[beaniesayshi]

THE LAMB

Sukuna is reincarnated into the modern world, only to realize that being a villain is actually kind of a bore. Now a teacher at Jujutsu High by pure technicality, he’s decided being a “good guy” is way more entertaining, mostly because it still lets him do whatever he wants while everyone thanks him for it. Unfortunately for you, that also means you get assigned to him as a specialist, since your technique is one of the very few things that can smooth out the jagged, overwhelming nature of his cursed energy after he uses it. The problem is… you’re absolutely terrified of him. Every second in the same room feels like your body is trying to shut down, and the idea of having to touch him to do your job makes it even worse. Sukuna, on the other hand, finds that fear hilarious and treats you like the funniest toy he’s ever been gifted.

pairing: sorcerer sukuna x sorcerer f!reader

content: mdni, slow burn, kinda enemies to lovers, objectification, toxic dynamics, power imbalance, manipulation, coercion, possessive sukuna, violence, murder, blood, gore, dubious consent vibes, true form sukuna, yuji's not his vessel (...and probably smut)

sukuna is reincarnated into jin’s twin (so yes, he’s technically yuji’s uncle), can freely switch between his human and true form, and is, in fact, a massive asshole (minor changes to how cursed energy works)

main masterlist ◦ ao3 ◦ banner by @graphic0rn

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8 chapter 9 chapter 10 ...

taglist open!

[plumkissed]

sukuna’s clingy (he prefers the term “possessive”) even as he sleeps

i feel like sukuna sleeps holding you like you’re a hostage that’s going to wake up in the middle of the night and run away.

he’s the big spoon of course and he’s molded around your body like a puzzle piece. chest pressed seamlessly to your backside, one arm hooked around your neck in a loving? soft chokehold, the other curled over your waist, palm splayed over the natural plush of your tummy. your thighs up in fetal position between his, legs intertwined, feet touching, literally the whole nine yards. entirely unaware or uncaring of his size, but definitely aware of yours. hunched over you like a dragon protecting its glimmering mountain of gold and treasure.

and it’s that kind of embrace that seems uncomfortable or suffocating from the outside-looking-in, but it’s actually the best sleep you’ve gotten in years and the only way you can sleep now. it’s the kind that has you snoring when you never snore. the kind that has you waking up looking like a skrunkly cat after a good nap.

his steady heartbeat thrumming against your back and counting sheep for you, your chin tucked in his inner elbow as you drool all over it, head effortlessly perched at just the right angle on his meaty bicep instead of that flat and lifeless pillow that gives you a crick in your neck. your body grounded with the comforting weight of his heavy arm strewn over it, the gentle heat of his thumb stroking on your lower abdomen, the pressure you usually carry in your lower back gone because your legs are elevated due to the beefy mass that’s under them. it’s like he’s your custom made body pillow.

and if you need to pee in the middle the night you’ll have to smack his arm to get him to unfurl his tired limbs with a grunt because he sleeps like he’s dead. he’ll follow you there even when you tell him to stay in bed, heavy feet dragging behind you across the cool vinyl, one sock missing and his loose sleep pants hanging off his hips.

“hurry up, m’cold.” he’ll rub his eyes and grumble groggily as if you forced him to come with you.

he’s just standing in the dark bathroom with his arms crossed, eyes drifting back to a close while he sways like he’s on a ship. then he’s glaring at the doorframe with the most adorable, sleepy scowl on his face after he stumbles into it on accident, like someone put it there just to spite him. that is until he deems it worthy enough to lean on, a loud yawn blooming from the drowsy, messy-haired giant who’s patiently waiting to crawl back into bed with you.

.

.

.

© plumkissed 2026

[sukusupport]

𓆩✧𓆪Heian!Sukuna x forestdeity!reader; Sukuna being a little shit when you just wanna go to sleep drabble; no CW, fluff

Sukuna had anger issues, he'd always been self-aware enough to recognize it. It could be explosive at times, and as in control as he tried to appear it was always simmering beneath the surface.

Something fundamentally wrong, twisted in his soul.

He never claimed to be a good person, he knew he was far far from it. Some might even say he was evil, a monster. Including you.

He watches you sleep a bit too soundly, using his upper right arm as a pillow. Dead to the world, lips parted— he could feel warm puffs of air brush his skin with every breath you took. The audacity, he couldn’t fathom it. The sheer gall of this tiny woman to be able to sleep so peacefully. (Average sized but to him? tiny)

His brow twitches with annoyance as he continues to watch his little forest deity nap on him. His arm was numb, he wanted to move.

A gentleman would either stay as he was or slide his arm free, careful not to disturb you. Sukuna?

He raises his other hand and flicks your forehead, hard. Letting out a loud thwack that jolts you awake.

“Ow!!” Your hands fly to your forehead, eyes involuntarily tearing up at the sharp sting as you glare, “what in the Hells Sukuna!”

“My arm was growing numb woman” he huffs, tugging his arm free and stretching it above his head as he stares down at you, unamused. One would think he was the one violently flicked awake given the look on his face.

“Could’ve just nudged me awake or something. Ow..” you grumbled, rubbing your forehead in soft circles with your fingertips as you shuffle away from him to lay back on the bed, this time with a sizeable gap.

“I did technically nudge you." To the untrained ear he sounded almost bored, but you picked up on the underlying amusement in his tone as he watched you roll over, “where are you going?”

You throw him a dirty look over your shoulder as you settle in once again, this time choosing to rest your head on a fluffy pillow “back to sleep”

His expression hardens as he watches you, piercing red eyes narrowing in offence as it wasn't his own fault, “who said you could move away from me brat”

It takes a second for his words to register. But when they do you turn on your side to face him, blinking at the sheer audacity of his question. How dare he sound offended after HE whacked you!

“I do not appreciate being woken up so violently by a rude ruffian!” You spat before rolling over to show him your back once more, still rubbing your sore forehead, a small red mark blooming on it. You could heal it immediately, it wouldn't even take a second to use your powers to do so but you rather milk this situation.

“Tch” you hear Sukuna click his tongue, followed by faint rustling as he reaches out and immediately grabs your waist with his lower arms to drag you back against his chest. His large palms grip your waist before he rolls over so you're now resting on his left arm this time.

