mdni. themes; age gap, toji x female reader, slow sex, sleepy sex, spooning, cockwarming, creampie.
some nights you got so restless that it was unbearable. you lay there for hours on end, squeezing your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to drift off to sleep — seemingly having no luck.
even wrapped in your older boyfriend’s arms, it was impossible some nights. tonight being one of them.
toji’s firm chest was pressed against your back, one strong arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close. he’d fallen asleep over an hour ago, leaving you wide awake and bored out of your mind.
unfortunately for toji, he was a light sleeper most of the time, constantly alert or on guard. so of course, he feels you squirm against him, sighing loudly as you somewhat give up on trying to sleep.
toji furrows his brows, opening one eye, easily woken up by your movements. “quit movin’," he grumbles, pulling his arm around you tighter, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“mm, can’t sleep," you respond, exhaling loudly again. toji drifts back to sleep easily, leaving you restless and bored once more.
you adjust your position, pushing your ass against him further. it was innocent enough at first, until you instinctively started grinding back against him, feeling his dick harden more and more with each movement.
toji’s eyes open again, a low groan escaping him as you continue to move your hips. “needy girl, need me t’ fuck you back to sleep? that what you want?"
his voice was deep and gravelly, slightly raspy from having just woken up — the sound only makes your cunt throb impatiently, desperate to be filled by toji’s thick cock.
"mngh, please—" you whine, feeling him begin to kiss the side of your neck lazily, hands making their way up your his oversized shirt. "yeah, i know, baby," he mumbles against your neck, squeezing your tits using two hands before trailing them lower, reaching your pussy.
you were already completely soaked.
something about the way his warm body pressed against you, hands exploring your body whilst he was half asleep, had you needier than ever.
he circles your clit lazily with two fingers, then plunges them into your cunt, curling them upwards so skilfully — so deliciously.
“fuck, don’t even need t’ warm you up. pretty cunts’ already drippin’ for me, huh?"
you nod feverishly, tilting your head back against his shoulder, giving him access to your throat as he withdraws his fingers, making you mewl from the loss of sensation.
"need it, please — now," you beg quietly, hearing him shimmy his sweatpants down, thick, throbbing cock slapping against your ass.
"shhh, s’okay. gonna give it to you," toji coos, lining his leaky tip up with your entrance.
without wasting a second, he pushes in, groaning sleepily into your ear as he bottoms out inside of you. you gasp quietly, beginning to rock against him, fucking yourself on his dick.
he places one hand on your hip, the other making its way around to rub slow circles over your clit.
“stay still, doll. just relax f’me, let me do the work," he rasps, rolling his hips against you, effortlessly hitting all the right spots.
you moan breathily, shutting your eyes as he fucks you to sleep. “mph, toji— feels s’good," you moan, opening your legs slightly wider, granting him more access.
“that’s my good girl, squeezin’ me so tight," he purrs.
you rarely saw this side of him when it came to intimacy. slow, gentle — deep strokes that had your eyes rolling back.
it was heaven on earth.
his thrusts remained unhurried, though his fingers quickened their pace, circling your swollen bud. "m’so— aghnn— close," you moan, becoming more fatigued with each dizzying roll of his hips.
“cum f’me, baby. thereee we go."
with a few more deep thrusts, the tension within you snaps, you clench around his cock, whimpering his name and clenching the sheets below you.
“gonna fill you up, keep you— hah— nice n’ full all night," he groans, spilling his load into your warm cunt seconds after.
based on how quiet and boneless you were, he assumed you’d fallen asleep. he doesn’t pull out, leaving both his warm load and fat cock stuffed inside you until the morning.
he presses one last kiss to your neck, then passes out soon after, cock beginning to soften inside you.
not realizing you’re talking to your ex-boyfriend!sukuna while drunk !
you were way too drunk and the sigma chi house was spinning.
the music thumped through the walls and your head felt light and fuzzy, but you were smiling anyway, red cup dangling from your fingers as you leaned against the wall for balance. your friends had disappeared ages ago and you didn’t really mind.
that’s when you saw him.
tall. pink hair. tattoos crawling up his arms. he looked really familiar but your drunk brain couldn’t connect the dots. you just knew he was stupidly hot standing there by the stairs with his arms crossed.
you stumbled over with a bright smile.
“hi,” you said, voice soft and sweet. “you have the prettiest eyes. like… scary pretty.”
sukuna looked down at you and his eyebrow raised, but he didn’t move away. the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
“yeah?” he asked, voice low.
you nodded, stepping closer until you were leaning into his space. he smelled so good. warm and a little sweet, just like someone you used to know.
“mhm. my ex had eyes like yours,” you mumbled, resting your forehead against his arm because the room wouldn’t stop tilting. “he was mean looking but really nice to me. i miss him a lot actually.”
sukuna stayed quiet, one big hand coming up to steady you by the waist so you wouldn’t fall.
you kept talking, words spilling out easily now that someone was listening.
“we broke up because i thought he didn’t care enough but… he used to do the sweetest things. like bringing me coffee before class or letting me play with his hair even when he acted all tough about it.” you sighed softly. “i think i messed up. i still wear his hoodie to sleep sometimes.”
his grip on your waist tightened just a little.
“you’re drunk,” he murmured.
“super drunk,” you agreed with a little laugh, tilting your head up to look at him again. “but i mean it. he was the best. made me feel safe even when he was quiet and scary. you kinda look like him, it’s weird.”
sukuna let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh. he guided you through the crowd with a hand on your lower back, taking you upstairs without saying much. you didn’t even question it. his room felt familiar but everything was blurry.
he sat you on the edge of his bed and grabbed a bottle of water, crouching down in front of you so you could drink it. his hand rested gently on your knee the whole time.
