you step into your apartment, keys dropped somewhere, shoes half-kicked off, your bag slumped against the tile.
“you’re late.”
his voice comes from the living room, low and steady. you peek around the corner and there he is, tie loosened, sleeves rolled. higuruma doesn’t look up right away, pen still moving.
“double shift,” you mumble, voice scratchy. “someone called in sick. then someone else. then a code blue—”
he looks up and clicks his pen shut, soft smile on his face. “come here, love.”
you shuffle over, limbs heavy. he stands before you reach him and his hand comes up, thumb brushing under your eye.
“you didn’t eat,” he says.
“i did,” you lie weakly.
his brow twitches. he doesn’t argue. instead, he exhales, slowly, and sits back down.
“sit.”
you expect the couch. instead, he guides you down onto his lap, firm hands at your waist before you can protest. you let out a soft noise, half-surprised, half-relieved, melting against him without meaning to.
“you’re burning out,” he murmurs against your temple.
“mm. can’t. patients—”
“i know.” his voice softens, almost unbearably so. “i know.”
his hand slides up your back, slow and grounding.
you sigh, head dropping into his shoulder. his fingers trace absent patterns along your spine, then lower, then back up again, deliberate, thoughtful.
“you take care of everyone,” he says, voice dipping. “but you come home like this.” his grip tightens just a little at your waist. “that’s unacceptable.”
you huff a tired laugh. “sort of my job.”
his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, palm warm against your skin. you inhale sharply, more awake now, nerves flickering back to life under his touch.
“hiromi…”
“you need to be reminded,” he continues, voice calm but laced with something heavier now, “that you’re allowed to feel good too.”
his lips brush your ear and you curl your fingers onto his shirt. “will you let me take care of you, love?” he murmurs into your neck, kissing the crook of it softly.
you nod into his chest and he hums, slowly turning you so your back is to the couch, and he sinks to his knees between your legs, large palms spreading your thighs as he gazes up at you with a softness that makes you ache.
“will you let me?” he repeats, quieter, tugging down your scrubs and kissing the soft skin of your thighs.
“y—yeah,” you breathe out, sighing, tugging at his hair.
hiromi always has you cumming in minutes.
it never takes long with him and his gentle, reverent kisses. the way he knows each spot that makes you squirm. how his tongue laps at your cunt so carefully, licking and pushing into you with practiced ease.
these kinds of nights end the same way too. after you fall apart on his tongue, moaning his name between gasps, he carries you to bed, eats you out again, then fucks you slowly and deeply and softly.
until your mind goes quiet and your body finally, finally rests. his touch stays unhurried, like there’s nowhere else he needs to be. and when he presses his forehead to yours, it feels less like an ending and more like something he plans to keep proving to you, over and over again.
ꮼ sweetheart fratboy!sukuna & you make each other feel special after the first time
ᦸ making love is sweet, but aftercare is sweeter.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : art is by hunnismokah. ⸝⸝ valentine event. ⸝⸝ not proofread.
"Wow." That was the first word from your boyfriend's lips after collapsing onto your chest.
Nothing big or extravagant, just a sweet reverent "wow" that he'd purred into your throat.
He'd been very aware that you'd been a virgin—patiently waiting till you were completely ready, & he made sure to treat you like a princess the entire night.
Thoroughly fucked-out and tired, and he still looked heavenly as he pressed soft kisses up your jaw, pulling back just enough to cradle your face with rough fingertips.
"You okay?" He whispered, taking in the sight of your mussed-up hair as smeared makeup with a breathy groan, "Didn't go too rough on ya?"
"M' fine." You assured, fingers ghosting over the various scratches you'd left on Ryomen's back. "I think I did just a little more damage than you did."
He ducked down, pressing two gentle kisses to your lips. "You need anything? Water? Snack? Sleep? Anything—I'll get it."
"Ryo—" you groaned, lips chasing after his for a proper kiss. "—I'm fine. Calm down; there's no need for you to be more nervous than me, idiot." You teased, tugging him down on top of you.
"I just want to make sure tonight's memorable for you and perfect." He huffed, shoving his face into the crook of your neck, beefy arms quickly finding purchase around your waist.
There was no secret how careful he'd been in your entire relationship; stereotypes of frat boys always being total dicks, or playboys—he constantly made sure you knew he wasn't like that.
Ryomen always wanted to make it obvious just how much he loved you—in his own peculiar ways, of course, that you'd grown fond of.
Even when he was a bumbling, worried idiot instead of the smooth romantic he normally was.
You dug your nose into the pink tuffs of hair with a sigh. "Ryo, baby. I was with you." Your fingers rubbed soothingly over his back, a deeper flush dusting your cheeks as he kissed your shoulder. "You already made it perfect."
"Yeah? So I didn't ruin your first time?" He sighed, grip tightening & pressing quick kisses down your shoulder. "I was so worried I had."
"Baby... you've got to be kidding me," you groaned, tangling your hand into his hair to peel him off. "I'm still seeing stars, you idiot—it was amazing. You made me feel amazing. I was worried it wasn't good for you."
One quick kiss to his lips, a second.
"You did so good for me, you know." He whispered, tapping his forehead against yours. "Only an idiot would think that was less than perfect."
"Oh, you're just saying that." You groaned, eyes rolling just a little as Ryomen's thumb rubbed teasingly slow over your hipbone. "You just want to make me feel better."
"No. Not at all," Suluna rasped, dragging a hand up your side. "That was heavenly for me. I have never felt like that before." He pressed his lips to yours again for another chaste kiss. "You're perfect."
You simply hummed, eyes flickering over his face quickly, settling on his lips. "Yeah? You promise?"
"Yes. I promise, pretty girl. This has been the best night of my life."
bully! shoko nudging the tip of her strap deep into her quiet little dormmate's hole, fucking your ass and burying herself deep into your ass to claim the anal virginity she feels entitled to. one hand on your hip and the other pronouncing the arch in your back as she pounds into you and watches your ass jiggle with each thrust. she snakes an arm between your thighs, harshly circling your clit and cutting off your tearful whines with a harsh 'shut up', telling you to take it until she rips a mind-numbing orgasm out of you.
︵ ೀ mdni. barista!suguru who writes.. special instructions on your coffee cup every morning
the first time you noticed geto suguru behind the counter, it was innocent enough.
late afternoon light slanted through the big front windows of the little indie shop tucked between a bookstore and a vinyl record place. the air smelled like fresh grounds and cedar. he wore a black apron tied loose around narrow hips, sleeves rolled to the elbows, long dark hair pulled into a messy half-bun that somehow looked deliberate. when you ordered your usual oat flat white, he didn’t smile the customer-service smile. he just looked at you—hazel eyes steady, almost amused, like he already knew you’d be back tomorrow.
“extra hot?” he asked, voice low and smooth, the kind that settled warm in your stomach.
“always,” you said.
he nodded once. wrote your name on the cup in sharp, slanted handwriting. when he handed it over, his fingers brushed yours for half a second longer than necessary. you told yourself it was nothing.
but you came back the next day. and the day after.
it started small.
a doodled cat on your cup sleeve one morning. then a tiny middle finger the next time you complained about the line being slow (he’d smirked when you laughed). then words: “you look tired. rough night?” scrawled under your name. you wrote back on a napkin—“you offering to make it better?”—and left it under your empty mug. he found it after closing, apparently, because the next day your cup said “maybe. close at 8. don’t be late.”
you showed up at 7:55 wearing the shortest skirt you owned and a cropped sweater that left a thin strip of stomach bare. the shop was quiet, last customers trickling out. he flipped the open sign to closed, locked the door, drew the blinds with one slow tug of the cord. slats of the blinds rattled softly as they dropped, cutting the late-afternoon glow into thin golden stripes across the wooden floor. the shop went quiet except for the low hiss of the espresso machine cooling down and the faint tick of the wall clock.
geto turned the key in the lock with a decisive click. then he faced you.
no apron now. just the black t-shirt stretched across his shoulders, jeans slung low enough that you could see the sharp cut of his hipbones when he moved. he walked toward you slow, deliberate, like he was giving you time to change your mind.
you didn’t.
he stopped close enough that you could smell coffee and clean skin and something faintly smoky, like incense he burned at home. his eyes flicked down to your mouth, then lower—to the way your cropped sweater rode up just enough to show skin, to the hem of your skirt that barely skimmed mid-thigh.
“you came back,” he said. voice quieter now, rougher at the edges.
“you told me not to be late.”
a small, crooked smile. “i did.”
his hand lifted. fingertips grazed the bare strip of your waist, light at first, testing. when you didn’t flinch—when you actually leaned into it—his palm flattened, warm and sure, sliding up under the hem of your sweater until his thumb brushed the underside of your breast. no bra. just soft skin and the quick rise of your breathing.
“fuck,” he breathed, almost to himself. “no underwear either?”
“panties,” you corrected, voice catching when his thumb circled higher, grazing your nipple. “just… not much of them.”
his other hand found the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your head so he could look at you properly. hazel eyes dark now, pupils blown.
“show me.”
it wasn’t a question.
you reached down, caught the hem of your skirt, and dragged it up slow. the black lace came into view—thin straps, barely-there triangle in front, already damp at the center. his gaze dropped like a physical touch. he exhaled hard through his nose.
“turn around.”
you did. palms flat on the counter. he stepped in behind you, chest to your back, heat rolling off him. one arm banded around your waist, pulling you flush against the hard line of his cock through his jeans. the other hand slid down, cupping you over the lace, middle finger pressing right against your clit through the fabric.
you gasped. he groaned low against your ear.
“already soaked. been thinking about this all shift?”
“yes.”
“me too.” he rocked against you once, slow grind, letting you feel every thick inch. “kept getting hard every time you walked in. had to go in the back and breathe for a minute.”
his fingers slipped under the edge of the lace, found slick skin, parted you gently. one long finger circled your entrance, teasing, then pushed in knuckle-deep. you moaned, loud in the empty shop. he added a second, curled them, pressed against that spot that made your knees buckle.
“that’s it,” he murmured. “let me hear you. no one else gets to now.”
he worked you open slow, filthy wet sounds filling the quiet. thumb on your clit, steady circles, fingers stroking inside until your thighs shook. when you started to clench around him he pulled out—abrupt—leaving you empty and whining.
“not yet.”
he spun you around, lifted you onto the counter in one smooth motion. your ass hit the cool wood, skirt rucked up around your hips. he stepped between your thighs, shoved them wider with his hips. hands on your waist, he tugged the cropped sweater up and over your head. tossed it somewhere behind him.
bare now except for the scrap of lace and the skirt bunched at your waist. he looked at you like he was starving.
then he dropped to his knees.
right there on the floor behind the counter. broad shoulders forcing your legs apart. he hooked the lace aside with two fingers, bared you completely, and licked a slow, flat stripe from your entrance to your clit.
your head fell back. “fuck—suguru—”
he growled against you at the sound of his name. sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking fast, then slow, then fast again. two fingers slid back inside, pumping in time with his mouth. you grabbed his hair, the messy bun coming loose, black strands spilling over your thighs.
he ate you like he’d been fantasizing about it for weeks. messy. hungry. nose pressed to your mound, lips sealed around you, humming low so the vibration shot straight through your core. when your hips started bucking he pinned them down with one forearm across your pelvis, held you still so he could devour.
you came hard. thighs clamping around his head, back arching off the counter, a broken cry tearing out of your throat. he didn’t stop—kept licking through it, slower now, until you were trembling and oversensitive and pushing weakly at his shoulders.
he stood. wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glassy and dark. jeans unbuttoned, cock already out—thick, flushed, leaking at the tip. he fisted himself once, twice, staring at the mess he’d made between your legs.
“condom?” you managed.
“wallet. back pocket.”
you reached around him, fished it out, tore the packet with your teeth. rolled it on him with shaking fingers. he hissed when your hand closed around him—hot, velvet-hard, twitching in your grip.