“Let go! I don’t wanna be flicked again” you snap, trying to wiggle free only for all four of his arms to tighten around you in a stifling grip.

“No”

That’s all the brute offers, no excuses or reason, no promise not to do it again.

You struggle and grumble, trying for a moment longer before going limp in his arms with a sigh of defeat. You knew better than to waste energy in a futile struggle. Sukuna loosens his grip ever so slightly, enough for you to breathe comfortably but not enough for an escape.

He burrows his face against your hair, warm breath fanning your scalp as he huffs again, “you were sleeping too peacefully” he murmurs his twisted excuse behind his prior actions.

You feel your eye twitch in growing annoyance, “you’re so infuriating, what does that even mean!” You struggle again in his grasp only for his grip to tighten once again until you stopped.

With an exaggerated sigh of defeat you settle down, head resting on his bicep. His grip loosens further, one hand gently stroking your waist as if urging you to relax. You hated that it worked, the slow rhythm of his calloused fingertips dragging up and down you side, "go back to sleep".

As annoyed as you were by his antics, it was warm in his embrace. It was hard to stay awake with your head resting on your favourite pillow once again.

Sukuna’s soul was definitely twisted but it didn’t always show in destructive ways. Sometimes it was in the way he gained pleasure in ragebating his poor wife who just wanted a good nights rest.

a/n: I have a proper story for forest deity reader, it's kinda all over the place but I plan to make it a series soon. I need to write more regularly instead of in random bursts when I'm trying to go to sleep

divider by @/cursed-carmine

[tonycries]

Cola

Synopsis. Hot DlLFs.

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

Content. MDNI, fem!reader, DlLFS (and MlLFS too!), age gaps (reader and JJK men are ALWAYS aduIts), arranged marriages (Toji), cIan Ieader!Toji, sIight exhíbitíonism, sIight bóndage (Nanami), mentions of kids, bréeding, manhandIing, matíng presses, HEADLOCKS, p sIapping, p talking, spítting, fíngering, rings and píercings, rockstar!Geto, headIines, use of ‘mómmy’ (Ino), miIking, overstím, súgar dáddies, running from it, oIder men, síxty-níne, talking you through it, pressing down, making it fit, he’s BIG, counting inches, overworked Higuruma, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, pIot, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. MWAHAHAH.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - The Arrangement.

“O-oh, sh—”

“Shhhhh.” Toji’s voice is dangerous. Low. His chin was hooked into the crook of your neck - and you’re getting pushed back down, down, dooooown his- 

“Oh my…” Your mouth waters, weak arm reaching out to grasp the edge of the futon.

But Toji’s guiding it to his shaggy salt-and-pepper hair. Making you tug. Making you wrench.

His other palm - calloused after what you assume to be countless years of training his Heavenly Restriction - comes up to plaster over your mouth. “Unless ya want them to hear.” He mutters, referring to the council of elders seated behind the sliding doors. 

You knew it was part of the ceremony: to make sure that you and the older clan leader…affirmed your new union.

An arranged marriage, of course. The marriage of the century in jujutsu society’s highest circles. 

But even after a lavish wedding, and an even more lavish title suited to you, you still couldn’t believe that you were married to Zenin Toji.

Perhaps expected considering that the two of you had met just a few weeks ago; you’d announced to your council that you were ready for marriage. And they’d then presented you with a list of all the potential candidates for husband—every eligible bachelor from the Kamo clan to the rather obscure Fujiwara clan. The list had gone on and on with their names and ages.

And at the very end you’d spotted—

Zenin Toji—Age: 38 (once divorced). 

As soon as the elders had noticed you focusing on that one name, they’d dismissed you with a nervous chuckle. “Oh, that’s just Toji. Ignore him, he’s just there out of obligation-”

“But why would I ignore him?”And that had effectively shut them up.

Although what you really wanted were more answers.

Toji.

Toji.

Most of the other candidates ranged across their twenties, and they were names you’d heard of in mere passing during those stuffy clan functions. Toji, however, was beyond that age range and once divorced—and you’d heard of him almost too well. You knew him without ever knowing him.

You’d heard of the newly-appointed Zenin clan leader as he fought against every single elder to claim his rightful title as head - the first one since…ever without a speck of cursed energy.

You’d heard of the terror of the Zenin clan - or so they whispered - who could bring down battalions with a single swipe of his cursed weapons. He didn’t need cursed energy—and what they feared above all was the power of raw humanity underneath it.

But…you’d also heard of the merciful man. The first Zenin clan leader to grant his wife a divorce when she wished for it, thus leaving him printed once more upon a paper listing jujutsu society’s bachelors. 

Leaving him impressioned in your mind.

Zenin Toji was an enigma you wanted to understand.

And you laughed at the expressions upon your elders’ faces as you announced that the sole candidate you were interested in was none other than the notorious Toji. You could count on one hand how many had readily agreed to your union with the older man—and that would be exactly zero fingers. 

However, the meeting had proceeded as tradition dictated. Your council of elders reached out to the uptight council of the Zenins - and they’d reached out to re-confirm thrice that the man you were really looking for was Toji. Wasn’t he much older? Wasn’t he fearsome? Wasn’t he difficult to understand?

You waved off their worries and met him over a fragrant tea ceremony. 

To be quite honest; there wasn’t much talking between the two of you - although the Zenin elders kept up a constant stream of chatter with the elders of your own family. Meanwhile you simply looked at Toji over the rim of your ceramic cup—and—watched—

And he met your gaze just as intensely.

By the end of the tea ceremony, you nudged your elders to proclaim your approval for a union.

And Toji nodded his own approval.

The wedding preparations were accomplished in a week. It was a wedding for the history books - you heard that your council of elders were pushing to get it written in already - and it ended off with a lavish banquet that lasted into the long, long hours of the night. 

As sunlight started seeping into the horizon, you and Toji got up from your seats at the head of the table. And you made your way to the master bedroom—where rows upon rows of elders sat outside in preparation for the consummation.

