhhh Ryo, don’t ss-stop, feels s’good, oh god!” You whined and moved your hips to meet his thrust. That doesn’t last long before he’s squeezing your hips to keep you still and leaning over your body, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
He moves a hand to squeeze your jaw until you get the hint and open up, tongue sticking out as he spit a glob into your mouth and you swallow like the good whore you were, pussy clenching down hard at the feeling of being totally dominated.
“F-fuck don’t do that. M’not gonna last long baby.” He can feel his balls tightening and he refuses to get off before you do, wrapping his arm around your neck and pulling you until you’re both standing with your chest flat against his back.
That’s when an idea hit him. You loved that view so much right? Before he can think rationally about doing it, he's wrapping both arms around your waist and carrying you to the window, his cock slipping out and you’re too busy with your eyes closed to notice what he’s doing.
Not until he’s setting you down again and bending you over, grabbing your sweaty hands in his and placing them on the window.
“Ryo- w-what are you doing? We can’t, someone will see- OH!” He slams back into you without warning, chuckling at your fucked out state before he continues his relentless attack on your pussy.
Realistically, you were high up enough to where no one would notice you two, which is why he ignored your comment and instead focused on how good you felt gripping around his cock. No matter how much Sukuna fucked you, he would never get used to the feeling of you underneath him, moaning like a good little slut while he split you open on his length.
His perfect soon to be wife and he knew he was never gonna let up on you. Never give anyone else the chance to experience your heaven sent pussy.
“Let them, sweetheart- fuck! Let them see how much I’m gonna fucking fill this perfect cunt up, you want that? Tell me you want my cum, s- say it baby.”
You could barely breathe with the way he was slamming into you, your pussy contracting around him as more of your juices leaked out, coating the base of his cock in a ring of cream. The sight had the man above you spiraling and crying out a guttural moan. The sound making your stomach tighten., the coil snapping.
“Yes! Please, ngghh, please give it to me. Oh god, m’gonna cum!” The pulsing pleasure that ripped through you was red, your fingers curling and digging into the glass as you rode out your orgasm.
Sukuna wasn’t too far behind, thrusting into you like an animal as he desperately chased his high and helped you ride out yours. He gasped when electricity shot through his stomach, toes digging into the soles of shoes as he reached around to wrap a hand around your throat and pull you back to him.
“Fuck- m’gonna cum, pretty.” Just as he’s about to bust a fat nut, you’re pulling your hips away from his and dropping to your knees.
You had given Sukuna oral before, but seeing you on your knees with your tongue sticking out and hands gripping his thighs had him stunned, though he covered it up with a grin.
“Want it on my face this time. Please Kuna?”
Kuna? That was new but Sukuna loved it, grumbling as he grabbed your chin with one hand and his cock with the other.
Instead of responding, he started pumping his cock, squeezing at the tip before dragging it back down to the base. It didn’t take long before he was throwing his head back and shooting a massive load, white, thick ropes of cum spraying from his tip and onto your face, your tongue, your hair.
"Oh fuuucck"
He kept pumping until he was milked dry, a little upset because nothing felt better than breeding you but loving it nonetheless. Once he caught his breath he was biting back a laugh at the sight of you on the ground, covered in his cum. It was a view he would never forget, you had never looked more like his.
He straightens at your glare, helping you off the ground and grabbing a handkerchief from the table. He wiped your face until it was clear then dropped to his knee and tugged at your legs.
“Open.” He mumbled and you did, shaking and trying your best not to pass out when he started wiping between your legs, pulling your panties aside and cleaning you until you were dry enough to stop leaking.
You would definitely need a shower.
“All good?” Sukuna looks up at you and his heart leaps at the way you stare down at him, mouth slightly open and nodding your head yes. Your hair was a mess, dress hanging off one shoulder and face burning in the aftermath of your intense quickie.
You were so beautiful, fucking flawless and he couldn't imagine going a day without you. The ring in his pocket grew heavy, reminding him that now was his chance to bring his desires to fruition. The perfect moment to speak the four words that had been playing in the back of his head since he bought the ring weeks ago.
“You okay?” You’re smiling softly but he can see the concern on your face, your hand coming out to hold his cheek and he can’t help but turn his head and kiss your wrist, eyes never leaving yours.
How would he even ask? Sukuna was never good with words so he’d just have to, for once, let his heart lead him and hope everything didn’t crash and burn. Before he could back out, he was reaching a hand into his pocket and pulling out a velvet red box, looking back up at you as his hand shook.
You were covering your mouth with your hand, eyes wide as tears filled them. This couldn’t be real, you must have gotten fucked so hard that you got put sleep and this was a dream. Tears began to spill, falling from your cheeks and onto the floor.
Here was the man who swore he didn’t do relationships, bounced from woman to woman for years, claiming they were a waste of time and he’d never tie himself to one person. The frat boy whose life consisted of partying, soccer, and sex.
He shifted onto one knee in front of you, grabbing your hand and littering it in kisses before looking back up at you with a terrified smile. For a few seconds he said nothing, eyes squeezing shut as if he was trying to find the right words, but you knew what he was going to say and had to fight yourself from screaming YES.
The silence lingered, the only sound in the restaurant being the music playing but that was a non factor because the only thing you could focus on was the man on the ground in front of you. When he finally exhaled, chills shot through your body and your knees grew weak.
“You know I’m shit at this.” His hand tightens around the box as you give a watery smile, heart going thump thump thump. “But I'm gonna try anyway.”
He kept his eyes on you, thumb rubbing against the back of your hand as a way to ground himself. Remind him that it was just you and him and that you loved him as much as he loved you.
“When I first met you I was an asshole.” He swallowed hard. “I was selfish. Didn't care about anyone but myself. I did whatever I wanted, fucked whoever I wanted and left because it was easier than caring about people.”
Your breath catches but you say nothing.
“Then you happened and I annoyingly started to care. Fuck-” He clears his throat to hide the way his voice was starting to crack. But you don’t judge, simply squeezed his hand and encouraged him to continue.
“That entire summer I thought about you and when you told me you were pregnant I was fucking terrified but there was always a lingering thought that at least now I’d have you in my life for good. I thought it was just because you were carrying the brat, but I started wanting more after she was born.”
“Even while I stupidly denied my feelings toward you, I hated that we were sleeping in separate rooms. I spent every night wishing you were lying next to me, too dumb to actually do anything about it. Then I fucked up trying to be someone I knew I wasn’t anymore and I’m so fucking sorry it took me this long to do this.”
He kisses your hand one more time before pulling away and opening the box, the huge rock taking you aback because you had never owned anything like it before. One look was all it took to know he spent a fortune on it.
“Ryo-”
“Don’t interrupt me, sweetheart.” You snap your mouth shut, letting your smile grow because this was really happening! You felt like throwing up from the rush of excitement, left hand shaking as he grabbed it again.
“I love you. Not just because you gave me my kid even though she’s pretty fucking amazing, but because you reminded me that Iove could be easy.” His voice goes soft.