“you’re really nice,” you whispered, eyes half closed. “my ex was nice like this too. when nobody else was looking.”
he didn’t answer right away. just brushed some hair out of your face with careful fingers and helped you lie down. when you reached out and grabbed his hand he paused.
“stay?” you asked softly.
sukuna sighed, but it was the soft kind. he sat on the edge of the bed and let you keep holding his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles while you drifted off.
“yeah,” he said quietly, watching you fall asleep in his bed again. “i’m not going anywhere.”
𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ after three weeks of watching sukuna completely unravel over his feelings, you decide it’s time to put him out of his misery by kissing him.
✿ ◞◟) ryomen sukuna 𝓍 gn!reader
𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 fluff, college!au, established friendship, first kiss together, sukuna is even more pathetic, mutual pining, reader has the upper hand, idiots in love, lots of kissing, sukuna is down horrendous for reader, longing.
part one.
three weeks had passed since that tuesday afternoon, and the thing about sukuna was that he was nothing if not stubbornly, infuriatingly predictable in his unpredictability.
he'd gone right back to flirting with you the very next day, like nothing had happened, like you hadn't watched his voice crack and his ears go pink and his entire carefully constructed confidence crumple like wet paper. he'd shown up at your usual coffee spot with that sharp grin and a comment about how you looked cute when you were sleep-deprived, and you'd blinked at him over your latte and said;
"cute enough to kiss?"
and sukuna had promptly choked on his own spit.
it was almost too easy, really, the way sukuna’s brain would short-circuit for a solid three seconds before he managed to pull himself together, the way his tattoos seemed to ripple with tension across his forearms as he scrambled for a response, the way his eyes would go just a little bit wide before he remembered to be annoying about it.
but he always recovered. that was the thing; sukuna would cough and sputter and glare at you like you'd personally offended his ancestors, and then he'd lean in close and say something like, "you wish, sweetheart", with that particular tilt to his mouth that was supposed to make you flustered.
except it didn't work anymore, because you'd seen the cracks in his armor now. you'd seen the way sukuna’s hand shook when he reached for his phone, the way sukuna had looked away first, the way sukuna had said please like it was a word he'd never learned how to use.
and you'd seen the way sukuna had started looking at you when he thought you weren't paying attention.
that was the part that stuck with you, honestly. the way you'd catch sukuna staring at you across the library table or from the other end of his worn-out couch, his expression soft and unguarded in a way he'd never let you see before that tuesday. the way he'd immediately look away the very second your gaze met his, his jaw tightening like he'd been caught doing something really embarrassing.
three weeks of this; sukuna flirting and panicking and flirting again, of you pushing just enough to make him squirm but not enough to break the careful dance you'd both settled into.
three weeks of both of you pretending that something fundamental hadn't shifted between you, that you hadn't accidentally kicked open a door sukuna had been trying to keep closed so freaking bad.
but today, you were done pretending.
today, you were going to kiss your flirty best friend, sukuna, and you were going to do it in a way that left absolutely no room for interpretation.
today, it was a saturday afternoon, the kind that felt lazy and golden and full of possibility, and you'd shown up at sukuna's apartment with a bag of takeout from that thai place he liked so much and the specific kind of determination that came from weeks of watching him flail.
sukuna opened the door looking like he'd just rolled out of bed, which was probably accurate given that it was almost two in the afternoon and he'd texted you at 4am about a dream he'd had where his stats professor turned into a sentient spreadsheet. sukuna's pink hair was messier than usual, sticking up in ways that shouldn't have been attractive but absolutely were, and he was wearing that faded black t-shirt that had a small hole near the collar and made his tattoos stand out even more against his skin.
"you brought food," sukuna said, his voice rough with sleep, and the way his eyes lit up made something warm curl in your chest. "i was about to text you to ask if you wanted to order something. i haven't eaten since, like, yesterday."
"that's disgusting," you said, stepping past him into the apartment. "and also incredibly on-brand for you."
sukuna made a little sound of protest that was mostly performative, shutting the door behind you and following you into the living room like a large, tattooed shadow.
the apartment was the same as always — slightly cluttered, faintly smelling like his cologne and whatever takeout containers he hadn't thrown out yet, with that old leather couch that had seen better decades and the coffee table covered in his notes and empty energy drink cans.
you set the takeout bags on the table and turned to face him, and of course, sukuna was already looking at you with that familiar, lazy amusement, like he was already gearing up to say something annoying.
"you know," sukuna said, folding his arms across his chest in a way that made the muscles in his forearms shift, the dark lines of his tattoos pulling tight over bone and tendon. "you're kind of spoiling me. showing up with food, looking all—" sukuna gestured vaguely at you, his eyes dragging down and then back up in a way that was supposed to be teasing. "—like that. i might start expecting this."
"expecting what?" you asked, and you kept your voice light, casual, like you weren't about to completely upend both of your lives. "me bringing you food because you can't be bothered to feed yourself?"
"no," he said, and his grin sharpened, that particular tilt to his mouth that meant he was about to be a menace. "you showing up. looking good. being all—" he made another vague gesture, his fingers curling in the air like he was trying to grab the right word. "—you know. you."
and there it was, the thing that had changed, that you'd noticed more and more over the past few weeks.
sukuna had stopped simply saying you looked cute or making some comment about your outfit — the pink haired boy was getting softer, clumsier, like he was trying to say something real and didn't quite know how.
you could feel your stupid heart beating a little faster in your chest, but you kept your expression steady, and your posture easy. you'd been planning this for days now, running through it in your head again and again, trying to figure out the right moment and the right way to do it.