“now,” he said. voice wrecked. “need to be inside you.”
he lined up, nudged the head against your entrance, pushed in slow.
you both groaned.
he was thick—stretching you open inch by inch until he bottomed out, hips flush to yours. he stayed there a second, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard.
“so fucking tight,” he muttered. “knew you’d feel like this.”
then he started moving. slow at first. deep, rolling thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. hands on your ass, pulling you into each stroke. the counter creaked under you. your nails dug into his shoulders through his shirt.
faster. harder.
skin slapping skin. wet, obscene sounds. his mouth on your throat, sucking marks you’d have to cover tomorrow. one hand slid up to palm your breast, thumb rolling your nipple, pinching just enough to make you clench around him.
“fuck—do that again,” he growled.
you did. clenched hard. he swore, hips snapping forward, pace turning brutal.
“gonna come,” you gasped. “suguru—i’m—”
“come for me.” he reached between you, thumb finding your clit, rubbing fast messy circles. “come on my cock. let me feel it.”
you shattered again. harder this time. walls fluttering, pulsing, milking him. he fucked you through it—short, sharp thrusts—until his rhythm broke. he buried himself deep, groaned long and low against your neck, hips jerking as he came. you felt the pulse of him inside the condom, the way his whole body tensed then shuddered.
for a long minute neither of you moved. just panting, sweat-slick, tangled together on the counter that still smelled faintly of coffee grounds.
he pulled out slow. tied off the condom, tossed it in the trash under the register like it was nothing. then he was back between your thighs, softer now, kissing you slow and lazy. tongue sliding against yours, tasting yourself on him.
when he finally pulled back he rested his forehead against yours again.
“you’re coming back tomorrow,” he said. not a question.
you smiled, still breathless. “only if you write something dirtier on my cup.”
he laughed—low, rough, real. kissed the corner of your mouth.
“deal.”
he helped you down. fixed your skirt. found your sweater. walked you to the door, unlocked it, held it open. outside the street was dark, lamps just flickering on. he leaned in one last time. murmured against your ear: “wear even less next time.”
then he shut the door behind you, flipped the lock, and disappeared into the dim shop—leaving you standing on the sidewalk, thighs still trembling, tasting coffee and him on your tongue, already counting the hours until morning.
the next morning you walk in at 7:42, hair still damp from the shower, wearing the same skirt but a different top—something soft and low-cut that clings when you move. the bell above the door chimes. geto is already behind the counter, sleeves rolled, hair tied back again. he doesn’t look up right away. just keeps pulling shots, steam wand hissing.
when it’s your turn he finally meets your eyes. slow smile. the kind that says he remembers exactly how you tasted last night.
“usual?” he asks.
“extra hot,” you reply, voice steady even though your pulse isn’t.
he nods. writes on the cup. slides it across the counter without a word.
you take it. flip the sleeve.
in his sharp handwriting:
“wear red ones today. i want to know they’re soaked by noon.”
your thighs clench on instinct. you glance up—he’s already serving the next person, expression neutral, like he didn’t just tell you to ruin your panties thinking about him.
you leave without answering. but you do change into red lace set before work.
the day after that:
“no bra. let me see how hard your nipples get when you read this.”
you obey. the sweater you pick is thin cashmere. every time the ac kicks on, the fabric drags across your chest and you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning in the middle of a meeting.
by the third morning he’s escalated.
“touch yourself in the bathroom before you leave the office. send proof. one finger. don’t come.”
you do it in the single-stall restroom on the fourth floor, back against the door, skirt hiked, middle finger circling slow while you stare at your phone screen—his message staring back. you snap the photo: just your hand between your thighs, lace pushed aside, glistening. send it. heart hammering.
his reply comes thirty seconds later. one word.
“good girl.”
that afternoon you show up at closing again. this time he doesn’t bother with small talk. door locked. blinds down. he’s on you before the deadbolt clicks—mouth crashing into yours, hands shoving your skirt up, finding the red lace already dark and clinging.
“fuck, you listened,” he mutters against your lips. fingers slip inside the fabric, two plunging deep without warning. you gasp into his kiss. “been wet for me all day?”
“since morning,” you admit.
he groans. spins you around. bends you over the same counter. yanks the lace down your thighs just enough to bare you. you hear his zipper, the crinkle of foil. then he’s there—thick head nudging, pushing in slow, stretching you open until your palms slap the wood and your back arches.
“hold still,” he says. voice gravel. one hand fists your hair, the other grips your hip. he bottoms out in one smooth thrust. you both curse at the same time.
he doesn’t give you time to adjust. starts fucking you hard—deep, punishing strokes that make the counter rattle, cups and spoons clinking in their trays. every time he bottoms out you feel the blunt head kiss that spot inside that makes your vision blur.
“you like this?” he growls. “getting railed where anyone could walk by if i forgot to lock up?”
“yes—fuck—suguru—”
“come for me. right here. let the whole street hear how much you need it.”
you do. shattering around him, walls pulsing, thighs shaking so hard he has to hold you up. he fucks you through it—relentless—until his rhythm stutters and he buries himself deep, coming with a low, broken groan against the back of your neck.
he stays inside you for a minute after. breathing hard. kissing the sweat-damp skin behind your ear.
then he pulls out slow. cleans you up with a stack of napkins like it’s the most normal thing in the world. helps you fix your skirt. kisses you soft this time—lazy, lingering.
“tomorrow,” he says. “i’m writing something worse.”
the pattern sets.
every morning a new message. filthier each time.
“finger yourself under your desk during your 10 a.m. call. think of my tongue.”
“no panties today. spread your legs when you sit at the counter. let me see.”
“come in at lunch. i’ll eat you out in the storage room.”
you obey them all.
some days you fuck right after your shift coffee—him bending you over the back counter, skirt shoved up, one of your legs hooked over his shoulder while the espresso machine gurgles like background music.
other days he drags you into the tiny storage room between sacks of beans and stacks of cups. door barely shut. he drops to his knees again, hikes one of your thighs over his shoulder, and licks you until you’re gripping shelves, biting your own arm to stay quiet while boxes of syrup rattle above your head.
once he makes you ride him in the office chair behind the register. blinds cracked just enough for slivers of streetlight to stripe across your bare tits as you bounce. he watches like he’s memorizing every roll of your hips, every hitch in your breath. when you clench around him he flips you onto the desk, papers scattering, and fucks up into you until you both come so hard the chair wheels squeak across the floor.
the messages keep coming.
“tonight. my place. no underwear. i want to fuck you against every window.”
“call in sick tomorrow. i’m closing early. going to take my time.”
“you’re mine now. say it when you walk in.”
you do.
every single morning.
and every night he proves it again—slow, filthy, relentless—until the only thing written on your skin is his name in bruises and bite marks, and the only instructions you follow are the ones he growls against your throat while he’s buried inside you.
18+, choso x fem reader, smut, marathon sex, cumming dry, cowgirl, college au
choso hasn’t come out of his dorm singlet since finals week started.
and it’s not because of the flu, or exam anxiety. it’s definitely not because he’s been studying.
sex. a lot of it. and not the blushy, fumbling type of sex you'd expect from a guy as quiet as him. the kind of sex that's loud enough to warrant furious knocking on the walls that bar either side of his room from his neighbors that are clearly trying to get a good nights sleep.
fuck, smoke, then fuck again. that’s all the two of you have done since monday morning when you dropped by for a quick round or two of pick-me-up sex to get you through your exams.
and it’s not like a fuck-marathon was his intended plan for finals week. he should be studying, nose in a book at his desk and not, y’know, seven inches deep with his hands clutching the pillows.
“fuck, I think I'm shooting blanks” he whines, face scrunched up with a mix of pleasure and pain. choso's head lolls against the pillows as you ride him with both hands on his heaving chest, bottom lip pinched between his teeth.
“that’s okay.” you breathe, “wanna keep going?” the incessant press of your ass against his hips slows to a tiny roll as you await an answer.
he nods, wordlessly. then clears his throat, screwing his eyes shut as a full body shiver wracks him from head to toe.
"yes--oh fuck." he groans, words coming out garbled. choso's hips jutting up and into you like his body isn't his own. you can feel the way his cock twitches inside of you. how his balls pulse like they always do do when he's about to cum.
except, that telltale feeling of warmth flooding your lower half doesn't come. instead, two strong hands curl unravel from the pillows and curl around your thighs, holding you steady and pliant.
"don't. don't move." he grits, eyes still screwed shut. you swear you hear him stifle a whimper between each word.
"did you just cum dry?" you ask him.
"maybe? I don't know. " he huffs. like the question itself is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. like nothing else matters besides the fact that he's still hard and throbbing inside of you. "think I'm still--" he cuts himself off with a hearty groan, eyes shooting open as another wave of pleasure takes over.
he interlaces your fingers with a shaky hand, cock still twitching up agains that spot that drives you crazy. you watch in pure awe, rolling your hips just the slightest bit to test the waters, and the noise choso makes is so broken you're positive the neighbors have heard you now.
"keep going." he urges. "I know you know how to, c'mon." choso plants his feet against the mattress, using the newfound leverage to pound into you from below. you feel pleasure surge deep inside your belly, sending shockwaves all the way up to your hairline.
"are you sure?" you whimper, nearing on the edge of your, what, fifth? sixth orgasm of the night? his hands are cupping the curve of your ass now, guiding you up and down on his cock with concerning ease.
"until I pass out." he nods, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.
you’re already giggling like a menace before he’s even fully inside you.
toji’s got you laid out across the mattress, his huge frame looming over yours, one hand planted beside your head and the other gripping his cock at the base, lazily tapping it against your folds before guiding it in. he’s taking his time with it, which should be sweet— should be romantic— should be kind.
but he’s been teasing you for forty-five minutes. tongue deep in your pussy, fingers pumping slow and mean, mouthing at your tits like he’s got all night, and now he’s dragging this out too??
“you’re so annoying,” you huff dramatically, even though your thighs are trembling and your back’s already arching off the sheets in anticipation.
“hm?” toji murmurs, his voice low and teasing, eyes flicking up at you with that lazy little smirk. “thought you liked my mouth, baby.”
“i do,” you snap, pouty. “that’s not the problem. you’re the problem. you’re being evil on purpose.”
he chuckles, slow and amused, as he finally starts to push the thick, girthy head of his cock into your soaking cunt. you gasp instinctively, but then—
then you remember your plan.
you blink at him, totally deadpan, and say:
“did you put it in?”
toji goes still. literally freezes in place, halfway in. stares at you.
“…what?” he says blankly, like he didn’t hear you right. like maybe he’s about to give you the benefit of the doubt.
you smile sweetly. too sweetly.
“i said,” you repeat slowly, innocently, “did you put it in yet?”
silence.
his jaw flexes.
“…you tryna be funny?”
you shrug, keeping your best straight face even though you can feel your lower half already clenching around the bare minimum he’s given you.
“i mean, i just- i don’t feel anything. maybe you’re not as big as you keep saying you are,” you add with a lilting, bratty smile, knowing damn well the second you open your mouth again, you’re dead.
his brow twitches.
“‘s that right?”
you nod, biting your lip— smug, way too smug, still playing the part of an unbothered princess when really, your fingers are curling tight in the sheets, already dripping and pulsing around the little bit of him he’s fed you.
and then, just to seal your fate, you whisper, “maybe you should go get the other one—”
“shut the fuck up.”
his voice snaps. and so do his hips.
you don’t even get to finish your sentence.
his cock slams into you in one swift, brutal stroke, so deep and sudden your mouth drops open in a choked gasp.
“oh—!” you yelp, legs twitching as your entire body jerks with the force.
“what was that, baby?” toji growls, voice mocking as he draws his hips back and slams in again, harder this time. “didn’t feel it? that right?”
you whimper, toes curling, arms reaching up to shove at his chest—but it’s hopeless. he’s already got your knees hooked over his arms and pressed against your chest, folding you in half, pounding into you so hard the bedframe starts creaking.