They were here to hear you-

“Fuck.” You can’t stop the sudden whimper that escapes you at the feeling of Toji hiking up one of his muscular thighs. He still had his wedding robes on - dishevelled upon his frame, the graze of expensive Zenin cotton n’ silk makes you shiver—

And as soon as you do, you feel one of his large palms settle at the base of your spine.

Toji keeps you pinned down - deliciously helpless - once he reaches that upright leg forwards and rests his heel atop your scalp. Stepping on your sweaty crown. Keeping you pinned in one place as he fucks you- with a sheer audacity that makes your jaw drop.

“Careful.” Toji’s low tone trundles out. You’re bent into such a shape that it makes his cock thicker- stretchin’ out your snug channel with a sultry squeeeelch! “Keep your mouth open like that and you’ll catch flies.”

Leaning down as far as he could, he then spits.

“Or you’ll catch me.”

A few more vicious strokes that leave you gaping.

A few more changing angles- Toji was the type to not just straightly thrust. He was stirring his cock ‘round in somewhat circular motions of his hips as he pummeled inside, managing to hit eeeeevery single nerve-ended spot inside you. “And- hah, and we wouldn’t wanna explain that to those old toads, heh?” Asking you. And then…not you. “Isn’t that right, fuckers?”

There’s restless murmuring from outside. 

“W-well, maybe if you—fuuuuuck.” Just as soon as you’re mid-sentence - as though Toji had been waiting for this exact moment - he reaches forwards and slams! his ruddied tip into you hard enough that you can feel him in your damn throat. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-” 

“Loud.” Scoffing. “Though I bet they already know what’s happening- hah.”

You were in utter shambles. 

Toji’s cock was sensually curved towards the right - the perfect angle to spot those areas where you were most sensitive and stimulate them until you were crying. “Y-you’re so shameless—!”

With a roll of his forest-green eyes, the clan leader crouches his body further forwards and accelerates his pace. His heel pressing down even harder.

With this position he had you in, Toji couldn’t keep his palm glued to your drivelling maw anymore. And he was letting it aaaaaall out—the more n’ more pretty moans that were leaving you, the more he’s speeding up his hips. Purposefully thumping his blushin’ red tip down your most precious spots. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, he’s using his free hand to sift apart your stuffy pussy. Pressin’ aside your folds and getting a good eyeful of your entrance - getting flooded with his rock-hard inches, and then emptied out for him to do it all over again. And again. And again and again and—“And who was it that decided to marry me?”

You don’t know what’s hitting you harder: the shock of being called out, or the sudden wad of saliva that he’s spitting between your legs. “Well…me…”

Toji nods. “Pretty young thing like you…for what reason could you want to marry- me-” Every space between his words was punctured with a targeted strike to your g-spot. “Money? Name? Power?”

Your head’s getting foggy - you don’t even realize that you’re drooling before Toji looks down and tuts. He watches as a slick puddle formulates underneath you—“Did you wanna marry this ol’ clan leader for power, doll? S’that what you wanted?”

As much as you could, you’re shaking your head- difficult, given the way he still had the heel of his foot on you.

“No? Then what?” Toji pretends to think. “Hmmm, could it be that your clan elders pressured you into this, doll?” And just at that moment, he stops- even though it seems as if he wanted to say more. “I’ll kill you all if—”

It wasn’t targeted towards you. 

But you’re vehemently denying—“No. No. Not at all…” Sobs and sultry moans strangle in your throat, and your poor, poor hips are driving back into his as much as you could. “Please- oh, I j-just wanted—”

“Let me think.” Now that he’d started his vigorous pace up again, your eardrums were crackling with the constant pap-pap-pap! of Toji’s toned hips hitting yours. He was just so large - in every possible way, it was as though he was engulfing you with his massive body, with his shaft stretchin’ out your insides in ways you’ve never experienced before. “Is it because- haaaaah…” Toji breathes, the cloud of his heated breath wafting down your arched spine. “Is it because you knew that those other- boys couldn’t fuck you as well as I could?”

Your jaw drops- “Fuck.”

But it seems that Toji had found his footing. He drags you even harder against him - the ramming of your two bodies almost violently shaking the flooring beneath. “Is it because you knew that- mmm, this pussy would always be satisfied with me?” Whatever little jostling you’re experiencing at his movements, he’s considering it a nod. “Is it because you’d been greedy? Because you’ve been yearning-”

Somehow, he’s tipping his head backwards and managing to perfect a stream of spit down onto your stuffed cunt.

“-for someone more mature. Someone that knows how to handle a pussy, doll?” Voice dipped in lust. “Have you been yearning for Zenin Toji to fuck you properly?”

“Y-yes—” You pitch out softly. Sniffling. Seeing stars behind your eyelids. “Toji, m’so close…”

“So cum, then?” He snickers, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “What’re you waiting for? Permission?” Leaning back and projecting his voice - though, not for you. “Just so y’know, I’m gonna make my wife cum.” 

“Oh-oh my god—” The words crackle in your throat as a final bash to your syrupy-sweet spot leaving you careening into your high. Stars of pleasure burst behind your shuttered lids - and you’re dragged through wave upon wave of white-hot bliss. 

It overtakes you like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

And Toji was only more than happy to prolong them using his length. Hitting you right when your peaks were at their highest - and if you were in the right state, then you’d wonder how he even managed to time them - and making your veins feel molten within. Making you whimper and thrash into him. Thrashing and thrashing—fucked like you’ve never been before through your orgasm.

You’re so hazy afterwards that you barely even register the shuffling outside the bedroom - as the elders started making their way back to the banquet. Mission accomplished, you suppose.

And Toji takes his foot off your head. 

“Haaaaah, fuck.” He hisses. “Want to give them an encore, my wife?”

You couldn’t nod faster.

Before you know it, he’s tipping his head back and calling out - at the elders—

“Get ready for an encore, fuckers.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Parent-teacher DATING?!

“Ms. Teacher…” 

Itadori’s sweet, sweet voice breaks through your conversation with one of the parents; and you’re looking down to see him clasping one end of your flower-patterned apron. Pink brows furrowed. Chubby cheeks puffed. And how could anyone resist that face?

So throwing an apologetic smile at the parent, you’re leaning down slightly so that you could hear the little boy better. “Yes, Yuji?”