"you," you repeated, and you stepped closer to him, just one step, close enough that you could see the way his throat moved when he swallowed. "is that supposed to be a compliment, kuna? because it's kind of vague."
sukuna's eyebrows pulled together, just slightly, the way they always did when you deviated from your usual deflections. his arms were still crossed, but you could see the tension in his broads shoulders now, the way sukuna was holding himself just a little too still.
"it's not vague," he said, and his voice had dropped just a fraction, that roughness from sleep still clinging to the edges of it. "you know what i mean."
"do i?"
you took another step closer, and now you were close enough to see the way his pupils had dilated just slightly, the way his breath had caught in his throat. his tattoos seemed to darken against his skin in the afternoon light filtering through the windows, those familiar lines shifting as his muscles tensed.
"you're doing it again," sukuna said, and there it was, that slight crack in his voice, the one that had been appearing more and more often over the past few weeks. "the thing where you're—where you act like—"
"act like what?"
sukuna's arms uncrossed, and for a moment he looked like he didn't know what to do with them, his hands flexing at his sides before he shoved them into the pockets of his sweatpants. the gesture was almost defensive, and you could see the way his jaw worked as he ground his teeth together.
"act like you're going to—" he stopped, swallowed, tried again. "you know what. you know exactly what you're doing."
"do i?" you asked again, softer this time, and you let your gaze drop to his mouth for just a second before bringing it back to his eyes. "tell me, then. what am i doing?"
sukuna's breath hitched; you heard it, the way it caught in his chest and came out uneven, and you watched the flush start creeping up his neck in that splotchy pattern you'd become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks. it started at his collarbones, just visible above the collar of his t-shirt, and spread upward in patches that stained his skin pink.
"you're—" sukuna started, and then he had to stop to clear his throat, the sound embarrassingly loud in the quiet apartment. "you're trying to make me—i don't know what you're trying to make me do, but you're doing it on purpose."
"maybe," you said, and you let yourself smile, just a small one, the same way you had three weeks ago. "maybe i just wanted to see what would happen."
sukuna's eyes went wide, and you could see the memory of that tuesday flickering across his flushed face — the way you'd leaned in, the way he'd frozen, the way he'd spent the rest of the evening in a daze, not flirting once, just staring at you when he thought you weren't looking.
"that's not—" sukuna started, and then his voice cracked, and the sound of it made something in your chest ache. "you can't just—that's not fair. you can't just do that and then act like nothing happened."
"i'm not acting like nothing happened," you said.
you reached out, slowly enough that sukuna could stop you if he wanted to, and let your fingers brush against his wrist. the skin there was warm, his pulse racing beneath your fingertips, and you felt the way he shuddered at the contact.
"i'm acting like something did happen. something that changed things. something we've both been pretending didn't happen for three weeks."
sukuna's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and absolutely nothing came out except this small, strangled sound that might have been your name or might have been a prayer. his pulse was hammering under your fingers, fast and uneven, and you could see the way his chest was rising and falling too quickly, like he'd just run up several flights of stairs.
"i—" he started, and then he stopped, and his free hand came up to rub at the back of his neck, the movement jerky and nervous. "you're serious. you're actually—this isn't a joke?"
"no," you said, and you stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body, close enough that you could smell his cologne and something underneath it that was simply him. "it's not a joke. it was never a joke."
sukuna's eyes searched yours, and you could see the war going on behind them, the part of him that wanted to deflect and the part of him that wanted to just let go. his jaw worked, his throat moved, and his huge hand came up from his neck to hover near your face, not quite touching, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he made contact.
"you're serious," sukuna said again, and his voice was so quiet, so fragile, nothing like the sharp confidence he usually wore. "you're not—you're not just messing with me?"
"i'm not messing with you," you said, and you lifted your other hand to cup his jaw, your palm warm against the stubble there. his skin was hot, his pulse fluttering under your thumb where it rested near his ear, and you watched his eyes flutter closed for just a second before they opened again. "i'm not. i want to kiss you, kuna. i've wanted to kiss you for a while now."
the sound sukuna made was something between a whine and a groan, and his hand finally made contact with your face, his fingers splaying against your cheek like he was trying to memorize the shape of you. his palm was warm and slightly rough, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, the way they shook against your skin.
"you can't just say that," sukuna said, and his voice was wrecked, completely destroyed, like you'd reached into his chest and pulled out something he'd been trying to hide. "you can't just say that and expect me to—i've been—do you have any idea how long i've—"
"how long you've what?" you asked, and you let your thumb trace along his jaw, feeling the way his muscles jumped under your touch. "how long you've wanted to kiss me?"
sukuna's eyes were bright, almost too bright, and his blush had spread to his cheeks now, staining them pink in a way that made him look younger, softer, nothing like the sharp and untouchable figure he pretended to be.
"yes," he said, and the word came out rough and raw, like it had been scraped out of him. "yes, okay? i've wanted—i've wanted to kiss you for years, and you—you just sat there on my couch like it was nothing, like you didn't—"
"like i didn't know?" you finished, and you leaned in, your forehead almost touching his, close enough that your breath mixed with his. "i knew. i just didn't—i wasn't ready. and then that tuesday, when you—when you looked at me like that, i thought maybe you were ready too."
sukuna's hand on your cheek tightened, just slightly, and his other hand came up to grip your hip, his rough fingers pressing into the fabric of your shirt like he was desperately anchoring himself. sukuna's eyes searched yours, and you could see the fear there, the uncertainty, the desperate hope he was trying and failing to hide.