“I graduate next week and everything’s going to change.” His grip tightened around the ring. Sukuna was surprised at how easy he had been able to express his feelings to you, the words rolling off his tongue like they had always been destined to be spoken.
“I don’t want to spend a moment of my life without you. I don’t care how hard things get as long as I have you by my side.”
Sukuna inhaled shakily, the words at the tip of his tongue. He was actually doing this, no turning back now.
“Will you marry me-”
“Yes!” You sob out your answer before he can fully finish, dropping to the ground in front of him and grabbing his face in your hands, hot tears spilling. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”
Sukuna feels the weight of the world lift off his chest, relief flooding his bed because you said yes! “Yeah?”
And you’re nodding, smiling through the water works because you loved him so damn much and now you would be able to truly call him yours. You had achieved the impossible and locked down Ryomen Sukuna.
“Thank fuck. Ring was expensive as shit.”
Graduation day came sooner than Sukuna was prepared for. Four years of bullshit papers, lectures, parties and games all reduced to a few hours, a cap and a gown and a piece of paper waiting for him at the end of the stage.
The morning had started in chaos.
Your daughter who was now almost three months old, decided last night that sleep was optional and had been awake since before dawn. By the time you were dressed and ready to leave, there were burp cloths scattered throughout the apartment, a half-finished bottle sitting on the coffee table, and Sukuna was already complaining about his graduation gown.
You looked up from where you were fastening your daughter's tiny floral headband, smiling to yourself at how cute he looked and how proud you were of him, and you. You had both managed to pass your finals despite being new parents. You were going to be a senior, Sukuna was graduating, and it felt so surreal.
"It looks exactly like everyone else's."
He gives a hmph and you laugh, returning your attention to your daughter who was fast asleep in her carseat while you were actively fighting back yawns. Sukuna watches while you tightened her straps before standing and moving toward him.
His eyes falling to the rock shining on your finger, they always do. His fiancé. He wondered how he got so lucky.
Once you’re close enough, you reach up and adjust the cap on his head and Sukuna is completely smitten. Never growing used to the way you always insisted on taking care of him.
His heart was overflowing with love for you, hands going to your waist to pull you close. He stares for a moment, committing every feature of you to memory, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip before leaning down and kissing you. Hoping you’d feel every ounce of devotion he held for you.
“Mmm. Love you, fiancé.”
The stadium was packed by the time everyone arrived. Rows upon rows of graduates filling the seats while family members crowded the stands above. You sat beside your parents and Jin and Yuji, your daughter sound asleep in your lap. Yuki was on your right because you two were the only ones from your group not graduating. The tiny white dress your daughter had been dress in had lasted twenty minutes before she spit up on it and now wore her backup outfit.
It was easy to find Sukuna since he towered over everyone, his gown not doing much to hide his broad shoulders. He was laughing at something Gojo said, the white haired man throwing an arm around his shoulders.
You were an hour into the ceremony when your phone buzzed three times. You adjust your daughter in your arms and unlock the screen, instantly smiling because Sukuna was the one blowing you up.
ryo 💍: miss you already ryo 💍: this is fucking dragging ryo 💍: look up
When you do Sukuna is smirking up at you and sending you a wink. You chuckle and look back down at your phone, bottom lip caught between your teeth, ears on fire.
you: be a good boy and stop complaining, you might get a treat. ryo 💍: don’t tease me brat. when has that ever ended well for you?
Eventually they began calling students names and when they finally reached Sukuna, your daughter woke up from the way you were yelling for your man, Jin and Yuji standing tall and cheering with the rest of the crowd. The four year old almost jumping out his father's arms, yelling "UNC KUNA."
Ever the gym rat, Sukuna takes his degree and holds it up, raising his other arm to flex his muscle, face big on the screen and you’re giggling because deep down he was still that frat boy that stole your heart last summer.
What was that saying? You can take the man out of the frat but you can’t take the frat out of the man.
The ceremony eventually ended and chaos followed. Families were flooding onto the floors below, graduates searching for friends, cameras flashing from every angle. Your dress swished side to side as you made your way to your fiance, Yuki had disappeared to find Choso, your parents: Nanami and Jin followed close behind, holding Yuji’s hand tight so he didn’t run away.
When you finally found Sukuna his gown was open, his cap was off and in his hands and he was giving Gojo a hug. A genuine one without a scowl on his face. The brothers whispering a few words to each other before turning to you.
Before you could say a word, Gojo was saying hello and taking his goddaughter from your arms, littering her cheeks in kisses and Sukuna surprisingly said nothing. He was too busy moving toward you, gripping your hips and pulling you close.
“Now we get to spend more time together, kid!” You heard Gojo say but your eyes were locked on Sukuna’s.
“Congra-”
The giant pulled you to him before you could get the word out and kissed you like he hadn't seen you in weeks instead of hours. You sunk into it, wrapping your hands around his neck as he lifted you off the ground and spinned you around.
You laughed against his mouth, heart full and the reality of your life finally hitting you.
Being a mom in your early 20’s had never been a part of your five year plan, least of all with your brother's fratbro, but there wasn’t a thing you’d change about it. You would pick him to be your husband and the father of your child in every timeline, in every life.
There was no one beside Sukuna. Your heart wholly belonged to him, and his belonged to you. Two dumb college students who found love in the most unlikely of places.
Ten years later
Satoro Gojo was sitting behind his desk, reading through papers about a new business his company was buying out when a soft knock filled the room.
He called for the person to come in, setting the papers down, knowing exactly who it was the moment their knuckles touched his door. When she walked in, he smiled and straightened, still finding it hard to believe how his goddaughter had gone from a drooling baby who loved to bite his fingers, to an actual person with thoughts and feelings of her own.
Her hair was pink as ever and she was taller than the average ten year old, her face sporting the same scowl her father always wore. She looked just like his friend, even though her eyes were as soft as yours.
She was dressed in her soccer uniform still, though Gojo had picked her up from practice an hour ago. She had been staying with him for the next two weeks, as you and Sukuna celebrated your anniversary out of the country. Gojo never wanted to have kids of his own, so having her occasionally come over was a blessing he never failed to be thankful for.
“What’s up, kid?”
She hesitated, her frown deepening and his concern skyrocketed. Though the girl's attitude rivaled her father's, the two often bumping heads, she was typically a happy child. A genuine frown on her face was unlike her.
When she didn’t respond, only shrugged, Gojo stood from behind his desk and crossed the room to her. She was far too big now to enjoy being picked up, so he opted for leading her to the couch in the corner of his office, sitting her down and giving her that look. The one that said “speak or no roblox money.”
For a moment she simply stared at her hands, cheek dusted pink as she tried to find her words.
“Do you think my dad loves soccer more than me?”
Gojo’s heart sank. As silly as they were together, the cool uncle who never took life too seriously and always gave her things her parents said no to, he realized she was still just a kid. One who was apparently worried that her father didn’t love her enough.
“Oh, princess. I promise that couldn’t be further from the truth.” He pulled her close, hand stroking her hair as her frown deepened.