“don’t feel anything, huh?” he snarls, not letting up for a second. “then why’s this pussy so fuckin’ loud?”
he’s drilling into you now, hips snapping forward in quick, merciless thrusts, cock stretching you to the brim with each one. the harsh, wet clap of each thrust echoes off the walls, lewd and filthy and unrelenting.
“f-fuck—!” you cry out, hands scrambling for purchase against his biceps, nails digging in as your eyes roll back. “toji, fuck- oh my god!”
he grins, breathless and triumphant.
“there she is. couldn’t hear you over all that smart-ass shit earlier.”
“you’re such a dick—”
“mmhm. and now you’re chokin’ on it, ain’t you?”
he’s right. he’s so fucking deep, the head of his cock battering against that sensitive spot inside you over and over again, his pace going animalistic now. there’s nothing gentle left in him— just raw, punishing need. every stroke knocks the breath out of you, eyes fluttering as your body convulses under him.
“g-god, baby, please, harder—!” you cry out, barely able to get the words out fast enough before his hips pick up speed again, somehow going even faster, cock pistoning in and out of you so hard the entire bed starts to rock beneath you.
“harder?” he growls, sweat dripping from his brow, abs flexing with every thrust. “you sure? might split you open for real, sweetheart.”
“please- want it, want it so bad,” you babble, tears forming in your lashes now, your voice cracking from how hard he’s fucking you. “don’t stop—”
he doesn’t. not for a single second.
you can’t even keep your legs up anymore— he lets them fall limp around his waist, grabs you by the hips, and drags your body up the mattress as he slams into you again and again, fucking you ragged, fucking you completely dumb.
you’re moaning outright now, loud and messy and uncontrollable. every breath, every word, gets knocked out of you before it can form.
“yeah, that’s what i thought,” toji hisses through clenched teeth, voice dripping with self-satisfaction. “don’t talk shit unless you can take it, princess.”
you can’t. you absolutely can’t.
your orgasm detonates inside you, sudden and violent and body-shaking. your cunt spasms around him, milking him desperately as your vision whites out and your back bows off the bed.
toji doesn’t stop. not even when you sob out his name, not even when your body trembles with overstimulation, not even when you’re gasping for air.
he just fucks you through it, chasing his own high now— fast and wild and relentless.
“next time you say some dumb shit like that,” he pants, thrusting hard enough to bounce you up the bed, “i’m not stoppin’ till you pass out.”
and honestly?
you’re already halfway there.
i feel like toji would be saur fun to ragebait in bed bc he’d always fall for it sjdjsjs i need him so bad guys 😣😣😣
𝜗𝜚 maybe giving your hot best friend boner meds wasn’t very smart . . .
( mdni. cw: gojo suffers from erectile dysfunction, reader gives him viagra without him knowing, degradation, dumbification, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, overstim, gojo has a huge dih )
repost !!
you thought you were doing him a favor.
“i’m just saying,” he’d slurred a few nights ago, drunk off three beers and half a shot, head in your lap as he whined about his “tragic dick situation.”
you were scrolling on your phone, half-listening, idly scratching your nails through his hair like you always did when he gets drunk and clingy. “what tragic dick situation?” you asked, barely looking up.
“i think i’m broken, dude.”
your thumb paused over the screen. “…what?”
“no for real,” he groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face like he couldn’t bear to speak the words out loud. “couldn’t even get it up the other night. she was hot, too.”
you blinked. “maybe you were nervous?”
he groaned louder. “no. it was limp. like a noodle. a sad, floppy—”
“please shut up.”
“it’s dead, y/n,” he mumbled, with the conviction of a man who just lost everything in the divorce. “i have a ghost dick.”
you had to shove him off your lap for that one, laughing too hard to even be gentle about it. he rolled onto the floor and just lay there, dramatically sprawled, staring at the ceiling with the emptiest expression known to man. you thought it was a joke. something stupid he’d say while drunk and overly theatrical. but later that night, when you’re in bed staring off into space, his words kept replaying in your head.
a ghost dick. a broken dick. gojo satoru… flaccid?
you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
not that you cared about his random hookup or worried for his ego. but because, objectively, there was absolutely no reason for a man like him to ever be soft unless he wanted to be. 6’3, gorgeous, cocky as hell. dumb pretty eyes and long fingers and abs for days. he once moaned in your ear during a horror movie when you jumped and accidentally sat on his lap— said it was your fault. another time he leaned over you to grab the remote and whispered “do i make you nervous?” because your breath hitched. and don’t even get started on the way he’d sometimes walk around your apartment like it was his, half-naked in those cursed grey sweatpants, scratching his toned stomach and yawning like he wasn’t already the center of your personal hell.
so yeah. it wasn’t fair. the universe couldn’t just throw a man like that into your life and then also curse him with a broken dick. it didn’t make sense. it bothered you.
and because your brain was absolutely not wired correctly, you decided to take matters into your own hands.
three— maybe four— little blue pills. the bottle said one, sure, but you wanted to be certain it would take effect. crushed, mixed, stirred into his gatorade before he got there for your usual saturday night hang. he drank it without a second thought, sitting on your couch with one leg folded under him, sipping like he always did while complaining about how hard it is being this hot and pretending not to watch you stretch across the floor in your tiny shorts.
you weren’t even planning on doing anything. not really. you just wanted to see if it worked. wanted proof that his dick still functioned, for scientific purposes or whatever. just a little experiment. harmless!
you did not expect to spend the next hour getting absolutely annihilated.
+
“what the fuck did you give me,” he pants, white strands sticking to his forehead, sweat dripping down his temples, dick still hard, still buried balls deep inside your swollen, aching pussy.
your whole body’s trembling. thighs twitching, arms weak, lungs barely catching breath between sobs. you’ve already cum— twice? no, three times. maybe four. you’re not even keeping track anymore. everything’s sticky, slick, drenched in sweat and spit and the mess between your legs, and your voice comes out wrecked when you finally manage to breathe:
“just… a lil viagra…”
he blinks, once. then laughs— sharp and breathless and slightly unhinged as he grips your hips again, fingertips digging so hard you know you’re gonna bruise. “a little?” he echoes, cock pulsing inside you. “baby, this isn’t a little. this is the fuckin’ olympics.”
you barely get chance to protest before he starts moving again, hips snapping up, driving into you with utmost force like he’s trying to touch your fucking lungs. you squeal, legs kicking uselessly, eyes rolling back as the stretch hits again— painful, dizzying, toe-curling. it doesn’t even feel like you’ve had a break. every inch of your cunt’s raw and sore and he’s still fucking you like he just started. you swear he’s gotten harder. thicker. the first time he pushed in you genuinely thought he was going to break you, and now, it’s just worse. it’s been hell. delicious, addicting, horrifying hell.
“you wanted to help?” he grits out, slamming up again, his voice low and mean, sharp enough to slice through the moan that slips out of you. the squelch from between your legs is embarrassing in volume and way too revealing. “wanted to fix me?”
“yes- i’m sorry, fuck, ‘toru, you’re so big- i didn’t know—!”
“nah,” he spits, pulling out just to ram himself back in all at once, making your entire body spasm. your mouth falls open in a silent cry, tears leaking down your cheeks as your pussy clenches around him, begging for mercy. “don’t apologize now. you did this. you wanted to see if my dick still worked?” he thrusts again, even deeper. “here you fuckin’ go.”
his pace is brutal. relentless. his stamina? inhuman. everytime you try to crawl away, squirm, or twist your hips and breathe, he clasps your thighs and drags you right back down onto him, using your body as his own personal toy. your cunt’s soaked, slippery, stretched out beyond imagination from the constant pressure and the punishing way he keeps fucking into you like he can’t stop— like the drug is pumping through his veins and turning him into a machine. his cock glides in and out with wet, messy sounds, the fat tip dragging across your abused walls, kissing your cervix with every stroke.
“gonna write a report on it?” he huffs against your neck, biting your shoulder hard enough to make you jolt. “‘viagra results: gojo satoru fucks like a demon.’ put that shit in a thesis.”
“shut up—!” you cry, slapping weakly at his arm, but it’s no use. your moans betray you anyway— breathy, high-pitched, stupid. your body’s giving up, your pussy’s giving in, clenching so tight around him it’s like your brain’s trying to melt out of your ears.
“make me,” he snarls, thrusting harder, faster, he’s so deep your vision goes white for a second.
you try. you really do. but he’s fucking you so hard now you can barely think, let alone speak. every word dies on your tongue, strangled by the way your breath stutters, whimpers tumbling out of your mouth like sobs. your moans get slurred, choked, punched out of you with every thrust. your eyes roll back and still, he doesn’t stop.
“fuck, listen to you,” he pants, staring down at the way your tits bounce wildly with every roll of his hips. “actin’ like a lil sex doll. my dumb, pretty fucktoy.” he leans closer, tongue dragging across the rim of your jaw. “you wanted me hard? wanted me desperate? look at what you did to me.”
you nod dumbly, overwhelmed to the point you could hardly remember your own name. the moment those words leave his mouth, your pussy squeezes like it’s trying to trap him in. he groans, deep and ragged, cock twitching violently inside you.
“toru, i can’t, i can’t anymore—” you sob, voice cracking completely.
“yes you can,” he growls, “you will. i’m not done testing.”
and then he flips you over, quick and brutal, your face shoved into the sheets before you even have time to react. you shriek when he yanks your hips up and slams back inside, no warning, no mercy, the angle curves his cock right into your g-spot with maddening precision. you scream into the pillow. scream again when he grabs your hair and pulls, arching your back for him, his hips pistoning into your ass with a sound so loud it’s practically pornographic.
you don’t even try to crawl anymore. it’s pointless. your body’s done. broken in. you just lay there and take it, crying into the sheets while he wrecks you from behind, drilling into you over and over and over. as one of his hands fists your hair, the other’s slapping your ass so hard it burns, the sting blooming across your skin in waves.
“so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, jaw clenched. “so wet. so mine. god, look at you. takin’ this monster cock like you were made for it.”
you can’t stop clenching. can’t stop cumming. he fucks you through another orgasm, and another, until your thighs seize up and your brain’s nothing but static. your drool seeps into the pillow. your moans have dissolved into nothing but mindless gasps and cracked cries. you’re babbling nonsense, stuttering, barely conscious.
and the most terrifying part?
he still isn’t done.
+
you wake up the next morning with your legs completely numb and gojo snuggled up beside you, soft snores puffing against your neck, his heavy arm draped across your waist like dead weight. your entire body aches. your thighs are sticky. your hips feel as if they’ve been dislocated. you try to move— just a little— and immediately regret it. your knees wobble at the mere thought of standing. your pussy’s still twitching, your sheets are ruined, and he’s still somehow half-hard against your ass.
you groan softly. try to sit up. fail instantly.
gojo stirs beside you, yawns into your skin, then peels himself away with a pitiful grunt. he blinks around the room like he has no idea where he is, squints down at his still throbbing erection and mutters something about “fuckin’ viagra from hell” under his breath. then he limps off to the bathroom, still naked, cupping his dick like he’s protecting it from a sniper.
you’re barely awake when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. the screen lights up with a notification.
gojo (dumbass 🫶):
bro
this thing still won’t go down
can’t even piss
help 😭
rip gojo after this bc he’s def dying from that lethal dose of viagra 🕊️💔 (i was debating on reposting this tbhhh, but i feel like i gave enough warnings at the top so if anyone still reads it and gets #triggered then that’s on u babes)
synopsis . When you get paired with your campus frat’s resident asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin! Nor did you expect to be the one to change that.
content . afab!reader, virginity loss, oral sex (m!receiving), premature ejac, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, porn with a lil plot, teasing, taunting, filth, nipple play (m!receiving), pussy slapping, creampie, confessions, cum eating/making him taste himself, piercings, reader’s pretty blunt, somewhat of a size kink, Sukuna’s kinda soft here and there, slightly dom!reader, etc.
word count . 10.5k | author’s note: this is a combined repost from kamitv! i want all my works on one account so if this looks familiar, that’s why. banner art by Rororogi Mogera.