"i'm scared," he said, and his voice broke on the last word, splintering in a way that made your heart ache. "i'm scared that this is—that i'm going to—"
"you're not going to mess this up," you said, and you leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing his. "you're not. i'm right here. i'm not going anywhere."
and then you closed the distance, and you kissed him.
it was soft at first, just a gentle press of your lips against his, testing, asking. sukuna's mouth was warm and slightly chapped, and you could feel the way his breath caught against your skin, the way his hand on your hip tightened convulsively. the kiss was tentative, almost shyly so, and you could feel the tension in sukuna, the way he was holding himself back like he was afraid of breaking something.
but then you pulled back just enough to breathe, and you looked at him, and the expression on sukuna's face literally made your heart stutter.
sukuna's eyes were wide, his pupils blown so dark you could barely see the red of his irises, and his lips were slightly parted, wet from the earlier kiss. sukuna's blush had spread down his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt, and his breathing was fast and uneven, his chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon.
"was that—" he started, and his voice came out as barely a whisper, cracked and fragile. "did you—"
"yes," you said, and you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face, so warm and so genuine. "that was real. that was me kissing you."
sukuna made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and his hand on your cheek pulled you back in, and this time the kiss was not soft.
this time, it was desperate.
sukuna’s mouth was hungry against yours, like he'd been starving for this for long years and had finally been given permission to eat. his lips moved against yours with a kind of frantic urgency, and his huge hand slid from your cheek into your hair, his long fingers tangling in the strands and pulling you even closer. his other hand was still on your hip, his grip almost bruising, and you could feel the way sukuna’s whole body was trembling against you.
he kissed you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, like he was trying to pour every unspoken word from the past three weeks into the press of his lips.
sukuna’s warm tongue brushed against your lower lip, asking, and you opened for him, and the sound he made when he tasted you was something you'd never forget — a low, desperate sound that vibrated against your mouth and made your knees feel oh so weak.
you kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands finding his shoulders, feeling the tension there, the way his muscles were coiled tight like he was barely holding himself together. his tattoos shifted under your palms as he moved, those familiar dark lines stretching and pulling over warm skin, and you could feel his pulse hammering under your fingertips.
when you finally broke apart, you were both breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together, and sukuna's eyes were squeezed shut like he was trying to process what the actual hell had just happened.
his chest was heaving, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, and his hands were still in your hair and on your hip, gripping you like you might disappear if he let go.
"that," sukuna said, and his voice was hoarse, wrecked, completely destroyed. "that was—"
"good?" you offered, and you were smiling, you couldn't help it, the way his whole body was trembling against yours.
"good," he repeated, and he let out a breath that was almost a laugh, almost a sob, somewhere in between. "good doesn't even—i've been wanting that for—and you just—"
sukuna pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes bright and his face flushed, and there was something raw and open in his expression that he'd never let you see before.
"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for that."
"tell me," you said, and you reached up to brush a strand of pink hair from his forehead, feeling the way he leaned into your touch. "tell me how long."
sukuna's lips curved into a smile that was soft and almost shy, absolutely nothing like the sharp grins he usually wore. his blush was still adorably staining his cheeks, and his ears were pink, and he looked so vulnerable and so open that it made something in your chest ache.
"too long," sukuna said, his voice still rough, still fragile. "longer than i want to admit. years, maybe. i don't—i really didn't know how to tell you, and i didn't want to mess things up, and then that tuesday—"
"that tuesday," you repeated, and you laughed, soft and warm. "you were so pathetic. your voice cracked."
"shut up," sukuna said, but he was laughing too, his body shaking against yours. "i was caught off guard. you never—you never do that."
"maybe i should do it more often," you said, and you leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, feeling the way he melted into you. "maybe i should kiss you more often."
sukuna's breath hitched, and his hand in your hair tightened, and he turned his head to catch your mouth with his, this kiss slower than the last, deeper, like he was trying to savor it. his lips moved against yours with a kind of tenderness that made your heart swell, and his tongue was tracing your lower lip gently before pulling back.
"yeah," he said against your mouth, his voice barely more than a whisper. "yeah, you should. you really, really should."
and you did.
you kissed sukuna until the takeout got cold, kissed him until the afternoon light shifted into evening, kissed him until he was a trembling, blushing mess in his own living room, his tattoos warm and familiar under your hands and his heart racing against your chest.
sukuna was still pathetic, still whining and blushing and falling apart every time you touched him, and you loved it.
you loved him, you realized, and you'd probably loved him for a little while now, even before that tuesday, even before everything changed.
and from the way sukuna was looking at you, his eyes bright and his face flushed and his mouth curved into that soft, shy smile — he loved you too.
"so," he said finally, his voice still hoarse, his hand still tangled in your hair. "does this mean you're my—like, you're—"
"yes," you said, and you kissed the corner of sukuna’s mouth again, just because you could. "i'm your something. we can figure out the labels later."
sukuna made a sound that was almost a whine, and he pulled you closer to him, burying his blushing face deep in your neck and mumbling something you couldn't quite hear but you were pretty sure was 'finally'.
and you laughed, warm and happy, and held him, and the evening light filtered through his windows and painted the room in shades of gold and pink.
three weeks of pretending had led to this, and it had been more than worth it.
𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ when you finally decide to flirt back after years of brushing off sukuna’s teasing, he quickly discovers he can’t handle a taste of his own medicine.
✿ ◞◟) ryomen sukuna 𝓍 gn!reader
𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 fluff, college!au, established friendship, uno reverse card flirting, sukuna is really pathetic, lovestruck behavior, yearning hidden under friendship (?), sukuna is blushing.
part two.
the afternoon light coming through sukuna's apartment windows was that tired golden color, the kind that made everything look a little too soft and a little too warm for a tuesday that felt like a thursday.
you were sprawled on the pink haired boy’s worn-out leather couch with your laptop balanced on your thighs, trying to finish a reading assignment that had no business being this dense, while sukuna sat on the floor across from you with his back against the coffee table, his phone in one hand and a half-empty energy drink in the other.
sukuna's tattoos stretched across his forearms every time he moved to scroll through whatever mindless content he seemed to be invested in, those familiar dark lines shifting over muscle and bone like they'd always been there, like they were just another part of him you'd stopped really noticing years ago. the four-eyes motif on his biceps caught the light when sukuna leaned forward to set his drink down, and you watched him crack his neck in that lazy way he always did when he was bored, the movement causing his jaw to flex once before he settled back against the table leg.
"you're staring," sukuna said without looking up from his phone, and there it was — that particular tilt to his mouth, the one that meant he was about to make things annoying on purpose. "didn't know my forearms were that interesting, sweetheart. could've just asked for a closer look."
you didn't even blink.
"your forearms are fine, kuna. i was actually staring at the window behind you because there's a really weird-looking bird right on the fire escape."
sukuna finally looked up, one dark eyebrow raised, and he turned his head toward the window just to check. when he saw nothing there, his gaze slid back to you with that familiar mixture of amusement and mild offense.
"you're lying."
"oh, am i?" you clicked back to your reading assignment, highlighting a sentence you'd already highlighted twice. "bird must've flown away. tragic timing, really."
sukuna laughed once, short and sharp, and went back to his phone, but you knew damn well he wasn't done; sukuna was never done when he was bored and you were the only person in the room. it was like a game for him, or maybe like a compulsion — throwing out these little flirtatious comments just to see if he could get a reaction, any reaction, even though he'd known you for long enough to understand that you'd stopped reacting to that particular brand of nonsense somewhere around year two of your friendship.
"you know," he said after a moment, dragging the words out like he was savoring them. "most people would at least pretend to be flattered. but you just sit there like a brick wall with a laptop. it's kind of insulting, honestly."
"i'll try to care about your feelings more," you said flatly, not looking up. "let me just find that emotion real quick."
sukuna kicked at your foot with his own, just a light tap of his sneaker against your socked heel.
"you're the worst."
"you're the one who keeps flirting with a brick wall. that sounds like a you problem."
sukuna grinned at that, wide and sharp and entirely unbothered, because this was simply how things worked between the two of you; he'd flirt, you'd deflect, he'd laugh, and then five minutes later he'd ask if you wanted to order food or complain about his stats professor or show you some ridiculous video he found at two in the morning.
it was comfortable, it was routine, and it meant exactly nothing, and you both knew it.
but today, something about the light and the quiet and the way sukuna was sitting there looking entirely too pleased with himself made you feel like switching things up.
just a little.
just to see what would happen.
you set your laptop aside slowly, making a show of closing the screen and placing it on the cushion next to you, and then you turned your body toward him.
sukuna was already watching you with that lazy curiosity he always got when you deviated from your usual patterns, his phone completely forgotten in his hand, and you let your gaze drag over him in a way you never actually did — leisurely and meticulous, like you were taking your time with something you'd been saving for later.
his eyebrows pulled together just slightly. "what?"
"nothing," you said, and you let your voice drop just enough to change the texture of it, to make it softer and slower than your usual flat delivery. "just looking."
you watched the confusion flicker across sukuna's face, quick and genuine, because this wasn't how the script went;
you weren't supposed to look at him like that. you weren't supposed to sound like that. and you sure as hell weren't supposed to slide off the couch to sit on the floor next to him, close enough that your shoulder almost brushed his, close enough that you could smell whatever cheap cologne he'd grabbed off his dresser this morning.
sukuna's hand tightened around his phone.
"okay. you're being weird."
"am i?" you echoed your earlier words back at him, tilting your head just slightly, and you let your fingers rest on the floor between you — not touching him, not yet, but close enough that the proximity felt intentional. "i thought this was what you wanted, kuna. you're always saying all that stuff. figured i'd finally give you a response."
sukuna's throat moved as he swallowed, and you could see the moment his brain started scrambling to catch up with what was happening. the confidence he normally wore like armor seemed to flicker, just for a second, and his gaze dropped to your hand on the floor before snapping back to your face.
"that's—" he started, and then stopped, and you'd never seen sukuna stumble over a word in your entire friendship. "i mean, yeah, but—you don't actually—"
"don't actually what?"
you leaned in just a little, and you watched the tips of sukuna's ears go pink. his ears, of all things. the same sukuna who could make a waiter uncomfortable by accident just by existing was sitting here with pink ears because you'd leaned about four inches closer to him.
"don't actually find you attractive? because i never said that."
sukuna's mouth opened, then closed, and then opened again, and absolutely nothing came out except this small, strangled sound that might have been the beginning of a laugh or the end of his dignity.
you could feel the heat coming off his arm where it was braced on the coffee table, you could see the way his chest had started rising and falling just a little faster than before. his tattoos seemed to move with every small shift of his muscles, the dark lines pulling and relaxing as he failed spectacularly to figure out what the hell to do with his hands.