Gojo understood where the hurt was coming from. Sukuna had never quit soccer after college, not finding any trouble getting into the leagues and since professionals always had somewhere they needed to be, he ended up missing her school concert last month.
A few dinners here and there, nothing consistent but children noticed everything and it clearly bothered her.
“Then why did he miss my concert for a stupid meeting?”
Damn that man. Gojo thought carefully of what to say because he knew he hadn’t done it on purpose. If there was one thing he knew, it was that no one in this life or the next loved her more than Sukuna did, but parents got busy and sometimes made mistakes.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
She looks up at him with innocent red eyes, head shaking as strings of hair fall from her braid. He loved her so damn much, she was the only kid he’d ever have and he’d do just about anything for her.
"When your dad was in college, he almost got kicked off the soccer team because he left in the middle of strategy to come see you."
Despite her distressed state, a smile slowly appeared. Your smile.
“Now I wasn’t there, but I have it on good authority that he pointed at you every time he scored.” The good word was the gossip that spread after the game and the fact that Sukuna almost punched him when Gojo teased him about it.
He smiled at the memory, a part of him missing the days he shared with his frat brothers.
“I don’t believe you uncle Toru.” She squints her eyes suspiciously, arms crossing at her chest.
“When have I ever lied to you?” Gojo squeezes her shoulder, looking down at her with a small smile.
“Your dad loves a lot of things, kid. Soccer, your mom, being a grumpy asshole.”
That pulls a laugh from her as she nods her head in agreement. Good. All Gojo ever wanted in life was for her to be happy, and to be the second father she could always come to when she was feeling down or unsure about anything.
“But do you know what your dad loves the most?”
She looked up at him, shaking her head from side to side but her eyes were hopeful. Gojo ruffles her hair.
“You.”
He had known Sukuna for a massive chunk of his life, befriending him when they were only in high school. He watched him become a father, a husband, and go from fratboy to a domesticated family man and world known soccer player.
He was sure about one thing when it came to Sukuna, and it was that there was no universe where he’d pick soccer over his family.
When you and your husband finally returned a week later, the little girl wasted no time and crashed herself into her father, tears pouring down her face. The force almost knocked him backward but without hesitation, he caught her. Arms wrapping protectively around her as he chuckled and placed a kiss to the top of her head.
“Hi sweetheart. Missed me that much?”
Gojo watched from the porch with relief. Watched as Sukuna picked up his ten year old daughter, her legs wrapping around his waist and your arms curling around them both.
Some things never changed. Not after two years, not after five, and not after ten. No matter how big she got, she would always be Sukuna’s little girl and he would always love her more than anything in this world.
In the end, you had showed that Ryomen Sukuna does in fact do relationships and he had never been more happy to see his friend proven wrong.
the end.
❦ lisa's note: so this is the end.. i just combined ch. 6 and 7 plus the epilogue into one since they weren't very long and im sad because this series is officially over. i'll be posting the remaining one-shots in between my other fics but for now we're saying goodbye to frat dad kuna. thank you for riding along, I'm blown away at how well received this series was. thank you sm my lovies, there's more to come soon.
series tags: @httpswilloww @kingjuliancypher @itoldyouimanalien @4ngelc0ded @natsolox @planetnico @junipersdiary @unlimited-impressions @radiantlyviolentskull @jae-n0 @cupidsblonde @nova-rush @choochoocho @ttyl0lxyx @cheacheasstuff @nanamistieonfridays @sukunash0e @bathingape00 @prettygalleria @hyeon3y @yorukana @raeyelora @tsnataly @dollyplayhouse @kidd3ath @catkuna @areyna @nyaaaaa3 @euphwriwjk-blog @ejk31 @underratedmage @xadenpoop @lovebuglissas @voidst4r @Emeraldpurple @shittypunkbarbeque @urmomswitch @maidofking123 @shazzer29 @princssjellyfishs @alebrasil0101 @hoppitysstuff @meanielotus @733164 @ambrosiarosesworld @kiikiigojo @prettygirllkk000 @addictedtotvshows1 @angel-ishere @animez96 @k1yomee @happyfoxtechnomancer @sleepyxmochii
get in loser we’re gonna try again despite it all
Proboxer!sukuna finds solace in pleasuring his white swan ballerina!reader.
Training has been a pain in the ass lately, especially because of his upcoming big match with the guy rumored to match his strength. Satoru Gojo. The hype is at its all-time high, with only 2 weeks to go. That means the press is always on his ass, he’s getting paparazzi'd more often than not, and has more interviews than ever.
Sukuna can handle anything thrown at him, any obstacles, any need to improve; he always has. Sukuna surpasses himself to keep his title as the King of the Ring. He’s still human, though, and the stress has been weighing down on his shoulders for far too long now. He requires a break from it all, a place to clear his mind and let out all his frustrations, too.
A full-body massage sounds nice, or a hot, relaxing bath after a long evening, yet he only desires one person.
She lives in his expensive penthouse in the heart of Tokyo in her own studio, which he had built solely for her to practice in. A rising star in the ballet industry, headlining Pointe magazine. Having performed all over the world, you soon made a name for yourself with your nimble moves and graceful legs. It also helped that your beloved boyfriend is a deadly killing machine in the ring, known as undefeated and undisputed.
He walks inside, body heavy and sticky from old sweat. His footsteps are quiet as he pads through the living room, dropping his bags down beside the glass coffee table and following the melodious tune coming from the house’s halls.
He stands in the doorway, entranced as he watches you finish your routine. Each twirl you execute seems so effortless and fluid, leaving him in awe of your grace. The soft glow of the studio lights dances across your hair, making it sparkle like glitter. You land in one last twirl right in front of him and do a little bow before looking up at him. “You’re home. How was your day?” You quiet down as you take a moment to take in his body language.
He’s tense, breathing heavily with that look in his eyes you knew too well when he’s in the mood. His crimson eyes locked on yours, a nonsensical scowl signaling he demanded you in the bedroom at once.
His voice is low and hoarse, raspy from how much work he had put in today.
“Come here.”
You allowed his large hand, big enough to engulf your wrist, to tug you closer. Your body is pressing up against his solid chest.
“Long day?” your voice trembles as he leans closer to your ear.
“You have no idea.”
His voice is rough and agitated.
“I need to relax.” He kisses a slow trail up your neck, nipping the skin right on your pulse point.
“And you know just how to make me feel better.”
.
.
.
It’s been about 30 minutes since he’s trapped you under him, nude legs over his broad shoulders as he fingers you dumb. In just those 30 minutes, he’s made you cum 2 times already, overstimulating you to the point of no return.
It all happened so fast. One second you're in your studio, the next you're being carried to the grand bedroom, his hands clawing your clothes away from your body, leaving you naked on the bed, confused and turned on beyond comprehension.
Two thick fingers curl deep inside you, making a come-hither motion repeatedly. It’s inhumanly impossible how deep you can feel him inside your spongy walls. You know he has enormous hands, yet they surprise you each time he stretches you open until you're sobbing his name like a mantra.