Who would’ve thought?
Of all people, Sukuna, a virgin? It just didn’t make sense.
He was this stand-offish asshole who most people respected out of pure fear. He'd claim not to "do parties" and yet you could always find him at one. He’d always have some chick on his arm or even in his lap so, in what world would anyone with a brain assume he’s actually never been inside a woman before?
And to make his lack of game all the more unbelievable, he’s even rumored to have a big dick—it’s like some well-known campus fact about the guy! Cosigned by his closet frat brothers, too.
So, again, what reason would anyone have to think the guy was a virgin?
Certainly not you, of course. And you don’t expect to be the only person to find out such information either.
The way you find out is probably even more bizarre than the fact itself. You and him had little to no reason to ever interact with each other. You weren’t some shy nerd who holed herself up in her room all day or anything, but you weren’t much of the party type other.
You were stuck somewhere in the middle of all that, vicariously living through some of your friends who had better things going for them.
As such, there was no real reason for you and Sukuna to cross paths. He never even had a reason to acknowledge your existence until the two of you are paired up together for a project in the one class you happen to take together.
——
The background noise is the chatter of your fellow classmates and their own project partners, you find your partner grumbling out a low, “What?” In response to your last statement, having hardly heard a thing you said.
“I said,” You huff, sitting beside the man in question as today marks week two of you being paired up with him for this semester’s project, “We should be meeting up outside of class too. We could get this knocked out in like a day if you just-“
“Oh that,” Sukuna cuts off casually. Seated all slouched back in his seat, his legs sprawled out in that signature manspread of his—he rolls his eyes at your little reminder, “You said somethin’ about that last week.”
You speak through slightly gritted teeth, fighting the headache he’s about to give you from this conversation alone, “All the more reason for you to take it into consideration. The faster we get this done, the less we have to deal with each other.”
As you say that, you glance at him only to find his eyes directly on yours already. He’s got such lazy posture, his head tilted slightly whilst he gazes at you so intently, and his big muscular arms folded across his chest. Even wearing a black hoodie and gray sweats, he still looks as attractive as ever—mean low-lidded crimson eyes locked on yours, tattooed face so beautifully defined, and rosy lips pulled into such an uninterested little frown.
Up until your words hit his ears properly, “The less we have to deal with each other, huh?” Sukuna repeats, narrowing his eyes even further at you, “You barely even know me and yet you want nothing to do with me already.”
“I know enough about you, Sukuna,” You say with a sigh, “And you hardly contribute to this project as is. Which only proves that everything they say about you is probably true.”
He arches a brow, his interest piquing, “And what exactly do people say about me?”
You let off a light scoff, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“But I don’t know,” Sukuna tells you honestly, maroon eyes boring into yours.
You stare for a moment as you try to decipher whether or not he’s being honest right now. How does he not know what people say about him? Everyone talks about his brooding personality very openly.
“They say you’re an ass,” You eventually say to the man.
To which his lips twitch into a slight smirk, “And you believe that?”
“Seeing as I’ve asked you to—at the very least—type your name on this document and you haven’t even done that yet,” You scoff, “Yes.”
The two of you mildly glare at one another for a moment before Sukuna leans up in his seat. Breaking eye contact for just a moment to look at his laptop, he swiftly moves to open up that shared document of yours and types his name out with a heavy sigh.
After which, he’s slouching back again and looking at you, “Don’t believe everything people tell you, woman.”
You roll your eyes at him, “What? Are you not fond of rumors? That still doesn’t negate the fact that you’re an assho-“
“When do you want to meet up?” Sukuna grumbles out almost reluctantly, watching the way you pause and swallow thickly as he catches you off-guard.
He’s almost even intrigued by how quickly you bounce back, despite being caught by surprise, “Friday. Are you free?”
“Unfortunately,” He grumps.
You give him a little shrug, “Good. I’ll see you then.”
And that was it. That was how each and every interaction with you and Sukuna went. Bickering back and forth about him not doing shit to help you with something that’ll affect your grade majorly, criticizing you about being too focused and needing to relax every now and then, and even calling you a stuck-up little brat one time—it was safe to say, you and Sukuna didn’t get along too well.
Not that you minded anyway. He wasn’t your first partner to care little about their grade so, you knew how to deal with these kinds of people by now. Typically, you indulge yourself in their craving to ‘relax’ just once and then they promise to start helping. You’ve gone down that path before and it’s worked for you just fine so you assume things will go the same way with Sukuna.
Plus, you guess you can give him a slight pass for his asshole attitude, at least he has a pretty face to look at. Black ink always decorating his awfully smooth skin, deep dark yet beautiful ruby-shaded eyes boring into whatever it is his focus on, and broad shoulders looming over your smaller figure every time he stands in front of you—you can't help but feel both attracted and intimidated by the man.
——
Which is exactly why when you open your apartment door for the scheduled meetup that Friday to crane your head up at him, you’re swallowing thickly to settle your nerves. You’ve never been alone with the man so of course you’re a bit nervous.
Especially with the way he gazes down at you like that’s exactly where you belong: beneath him. His eyes are filled to the brim with intensity and yet he’s only just set them on you. Wearing a noticeable black compression shirt and those signature gray sweats of his, he almost appears as though he’d just come from the gym.
And just as you take in his appearance, he very openly takes in yours—his eyes raking over your body and taking in every single inch of you. After all, just as it was your first time alone with him, it was his first time seeing you dress so comfortably. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares at your tits peeking out from the rather thin spaghetti-strap top you were wearing, his eyes soon trailing down slowly to those tauntingly short shorts you had on.
“So,” Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips and cocks his head to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes yet to lift from your legs, “Are you gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna let me in?”
You blink out of whatever little daze you were in, having found yourself gazing at his chest far longer than you meant to. It was right in front of your face after all, how could you look anywhere else? And his shirt was so damn tight, the fabric hugging his well-toned body perfectly, so much so that you swore you could make out piercings on his-
Sukuna leans forward suddenly, his face nearing yours to gain your full attention, “If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna assume you invited me over for something else-“
“Sorry,” You chirp out as you clear your throat and awkwardly step back a bit to let him in, “You can come in.”
Nodding, Sukuna slips by you and you shut your apartment door behind him. Then, you’re quick to lead him over to your living room where you’d previously been working on your project.
The two of you are hasty to take a seat on your couch, both of you only a few inches apart from one another whilst you lean toward your coffee table and log into your already open laptop. Sukuna’s eyes are all over you as always, studying your side profile, your intent focus on the screen in front of you, and even the way you-
“Did you even bring anything?” You suddenly ask before you glance at the man.
Sukuna quickly meets your gaze, ripping his eyes off of wherever they’d been previously, “Was I supposed to?”
“Sukuna,” You sigh out, “Please tell me you’re joking right now.”
He swallows at the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue in that scolding tone of yours—he's heard such a tone from you time and time again and yet, for whatever reason, it never seems to annoy him.
“I’m not.” He says plainly.
“How are we supposed to work on this if you-,” You cut yourself off and decide not to even attempt arguing with him. Arguing won’t change the fact that he showed up with nothing. “Just uhm,” You glance elsewhere for a second before an idea comes to mind and you place your laptop down and stand up, “Stay here.”
Sukuna doesn’t say anything. He merely watches as you huff and walk off, swiftly exiting the living room and disappearing down a nearby hall. He swears he finds himself looking at you a bit more than intended. Especially as you walked off, his eyes dropping to your ass and those damn shorts of yours.
Even when you’re out of his sight, he still finds himself staring in the direction of which you went, almost unable to look away for whatever strange reason.
That lasts for a few minutes until he snaps out of it and leans back against the couch, tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. You soon return to find him with an arm stretched along the back of the couch, his legs spread as usual, and his eyes up on the ceiling.
He doesn’t even notice you’ve returned until he feels something placed in his lap. Looking down, Sukuna finds your laptop kindly set on top of him. To which his brows furrowed in confusion and he looked at you to see you sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table with a paper and pencil in front of you.
“What’s this?” Sukuna scoffs.
You don’t even spare him a glance as you begin writing something down, “How we’ll get things done.” He opens his mouth to say something but then you’re looking back at him with a glare, “I already organized the parts of this project that you have to do so, since it’s on my computer, you can work on that and I’ll work with what I remember.”
You wholeheartedly expected him to find something about this to disagree with you on but, to your surprise, he simply nods and redirects his focus to your laptop immediately.
And then, the two of you work exactly like that for the remainder of that little study session.
——
Sukuna’s not terrible to work with when it’s just you and him. If anything, he’s rather cooperative and a lot smarter than he leads on.
Which is why a solid two hours of productivity flies by surprisingly smoothly with him. If you asked him a question, he answered. Told him to do something, he’d say something snarky, and then do whatever it is you’ve instructed anyway.
It all went so perfectly up until he let out a really heavy sigh, “Alright, I’ve had enough for this.” Sukuna says casually.
He’s been repeating a similar phrase every thirty minutes or so but he usually gets right back to work after getting ignored by you. This time though, you get the feeling he’s serious when he pushes your laptop off of his lap and places it forward on the coffee table.
It’s then that you frown, “Oh c’mon, we were getting so much done,” You comment as you glance back to him.
He shrugs, “I can’t keep looking at that damn screen, it’s giving me a headache.”
“Of course it is,” You utter sarcastically, rolling your eyes whilst you place your pencil down and throw your arms up to stretch, “Fine then, we can take a break.”
Sukuna’s brows lift in surprise. He didn’t expect you to listen to him, “Good.” He hums, “I was getting bored as well.”
You scoff, “Were you?”
“Yeah, can we do something else?” He asks.
Turning around, you rotate the way you’re sitting so that you’re facing him and your back is resting against your coffee table. “Like what?” You muse, meeting his low-lidded gaze.
“Talk,” Sukuna says.
That’s it? He wanted a break to talk to you? Your eyes are narrowing at him before you even realize, “Talk?” You repeat with a scoff, “Seriously?”
He nods, “Mhm.”
“What do you wanna talk about, Sukuna?” As you ask him that, you watch the way his eyes casually slide down to your lips.
Does he mean to be this indiscreet with his looks? Or is he eyeing you down like that on purpose?
The man shrugs, “Anything outside of fuckin’ school.”
You laugh at that, “Okay, I can work with that.”
He tilts his head at you and licks his lips, “Yeah?” Something about your little laugh threw him off.
“Mhm,” You hum as you look down at your hand, fiddling with your nails a bit, “The rumors… are they true?”
Thrown off yet again, Sukuna’s brows pinch together. “Rumors?” He echoes in a genuinely confused tone, “What rumors, woman?”
The sound of your scoff makes him stiffen in his seat. Almost in an instant, the atmosphere had changed suddenly. “C’mon, don’t play dumb,” You tease, lifting your gaze to him again, “The rumors about you.”
He gives you a perplexed look and it’s almost as though you could see the gears in his head turning. “If you know something, say it.” He demands.
You sigh, “Sukuna, do you seriously hear nothing people say about you?”
Sukuna shrugs, “I don’t care enough to remember. So what is it? What rumor?”
You’re just curious. You swear that’s all it was. And, naturally, since he seemed to have warmed up to you—of course you wanted to know if that rumor about his dick was true. You’re both adults and it’s just a silly question. Plus, with the way he’s been looking at you all afternoon, you’re sure he won’t mind answering you with a simple yes or no.
Glancing to the side, your shoulders lift a bit, “It’s uh, rather intimate.” You hush out.
Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, “Intimate?? An intimate rumor about me?”