"you're messing with me," sukuna said finally, and his voice literally cracked on the last word.
ryomen sukuna's voice cracked like he was fourteen years old and talking to his first crush, and you had to physically bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too obviously.
"am i?" you asked again, softer this time, and you let your finger trace a small, idle pattern on the floor between you; not toward him, not away from him — just there, like you were thinking about it. "i don't know. maybe i just got tired of you being the only one who gets to have fun."
sukuna's blush was spreading now, crawling down his neck in splotchy patches that disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt, and he was gripping his phone like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
you could see his pulse beating in his throat, quick and uneven, and his eyes kept darting between your face and the small space between your bodies like he was trying to calculate something he didn't have the formula for.
"this isn't—" sukuna started, and then he had to stop to clear his throat, and the sound was embarrassingly loud in the quiet apartment. "this isn't funny."
"i'm not laughing."
"you're definitely laughing on the inside. i can tell. your eye is doing that thing."
you blinked innocently. "what thing?"
"the thing where you're being an asshole and enjoying it."
but sukuna's voice was way too high to land the way he wanted it to, too breathy to sound like anything other than a man who was rapidly losing control of a situation he'd assumed he'd always be in charge of. his leg was bouncing now, that restless energy he got when he was nervous translating into small, jerky movements that he probably didn't even realize he was making.
you let the silence stretch, you let him sit in the discomfort of not knowing what came next, and you watched as he absolutely failed to fill it with one of his usual easy quips.
sukuna's brain was working overtime behind his eyes, you could easily tell — trying to figure out if you were serious, if this was a joke, if he was supposed to laugh it off or lean into it or run in the opposite direction.
finally, he did the last thing you expected.
he looked away.
sukuna actually looked away, his jaw tightening as he turned his face toward the window, and you could see the way his hand shook just slightly when he reached up to rub at the back of his neck. the movement made his sleeve ride up, exposing more of those dark lines, and you noticed the way his fingers trembled against his own skin.
"you're doing this on purpose," he muttered, and his voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear it. "you're trying to—i don't know what you're trying to do, but you're doing it on purpose."
"maybe," you said, and you let yourself smile then, just a small one, because he looked so genuinely thrown off that it was actually kind of endearing underneath all the hilarity. "maybe i just wanted to see what would happen."
sukuna turned back to look at you, and his eyes were wide in a way you'd never seen before — less of the sharp, amused glint he usually carried and more of something raw and uncertain, like a door you'd accidentally nudged open that he'd been keeping firmly closed. his blush had settled into something deeper now, staining his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, and his lips were parted just slightly like he was still trying to figure out how to breathe normally.
"well," he said, and his voice cracked again, softer this time, almost fragile. "are you happy? because i'm—i'm not—this is—"
sukuna gave up on words entirely and just gestured vaguely at himself, at his flushed face and his bouncing leg and his white-knuckled grip on his phone, and the gesture said everything sukuna's his voice couldn't.
you laughed then, not meanly, just a warm exhale of a sound, and you bumped your shoulder against his gently.
"yeah," you said, your voice back to normal now, dropping the flirtatious edge entirely. "i'm pretty happy, actually."
sukuna stared at you for a long moment, his chest still rising and falling too quickly, and then he dropped his head back against the coffee table and made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a whine.
"i hate you," he said to the ceiling. "i genuinely hate you. you're the worst person i've ever met."
"you're blushing."
"shut up, i'm not blushing. my face is just warm. from the—it's warm in here."
"it's twenty-one degrees in here."
"shut up."
sukuna didn't move his head from the coffee table, but his large hand found your knee — just a brief, clumsy tap before retreating, like he'd meant to do something else and changed his mind at the last second. his fingers were warm through the fabric of your jeans, and you could still feel the slight tremor in them even after he pulled away.
you sat there together in the golden afternoon light, the silence softer now than it had been before, and you watched as sukuna slowly, painfully tried to collect himself.
his ears were still pink, his breathing was still uneven, and every few seconds, his gaze would slide toward you and then snap away again, like looking at you for too long might somehow make things worse.
it was, without a single question, the most pathetic you had ever seen him.
"sooo," you said after a while, keeping your voice light and easy. "you want to order that thai place, or are you too busy being embarrassed to eat?"
sukuna lifted his head just enough to glare at you, but the effect was ruined by the fact that he still looked like he'd just run a marathon in a sauna.
"i'm not embarrassed."
"okay."
"i'm not. i just wasn't expecting—" sukuna stopped, swallowed, tried again. "you don't just—you never—"
"never what?"
he held your gaze for a long, charged moment, and something in his expression flickered — some thought you couldn't quite read, some emotion the pink haired boy shoved back down before it could fully surface. then he looked away once again, reaching for his abandoned energy drink like it might offer him some kind of salvation.
"nothing," he said quietly. "forget it. thai sounds fine."
sukuna didn't flirt with you for the rest of the evening.
not once.
and if you caught him staring at you when he thought you weren't looking, his expression soft and confused and a little bit scared like he'd just discovered something he didn't know how to name — well, you didn't mention that either.
✮⋆˙. (▀▀̮▀) The strongest teaches you how to squirt . . .
You wanted to learn how to squirt.
Like, you really wanted to learn.
Being all over Twitter didn't help you either, as there's always somebody asking, oh, “ how do you squirt?” Or, “guys, I just learned how to squirt for the first time and I've never felt so much better.” And you just can't help but get FOMO.