“Cmon pretty girl, you can take some more. Hm? I need to stretch you nice and loose for me if you wanna be able to take me,” he chuckles darkly, slapping your hands that’re trying to cover your abused clit from his working fingers.
“Now, now. I’m the one in charge here,” he angles his wrist to the right, stroking your gummy walls just right enough for you to whine his name.
“Right here? Or…” he changes his angle again, adding a third finger to the mix. This time, your hips lift off the mattress to chase the feelings. You can’t control your body anymore. Your once-strong legs are trembling like leaves. I mean, how could they not be? This asshole has been edging you for the past half hour.
Your body doesn't know whether to run away or chase the feeling; it’s not like you have a lot of choices. His other hand moves up to press down on your fluttering tummy, pinning you successfully to the bed. His strength is tenfold yours; there’s no way to escape the onslaught of pure ecstasy.
“Ryo, please, hnng..” You’re babbling nonsense, head lolling to the side of the pillow, drool dripping down the side of your mouth as your brain blanks.
“Please, what? You can’t even finish your sentence, three fingers and you’re that gone? Thought you were better than that,” he scoffs, lowering himself closer to your face.
He captures your lips in a rough kiss, swallowing every needy moan of yours that elicits each time he curls right where you're most sensitive inside your wet cunt.
“I can’t even pull my fingers out without it sucking me back in. You don’t want it to stop, huh?” he taunts, that cocky smirk of his mocking your tender state.
“Shut up…Ryo. Just put it in already!” Your body feels tingly all over, and you can’t form any other words except for his name. Your slick drips down his wrist onto the expensive silk bedsheets below. They don’t matter anyway; he could easily afford to replace them. This would make it the third silk sheet that needs to be replaced this week.
“Crying for my cock now, hm? Who said we could move on?” His hand slides up your tummy to massage your breasts slowly. He pulls at your nipples, massaging both perky buds with care before pinching them maliciously, making you cry out.
“Fuck, you felt so tight when I did that,” he murmurs in a low, gruff voice, his breath hot against your skin. Your hands grip his wrists tightly, trying to stop him from continuing the delicious torture, while your other hand tangles in the soft strands of his pink, unruly hair, your nails digging into his scalp, an anchor amidst bliss.
His thumb from the same hand curling inside you joins in, circling your already tender clit from earlier assaults. You whine loudly, the hand on his head moving down to scratch down the nape of his neck.
Your legs still on his shoulders close around his neck, locking him in place on top of you.
“I think I’m gonna cum…. It feels weird….I think I have to pee. Stop!” you warn, tears welling up in your eyes. It feels like you need to pee and cum at the same time. A strange feeling you didn’t want to tip over, but it looks like you have no choice.
He pins both your wrists easily above your head, the three fingers inside of you picking up the pace just slightly. His palm smacks your clit just right, and then before you can register-
SPLASH
Your thighs tense, and a violent shudder overcomes your body when you reach your third orgasm of the night. You scream out his name, legs kicking against his back. Your body is twitching away from his hands, too overwhelmed with pleasure to process any more stimulation.
But something feels different; your thighs are slippery. Not to mention that the sheets under you feel soaked. Did you..?
“Holy shit. Did you just squirt?” his hand halted as he let up. He sits back on his heels, letting your toned, quivering legs fall limp on the bed. He brings his soaked hand towards him, making eye contact with you, and he sucks and licks away all your juices clean from himself.
“Taste’s sweeter than usual. Just what I needed after a long day,” he hums, taking his time to watch your chest rise and fall. You look so pretty under him, flushed pink and shaking with remnants of the pleasure lingering. You can’t even catch your breath. He’s spreading your legs open again, allowing him to slot right between your legs.
“Now, the fun part.” His smirk is dark and twisted, dripping with sadistic delight as he takes in the remnants of your tears, those faded stains marring your cheeks. With a predatory manner, he leans closer, his tongue flicking out to catch the fresh trails of tears that trickle down your face.
You wouldn’t be anywhere else.
Sukuna shows up at your place so drunk that it’s like he genuinely doesn’t remember you broke up two months ago. He keeps calling you “his girlfriend” and can’t understand why he can’t fuck his girlfriend.
CW/TW: unwanted touching :: DV :: asshole!Sukuna ✦ wc : 4k
Part 2: here Part 3: here
You’re lying on your side, staring holes into the ceiling, and you can feel the night’s silence pressing against your eardrums like a thick, sticky hum. The insomnia of the past few days wraps around your thoughts, and the exhaustion from university classes and night shifts at the café sits heavy on your shoulders.
Cool air drifts in through the cracked-open window, smelling like distant rain and asphalt, and against the deep navy sky, a few rare stars flicker. You’re pissed. At yourself. At this never-ending loop of thoughts. At the way your body refuses to let you fall asleep...
When a sharp, slicing doorbell suddenly cuts through the silence.
You flinch.
Your heart stops for a second, then starts hammering again in an uneven, anxious rhythm. You reach for your phone on the nightstand, and your chest tightens with a dull, familiar ache when your eyes catch the time: past two in the morning.
Then your gaze slides to the phone wallpaper, dark and blank.
It used to be a photo of you and Sukuna. You were laughing, and he was squinting slightly, looking somewhere past the camera with that eternal, almost arrogant calm on his face.
But you broke up. Two months ago...
The knocking comes again, harsh and insistent, and then someone kicks the door hard. A dull, terrifying thud that makes the walls shudder. If Sukuna were here… if you were still together… you wouldn’t be this scared. But he’s not. And you’re alone.
Anger, sharp and instant, cuts right through the exhaustion.
You get up. Bare feet slap against the cold floor. You walk to the door, press your temple against it, listening.
Another kick. And then you hear a man’s voice. Low, rough, drunk and messy, but so familiar it makes your skin crawl.
“Hey… open up… shit… did you fall asleep?”
And your name, yelled like he hates it and wants it at the same time. Something inside you goes ice-cold. Your first instinct is to scream through the door and tell Sukuna to go to hell.
Another kick. Then a muffled laugh.
“Open the fucking door…”
He’s drunk?
Your second thought is the neighbors. The old lady upstairs. Her calling the cops. You exhale hard, fingers tightening around the handle, and you yank the door open, ready to slam it shut again immediately.
Sukuna is standing there, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. He can barely stay upright, and his nearly two-meter height doesn’t look intimidating right now. It looks unstable. His peach-colored hair, usually spiked up in sharp strands, is a mess, sticking out everywhere, clumped and dirty like he’s dragged his hands through it a hundred times. He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt stretched over his chest, broad shoulders and torso, stained with dark, unclear spots. Dirt. Spilled beer. Maybe blood… if he smashed someone’s face in again.
You always hated his aggression.
Sukuna stares down at his scuffed boots for a couple seconds, then slowly, with effort, lifts his head when he realizes the door is open. His gaze is blurred, drowned in alcohol, drifting for a long moment before it finally focuses on you. And on his slightly parted lips, a wide, drunk, painfully familiar triumphant grin spreads.