His emphasis on himself makes your eyes flick back over to him. “Yeah, are you sure you don’t know what they say about you??” You ask again.
“Positive. Now speak, what is it they say?” Sukuna huffs impatiently, even more curious about this little rumor after the mention of it being intimate. After all, he’s never-
“People say you have a big dick,” You utter way too casually.
So nonchalantly that it makes him choke, a choke you don’t mess with the way he clears his throat and sits up a little. “What?” He rasps out.
You bat those stupidly false innocent eyes at him, “I didn’t stutter,” Your tone dips into something different and he catches every bit of it, “People say you have a big dick, is it true?”
Sukuna clears his throat and for the first time, he glances away from you. Then, he opens and closes his mouth, contemplating his next words carefully before they soon fall from his lips, “You wanna find out?”
His offer spurs a shift in your seat from you as you scoot closer to him ever so slightly, “You wanna show me?” You ask boldly, your tone direct, and not even a flicker of hesitation present.
“Do I want to-,” Sukuna pauses, his eyes scanning the entirety of your seated frame as you inch closer to him, “What?” He huffs, swallowing thickly.
You move to stand on your knees and lean forward to the couch, soon propping your chin up on your palm as you look at him, “Show me,” You chuckle, “I asked if you wanted to show me, Sukuna.”
He blinks, “Show you my cock?”
You shrug, “Yeah.”
The air is so thick right now, Sukuna’s not sure how exactly he can play this off without making a fool of himself. He gulps yet again, only to watch as your eyes start to drop down along his body.
“Stop,” He rushes out, “Keep your eyes up here. On mine,” He commands in a low tone, earning your gaze once more.
And then it’s quiet for a moment. He’s staring at you and you’re obediently keeping your eyes up on his. Sukuna hates it but he doesn’t know what to say or do from here. The last thing he wanted was for you to find out his little secret.
It’s like he was waiting for a fucking pin to drop, something to break the silence. Yet, his mind was going blank and words were failing him at the moment. He’s flirted with women before, plenty of times actually, effortlessly even—but for whatever reason, as you sit there with those stupidly pretty eyes staring at him, his mind simply flakes on him.
He’s like that for a minute longer until you move. So subtly too, sliding a hand to his thigh, leaning forward slightly, batting your lashes at him, “Sukuna?” You whisper.
His hips are rolling upward slightly at the sound of his name alone. “W-What?” He stammers, mentally cursing himself a thousand times over.
“If you don’t wanna show me you can jus’ say no,” You hum, smiling a bit, “Y’know that, right?”
He scoffs, “Of course I know that, woman.”
“If you know that then…” Your fingers lightly squeeze his thigh and you tilt your head, “Are you gonna tell me or show me whether or not those rumors are true?”
Something simply clicks inside Sukuna’s head. Rose-tinted lips cracking into a smirk, the man spreads his legs further and slouches back into the couch, “Find out for yourself since you’re so curious.”
Your eyes go wide, “What?”
Sukuna scoffs lightly, moving one of his arms from the back of the couch and placing his hand over his crotch. Of course, your gaze sinks down to his veiny hand, watching as he palms a stupidly large bulge in his sweats.
Your breath hitches a bit, “I-“
You don’t even get the chance to get it out before he’s cutting you off, “C’mere,” Sukuna hums in that low voice of his.
“What?” You whisper.
You and him make eye contact again and he nods his chin toward the space in between his legs. Nothing can really explain why you follow his gesture and quickly find yourself sitting in between his legs, taking a deep breath as you settle your hands on his thighs.
Sliding your touch up and up and up until your fingers graze his hand. The same hand that was resting on top of that aching bulge of his.
Sukuna slowly lifts his hand up and away, relaxing his arm on the back of the couch again as he stares down at you. Cocking his head to the side, “Well? Feel it.” He huffs.
You don’t even hesitate. Trailing your fingers upward carefully until you feel the outline of his cock beneath your fingertips, gulping as you drag your hand up to cup his length in your hand firmly, and smirking at the way his cock twitches furiously beneath your small touch.
Sukuna’s mouth falls open for a second but you’re too engrossed in feeling him to notice. He lets out a shuddered breath as he watches the way you grope his steadily growing erection. His head even tosses back and his fingers dig into the couch for a moment.
“It is big,” You whisper to yourself, your words only making him twitch more within your hand.
“Fuck,” Sukuna grits out lowly, hips unconsciously lifting to press himself further against you.
His curse earns your attention. You quickly glance up to him and see the way he’s got his head tossed back, Adam's apple bobbing with every heavy gulp he takes, and his chest rising and falling rather quickly.
You lift your hand carefully and decide to test something out. Slowly, you lean forward and just barely press your lips against his clothed cock.
Sukuna’s whole body reacts. He gasps louder than he means to and he’s weaving his fingers through your hair faster than he realizes, palming your scalp as he quickly looks down at you. “T-The fuck are you doing? Huh?” He huffs while gripping onto your hair.
You lift your head a bit but he keeps you in place, despite his question to you. “I just…” You’re not exactly sure you can explain yourself.
And by this point, Sukuna doesn’t think he cares enough to hear an excuse from you, “…You what? You wanna see it?”
All you can do is give him a little nod before he moves his free hand to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Then you're quick to help him tug them down until his boxers are revealed to you—a noticeable dampness in the fabric right where his leaking tip is. Was that because of you?
Before you can dawn on your own questions, Sukuna’s moving to tug his cock out. And fuck is he even bigger revealed before your eyes. With an upward curve, such an angry flushed tip, precum dripping from the slit of his fat cockhead, veins decorating his shaft and-
Shit, you were drooling. How’d you get like this again?? Ah, who cares.
“Sukuna,” You breathe out, ripping your eyes away from his cock just to look up at him.
He was almost panting, dark maroon eyes pouring down into yours, face flushed with different shades of red and pink, his lips parted softly—hell, he looked like he was in heat or something.
Gulping before he answers you, Sukuna clears his throat and his voice is already husky, “What?”
You shift against the floor, your hands relaxing against his large thighs, “Can I-“
“Yeah,” He cuts off. Lord knows if you got that question out he was going to lose his damn mind.
You raise a brow and lean forward, keeping your eyes on his while your lips near his tip, “Yeah?”
The last thing you get from him is a nod before you’re parting your lips. And from that moment forward, it all goes downhill. Everything from the way you’re sitting in between his legs to that initial connection of your plush lips against his drooling cock had Sukuna’s mind spinning.
He’s never been sucked off before. Hell, the farthest he’s gone as far as sexual activities are concerned is a little bit of dry humping. But this? Oh hell, this was his first time and he had zero idea how he was going to keep that information away from you.
Especially when he feels your tongue slip from between your lips and swirl around the head of his cock, kittenly lapping up that slim layer of precum sitting so prettily on his tip.
“Oh f-fuuck,” Sukuna groans huskily, the hand on your head gripping tighter.
You pull away from him slightly just to take in his expression and the way he tosses his head back. It was almost cute to you. The last thing you expected was for him to be so damn sensitive, you hardly did anything.
His sensitivity only worsens as you finally start wrapping your lips around his cock, feeling him throb when you sink your mouth down on him. Sukuna’s jaw goes slack and his brows twist up. He tries his best to hold it in but he can’t help but moan at the way you leisurely suck on half of his lengthy cock.
Your saliva wets up the rest of his shaft and you make up for what your mouth hasn’t reached yet with your hand, stroking him lightly whilst you take the rest of his girth in and out of your mouth. Rolling your tongue around him, pulling off just to messily spit and kiss on his blushing tip, and slobbering all over him—Sukuna almost fucking kicked something with how good your mouth felt around him.
He’s used his hand and other shit before but holy fuck, nothing, and he means nothing compares to that damn mouth of yours. The way you look with his cock stuffed right in between those lips he’s been staring at for God knows how long—your lips all slick with spit, eyes rolling back the deeper you take him, and tongue sticking out every time you pull your mouth off of him.
You soon slip your mouth off of him and start jerking him off, focusing your tongue on his tip and slithering the wet muscle in between the slit of his cock, lathering your tongue up with his glistening precum.
The sound of Sukuna groaning makes you look up at him, finding his eyes on yours again. He’s panting, trying his best to look like this wasn’t phasing him but failing in every way with how flushed his face was.
Your tongue sticks out and your hand continues to slide up and down his cock as you tap his tip on your tongue, making his brows twist up.
He bites back a throaty sound, “Hah… damn brat,” Sukuna huffs out as if to… degrade you?
You almost find it cute how clearly inexperienced he is, spitting a fat wad of spit onto his pretty wet tip and then smiling at him, “Sukuna,” You coo, your hand gripping his shaft tighter, “Is this your first time?”
He instantly looks off to the side, the veins in his neck and along his jawline tensing as he grits his teeth. Since he decides to ignore your little question, you take it a step further and slide your hand down his cock, gripping his thick base firmly before taking him into your heavenly warm mouth again.
His expression breaks completely, “Oh shit,” Sukuna moans, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you slide him deeper into your mouth than you did before.
Then his hand is pushing your head down further on instinct and he’s subtly rutting his hips up. You lift your head up despite his constant pushing, soon causing your head to bob up and down whilst you suck him off skillfully.
“Jus’ like that,” Sukuna suddenly groans and you moan around his cock in reaction. To which he keeps giving your mouth mindless little thrusts, “Don’t s-, agh, stop.”
Sucking him deeper and deeper before you move your hand completely, you suck in a deep breath of air through your nose, open up the very back of your throat, and sink all the way down, your lips meeting his pelvis as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Sukuna kicks something. Probably your coffee table with the way one of his legs extends out so suddenly, a choked-out groan ripped from his throat as your little move was all it took for him to cum. And it’s so much too, hot thick ropes of cum spurting down your throat, his hand holding onto your head for dear life whilst a moan of your name rolls off his tongue.
You’re still sucking too, pulling up only to swallow what he’s gifted you and then stick your tongue out. Laying it flat against his tip, you leisurely lick at him as if to beg for more and now the man’s pushing your head away for the first time.
When you lift your eyes up to him again, you notice he’s got his tattooed arm over his mouth and his lashes are batting softly at you. For such a big man, he was so ridiculously cute right now. Panting, sweating, cursing under his breath as if you couldn’t hear him.
“Yeah,” Sukuna utters suddenly, clearing his throat, “That was… my first… time. I uh-“
“Do you want more?” Is the last thing you asked him before you were sitting back on your heels and he was stumbling to his feet.
You had to guide him through it of course but, Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to stuff your face full of his cock again. You take him so kindly too, obediently sitting there with your hands gripping his thighs for support with every careful thrust of his hips.
He was trying to be gentle with you at first. Partially because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and also because he just loved the initial entry into your mouth. Over and over, Sukuna slid his dick in and out of your mouth like he was possessed, addicted to the feeling of you greedily sucking on him.
He was still sensitive from his first orgasm but his cock had yet to go down—twitching inside that sloppy mouth of yours, aching against your tongue, and dripping into the depths of your throat. Sukuna wasn’t much of a talker but he damn sure let out a plethora of grunts and groans.
They were so husk too, coming from deep within his chest, some getting caught in his throat when he felt your tongue flick against a specific vein on the underside of his cock. His fat tip knocked into the back of your throat with a single heavy thrust before his hands were latching onto the sides of your head.
Again, he’s not much of a talker but, something seems to come over him all at once because soon he’s got his gaze locked down on the messy sight of you and he’s huffing out words before he realizes. “Eyes up here, c’mon, hah… look at me,” Sukuna grunts.
Your eyes are completely glossed over as they flutter up to him. A moan vibrates against his skin as you make such intimate eye contact with the man, feeling his hips pick up.
Sukuna nods, “Good girl,” He praises in a low purr, and fuck does that do wonders for you because your legs are squeezing together more than they were before and you’re whining against him. “Fuck, y’like that?” He huffs, earning a sloppy lil’ nod from you.