He cups a hand over his mouth then leans in towards your ear as if to whisper. “I have a secret to tell you.” And he does not whisper.

Still, you bite back a giggle and ask. “Oh, really? How exciting. Do I get to know that secret, Yuji?”

He nods.

Then leans in once more-

“My papa has a big, big crush on y-”

“Yuji—!”

You didn’t have to look up to see that it was none other than Nanami Kento, Itadori’s father, pushing past a few gossiping parents and kids playing jumprope- heading in your direction. He quickly clasps Itadori’s arm and gently tugs the boy away, “I am so, so sorry—I have no idea what’s gotten into him-” Nanami pinches the top of his nosebridge with a sigh. “He seems to have gotten it into his head that I have f-feelings for you, and…”

You watch, almost astounded, as the ever-stoic Nanami’s ears burn bright red.

“A-and I sincerely apologize if he made you uncomfortable in any way-”

“Oh, no.” You’re raising your hands up and fervently shaking your head. “He didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. Did you, Yuji?”

“Yup!” Those tufts of pink hair atop his head bounce as he nods as well, beaming - happy to see that you were on his side, at the very least. He then turns back to Nanami. “I didn’t make Ms. Teacher uncomfortable, papa. I just told her what you told me-”

“Sunshine…” Nanami grumbles, though with less panic in his voice this time.

And you’re biting back a smile as you look between the handsome father and his son; it’d been two years since Nanami had adopted Itadori, according to what the man had told you when he’d first enrolled the boy in Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary. Since then, you’ve had the privilege of watching over the father-son duo as they become closer, as they found family in one another, as they opened themselves up to both the school and you. 

And although you knew you shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher - you can’t deny that one of the best parts of your day was seeing the two. 

Yes, the two.

It didn’t quite help that Nanami Kento was the talk amongst the single ladies and men at pick-up. Tall. Tender. With his broad shoulders and his blond hair—always slicked back, not even a single strand out of line. 

Nanami was the type of man to hold doors open for students, other parents, and teachers alike - he’d happily stand there for half an hour as an entire grade passed by, if he had to.

Nanami was the type of man to not worry about what anyone thought of him as he let his energetic son paste stickers all over him, or use the play make-up he’d snagged from Kugisaki.

Nanami was the type of man to buy you a large bouquet of roses for Teacher’s Day- roses. And he’d apologized for at least fifteen minutes about not meaning any sort of innuendo, and he’d completely understand if you didn’t want to take them—you’d cut him off then n’ there by taking them with a gracious thank you. Even if others at pick-up shot you knowing smiles. 

So could you blame yourself if you happened to form a crush on the man?

And hearing what Itadori had to say about it now…

“I wouldn’t mind, y’know.” You speak once you’d ushered Itadori to play with some of his friends—Fushiguro and Kugisaki had just been dropped off. And Nanami was still standing next to you, watching as his son scampered off after causing perhaps the most chaos he’s ever experienced in his life. 

But ah…your voice was low enough that it couldn’t be heard by anyone around you two. Perhaps not even Nanami himself- but of course, he heard.

Of course, he heard.

He turns to you with widened eyes, “I uh…I- excuse me?”

You turn back to him with a grin, “How about coffee sometime this week?”

“I have a better plan.” As soon as the first bout of shyness wears off, he’s clearing his crackling throat and answering you. “How about dinner?”

.

.

.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuh-fuck.” Nanami wrenches between clenched teeth. His hot breath sticks against the side of your throat; and every single puff makes your skin erupt with perspiration. 

Which worked for him—it just let the movements between your two ravenous bodies proceed even faster, slipperier, sloppier. Nanami has you pressed flat against his neat mattress, in a bedroom that was humble and meticulously organized - and with Itadori at Fushiguro’s for a sleepover, the two of you could let those ancient bedsprings creak as much as they liked. 

Nanami could fuck you as hard as you liked.

He’s grinding that golden happy trail into your front; both palms pressed flatly atop your inner thighs to keep them open. To keep you stretched as faaaaar apart as you could go—because fuck- Nanami’s cock was thick enough that he had to pin you down n’ squeeeeeeze his inches inside as far as they could go. 

Rubbin’ his prominent veins along your walls. Entire body tensing up whenever you clench-

“Fuuuuuuck.” With a heavy sigh, he’s letting his head tip backwards. And honestly—you don’t think you’d ever seen a more attractive sight. 

You’ve always known that Nanami was ripped underneath those office button-ups of his - but this was damn-near Herculean. The way his shoulders were defined and pulled taut as they closed in on you, the way his chest was absolutely luscious—you almost wanted to take a bite. And you’d guessed that with energetic Itadori as a son, he hadn’t had the time to hit the gym lately.

Because there was a layer of thickness over his muscles that left Nanami softer and stronger- the soft curve of his belly pushes down on your core. 

Jostling your body back n’ forth with every honed thrust.

Banging at the back of your cervix and your throat- “Fuck. It feels so good, Kento.” 

“S-soooooo fucking good.” And you wonder which one of you two was more gone on your syrupy cunt: you or him. Nanami struggles to keep his damn head up- collapsing into the crook of your neck and letting out botched groans- every single time his sensitive tip slid uuuuuup your channel into its deepest depths. He almost sounded as though he was in pain as he wept—“F-forgive me, darling.”

Perking your head off the plush pillows, “What for, Kento?”

“Well it’s just…” And his foggy glasses were still on his face - which Nanami pushes up his nose bridge. “I haven’t felt this good in—forever. So forgive me if I’m a little…”

And then he’s surging his hips forwards and giving you a good thwack! with the rounded end of his shaft. Enough to make stars appear in your vision-

“-rough.”

And then it’s like the floodgates have opened.

Because Nanami’s grip on you grows hard enough to leave fucking nail marks, his sweat splashes with the urgency of his movements. “And I wanted to f-fuck you all niiiiiice and slow like this pretty pussy deserves.” Those strong arms keep manhandling you open as he shovels straight into you. “W-wanted to show you that a mature man like me could- hngh, make you feel the best you’ve ever felt.”

“But I already do…” You huff out, arms thrown needily around his neck. 