Found you.
It scares you so badly your knees tremble.
Why is he here? To talk?
Sukuna never knew how to do that.
“Well, finally,” he rasps, and his breath, heavy and sweet-bitter with booze, makes you recoil.
You grimace, trying to shut the door, but he already collapses forward with all the weight of his heavy body and you, like an idiot, catch him. You’ve never seen him like this. This drunk. Alcohol rarely hit him like this. Sukuna always kept control, even when his eyes went glassy.
Now he’s disheveled, heavy, and stupid.
He stumbles into the hallway, and you instinctively brace your shoulder so he doesn’t crash onto the floor. You regret it immediately when your joints pop. His weight is muscular, solid, unexpectedly warm. And Sukuna instantly presses you against the wall, making you gasp from the force.
Something inside you turns cold from the sudden closeness, from the smell of sweat mixed with alcohol and that expensive cologne you once picked out and gave him for your anniversary. Something twists painfully inside your chest. And somewhere deep down, traitorous and quiet, something warm and familiar stirs…
“M… so tired,” he mumbles, burying his face into your neck. A hot, damp breath burns your skin. His lips drag along your jawline. “Came to my girl…”
You press your palms against his chest, trying to push him away, and your voice comes out strained.
“Sukuna, you… what are you doing here?”
You try to wriggle out from under him. Sukuna pulls back just slightly, staring down at you with a frown, because you always used to call him just “Kuna.” You cautiously lift your gaze to his face…
You don’t know what to expect from him. Not now. His height always overwhelmed you, but in a good way. You used to feel protected. Hidden. Safe.
Now it’s just a threatening physical difference. But Sukuna’s expression is pure, genuine confusion.
“I came home. Dumbass. To you.” He says it like it’s obvious, like there’s no argument to be had. His hand drops heavy on the back of your head, his thumb brushing along your jaw. That familiar possessive gesture.
You freeze. Did he… forget? Did his drunk haze erase the last two months? You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish you could forget too. You swallow the lump in your throat. Anger and something aching, pathetic, like the butterflies that used to flutter in your stomach when he looked at you…
Sukuna was always like this.
“Leave,” you say, firmer than you feel. “Right now.”
But Sukuna doesn’t seem to hear you. Or maybe he decides you’re just mad because he came home late. His gaze slides lower, catching on your shorts, and that lazy, pleased look spreads across his face.
“Dressed up for me, huh?” he rasps, voice thick with drunken purring.
“Asshole,” flashes through your mind.
But your hands move on their own. You shove him toward the hallway, toward your bedroom. Toward his bedroom. Toward your bedroom. One thought only: get your dead drunk ex onto the bed, call Toji, make him come pick up this wasted idiot.
And Sukuna follows obediently, clumsy, leaning on you with his arm thrown over your shoulder. His fingers dig into your muscles, and just the thought of him grabbing your chest like he used to makes your stomach twist.
The room smells like you. Books and dust. His scent faded from here two weeks after the breakup. And maybe that’s why Sukuna’s lips twitch in confusion as he looks around, trying to figure out what’s wrong, what’s changed. He doesn’t remember he hasn’t been here in two months.
You guide him to the edge of the bed, and he drops down heavily onto the mattress, making the springs squeal. He flops onto his side, and your eyes slide along the line of his back beneath his damp shirt, the familiar shape of his shoulders you used to kiss.
You hate yourself for it.
You climb onto the bed with one knee and reach for your phone lying in the middle of the blanket. But Sukuna moves faster. Long fingers, veins standing out, black tattoo markings wrapping his wrists. He snatches your phone first, his grip crushing the black case like it might crack. Sukuna manages to pull you in by the shoulders with his other arm, and you feel his body tense instantly, like he’s about to fight…
“What…” he mutters, jabbing at the screen. His brows knit. “Why… where am I?.. No… where are we?..”
You try to grab the phone back, but he shoves you forward with drunk, misjudged strength. Not cruel, more impatient and annoyed, but it’s too much for you. You lose your balance and fall onto the bed. The mattress catches you with a dull thump. Air punches out of your lungs.
You gasp, pushing your hair off your forehead, lying there, and in your chest something familiar sparks, bright and furious. A mix of rage and old attraction you thought you’d buried. You remind yourself fast who Sukuna Ryomen is and why you’re not together anymore.
He was always stronger. Always able to pin you down, ignore your protests. And before, in that haze of passion, you liked it. You liked feeling conquered when he pushed you into the pillows, covering you completely, driving his cock into your pussy, thrusting and growling into your ear until the world narrowed down to his breath and your own voice breaking into moans. Now that memory sends chills across your skin, from shame and something else.
Sukuna was always stronger.
The memory makes your skin prickle. You shake your head, forcing yourself back into reality, and search for him with your eyes. Sukuna stands frozen at the foot of the bed, your phone still in his hand. The screen lights his face from below, carving harsh, dangerous shadows under his cheekbones, in the corners of his mouth, along his neck.
“You… why’d you change the wallpaper?” His voice is low, annoyed, almost whiny. He keeps tapping the screen with his thumb, trying to unlock it. “What the hell… You changed the password? Our password… the day we…”
He cuts off, unable to remember the date. And you’re lying there, not knowing what to say. How do you explain that it’s over?
Sukuna was always such a bastard.
“Why?”
Sukuna lifts his gaze to you, confused. In his blurred pupils, disbelief flickers. He’s waiting for an explanation. And you’re lying there in shock, not knowing what to tell him.
Sukuna was always a bastard.
Mean, sharp, jealous to the point of obsession, and rough in a way he called “honesty.” He could pick a fight with your friend just because the guy hugged you when you met. “You’re my girlfriend,” he’d growl later, pulling you into him so hard it left bruises, and you, stupid, used to think that was love. He never told you he loved you. And at the same time, he let other girls hang off him in clubs, not encouraging it, but not pushing them away either.
Because he didn’t care.
He always said: they did it themselves.
They were the ones leaving hickeys and lipstick on his neck.
They were the ones crawling into his pants...
His indifference always hurt more than active flirting. And that, that blind, egocentric irresponsibility, is why you broke up. And you thought you’d almost erased that bitter aftertaste from your memory, that itch at the roof of your mouth. The intoxicating shadow of his superiority.
Before you can gather yourself and scream the truth at him, Sukuna suddenly, irritated, throws your phone into the corner. The sound of plastic smacking against the wall cracks through the silence, dry and painful.
You tense up in fear, staring at it.
Is he mad? Like, actually mad?
You look back and freeze, watching Sukuna yank his black t-shirt over his head with force, fabric tearing with an angry rustle. His movements are clumsy, drunk. In the dim light, the ink-black patterns of his tattoos stand out on his skin: rings around his shoulders, stripes low on his stomach, the intricate design on his ribs you once could’ve traced with your lips with your eyes closed.