Okay yeah sure, every time Gojo fucks you really good, it feels amazing, but something's missing.
He's already done everything in the book with you, with a few concepts here and there untouched, but you always end up satisfied, so you never dwelled on it.
You just really, really wanted to try feeling something new.
You already tried to do it yourself countless times, but your fingers could never reach the spots that he does, especially since his are significantly longer than yours.
So when he's currently fucking you and training your pussy to be more sensitive, it seems you finally get the hang of it.
“Mngh— fuck toru that…feels s’good..”
Gojo's long fingers curl deep inside your soaked pussy, his thumb pressing and pushing hard against your swollen clit with constant pressure.
He watched your face intently, bright blue eyes focusing on your pretty face as your walls flutter around his digits.
"Thaaat's it, baby," he murmurs, voice low and rough against your ear.
"You said you wanted to learn, yeah?"
His pace kept quickening as both fingers pumped into you steady, scissoring slightly on each thrust to stretch you open while his palm slaps wetly against your mound.
Your hips buck up off the bed, chasing the overwhelming sensation slowly building low in your belly.
Every stroke drags against that sensitive spot inside you, sending heatwaves through your body.
Gojo moves down, sucking one of your nipples right into his mouth. He bites down just hard enough to make you whine out, before soothing the sting with his tongue.
His free hand pins your thigh wider, keeping you spread for him as he works through your pussy harder.
Your breath comes out in short gasps when the pressure inside you grows almost unbearable, feeling like a tight coil getting tighter and tighter before releasing itself.
Your pussy clenches eagerly around his fingers as finally, a sudden rush of clear liquid sprays out all around them, soaking his hand and his wrist, along with the sheets beneath you in a hot, messy gush.
Gojo smiles and groans at the sight, fingering you through it with quick movements, so that the squirt keeps coming in short bursts.
"Fuuck, look at that," he growls, eyes locked on the way your cunt pulses and sprays. "So pretty when you let loose like that."
Your thighs tremble, clit becoming achingly sensitive.
You gripped the sheets and looked down at the mess, “hah…oh my god…what a mess..”
Another wave hits as he keeps rubbing your clit in tight circles, drawing out every last tremor and whine until you're left twitching, the new bedsheets already soiled under you.
He finally slows his hand down, but doesn't pull out, carefully stroking your inner walls as the aftershocks roll through you.
"Atta girl," he praises, voice coated with satisfaction.
i do kind of wish it was legal to hire people for sex because it would be cool to he like. hey can someone help me through my intense fear of sex without judgmentj
ᝰ.ᐟ nanami with a girlfriend who has sensitive thighs ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni
bf!nanami is a man of physical habit, when you two are winding down on the couch after his long shift—his heavy, warm hand naturally finds a home on your thigh. the first time it happens, he’s just reading the paper, but he feels the immediate, rigid tension in your muscles.
he casually glances over, assuming you’re just caught off guard or feeling a bit shy. "are you cold?" he asks, his deep voice slicing through the quiet room. when you quickly shake your head, he simply pats your knee and shrugs it off, returning to his reading, though his observant mind notes the slight tremor in your frame.
bf!nanami who starts getting genuinely suspicious after the third or fourth time. it doesn't matter if his touch is a passive weight or a gentle, absentminded caress through your sweatpants—your breath hitches every single time. he notices the way your toes curl, the subtle shiver that runs up your spine, and the way you try to casually shift away from his reach.
nanami is nothing if not analytical; he knows compliance versus involuntary reaction, and you are definitely hiding something. he begins to purposely linger his touch, tracing the seam of your pants just to watch your eyelashes flutter and your lips part in a silent gasp.
bf!nanami decides to test his hypothesis on a rainy saturday afternoon. you're both cuddled up, your guard completely down as you watch a movie. without a word or a shift in his stoic expression, his large hand slides up your inner thigh and delivers a sudden, firm squeeze.
bf!nanami watches you gasp, a high, completely involuntary sound escaping your throat—a sharp, needy little squeak that cuts off the moment you realize what you've done. "oh? and what exactly was that noise for?" your hands fly to grip his wrist, trying to pull his hand away, but he doesn't let go.
instead, a slow, incredibly rare, and distinctly smug smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. he looks down at you through his glasses, thoroughly amused by your bright red face. "i don't recall the movie being quite that exciting," he drawls, his fingers sinking deeper into the soft flesh.
bf!nanami who is a little bit mean about it, but in the most intoxicating way possible. he deliberately applies just a fraction more pressure, kneading the sensitive muscle with his broad palm and watching you squirm helplessly against him. "i didn't realize a simple touch could reduce you to this," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, thick with a gravelly warmth that tells you he finds this incredibly hot.
he teases you relentlessly, leaning down so his lips brush your burning ear. "look at me. tell me why you're trembling so much just from my hand. if you don't answer, i'll just have to keep squeezing until you do." he refuses to let you look away until you confess just how sensitive your thighs actually are.
bf!nanami who likes to abuse this newfound knowledge at every single opportunity, especially when he wants to fluster you in public. if you're out at a quiet restaurant, his hand will slide under the tablecloth, his fingers mapping out the soft skin of your thighs.
he loves watching you try to maintain a straight face while ordering food, your fingers white-knuckling the menu because he's lightly scratching the apex of your thigh. when you catch his eye, pleading with him silently, he just takes a calm sip of his wine and whispers, "focus on the waiter, sweetheart. tell him what you want to eat."