Yet Nanami doesn’t seem to hear—he doesn’t even seem to register. At least, the only acknowledgement that you get of your response is the way his body flinches ever-so-slightly at the mere sound of your voice. “And yet…” Those hazel-brown eyes of his widen as they run down your body, ultimately resting where your pussy was bloated all ‘round him. “And yet, one kiss of these pretty lips and I’m done for.”

“D-done for…” You repeat - mostly because you don’t know what else to do.

Don’t know what else you’re capable of doing other than wrapping your weak legs around his waist. Your hamstrings stretch and scream; and you’re sobbing yourself as his pace seems to accelerate.

“I can feel myself…” Nanami speaks through a watery mouth. “-getting fucking addicted—shit, like some hormonal punk. I should know better. A man my age…”

“Oh- oh, Kento.”

“I should know better- I should fucking know better.” He admonishes himself - though that doesn’t stop or even slow down the feral pap-pap-paps! of his pelvis hitting yours. Through scrunched-up eyes, he’s gazing upon you. “C-can’t believe you got some old man like me-” Despite your instant protests. “-to finally break.”

After a few more sudden strikes - almost animalistic - you’re managing to string together enough syllables. “But…I don’t mind, Kento.”

And that—that might just be the one thing that makes him falter. “Pardon?” He blinks up at you with glazed-over eyes.

Nodding, “I promise I don’t mind.” In fact, you’re tugging him in with a fistful of his blond strands between your fingers. “I- ngh! want you to go even harder…if you can-”

“Of course I can, my love.” The both of you are startled by his instant answer. “I-I mean, if you know that it means I might leave a few marks and—even more marks.” Perhaps most notably on your spongy cervix, welcoming his bashing thrusts.

But you don’t mind. Like you said.

You’re nodding even harder, “Yes, please.”

So polite. How could he ever refuse?

And in the blink of an eye, the blond-haired man leans over to clasp that patterned tie draped over his bedpost. It’d gotten thrown there sometime after the frenzy of getting home - quite convenient for when Nanami wanted to throw it loosely over his clammy neck and give you the other end to hold onto—

“Don’t be afraid to pull if it gets too much.” He puffs out at you in a breezy breath.

“Too much?” You ogle up at his handsome face. You half-jokingly wondered whether the bed - and perhaps you - would be in one piece by the time that Itadori gets home tomorrow. It was going to be a never-ending night…

“Mhm, because this is going to be rough, darling.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Controversy.

WHO IS ROCKSTAR HEARTTHROB GETO SUGURU’S GIRLFRIEND? HOW CAN WE BE HER?!

GOLD DIGGER?! BASSIST OF 6EYES SHUTS DOWN MALICIOUS RUMORS SURROUNDING BEAU: SAYS THEY ARE ‘BULLSHIT’. 

DILF OFF THE MARKET: GETO SUGURU CONFIRMS RELATIONSHIP OF ‘YEARS’ HE SAYS. 

Everyone knew of Geto Suguru. Or so it seemed when they were screaming his name and cursing yours—everyone wanted to be with him. 

Or be him.

Who wouldn’t? Thick rings. Grey-black hair. Feline smile.

A 6’2, long-haired dreamboat that just-so-happened to be the bassist of the hottest rock band on the charts right now: 6Eyes. They’d been discovered quite early on - when they’d just been out of high school, actually - and had maintained a steady presence in the music scene ever since. Shattering record after record and filling stadium after stadium. By the time you’d gone with some of your college friends to one of their concerts, they were already titans in the industry—and you’d been an instant fan. 

So imagine your surprise when your friend announced that one of the security had invited your group backstage. 

That was the night you’d met Geto Suguru - you’d locked eyes and the both of you had just known.

You signed that NDA. You met for dates under disguises. And you’d even met his young adopted daughters- oh, you adored them.

Several months later, when TMZ or some other site had broken the story of Geto secretly dating a fan over ten years younger than him - and that was when scandal ensued. The fandom was rabid—and you understood.

Though Geto, who was rather used to biting headlines and speculation, told you that the whole thing would blow over soon enough- you holed up in your shared penthouse. You turned off your social media notification. You tried not to turn on any celebrity news channel. 

And you decided: the very least you could do is make a good first impression…

“Easy now…easy there…” Geto holds the recorder in one hand n’ the side of your hips in his other. You’re maddeningly aware of both the rolling tape and the way his puckered, pretty tip is getting guided to your entrance—“Don’t strain yourself now. Trust Suguru.”

Just the very first inch of it slipping lusciously between your pussylips and easing inside.

Geto was always so thick, donning numerous veins that creep up the sides of his shaft in zig-zagging patterns. And the sheer girth of him intruding is enough to make you gasp-

“Mmm, that’s good.” The older man murmurs with a smile- long, greying hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “Let’s try again. A little louder this time.” Before he reels his hips back the mere inches he’s squeezed inside, and then rammin’ right back in again - it sounds the loudest squelch! as you’re taking even more of him. “Ohhhh, that’s good. Maybe I can use that as the outro, heh?”

“Maybe just use it for the entire ch-chorus.” You hiss.

“Trying to take my spotlight?” Geto leans down to kiss your swollen lips- or so you think. He’s pressing his pierced mouth against yours and gnawin’ down on your lower lip.

“Scared of- mmpf. Scared of being ousted by the young new talents?”

The edges of his lips curling upwards. “A rock veteran like me? Oh, I don’t think I have anything to be scared of…”

And you can only moan straight into his greedy, greedy maw as you’re jostled back and forth. Geto’s thrusts were oh-so-merciless and puncturing deeeeep into your womb—using the smooth Prince Albert’s piercing atop his flared tip, he’s torching every hidden spot and nerve-end inside. Mazin’ around your walls and pushing into those little ridges that just made your back arch into him-

His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles. 

“Hey hey-” The only thing snapping you out of your frenzy is Geto’s sharp tuts. He stalls your restless hips by hooking his fingers into your thighs and throwing them over his broad shoulders- dragging you back into him. “Don’t run away, gorgeous—the studio session’s not over yet.”

“I wasn’t running away.” You huff.