Your chest tightens so hard you can’t breathe. Treacherous heat pools low in your stomach. Your body still hasn’t forgotten him.
But the sound of his jeans zipper sliding down snaps you back into reality.
“Stop! Sukuna, don’t!” it tears out of you, almost like a plea.
You jerk backward, trying to crawl toward the headboard, but the sheet tangles around your legs. Sukuna laughs, low and hoarse.
“C’mere, my girl.”
The sound is deep and vibrating, sending chills down your spine. His voice used to drive you insane. Now it just scares you.
A swarm of butterflies in your stomach, hateful and unwanted.
Sukuna climbs onto the bed on one knee, deciding not to pull his jeans off yet, moves closer, and grabs your ankle. Easily, like it takes no effort at all, he drags you back toward him, back to the center of the bed, to his legs. You slide across the blanket, letting out a helpless squeak.
He always did this.
Always.
“Let go!” you panic, shoving his chest with your palm. Your fingers press into the familiar hardness of his shoulder. “What the fuck?! Get off me! Don’t touch me! Get out, I’m serious!”
Sukuna frowns harder, annoyed. His brows are pulled together, jaw tense, the muscle in his cheek twitching. He doesn’t let go of your leg. His thumb starts rubbing the bone of your ankle. An unconscious, familiar soothing gesture he used to do when you were stressed before exams.
“What the fuck is your problem? What happened?!” he snaps.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” you almost scream. Tears sting your eyes.
“…I came to my girlfriend,” Sukuna says, baffled, and keeps mumbling incoherently. “Missed fucking. Missed you, huh? Why you… why are you yelling at me? What’s wrong?.. Don’t get it…”
Sukuna leans closer, and his shadow covers you completely, and you can barely breathe.
“I’M NOT your girlfriend!” you scream. “We broke up! Two months ago! What, did you get hit in the head and forget?! We’re not together anymore!”
Sukuna stares at you, and it’s like your words only reach him minutes later. He blinks slowly, processing. And he ignores the point, latching onto something else, something he thinks must be the reason for your “hysterics.”
“I… didn’t fuck anyone today,” he mumbles. His tone sounds hurt. Defensive. He shifts higher, his knee pressing into the mattress between your legs, and you inhale sharply, fingers clenching the sheets. “Didn’t cheat on you, baby. Didn’t even look at them. Why you jealous, idiot…”
“I’m not jealous! You don’t get it, dumbass! You’re drunk and stupid! Get off me!”
“No one…”
Sukuna ignores your protests, dropping his gaze to his hands braced on the mattress on either side of your waist. He looks like he’s talking to himself, trying to piece his thoughts together. His voice grows quieter, more lost, and suddenly there’s insecurity in it, something you’ve never heard from him before.
“Haven’t fucked anyone for… for two months… since my… girlfriend… left me?”
The last part sounds like an unsure question, like he’s not even certain he understood it right. Your breath catches. He said he… hasn’t fucked anyone for two months? For Sukuna, the eternal “womanizer” he used to call himself, two months of complete abstinence is basically eternity. And you don’t believe it.
The first couple weeks after the breakup, you had nightmares about him fucking other girls. And this quiet, drunk confession that slips out against his will knocks the ground out from under you.
Why would he?..
Sukuna frowns harder, bares his teeth slightly, and now his gaze, still blurry but sharper, locks onto you. There’s real, almost childish confusion in it, and a kind of vulnerability he’d never show sober. His body hovering over you suddenly feels less threatening and more… scared?
“We’re not… together anymore?” he mutters.
His hand finally lets go of your ankle, but now Sukuna touches your thigh carefully, like he doesn’t fully believe it yet and doesn’t know if you’re about to shove him away.
And you nod slowly, hoping it finally sinks in where he is and who he’s with.
“No, Sukuna. We’re not together. And that’s why we can’t have sex. Do you understand?”
But Sukuna unexpectedly moves even closer instead of backing off. His face is inches from yours. You see tiny golden flecks in his irises, red veins in the whites of his eyes, and your own reflection in his pupils.
His breath mixes with yours.
“Why?” he sounds offended. Almost hurt. His brows lift, lips pressing together slightly. “Why can’t we fuck? If I want you. If you’re… here. You’re my girlfriend.”
“Mine,” said with drunken but unshakable certainty. That’s his selfishness. His inability to let go. His hand on your thigh squeezes a little tighter. And you’re lying beneath him, just as lost and unsure of what happens next, because this drunk, confused bastard, your ex, is looking at you like you just took the most precious thing away from him.
And he doesn’t understand why.
His question, “why can’t we fuck?” is absurd.
If he wants it, then you can.
You always belonged to him.
You always loved his cock.
So why not now?
His breath, still reeking of whiskey and mixed beer, hits your face. You watch his dilated pupils narrow on your features, trying to read the answer in your clenched lips. His thumb starts moving slowly along your leg, tracing a line from your knee upward, toward your inner thigh. His touch is rough from his healed knuckles, but endlessly familiar.
Sukuna shifts closer with his whole body.
“Why?” he repeats. “You’re mine.”
“I’m not ‘yours,’” you whisper, losing your edge.
He’s too close, and he still refuses to accept that you’re not together, like he’s just putting that reality off for later. Like he always did.
“Sukuna, you’re drunk.”
“I wanna sleep…” he mutters. “Don’t wanna be alone.”
Sukuna leans even lower, his forehead almost touching yours. His eyes are hazy, but sparks dance in them. He takes an uncertain breath, presses into your neck, and you shiver with goosebumps.
“I wanna sleep on my pillow…”
Your heart is pounding.
He’s talking about your pillow. You still sleep on your side of the bed, and his side stays empty, but you never changed the pillows. It’s stupid, something you never let yourself think about…
“That’s not your pillow,” you try to sound harsh, but the words come out quiet.
“It’s so comfy,” he ignores you.
He always does.
His hand leaves your thigh and rises to your face. You freeze, expecting something rough, but his fingers barely brush your temple, sweeping a strand of hair away.
Surprisingly gentle.
“You’re so pretty, like…”
He furrows his brow, trying to find the words, and he looks so unlike his usual arrogant, rough self that a sharp wave of pity hits you again. He doesn’t find the right words. And it pisses him off. His brows knit, and that familiar aggression flashes in his eyes, then fades again into the alcohol haze.
“Can’t fuck,” he mumbles, repeating your words. “But… can I hug you?”
You open your mouth to say no, but you don’t get the chance. Sukuna doesn’t wait for an answer, or maybe he’s just too tired to wait, because he slowly collapses onto you with a low groan, dumping his full weight on you. His head drops heavy against your chest and higher, his nose pressing into the curve of your neck. Peach hair tickles your chin.
His arms wrap tight around your waist.
Sukuna presses into you. Big, hot… shaking?
“Kuna…” you try to protest, but he only hums, burying his face into your shirt.
“Quiet. Just… lay here. Like before. I… I feel so fucking bad without you,” his whisper is muffled.