He then feels you hum, “M-Mhm.” And he’s got chills slipping up his spine in pleasure.
Cracking a lazy, lopsided, and almost fucked-out little smirk, Sukuna scoffs, “Yeah? Fuck, behind all those g-glares ‘nd-, agh, scolding me… this is all you wanted, hm? A throat full of cock?”
His words had you whining again, fluttering your lashes at him as your fingertips dug into his thighs a little. Sukuna eases his hips back slowly, tipping his head to the side as he gently caresses the side of your face with his thumb.
“Messy girl,” He hums deeply, biting his lower lip at the way you’re just drooling for more and more as he pulls himself out of your mouth completely. “Jus’ look at this face,” Sukuna chuckles, “Y’look like a slut cryin’ like that—it’s cute.”
Blinking, you hadn’t even realized you had a tear or two sliding down your face. Your mouth remains open for a second before he moves to rub his tip against your plump lips, smearing your spit and his cum all over the damn place with a little grin on his face.
“‘Kuna…” You whisper, earning a quirk of his brow, “I can’t believe you’re a virg-“
“Don’t finish that sentence,” He grunts, moving a thumb to your chin to widen how open your mouth is for him, “Jus’… keep sittin’ there lookin’ pretty f’me,” Sukuna says.
You roll your eyes at him and all he can do is smile, pushing his hips forward again and easing his cock in between your lips. He slides in slowly until you can feel him pressing right against the back of your throat. To which he keeps himself there for a second, testing that gag reflex of yours and watching your eyes water.
Moving his hand back to the top of your head, he buries his fingers in your hair, “So fuckin’ sexy like this,” Sukuna compliments, feeling you moan in response, “M’gonna cum again, stay j-just like that,” He breathes out heavily, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull before he’s throwing his head back.
And as if to coax his orgasm out, you carefully move a hand to cup his balls, sucking on his cock as best as you can and earning an accidental sound from his throat. The second your palm is felt against him, the moment he feels your tongue slicking against him, Sukuna whines.
Then his thighs are tensing and he’s groaning loudly as if to cover up the sound that just left his lips, filling your throat with his seed and then tugging your mouth off of him with a quick pull of your head. You’re quick to swallow for yet a second time, letting out a needed cough after the fact while he stumbles back just a bit, his calves hitting the couch.
“Whore,” Sukuna growls.
You clear your throat and send a smile his way, “Not my fault you cum easy.”
Sukuna’s slow to sit back down on the couch to catch his breath, “Tell anyone about this and I’ll-“
“Oh,” You suddenly purr, cutting him off as you lift yourself up from the ground. He watches with slightly widened eyes as you move to straddle him, “Don’t tell me you thought we were done?”
He’s at a loss for words all over again, his confidence suddenly getting caught in his throat and flying out the window. Your hands slip to his broad shoulders and you lean forward a little.
Sukuna’s hands shakily find their way to your waist as he stares up at you, “You want more?”
You smirk, tilting your head at the dumbfounded male, “Don’t you?” You ask in a sultry little whisper, making his sensitive cock twitch once more. “At the very least…” Your lips slowly near his and he’s losing his breath, “Taste yourself, Sukuna.”
And then your lips are on his and he’s taking your tongue into his mouth. His grip on your waist tightens before he pulls you flush against him, feeling your crotch press right against his cock that’s steadily twitching back to life.
The two of you share a heated and messy kiss, your hips carefully swaying against him to encourage his returning arousal. You can’t really use curiosity as an excuse anymore, can you?
Well, you can. And you do with the way your hands slide down to his chest, your fingers slipping over his nipples to find exactly what you’d been curious about. You flick your fingers over his piercing there and Sukuna lets out a low hiss, prying his lips from yours and sending you a glare.
Not only did that little move of yours make his cock spring up completely but, you also notice the frown on his face.
Smiling at him, “Sukuna…”
“Don’t.” He huffs.
“You have nipple piercings?” You end up asking anyway in a happy little tone.
He grits his teeth slightly, “…Obviously.”
Chuckling, you press a soft peck against his lips and whisper, “Can I see them?”
“No.” He replies.
“No? Oh c’monnn, they’re just piercings!” You whine as your legs remain sprawled out over Sukuna’s muscular thighs.
Your panty-clad cunt was throbbing over his saliva-slicked semi-hard cock, and yet here Sukuna was still trying his very best to figure out a way out of this situation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go further with you—he was just nervous.
Not that he’d ever say that out loud though. Admit you’ve made him nervous? Oh please, in what universe?
Sure, you made him cum prematurely but that’s not his fault. No one told you to have such a slutty ass mouth.
Back to the present though, as you gaze down at him with those stupidly pretty eyes of yours, batting your lashes pleadingly whilst you await for the man to change his answer. It was simply unfair of him to have nipple piercings and not show you. It’s the least he could do after the head you just gave him, right?
“No, it’s not the ‘least I can do’,” Sukuna huffs. It’s then that you realize you’d spoken your thoughts aloud but—in a way—you’re actually glad you did so, “You’re not seeing shit, now get off of me.”
The pout that presents itself on your face is practically immediate, “C’mon ‘Kuna, I won’t touch them. I just wanna see,” You coo softly, tilting your head to the side as if to convince him, “Please?”
One simple word and his tip was wet with precum yet again. Sukuna swears he hates you. He hates the way you're looking at him right now, the way you're seated so perfectly on top of him, and the way he forgets how the hell he even got into this position with you in the first place.
Didn't he come over here to finish a project? Not have sex with you.
And yet, he can't find it in himself to say no to you again. That damn word you said, it did something to him. Sukuna's not sure what or why but his mouth is moving on its own, almost instinctively, "You wanna see them?" He sighs.
You're nodding, slipping your hands down to the hem of his shirt, "Yeah. Promise I won't touch."
"Tch. I..." Sukuna grits his teeth and you can see a pretty vein decorating his skin along his sharp jawline as he glances away for a moment, "I want you to beg me again."
Although you're a bit taken back by his request, you're quick to lean forward a bit and bite your lower lip, "Please?"
He ignores the word leaving you lips, his cock springing to life once more despite his attempt at leaving you unanswered. Given his body's reaction to you, all you can do is smirk before you're leaning down slightly and pressing your lips to his jaw.
"Pretty please, Sukuna?" You purr, warm breath hitting his now overly tense skin, "I promise I'll be good. Won't lay a finger on you unless you want me to."
His head slumps back against the couch and he inhales sharply at your soft touch sliding under his shirt, steadily working it up as the black fabric bundles up against your hands.
Then you're at his neck, sucking on his skin, rolling your tongue over him, shifting your hips forward against his cock and he simply groans. "F-Fucking, fine." Sukuna huffs, annoyed out of his ever-loving mind at whatever control it is you seem to have over him.
He hates you. He swears he hates you. Everything about the way your hands quickly tug his shirt up over his head, tossing the fabric elsewhere as you set your greedy eyes on his chest, the way your eyes widen at how flushed his skin is, and the sight of your tongue swiping over your lips as soon as you set your sight on his nipples.
Such pretty contrasting metal decorated his very pretty swollen nipples. So flushed with shades of pink and red, itching to be touched—just one flick and you knew he'd let out the most heavenly sound. The problem was convincing him to let you touch his nipples.
They were so damn tempting though, you swore you were drooling at the sight. God, you just wanted to reach out and-
"No," Sukuna rasps out. Your eyes snap up to his face and your pussy throbs at his expression.
He's beyond embarrassed. His eyes almost look glossed over with how desperate he was for you to stop looking at him. And yet he was so pouty and grumpy too, plump lips pulled into the cutest little frown at how hungry you were looking at him, his breathing unsteady all over again, and his cock felt twitching wildly beneath you.
You smirk, "'No'... what?"
"No, you cannot touch them," He's slow to clarify that, having seen right through those greedy eyes of yours, "You wanted to see and you've seen so-"
"I can make you feel good though," You purr, leaning in close to him all over again. "Jus' let me-"
"No," Sukuna mutters sternly. Then his hands are meeting your hips and his grip alone makes you flinch.
His touch is filled with intent as he slides his hands back to your ass and gives you a nice and firm squeeze, tugging you against him and making you gasp at the way his dick twitches right against your cunt. Your hands go to his shoulders to stop yourself from being pulled flush against him and he gazes dead up into your eyes.
How does one look so needy and yet commanding at the same time? It was like Sukuna told you thousands of words through his gaze alone. Maybe it was his very apparent physical need for you, or maybe it was just how attractive he is when aroused but fuck his look had your body hot all over.
Sukuna lets out a small breath of air before he drops his raspy tone even lower to a whisper, "Fuck me," He utters, feeling the reaction your cunt has to his words and cracking a cocky little smirk, "Fuck me, and you can touch me as much as you wish to."
You gulp thickly. Did you forget how to speak for a moment because all you do is open your mouth and it was like no words were even coming to your brain. His gaze was to intense and starved, large hands playing with the fat of your ass while he lifts his hips up slightly.
Then you gasp again, his thick tip was pressing right against your needy hole through the few layers of clothing that remained and you felt drunk off of your own arousal. Nodding and whispering in return, "O-Okay," Your hands slide around his neck and you lean in until your lips are meeting his again.
And if you were drunk off of your arousal then he was fucking high off of his own—feeling faded out of his mind with the way he leisurely moves to undress your lower half as he kisses you like he's done so a thousand times before, sliding his tongue into your mouth, swallowing up your moans, sucking on your lower lip, and undressing you all in one go.
Hell, for a second you forget the man is a damn virgin.
And as if to combat with that—you feel like a damn virgin once you start sinking your saccharine walls around Sukuna’s thickly curved cock. Gasping against his lips and feeling his fingertips curl into the skin of your waist, his jaw-dropping and lips quivering against yours as he lets out the most guttural groan he’s ever uttered, and both of your eyes fluttering at the connection of his body to yours.
Sukuna’s deeply shaded red eyes are hazy on yours as you sink down on him. His mind is turning to mush and he swears he’s about to pass the fuck out. It could’ve been the way your face looked as your cunt greedily sucked in his cock, or how tight your walls clamped down on him but, either way, Sukuna felt hot all over. Dizzy with lust and faded off of everything that’s you.
Every inch of you, the feel of your squeezing wet pussy enclosing around his aching cock, that breathy squeak of his name leaving your lips, and then your fingers grazing his chest-
Sukuna’s brows twist up and his entire body flinches instinctively. Hips bucking up slightly, large hands urging you further down, and shaky sound escaping his wet blushing lips—he’d officially lost it.
He looked so damn pretty doing so as well, not that you’d ever tell him that (you’ve embarrassed him enough for the time being). Those damn eyes of his were all glossed over, his bottom lip was shaking as a sexy-pitched gasp escaped his throat, and his hands held onto you for dear life whilst he bottomed out.
His fat cockhead kissing your cervix with little to no movement had you panting heavily while you kept your eyes low on his. “‘Kuna,” You feel his cock twitch desperately inside you and you toy with one of his sensitive nipples in between your index and thumb, “Y-You’re so-“
“Shut up,” He groans, and then he’s kissing you—desperately, hungrily-, starved. He knew another word from you would have your cunt stuffed full of his cum within seconds.
And as much as he wanted that, as much as he knew that’d be the end result of all this, he did not want to make yet another fool of himself. Though, the way your fingertips constantly flick over his pierced nipples makes him fucking whine into your mouth, a heavy grunt following after the sound as if to cover it up.
The hands your waist urge your body up, dragging your slicked walls up along his cock before allowing gravity to slam you back down. God the way you moan his name makes his knees feel weak. You were making him, as a whole, feel so utterly weak.
It wasn’t long before you were picking up a steady pace on top of him, your breaths shared with his and his eyes not once leaving yours. Sukuna was such a silent commander, that gaze of his told you everything, testing-, no, daring you to look away from him. He didn’t even know what it was about eye contact but he craved it so desperately.