“Sure seemed like it to me.” He grins - that silver piercing of his glinting in the dim lighting. It was the type of Cheshire-cat grin that you knew wouldn’t bode well for you…and as soon as you’re thinking about it, Geto opens his sensual mouth and spits—straight between your lips.

The wad lands softly on your tongue.

And Geto himself reaches a second ringed hand up to close your jaw- to urge you to swallow. “Remember to keep those vocals hydrated, gorgeous. We’re getting to the good part now.”

You think you could gasp at the audacity—but what’s leaving you instead are a series of long, lewd moans. Mewls. Pleas. 

He’s drawing them out over and over again by hiking your thighs up his shoulders and pressing you into a mean mating press- lunging his body down into yours. Crushing your pliable self underneath him. Slashing your cervix with loooooong thrusts and his ropey precum puddling sweetly at the back of your pussy.

“Yeah- yeah, louder now.” Pushing the recorder even closer. “Louder, girl.”

“I am—oh.” With the way he was fucking you like he almost hated you - though it was rather the opposite - your sentences warble with hiccups and gasps. The lines of his veins were somehow massaging the exact hidden spots that drove you wild. 

“You got this.”

“Fuck-”

“Louder. S’just you and me.” This was exactly what he wanted to hear - his favorite melody was you. “Just a bit of chopping up n’ remixing- this is perfect. Gonna sound so fuckin’ pretty to my bass.”

“Fuh-feels so good-”

“Mhmmm, I know, gorgeous. Now let the listeners know.” 

Making your noise pitch upwards in volume. 

After a few more strokes, he bores down at you with a thoughtful expression. “Now…why don’tcha try calling me ‘Sugu’ for the recording?”

“You want me to be sappy? Okay, rockstar.” You’re unable to bite your tongue fast enough- though your snapping only makes him even more excited.

Amethyst eyes glistening. “Oh, don’t be a diva just yet, newbie.” The older musician brings the audio recorder closer to catch your every breath, “Trust me. I’ve been in this industry for a loooooong time- c’mon now. Listen to your- heh, vocal coach—say ‘Sugu’.”

How you loved riling him up just as much as he did to you. “Then give me something good to moan for, baby.”

“Don’t test my patience, superstar.”

Though he does as you say. 

You should have expected it all the same; the rockstar had mapped out every single good spot inside you. And it was with a near-photographic memory that he’s inching his length backwards- until it was just his lavish red tip lickin’ up your entrance.

Just for a second…just for two…

Before slamming into your g-spot so hard n’ suddenly that you almost sob.

Making your cunt mold to the exact texture of his circular piercing- hitting your sensitive area first, before then pushing his smooth tip into it as well. You’re feeling every bit of him—and you’re making sure that your future audiences can hear it, too. 

“S-Sugu—!” You’re thrashing in his arms- and he’s crashing and crashing his hips into you. Gluing the heated, stinging pink skin of his pelvis against yours so ferally that you can’t keep up with his pace no matter how fast you’re attempting to buck and bounce.

“Oh, that one’s going in the intro for sure.” He titters. 

“S’fucking mean.” You whimper as he pushes down on your lower half - purposefully, so that his scruffy happy trail scratches your clit.

“Sugu knows best.” So sweetly, he kisses your forehead—and you wonder whether the loud smacking sound that he leaves behind is more for the recorder or to make you squirm. Shy, much? “Now how about I fuck you pregnant n’ we just announce the baby on the album?”

You pause for a second - before a smile twitches at your lips. “A rockstar baby? You read my mind.”

He reciprocates. “Always knew you were made f’me.”

The headlines were sure to love this.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - MY UNCLE’S GF?!

Someone had suggested playing two truths and a lie:

You weren’t a lot older than Choso- at least in his eyes. That didn’t matter to him.

Choso has always wanted you.

He’s over that now, though.

Choso’s palms are sweaty ‘round his lightweight beer as he utters the words; words just a little louder than he intended them to be. Maybe that was the pre-game finally kicking in—but he couldn’t blame it on that, either. Had it been called three truths and a lie, then Choso would have also confessed that he was stone-cold sober as he murmurs two of his deepest secrets to the little circle of drunk college kids. 

And you.

You…you’re looking at him like you’d already guessed he’d say that.

Had he really been that obvious? Choso first met you three years ago, during his sophomore year in college, when he’d gone home for the holidays—and discovered that, this year, Sukuna had been dragged home, too. Except…his uncle hadn’t come alone this time.

He’d brought along- you. 

You were the one to greet him at the door—and Choso remembers his breath catching in his chest. He remembers feeling his heart bang against his ribcage. He remembers his eyes widening- and his mouth gaping stupidly as you introduced yourself.

So caught up in you, he’d been forced to ask Sukuna for your name again-

“Back off.” His uncle had scoffed, crimson eyes narrowing. Honestly - Ryomen Sukuna was the only person alive that could make cotton candy-pink hair look intimidating. “Don’t think I don’t see the way yer looking at her.”

He’d probably stammered something intelligible-

“Look all ya want- if she feels uncomfortable, she’ll thump ya herself. But you can’t touch.” Sukuna set his beer bottle down. “M’actually serious about this one.”

And Choso could see why - you were the first person that Sukuna had ever brought into the Itadori family home. You were smart. You were funny. You weren’t afraid to put the pink-haired man in his place. You were fucking gorgeous—

And…you were Sukuna’s girlfriend. Ten years older than Choso.

Which is why - no matter how badly you made his heart flutter - Choso had vowed to never, never so much as even think to act upon his feelings for you. 

He just had to grit his teeth and avoid prolonged conversation with you during every family function and gathering you attended with Sukuna- of which the man was making an appearance at every single one now. Almost as though to provoke him even more. 

And Choso was forced to make peace with the fact that he’d never make peace with his feelings.

That is…until the two of you broke up.

He’d heard news about it just a few weeks ago, actually- his father had said something about Sukuna being down in the dumps after you’d broken up with him. Something about not making enough time and drifting apart—Choso hadn’t heard the details, he’d been too overwhelmed with the guilty glee that’d shot through his body and made his heart pound. And then just tonight - oh, how he wished he could kiss whoever was looking down at him (but no, that was saved for you…) - Choso just-so-happened to run into you at the bar he was attending with his friends.