His heart is beating somewhere under your chest, fast and uneven. You feel how tense the muscles in his back are beneath your hands, hands you don’t even realize you placed on his shoulders. You stroke him slowly, over the familiar curve of his shoulder blades, down his spine. And he lets out a quiet sound, half-growl, half-satisfied purr.
“Like that…” Sukuna mumbles. “Better. Don’t leave me.”
“I already did,” you want to say, but… you can’t.
The smell of his cologne and shampoo, alcohol and tobacco, the sound of his voice, the warmth of his body… it all forms a dangerous, deceptive picture of “like before.” You close your eyes, bright spots blooming behind your eyelids. Sukuna starts babbling, mumbling incoherently into you, pressed against you, his hips against yours, clinging to you from every side as he rubs his head against your chest.
“…those dumb bitches keep crawling all over me… like flies… sick of it… told them to fuck off… I have…” he suddenly goes quiet. His fingers spasm around the fabric of your shirt at your waist, under your ribs, tugging. “But you’re not here. I called, but you… phone… won’t pick up. You changed your number, yeah? And your phone password…”
He shifts again, restless.
“Why’d you leave? I… I didn’t do anything. I didn’t have sex with anyone after you. I swear. I need… only you, baby…”
You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling. His words, those drunk, broken confessions… Sukuna doesn’t understand the point. To him, “didn’t do anything” means he didn’t flirt, didn’t kiss, didn’t sleep with anyone else. But his indifference, his disregard for your feelings, his blindness, don’t count to him. That’s not “something.” That just doesn’t exist in his world.
“You didn’t look. You didn’t see me,” you sound exhausted.
Sukuna lifts his head slightly, looking up at you. His eyes seem wide now with confusion. Reflections shimmer in them. And you.
“I saw you. You’re the prettiest… the prettiest. Everyone knows…”
It’s not it. Not even close. But in his drunk, sincere admiration, there’s a drop of the warmth you always starved for.
“Just sleep.”
“Why did you leave me, baby?” he asks vulnerably, tearing you apart.
You don’t answer. You just keep stroking his back slowly, over the familiar tattoos, feeling the tension under your fingers gradually start to melt away.
His breathing deepens, evens out. Your eyelids grow heavy. You bury your fingers into his peach hair, and tears gather in your eyes. You stare into the dark, feeling his body slowly go slack as he drifts into sleep.
Sukuna is here. Drunk, lost, not remembering, not accepting that you broke up. He’s sleeping on top of you and for some reason, you can’t push him off. Not now. Not when he’s… like this. Drunk, needy like you used to be, clinging to you like you’re something he still, in his drunken head, thinks belongs to him.
You close your eyes and realize your insomnia is finally starting to fade…
Part 2: here Part 3: here
Do not repost, copy, plagiarize, translate, or feed my work into AI in any form!) English is not my first language, so yes, my writing might not be perfect :( This is my first JJK work here, so please....
𝜗𝜚 your (hot) psychology professor, Geto, Pavlovs you into orgasming in class
more like this
ೃ࿔*:･
“M’gonna cum-“ you wail, nails clinging to your professor’s back as he fucks into you, cock stretching you out perfectly just as it always does.
And, just as he always does- he denies you.
“Oh no, gorgeous,” Suguru Geto purrs into your ear, “I believe you haven’t been given permission. Have you?”
You moan, hips bucking futilely. This happens every time- you’re right there, right on the precipice of an Earth-shattering orgasm, and he makes you wait. Makes you count.
“Five.”
“I can’t hold it-“
“You will. Four.”
You soak his base, strings of glossy slick snapping midair.
“Three, two… and one.”
“Oh, fuck!” You cry, tears streaming into your hair as your body caves in, cunt spasming around him as you ruin the ironed, white sheets of his bed.
That was last week, but now you’re staring at him again. Not from below, no, or even from above, grinding your hips down- but from the distance of a lecture theatre as Geto speaks on and on about psychological advances and studies.
“So, to preface the idea of the multi-store memory model, we must return back to Bartlett’s idea of rationalisation. Page 32-“
Geto blinks, textbook in hand and glasses perched on his nose. Then, he smiles. “Ah, well, I suppose this is your final class of the semester.”
There’s a flurry of confused nods and exhausted smiles, students slumped in corners with battered headphones lying on crowded desks.
“I should give you a rest… how’s this, hm? I think I’d be cruel if I didn’t let you all leave a tad early… how’s ten seconds?”
A flutter of agreement, disbelief shadowing faces already heavy with eyebags from relentless studying. Yours included- you’re confused; Geto has never ended class early, not once, no matter how many times you may bite your lip at him or suggest it with a cheek resting on his bare thigh.
“I'll count, then.” He directs casually, perching on the corner of his desk. “Let me begin! Ten…”
You freeze. Oh my god. Not now, please, please not here-
“Nine.”
Your panties flood automatically, thighs clenching unwillingly below the desk as classmates start packing textbooks into their backpacks, unaware of the slight issue you’re having.
“Eight.”
His tone is steady, grounding in the usual way he lectures on the brain and ethical debates and Milgram’s Agency Theory- and the way he breathes into your ear in the dark, fingers sliding between your thighs coolly. The thought makes you squeak behind your palm.
“Seven.”
You jolt forwards accidentally, and the girl next to you shoots you a quizzical look.
“You okay? I’m just glad he’s letting us go early, I’m like, totallyyyy behind on all this.” She says, plugging her headphones into her ear.
“Mhm, y-yep, me too.”
“Six.”
You snap back to the front of the theatre immediately, Geto looking anywhere but your flushing face. There’s a twinkle in his eye that suggests he knows exactly what he’s doing, yet he’s refusing to acknowledge it.
“Five.”
He’s refusing to acknowledge the psychological toll he’s taken on you, wiring your brain to associate countdowns with orgasms. You almost laugh in delirium- your psychology professor has permanently changed your brain chemistry: with his dick. How funny.
“Four.”
You’re struggling to relocate the humour in it, however, when you feel a bead of slick pool in your underwear. Your clit catches on the seam of fabric below your jeans just right, and you almost gasp- it’s quickly stifled behind a hand, nails clawing at your thigh.
“Three.”
You’re going to cum. You are going to actually orgasm in the middle of a lecture theatre, surrounded by peers and students who have no clue about the reason for your sudden violent twitching.
“Two.”
He looks at you then, violet piercing into your heart-shaped pupils as you tremble in your seat, pussy clenching around nothing but the soppingly wet fabric of your ruined panties. Your nails dig into the denim of your jeans, indenting the skin below with the force of it all, and Geto just smiles. Because he knows.
“One.”
Your vision almost whites out. Thighs smack together under the desk, unable to unglue themselves as your classmates slowly trickle towards the exit. Some thank Geto, some just rush out without glancing twice at him, hellbent on sleeping as early as possible.
Until it’s just you and him, the last student finally meandering out of the door. Beneath your sweater, your chest heaves in an attempt to catch any breath you can.
“Do you need to ask any follow up questions, my favourite student?” Geto’s voice drips with humour, his mouth quirking into an unabashed grin. “Perhaps about… Pavlov?”