Your gaze made his cock so stupidly hard, so much so that he just wanted to flip you over on this stupid couch of yours and-
And then he was. Sukuna doesn’t even register he’s repositioned with you until you let out the prettiest little whimper and your eyes roll back as he, almost experimentally, thrusts his heavy cock deep past your plush pussy lips.
What brings him back into the moment is that sound of you and the way you’re choking out his name, “S’kuna, f-fuck,” You almost hate that he’s taken control because you’ve lost your teasing of his chest, “Why’d you-, ngh-,” You’re cut off completely when he drags his hips back so torturously slow before rolling his hips down into you.
Shaking his head thoughtlessly, “Shut up,” Sukuna huffs again as he presses his bulky weight down against you, folding you into the meanest mating press and making you let out a filthy mewl at the sheer stretch of his girthy cock. “Please,” He sounds almost breathless, that plea of his hardly even audible, “Just be quiet f’me.”
Your jaw hangs open and you’re simply gaping up at the man with stupid, cockdrunk eyes. Something about feeling and watching him learn how to please you was probably more pleasurable than the sex itself. Which is saying an awfully lot because even though he didn't know what the hell he was doing, whatever he was doing, he was doing it right.
All you can do is wrap your arms around his neck and tug him closer, moaning his name softly every time his tip nudges into that mushy spot inside you. Sukuna lets out a low hum when he feels your nails claw at his back suddenly.
Then the cocky bastard has the nerve to fucking smile at you. Almost as if he enjoyed the pain of your nails scratching at his back hard enough to leave marks…
Because, of course, then he’s fucking you faster, harder, deeper. So determined to learn what you like, to learn your body inside and out (literally), and to have you mark up his back more than the dark ink that decorates his skin currently.
“Y’feel so fuckin’…” He can hardly even speak as he just grows addicted to pushing his cock in and out and in and out. That sloppy sound of your cunt squelching and wetting up his cock over and over again-, fuck he couldn’t get enough of it. “S-So fuckin’ good,” Sukuna’s voice almost softens as he shifts his lips to your ear, “Oh fuck, wanna…” His words trail off, a deep shade of blush coating his cheeks.
You can’t help but grow that never-ending urge to tease him, moving your lips to his ear, “Wanna what?” There was a slight shake in your voice but that didn’t save him from his cock throbbing at the sound of your voice alone.
“Hahh… wanna-, agh, wanna make you cum,” Sukuna admits begrudgingly. He sounded so ridiculously embarrassed saying that out loud but he was far too pussydrunk to care right now.
Thrusts growing heavier as if he were searching for a specific spot inside you, his eyes softening as he shifts to hover his face over yours once more, and his groans making your stomach churn with butterflies. Hell, you almost do exactly that of what he’s requested based on the sound of desperation in his tone alone.
Sukuna’s usually such a big, mean, sometimes stoic man, and yet here he was, silently requesting your assistance.
He is only a virgin after all.
“Not anymore,” He gruffs, catching you by surprise as you render the fact that those words left your lips. “C’mon, tell me what to do.”
Again, Sukuna swears on his life he hates you. He hates the way you’ve made him so weak, the way your cunt is so deliciously warm inside, the way you moan his name-
Fuck, he hates you.
“‘Kuna,” You whisper as you slide one of your hands from around his neck to slip to his hand and guide him, “My clit. You gotta-“
Your breath is caught in your throat all over again. You were trying to guide him just like he wanted you to but Sukuna was far too quick of a learner, swatting his thick thumb around in search before his ears twitch at the way your voice gets stuck in your throat.
“Here?” He has the nerve to whisper gently, “Rub here, right? Y’like that?” Sukuna asks as he matches his thrusts with the flick of his thumb, drinking in the way your back arches up off of the couch and your eyes roll back.
You’re nodding, “Yes yes-, r-right there ‘Kuna, fuck…”
His eyes rake over your face all over again and then he’s doing that thing where he speaks without thinking, “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”
Of course, those softly uttered words pull you out of your cockdrunken stupor for only a moment, “H-Huh?” You breathe out as your eyes meet his.
“I hate you,” Sukuna lies straight through his teeth, “Hate how pretty you look beneath me,” He’s babbling at this point, picking up his pace and trying to angle his cock into somewhere specific, “How fuckin’—god you’re squeezin’ me s’tight, hahh—h-how you sound moaning my name, taking my cock.” With that last sentence comes a particularly harsh thrust.
Your nails scrape at his back again and he moans in pleasure. Gloss covers your eyes as he finally finds that spot that has you seeing stars, “Sukuna,” You moan sweetly, feeling him hit that very spot over and over and over again.
“Again,” He huffs, leaning down even closer and pressing more of his weight onto you, “Moan my name again, brat.”
“Sukuna,” You’re moaning without the need for his instruction. To hell if the man is a virgin, he knows how to use his cock.
What he doesn’t realize is how big he is in comparison to anyone else you’ve been with. Stretching you open with every thrust, fucking you ridiculously full of all his thick inches, knocking his dripping tip right against your sweet spot, making your legs tingle in numbness, and rolling skillful circles around your clit as if he’d practiced doing so before.
“Fuckin’ perfect,” Sukuna rasps out, his eyes locked dead onto yours as usual.
He was so focused on you, so eager to make you cum. Obviously, he’d never felt anything like this before so he never wants it to end. And perhaps that’s the only reason why he hasn’t emptied himself into you yet.
Every time you’re felt leaving another bright red mark on his back, he lets out a low hiss before flashing a smirk down at you, thrusts growing harder. Then there’s the way you just gape up at him, jaw dangling as you’re so clearly lost in pleasure, and pussy swallowing him in whole each time he fucks himself back into you.
And your little gasps of, “Feels s-so good Kuna, don’t stop.” Have him reeling back on purpose, pretending to mistakenly slip his cock out of you for a moment only to slap his fat cockhead against your needy hole and then push all of himself right back in.
With a smug expression on his face, “Don’t tell me what t’do,” He responds.
“I jus’ did,” You argue back all in one breath.
God, he- , “I hate you,” The words are leaving his lips yet again but he can’t stop driving his dick inside you. You’re so fucking warm, so welcoming for him, so honeyed and sweet inside. Hell, for a second he wonders what you’d taste like on his tongue—despite never even going down on someone before.
“Yeah,” You flash a fucked-out little smile up at him and your walls grip onto him tighter, making his brows twist up, “But you love fuckin’ me.” Your little whisper makes him shudder.
He nearly cums at that, releasing a strangled groan before he just nods almost obediently, “Uhuh.” Sukuna mumbles, his hate for you growing with every passing second.
There you are under him, still teasing him despite the expression of pleasure plastered across your face, “Yeah?”
“M-Mhm,” He grumbles in response.
He can’t help but just agree with you. Of course he adores fucking you. If anything, he doesn’t think he’d prefer it be anyone else. After watching your cute ass all composed every week in class, listening to the way you lecture him for not paying attention as if you actually care about him, watching you grow surprised today at the way he can get things done when he puts in an effort-
Shit, of course he wanted to see you like this—splayed out like a pretty little slut for him, gasping his name, looking him in the eye, and allowing him to fuck you. God, his mind is spinning. He can’t think at all.
So lost in his head, you’re left spasming below him because he’s still thumbing at your clit and his cock is as unforgiving as ever, “Sukuna,” His name rolls off of your tongue beautifully and he’s left in awe above you.
Tilting his head, “What?” Sukuna breathes as he’s pulled from his daze and back to the present.
“Make me cum,” You order so suddenly.
As that third word leaves those lips of yours, Sukuna smirks knowingly and he leans up a little just to angle himself better inside you. He glances down at your cunt, biting his lip at the sight of his cock bulging inside you, watching himself push in and out for a second before his smirk turns into a lazy little smile.
“Already did’,” He scoffs, flicking his eyes back up to you.
Your brows twist up, “Wha-“
“Are you that dumb when cock is inside ya’?” He utters meanly and earns an immediate squeeze of your gummy walls around his veiny shaft, “You came a few minutes ago, brat.”
“I…” Your expression becomes dumbfounded and in an instant, you’re the one left embarrassed.
Which he finds all too cute, “Felt good though.” He comments smugly, looking back down to where you’re connected and tilting his head at the sight.
Fuck, he was so sexy above you. Even on his chest, bright red scratches decorated his skin. When did you do that? His nipples were still as flushed as his face and you wanted so badly to reach out and flick your fingers against them again.
Pouting, “Sukuna-“
“Do it again f’me,” The man cuts off.
You can’t even get a response out before he’s leaning down again, “I-“
This time you’re cut off by him pressing your legs together and against your chest, loving the pretty sight of you folded and bent to his will like this. All he can do is stare down and watch himself fuck you, seeing your swollen lips take in his fat length so fucking beautifully. It’s like you were made for him or something.
Your cunt only molds around his cock, sucking him in whenever he pulls out like you never wanted him to leave you. He could feel every throb of your pussy when he spoke to you, every squeeze of your warmth when he reached deeper than before, and fuck was he enamored by every second of it.
“Please,” He says breathlessly all of a sudden, itching to watch you cum on his cock this time around.
His begging is followed by him moving his hand back down to your pussy, his thumb sliding back in search of your clit. Rubbing those maddening little circles once he finds it, Sukuna focuses most of his attention on your body. Every little jump you make when he swats his thumb to the left, every pitch in your moan when he thrusts inside you at a certain pace—Sukuna soon smiles once he’s got you all figured out.
“Oh fuck,” You whimper, tossing your head back against the couch as your eyes loll to the back of your hand.
With that knowing smile on his face, the couch creaks with his rough thrusts inside you, “Stop makin’ me beg you for shit,” Sukuna grunts before gifting your throbbing pussy with a little smack, “Jus’ give it t’me.”
“Sukuna-, ah,” You’re choking at the sensation and your cunt narrows even more around him.
His toned pelvis smacks against you over and over, heavy balls hitting your ass with each shove of his fat cock inside your warmth, “Fuck,” The man heaves as he feels himself steadily growing addicted.
Why the hell didn’t he have sex with someone sooner?
“M’gonna cum,” You soon whine out to the man.
To which he clashes into you faster, feining for it, “Please, fuckin’ need it,” Sukuna groans before pressing down against you again.
His thrusts grow uneven and jagged, eyes rolling back when he feels you finally cumming around his cock for a second time. You were squeezing him so tight. All he could do was moan at how perfect you were.
“Shiit,” He huffs, his cock twitching wildly inside you before his mind goes completely blank, “I love you-“
Your brows immediately twist up, “Wha-“
And then he’s painting your walls white. Grunting, groaning, moaning-, hell, you name it and the sound was leaving his lips as he fucks his orgasm into you.
Then he’s babbling mindless little praises of, “Love this fuckin’ pussy,” Lost in filling you with his cum and listening to you whimper from overstimulation.
Gifting you with praise after praise about how beautiful you are under him like this, how much he adores his name rolling off your tongue. He can’t even fathom how much cum is spilling into you, velvety thick ropes painting your walls a creamy white to the point where it spills out of you and coats his hefty base with a filthy ring of white.
All while he continued to praise you, going as far as thank you in quiet little whispers. God, he was out of his mind. He wasn’t thinking in the slightest, his mouth was just saying shit.
So much so that he’s barely lucid as his high comes down, doesn’t process a thing he said to you moments ago, and just lays there for a while with his cock resting inside you. All he can do is pant heavily as he rests his body on top of you, not yet pulling out and leaving his softened cock inside you.
You’re completely still beneath him for a while, trying to catch your breath as your legs feel temporarily numb. You couldn’t get those three words he spoke to you out of your head.
His tone was so damn soft and vulnerable, just replaying it in your head made you smile. Before he notices your expression though, you wipe the smirk off of your face and coo his name softly, “Sukuna…?”