So of course he had to invite you over to their table.

Of course, he had to ignore your protests about being older than them all. None of that shit mattered. 

Of course, he had to sit right opposite you on the table and divulge his greatest secret - one he’d been keeping to himself for three years now.

You’re just opening your mouth to respond-

When Choso’s feeling a harsh smack! on his back and one of his friends crowing in his ear. “Atta boy! You never struck me as the type to like MILFs, man.”

“Technically I’m not a MILF yet.” You giggle, fixating your gaze upon him. He almost flinches. “But you’re right…I never thought you’d be the type to like older women. I’m ten years older than you, Choso, you know that right?”

Choso mumbles almost too quietly to hear. “Th-that doesn’t matter to me…”

“Yeah- and you’d probably like that ‘ma’am’ shit, eh?” His friend guffaws, making the now-bashful Choso - whatever courage he had liquified - duck his head. “Oh- sorry I didn’t mean—”

“No, no.” You dismiss the babbling college boy. “I’m not offended at all. In fact, you might be right.”

The table bursts into wolf whistles-

And it’s a blur until you’re ragging with the banter a little more - before discreetly excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Choso’s staring up at you - totally not admiring your back like some pathetic lovesick fool - before catching your gaze and your pointed wink.

And then he’s scrambling right after you. As discreetly as a sledgehammer.

.

.

.

Nose buried into the crook of your neck. Mouth gaped wide open- letting out the sweetest crackling moans into your skin. 

Choso had you pushed against the bathroom stall - clean, don’t you worry - with his arms wrapped around your body n’ his cock shoved between your legs. Dragging in and out in a way that was so messy—he’s roverin’ around his globules of cum with that fat tip of his, and then reeling his hips rapidly backwards to spray it down your walls over and over.

He’d cum as soon as he’d put it inside.

And it wasn’t his fault.

Honest! 

“Oh- oh.” And now he was panting desperate breath after breath between thrusts—“I’m sorry…the condom broke, baby.” Choso’s lower lip cutely trembles as he speaks. “Can’t help it. And then your pussy’s just so warm and welcoming a-and…”

His breath hitches as he hits that one gluttonous spot that makes you clench.

“-and I just- can’t- when you’re squeezing me like that.”

Basically hypnotized, Choso’s slender fingers dip down between your legs. And so swiftly - that you’re almost surprised at his nimbleness - he pulls out of your wet hole n’ clasps his hand around his barely-wrapped length. The rubber condom had been too tight around him, and it’d shattered into a million pieces—Choso looks up at you through his doe-like lashes, and waits until you’re nodding.

That’s when he’s wringing off his broken condom and squeezing out whatever wetness it held. Pushing out the cum back onto your pussy. 

Making such a mess. 

Those pure-white droplets that end up splattered back down on your pussy- warm and utterly unwholesome. A sinful cover. He wasn’t leaving a single ounce wasted. “Sh-shit.” Choso’s mouth gapes wide open. “It’s all your fault…”

Just the cutest trickle of saliva makes its way down his lips - and you’re reaching upwards to wipe it away. “Awwww. Ever done it raw before, Cho?”

After a brief bout of hesitation, he shakes his head.

“I’ve never done it before.” He confesses. Your eyes widen, so he was a virgin…

“Then are you sure you can handle it, baby? No need to push yourself if-”

“No.” He gasps. Sharp. Shot-through. It leaves his lips before he even knows what’s happening- and then you’re clenching again in a way that makes his brows twist together, and his fingers dig into your waist. “No, no, no, no-” Eyes frenzied. “We don’t have to stop f’me, baby. We don’t even have to slow down—”

Cum-coated; his thickened cock gets sandwiched between your lips then jerked back and forth a few times. By now he was so wet with slick n’ sap that it was making him slip a few times before he’s actually managing to get it in again—and that, too, with your help. 

You reach down to help grip Choso’s raging-hot erection, and guide it inside your cunt: an action that leaves the other man blushing down to the roots of his hair. Even his tip throbs just a little harder—“Th-thank you, ma’am.”

Your brows raise in amusement- and it only hits him then. So he was into the ‘ma’am’ thing.

“I mean- baby.” He sounds so utterly ruined. “Thank you, baby. Promise I can handle it now, m’kay?”

And oh…you can’t deny that it was just so fun to tease him. “Hmmm…I dunno, Choso-”

Chocolate-brown bangs sticking to your skin, he’s lurching his face away to bore straight into your eyes. “I-is it because I’m younger?” He asks with a hint of desperation, and your lips part as your ex’s hot nephew keeps steamrolling away with his pussydrunken mouth. Poor, poor Choso. “Because I promise I can handle it. I can fuck you- ngh, the best. Promise m’gonna make you feel sooooo—”

Choso’s hips were hammerin’ away at a pace you’d never have suspected- and his hips end up crushed against yours. So close that the scruff of his happy trail scratches your clit raw.

“-g-good.” A single tear track runs down his face - you’re unsure whether he’s talking about you or himself.

“Easy there, tiger.” You’re pushing back on a stray lock of his hair- darker now with perspiration. The sweet gesture makes Choso huffs. 

It wasn’t doing him any favors, however, as that only made him look even cuter. You’re craning your neck and planting a chaste peck on his bubblegum-pink lips—only for Choso to take control of the kiss and softly bite down on your bottom lip. “Baby-” He rasps. And with just how sweet Choso had always been to you, you could’ve almost forgotten how strong he was- how easily he could bounce you down on his cock- how needy he was for you. Feral. Even though you had him wrapped ‘round your finger, he was jostling your pussy’s inside like craaaazy. “Don’t do that. Don’t baby me- I need to be taken- ngh, s-seriously by you, m’kay?”

“Oh…” You’re letting out a heated breath as his tip empties out at your cervix.

And to prolong that sensation; Choso claws his hand up and pushes on the lower part of your stomach. Right beneath where your cunt was expanding and contracting with his cock. “Feel how big I am?” He doesn’t stop putting pressure on that spot until you’re nodding - “How hard? How much I’m leaking?” Just on cue, a splatter! of precum leaks between your pussylips.

And with something like a broken whimper- Choso snakes his fingers down to push the leakage back up your channel. 