“No-“ you gasp, voice a little wobbly as you come down from the aftershocks. “Jesus, I can’t believe you.” You’re embarrassed, cheeks pink and panties ruined, still slumped breathlessly in the chair.
Geto just tilts his head, waves of inky black careening over his shoulder as he begins to walk towards you. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, and you flinch like you’ve been electrocuted.
“Good.”
ೃ࿔*:･
masterlist
a/n: I HATE my psychology course atm i just don’t care about PET scans and oxyhaemaglobin
tags (open):
@yvannaille @f33bs @loverofladybugs @p3stop3sta @arabellasolstice @dreamcastgirl99 @starsandni7 @sharkiethrts @what-the-jams @likstars @elenathriel @gyusheadphones @savagecatsuga @sxpernova @wqsrs @kakuthefish
Stealing clothes from bf!sukuna drabble
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ 18+
His shirts had randomly started going missing a month into you two dating. Whether it was tshirts or long sleeves it disappeared from his apartment after you would come over.
Of course it wasnt very hard to figure out that you had been taking them, Sukuna knew he just didnt particularly care. What he didnt account for was how good you would look wearing nothing put your panties and his oversized shirt, the neckline so big is slipped down the side of one of your shoulders.
You had invited him over for a movie date night and when he pushed open your apartment door and found you in the kitchen, hunched over and making popcorn for the two of you he was already gone. You looked so good, so pretty as he approached you, grabbing your waist and pulling you back against him so he could nuzzle his nose into your neck, breathing you in before peppering kisses along the column of your throat.
“Who knew a thief could look so fuckin’ good?” He asked with his mouth pressed against your neck and you laughed, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Catwoman always looked good, pretty sure thats why Batman was down bad” his head bumps yours gently as you respond, his hands slipping under the hem of your stolen shirt to drag up, feeling your soft skin and curves under his fingers.
He presses you further into the kitchen counter, hiking the fabric of the shirt over your ass so he could grind into it, a grunt slipping from his lips as his fingers find the plush skin of one of your thighs and pushed it up to rest on the counter. His fingers toyed with your panties, pulling them back and letting go to hit against you.
You gasp out, glaring back at him, “Ryo” you whine and his pulls them to the side, pulling his hard cock out of his sweats to rub against your folds. “Yeah, yeah i know, woman. Just lean forwards a bit”
You comply, arching forwards. He hums at your obedience, praises slipping from his lips as he nudged into you, sinking in slowly to tease you. “Theres my good girl” he purrs, hips pulling back slowly to the tip before slamming back in deeply “feels so fucking good around me”
You moan out, head dropping to rest against the cupboard as he thrusts into you, heat spreading over your skin and through your nerves. He leans closer, kissing at your exposed shoulder and neck, biting and kissing at the skin. He angles his hips to hit deeper, his mouth falling open as warm breath fans over your skin.
“Feels so good Ryo” you moan out, hand reaching back for him. “But need more” he grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss before tugging you back against him. His other hand grabs at your thighs, fingers digging in as he thrust harder, faster, cock bumping your cervix everytime he thrusted in with wet squelches.
His fingers trail down to rub at your clit, leaning in to bite your neck hard as he lets out grunts against your skin. “Come on baby, be a good girl and cum for me. Know you fuckin’ wanna so bad” he teases and you feel your insides tighten, squeezing him so good as you cum around him. Your brain goes fuzzy as you drop forwards against the cool counter, slick trailing down your thighs are Sukuna thrusts into you harder chasing his own high in your sensitive, overstimulated pussy. You whine out loudly, nails reaching back to scratch at his muscular arms before he thrusts into you fully and cums, warm seed flooding your insides with a groan. Sukuna leans forwards against you, hands grabbing at your thighs and ass as he kneads the skin, kissing along your skin.
“Should steal my shit more often” he lets out a gruff laugh, biting at your skin before picking you up and bringing you to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
Stealing clothes from bf!sukuna drabble
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ 18+
His shirts had randomly started going missing a month into you two dating. Whether it was tshirts or long sleeves it disappeared from his apartment after you would come over.
Of course it wasnt very hard to figure out that you had been taking them, Sukuna knew he just didnt particularly care. What he didnt account for was how good you would look wearing nothing put your panties and his oversized shirt, the neckline so big is slipped down the side of one of your shoulders.
You had invited him over for a movie date night and when he pushed open your apartment door and found you in the kitchen, hunched over and making popcorn for the two of you he was already gone. You looked so good, so pretty as he approached you, grabbing your waist and pulling you back against him so he could nuzzle his nose into your neck, breathing you in before peppering kisses along the column of your throat.
“Who knew a thief could look so fuckin’ good?” He asked with his mouth pressed against your neck and you laughed, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Catwoman always looked good, pretty sure thats why Batman was down bad” his head bumps yours gently as you respond, his hands slipping under the hem of your stolen shirt to drag up, feeling your soft skin and curves under his fingers.
He presses you further into the kitchen counter, hiking the fabric of the shirt over your ass so he could grind into it, a grunt slipping from his lips as his fingers find the plush skin of one of your thighs and pushed it up to rest on the counter. His fingers toyed with your panties, pulling them back and letting go to hit against you.
You gasp out, glaring back at him, “Ryo” you whine and his pulls them to the side, pulling his hard cock out of his sweats to rub against your folds. “Yeah, yeah i know, woman. Just lean forwards a bit”
You comply, arching forwards. He hums at your obedience, praises slipping from his lips as he nudged into you, sinking in slowly to tease you. “Theres my good girl” he purrs, hips pulling back slowly to the tip before slamming back in deeply “feels so fucking good around me”
You moan out, head dropping to rest against the cupboard as he thrusts into you, heat spreading over your skin and through your nerves. He leans closer, kissing at your exposed shoulder and neck, biting and kissing at the skin. He angles his hips to hit deeper, his mouth falling open as warm breath fans over your skin.
“Feels so good Ryo” you moan out, hand reaching back for him. “But need more” he grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss before tugging you back against him. His other hand grabs at your thighs, fingers digging in as he thrust harder, faster, cock bumping your cervix everytime he thrusted in with wet squelches.
His fingers trail down to rub at your clit, leaning in to bite your neck hard as he lets out grunts against your skin. “Come on baby, be a good girl and cum for me. Know you fuckin’ wanna so bad” he teases and you feel your insides tighten, squeezing him so good as you cum around him. Your brain goes fuzzy as you drop forwards against the cool counter, slick trailing down your thighs are Sukuna thrusts into you harder chasing his own high in your sensitive, overstimulated pussy. You whine out loudly, nails reaching back to scratch at his muscular arms before he thrusts into you fully and cums, warm seed flooding your insides with a groan. Sukuna leans forwards against you, hands grabbing at your thighs and ass as he kneads the skin, kissing along your skin.
“Should steal my shit more often” he lets out a gruff laugh, biting at your skin before picking you up and bringing you to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