bf!nanami turns into an absolute menace behind closed doors. during sex, your thighs become his absolute favorite target. he likes to pin your legs wide apart, his heavy palms bruising your hips before sliding down to grip your thighs with enough force to leave faint, temporary marks.
he loves to deeply knead the ultra-sensitive skin right where your leg meets your hip, watching your back arch off the bed as you let out a ragged sob. "look at how flushed you get here," he grunts, his thumb pressing firmly into the sweet spot, relishing the way your thighs clamp around his waist in a desperate bid for relief.
bf!nanami who pairs his heavy-handed groping with sensory overload. while he’s driving himself into you, he’ll lean down to bite and press open-mouthed kisses against your inner thighs, deliberately targeting the spots that make your hips stutter-step and bring a sob to your throat.
he loves the contrast of his rough, calloused hands soothing over the ultra-sensitive skin, murmuring praises against your neck while ensuring you can't think about anything else but his touch.
he'll deliberately slow his pace just to focus entirely on your thighs, sinking his teeth into the soft skin until you're completely undone. "good girl," he rumbles against your skin, "let me hear you make that sound again."
yall be like "kakashi is suicidal" well his favourite fanfic author fucking died and discontinued the porn series he had been following for 20 years you would be suicidal too if that happened to you
♡ ⸝⸝ post nut clarity w satoru 🤫 ! ❤︎₊ ⊹
cw: suggestive ⸝⸝ fluff
“holy shit.”
satoru let his head fall against the pillow with a soft thud, closing his eyes as he exhaled. his white hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his chest heaved with each breath.
“i know,” you murmured. you brought your hand to your face and sighed softly.
“that was… i don’t even have words, i—” he trailed off, shaking his head.
then, without warning:
“i think i wanna marry you.”
suddenly, you were wide awake.
you blinked at him. "what?"
the words barely processed in your head. your mind still felt foggy from your orgasm, so the last thing you expected to hear was this.
“marry me,” he repeated, rolling onto his side to face you. a lazy grin tugged at his lips. “so we can do that a hundred more times.”
you stared into his eyes, searching for any sign that this was some sort of sick joke.
“you don’t mean that.” you chuckled awkwardly, averting your gaze.
“i do.” he said firmly. “this is not me officially asking but…" his voice softened "i just had to say it.”
without a word, you rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. your heart was racing as his confession sunk in. marriage? he wanted to get married? the thought alone made your stomach twist in knots.
after a beat, he whispered, “well...what do you say?” his voice quivered and you realized—satoru was scared.
you felt kind of bad for him. poor guy probably didn't even realize what he'd let it slip until it was too late. even though the idea of marriage frightened you a little, you turned to face him, a quiet smile breaking through.
tw: age gap (reader is early 20s, toji is early 40s)
mdni! 🔞
“such a good girl, baby. fuck..” toji murmured, his hands on your hips as you straddled his waist. “way too good for an old man like me…”
you’re currently naked in your boyfriends lap, your arms loosely wrapped around his neck as you took his length inside of you.
he’s so big, pulsing and making your walls burn in the best way possible. you’re whining, clenching tight around his dick as you slide up and sink back down.
he’s leaning back against the headboard, looking up at you with half lidded, lazy eyes.
you’re so close to him that you can see the grey hair in his stubble that he tries so hard to keep out of your sight. he doesn’t want you to see him aging like this while you stay young and lively and fun.
you’re growing more and more exhausted, but his big, calloused hands on your hips are helping to guide you up and down.
“mngh… t-toji.. m’tired.” you whine, your movements slowing. you both were on the cusp of your orgasms, but your thighs were aching and burning, and every time he pushed in fully, it practically knocked the wind out of you.
“i know, sweetheart.” he whispered lowly, his voice rough. one of his hands snaked up your spine, cradling the back of your head and pulling you down into a deep kiss. “keep going f’me. i know you can.” he whispered against your lips.
his hand that had been on your hip moved down to your ass, smacking it gently before squeezing at the soft flesh.
you yelped from the mixture of pain and pleasure, the feeling giving you enough energy to move your hips again with his guidance.
“too much…” you whine, but you continue to move at a steady pace, your head dropping to rest in his neck. the stubble on his jaw scratched against your temple as you moved.
“just like that baby.. you’re doing so good. just a little more.” he muttered, his voice becoming rougher as his orgasm grew closer.
you felt a warmth tingling in your lower stomach, making your toes curl. toji could practically sense that, his fingers moving down to slowly, yet firmly, play with your clit, making you jolt.
“m’gonna cum.. mmf- toji, k-keep doing that…” you whimpered, rocking your hips faster, pulling suppressed groans from his lips.
“cum for me, baby. you worked so hard my sweet girl.” his free hand gently held the back of your head, still buried in his neck.
his words tipped you over, and you came with a loud cry, squeezing impossibly tight around him.
he followed right after you (always making sure you finish first, of course), his sticky release filling you up.
the two of you just sat there for a few minutes, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your bare back, whispering to you about how good you were while you hid your face in his neck.
even though your boyfriend was getting older, and his stamina might not be what it used to be, all he could do was hope that you wouldn’t grow tired of him.
he knows someone like you, young, sweet, and gorgeous, could have anyone you’d like. he didn’t deserve you, and sometimes he questioned why you even loved him.
but moments like this, when he was holding you and making you feel good, toji fushiguro, a man who never felt deserving of anything, really felt like he could just be with someone for once.
||a/n: this got kinda sad at the end soz lol
anyway i’m replaying silent hill 2 rn and i just luv james so much poor baby
pixelskylines
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
kianamaiart