“Don’t.” Is all he has to say to you. He was well aware of what he’d said to you.
He didn’t mean it, of course. He was simply… lost in the moment.
“Aww,” You purr, an obvious breathlessness to your tone, “You said you loved me cause I took your virginit-“
Sukuna lets out a mean groan before moving your legs apart so he can meet your eyes again, “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
You flash a pout to mock him, “Why? ‘Cause I didn’t say it back?”
His face is all different shades of blush but he still looks as mean and grumpy as ever, “No…”
“You sure?” You tease further.
All he can do is roll his eyes at you, “Fuck you.”
And, naturally, you only continue, “I think you did that already…”
Sukuna sighs, “Just.. Don’t tell anyone about this.”
“As long as you promise we’ll do this more often.”
“I-, hah,” He smirks, “What are you, some kinda cockhungry slut?”
“No…” Your eyes drag themselves elsewhere for a moment, “But for you, maybe.”
“Mh.” Sukuna hums deeply, an unavoidable smile spreading across his face, “I think I like that.”
“I think you love it-“
“M’gonna ‘love’ fucking the snarky responses outta’ your mouth in a second if you keep it up,” He says flawlessly.
All you can do is swallow down whatever it is you were going to respond to that with.
To which he smiles, “Uhuh, that’s what I thought.”
toji will do just about anything you want if you fuck him right first.
18+ content: smut, pussywhipped!toji, sub!toji if u squint, fem reader, sugar daddy dynamics
whatever you’ve done to his brain should be illegal.
toji’s never paid for pussy in his life. he’s not that kind of guy. but he’d gladly hand over his life savings if it meant you’d sit on his dick and never come off of it.
he feels like a fool when you’re squeezing him the way you are right now. hands shaking with his head thrown back and his neck exposed. grumbling nonsense to himself while he musters up the strength to not blow his load right then and there.
this is the closest thing to submission he’ll ever give you. toji likes to call the shots in the bedroom, but right now? he chooses to lay back against the pillows and let you use his dick however you need to.
doesn’t matter if he’s already cum, he’ll pull you back on it even when the sensitivity stings hot behind his eyes. even when the feeling of your sloppy heat makes his brain feel like it’ll melt through his ears.
“y’know.” you start, bracing your palms on his knees to better rock yourself onto him “you haven’t taken me shopping in a while.”
“yeah?” he pants, not at all registering what you just said. “yeah, whatever you want baby.” his voice trails off halfway through the sentence, too focused on the ripple of your ass against his hips. men were so easy.
it’s nights like these where toji chastises himself for not being able to keep up with your impressive stamina. fucking you was a gift and a curse wrapped all under a pretty pink bow. you made him work for it.
you slow your pace just the slightest bit, looking over your shoulder with a teasing grin to offer him a silent opt out.
toji shakes his head immediately. like the thought alone is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard of.
“no, no. i’m fine. that dick is all yours.” he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck like a feral animal. “card’s all yours, money’s all yours. m’ yours.”
jackpot.
make no mistake, he could push his palm against your lower back and have you ass-up in a second. could decide he’s bored and fasten a hand to the back of your head, maybe pump you full of another load. but he doesn’t. whether that’s because of free will or because the synapses in his brain are overloaded with pleasure is something he won’t get into right now.
or maybe he’s just saying that to make himself feel better. maybe he really is the pussy drunk loser he never thought he’d become.
he says he will. says it like it’s cute, like aw baby, you wanna be in charge? with that glitter in his eye and his voice pitched all soft so you forget he’s the worst. says it while already lying down like he’s doing you a favor. stretches his arms behind his head like a goddamn lounge chair. he lets you crawl into his lap all pretty like you’re the one in control and not already playing into his hands.
because you start on top—that part’s true. thighs bracketing his hips, hands braced on his chest, cock thick and hot under you while he hums like he’s bored of waiting. you rock down slow, tight squeeze inch by inch, trying to savor it, trying to do it right this time—and then, as always, he cheats.
he palms your ass and grinds up into you with one filthy roll of his hips, grinning like he’s so generous, like he’s helping, like your little attempt at dominance was adorable and not doomed from the jump.
“you were taking too long,” he’ll murmur, breath hot against your neck while your pussy clenches and your ego implodes, “had to speed things up.”
every time. until tonight.
because tonight, for some reason—maybe the stars aligned, maybe he just likes watching you try so hard—he lets you. no hands. no thrusts. no smug commentary. he just lies back and watches.
you try not to let that get to you, try not to let the weight of his stillness scare you out of it, because you know him. know what he’s like when he’s bored, know the sound of the snort he makes when he pretends not to be impressed, know that smug little tilt of his mouth when he thinks he’s gonna win again.
but he’s not bored. he’s not smirking.
he’s fucking breathing through it, blinking slow and wet-eyed up at you like he’s never seen something so goddamn beautiful in his life, and you’re not even doing anything special—just rolling your hips with slow, steady circles, keeping him deep, kissing at his jaw while you whisper, “that good, baby?”
and he nods. dumb. flushed. glassy.
you kiss down to his ear. “is it too much already?”
he swallows.
“you feel good,” he slurs, hands twitching like he wants to touch, like he needs to, but he won’t—you said you’d ride him, and he promised, and his stupid pride is still bigger than his dick. barely.
you kiss the corner of his mouth. then his temple. “look at you,” you murmur, soft and teasing, “so quiet all of a sudden.”
“i'm trying” he breathes, “fuck—i‘m trying to be good.”
your pussy clenches around him, soaked and so fucking warm he shudders under you, whole body arching like he’s about to fold, and then you drag your lips down his throat and start to move a little harder, a little faster, still controlled but deeper now, grinding forward just right so he can feel your cunt squeeze and slide and flutter around every inch.
his mouth falls open. his lashes flutter.
“you’re so pretty like this,” you breathe against his cheek, “you gonna cum already, satoru?”
he whines. whines. you’ve never heard it before. it knocks something loose in your ribs. he grips the sheets.
you put your forehead to his. press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “baby,” you whisper, slow roll of your hips making his eyes roll back, “you’re still inside me. you know that, right?”
his hands fist the sheets tighter, arms trembling.
“you’re gonna cum from just this?” you tease, sweet and slow, “just me sitting on it, being so nice to you?”
“n-not nice,” he gasps. “you're not nice. you’re so—f-fuck—tight—”
and then his hips jerk up once—just once, without permission—and you feel it hit, deep and hard and hot, like a gut-punch. he gasps. loud.
“oh my god,” you whisper, eyes wide.
he grabs your waist like he’s dying, like he needs to stay inside, like he needs to feel every spurt while you’re still warm and clenched around him and holyshit, he’s still twitching.
“i didn’t mean to,” he pants. “baby, fuck, i didn’t—I couldn’t—i tried—”
you grin. lean down to kiss his lips, soft and slow. he moans into your mouth. still throbbing. still whining. you don’t even bother getting off. just stay there, full and warm and smug as hell, his cum already leaking, your cunt pulsing, his face so red you’re surprised he hasn’t short-circuited.
he’s still blinking up at you like you’ve personally rewritten his understanding of the universe.
when satoru bulks... every inch of him gets bigger ! ೀ
the change in satoru gojo was subtle at first, a shift you felt before you saw.
his usual effortless, lazy grace took on a new density. the playful shoves that used to make you stumble now planted you firmly in place. his hugs, always warm, became enveloping, a sensation of being surrounded by solid, humming power.
it wasn’t a bodybuilder’s bulk. it was the kind of mass that spoke of relentless, high-intensity training, of cursed energy honed to a physical edge.
his shoulders broadened, filling out his simple black jujutsu uniforms until the seams seemed to whisper threats. his chest became a defined wall, his arms corded with lean muscle that flexed with every casual gesture.
the line of his jaw seemed harder, the elegant cut of his collarbones now resting over a topography of pure strength. he was always beautiful, but now he was substantial. he moved with a new, quiet confidence, a panther aware of its own weight and reach.
he caught you staring one afternoon as he toweled off his hair after a solo training session, his shirt discarded on the floor. a slow, knowing grin spread across his face. “see something you like?”
“well. you look… different,” you managed, your mouth suddenly dry.
“yeah, i'm bulking” he shrugged, but the motion made the muscles in his back and shoulders roll in a mesmerizing wave. he sauntered over, the space around him feeling smaller, warmer. he stopped right in front of you, and you had to tilt your head back further than usual to meet his eyes behind the blindfold. “more to love, right?”
that was how it started. with him crowding you against the wall of his room, his new physique making the act feel different, more powerful. his kisses were the same—playful, demanding—but the frame that held you was not. his hands, large and capable, spanned your waist entirely, his thumbs meeting over your spine. you could feel the heat radiating from him, the sheer physical presence of him, and it made your head spin.
“you're so beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a low rumble you felt in your chest. he walked you backward toward the bed, his body pressing yours with a gentle, inexorable pressure that had you falling onto the mattress with a soft gasp. he followed you down, not with his usual floating grace, but with the full, delicious weight of him.
and that was the revelation. he didn’t hover. his chest pressed against yours, a warm, heavy comfort that stole your breath. his thighs parted yours, not just with intention, but with a solidity that pinned you in the most thrilling way.
you could feel every hard plane of him, the new breadth of his shoulders blocking out the light, the powerful swell of his arms caging you in.
“you feel… bigger,” you breathed out, your hands sliding up the dense muscle of his back.
“i am bigger,” he chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. he nipped at your earlobe. “everywhere. wanna check?”
he made you wait. he kissed and licked and touched with a focused leisure, his heavier weight a constant, thrilling anchor.
when his fingers finally slipped inside you, they felt thicker, stretching you more than you remembered, preparing you for the main event with a teasing promise. you were writhing beneath him, begging, before he finally, slowly, fed his cock into you.
your eyes rolled back. fatter was the only coherent thought. it wasn’t just length; it was a glorious, stretching girth that filled you completely, a perfect, tight fit that made you see stars. he groaned, a deep, satisfied sound, as he sank to the hilt. “fuck… you feel amazing. so tight f'me.”
then he relaxed.
he let his entire bodyweight settle onto you, crushing you into the mattress in the most exquisite way. the air left your lungs in a whoosh, replaced by the scent of him, the feel of him. you were utterly trapped, encompassed, buried under two hundred-plus pounds of satoru gojo. you couldn’t move if you wanted to. you could only take it.
“this okay?” he mumbled into your neck, waiting for your nod before his hips start a slow, deep roll. each thrust drove you deeper into the bedding, the fat, thick slide of him rubbing every perfect spot inside you. the weight was constant, overwhelming, merging with the friction until you couldn’t tell where one sensation ended and the other began.
“yes… god, yes!” you choked out, your nails digging into his shoulders. his pace remained steady, punishingly deep, each movement emphasized by the full press of his torso against yours, his stomach muscles rippling against you.
his breaths grew ragged in your ear, hot puffs of air. “you take me s-so well… all of me— fuck, look at you…”
you were a mess beneath him, reduced to whimpers and pleas, completely at the mercy of his new, devastating physique. the weight never lifted, even as his thrusts lost their rhythm, becoming frantic, driving jolts. he was coming, shouting your name, his big body shuddering as he poured himself into you, his weight pressing the climax so deep into your core it felt like it would never end.
he collapsed fully on top of you afterward, a sweaty, breathing mountain. you wheezed, happily crushed. after a long moment, he shifted just enough to prop himself on his elbows, looking down at you with a smug, sated grin.
“so?” he asked, brushing your hair from your forehead. “verdict on the new and improved model?”
you could only blink up at him, dazed and thoroughly ruined. “five stars,” you finally whispered. “would use again.”
he laughed, a bright, happy sound, and dropped a kiss on your nose before finally, reluctantly, rolling his immense, wonderful weight off of you, leaving you cold and already missing the delicious pressure.