“O-oh—this pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. And I can handle it- I can handle it.” He utters more to himself. The more he’s speaking, the harder and longer he’s fucking you, the more ruined he sounds. “M’not as innocent as you think, baby.”

“Oh? Do tell.” You smile.

Such a gorgeous, gorgeous smile that he almost hesitates wiping away with a roll of his thumb - stimulating the nerves of your clit. But it makes you break out into the prettiest lewd expression that leaves him rutting his hips even harder, “Do you have any idea how fuh-fucking long I’ve waited for this? How badly I’ve wanted to- ngh, stuff my cock and fuck you like an animal?” As he trails off, he feels his stinging tip start to twitch even more wildly. Dangerously. “Fuck—”

“H-how long?” You’re asking with a smug smirk.

Choso’s blinking a few times just to let the question register- and finally muttering. “Even when you were dating- him. Ever since I first saw you…” And then he rubs his thumb at an even more steadied pace, matching it to the pushes of his spearing cock. “You were wearing that red dress of yours- hah, and I could see the strap of your pretty pink bra peaking out…the one with the bows on-”

That makes you gasp.

Which Choso takes advantage of to plaster his lips against yours n’ suckle on your tongue. 

“And then-” Barely managing out through kisses- through stabs of his length- through the pleasure. “And then you called me ‘baby’ as you were getting ready to leave, and I- ngh, knew you were teasing me for being younger—fuck, I h-had to run to the bathroom just to jerk off.”

Rovering his mushroomy trip straight into your nerve-ended g-spot; you’re arching into his chest as you feel Choso lose his grip on his sanity.

Already having been so loose.

He’s babbling as he cums long and hard, and oh-so-deeeeeply into your cunt. Mouth ajar. Body collapsing against yours - caging you even further against the bathroom wall. “Baby- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Shit, so much…” Just feeling the ribbons upon ribbons of creamy-white sap he was emptying out. Hot. hypnotizing. Every stroke managed to hit your best spots, and every push meant your pussy was getting overloaded with his cum. The inches of his shaft were curved just perfectly enough that he’s managing to slip aside your walls and use his tip to circle and circle those webs of cum at the very base of your pussy. All over. 

Soon enough, you’re feeling a layer of it make its way down your inner-thighs—and Choso still didn’t seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. You moan, “H-how can you cum this much- mmpf.”

He captures your lips in another sloppy kiss. “Must be the stamina of a younger guy.”

“Choso you’re pussydrunk.” You’ve never heard him sound so drawling and dreamy.

“Hmmmm…” He’s nuzzling the crook of your neck, leaving bite marks that will be entirely too difficult to explain when you’re going back outside. “Did you cum? Promise I can- ngh, make you cum, too…” Grazing your skin with his lips.

“Prove it, then.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 6…9?

“It’s a fuckin’ pandemic, isn’t it?”

You’re looking at your boyfriend over the rim of your book, “Excuse me?”

Sukuna was seated on the armchair in the corner of your bedroom; just having finished a video call with his brother and his nephew. The bright chatter (at least from their end) had died down some minutes ago, and they’d bid your boyfriend goodnight—which was rather the same routine for these biweekly calls. Despite how much the two of you visited, Itadori Yuji always found it too hilarious to put strange filters on his grumpy uncle.

Except, tonight…Sukuna had sat in the armchair for a few minutes longer.

Usually; he would join you in bed.

Usually; he would grumble - though with a fond smile on his face - about whatever Yuji had been chattering about before. 

He was practically an honorary father to the boy, and it always made you smile to see. 

Usually; he wouldn’t look up at you as expressionless as if he’d seen a ghost- as if his soul had wafted away. And ask you about some…pandemic? Did Yuji put something in his head again?

At the confused expression on your face, Sukuna was heaving out a sigh—pushing up those glasses that were totally, most definitely not glasses and merely a tool he uses to…see…better up his handsome nosebridge. Sukuna was in his late thirties, and silver was beginning to tinge the edges of his pink hair, climbing up his temples. His crows’ feet creased as he frowned at you, “The…67 thing. It’s a pandemic.”

“67 thing?” You gape, your book plopping down on the bed. 

“You heard me.” He scoffs. “I’ve been thinking it’s mass hysteria- every brat at his kindergarten keeps repeating it. But there seems to be no pattern or cohesion. I thought it was just those damn kindergarteners, but the other day I even caught Jin saying it-”

“S-six…seven…thing.” You’re repeating - for no reason other than to confirm to yourself that what you’re hearing was real.

Sukuna straightens in his chair, “See? Now it’s got you—”

“Kuna, like the meme?” You’re shaking your head, “The one from the song? Oh my god, it’s not mass hysteria-”

He crinkles his nose. “The hell is a…meme?”

“You don’t know what a—” How has he been Yuji - of all people’s - uncle but still had no idea? You continue, “It’s basically an Internet inside joke- it’s been over for a while now but the kids are still obsessed with it.” Finally gripping your book once more, you level him a look. “You didn’t seriously think it was mass hysteria, did you, Kuna?”

Sukuna crosses his bulky arms and looks away. “Tch—”

And when he catches you giggling, he barks-

“What?!”

“Oh- nothing.” And from the smile upon your lips - Sukuna knew that whatever was coming out of your mouth next wasn’t about to be anything sincere. 

Which is why he’s raising himself off the sofa and climbing up the foot of your bed.

You continue, “It’s just you’re getting old, Kuna.”

Joking; nothing ever riled Ryomen Sukuna up more than teasing him for not understanding some new slang or lyric. 

And with how much he riled you up sometimes—you had to get back at him somehow, alright?

Soon enough, he’s pinning you down to the bed - with his toned pelvis pressing down on your waist, and his arms creeping upwards to keep your wrists pushed against the mattress. “Say that shit again. I dare you.”

You’re leaning up as though to kiss him. “Old man.”

.

.

.

Sukuna’s tongue was zig-zagging wiiiiildly between your legs- striking the soft circle of your entrance and then swervin’ as deeply inside as it could go. Deeper. Deeper.

No matter how fervently his mouth was glued to your pussy. 

No matter how ravenously.

His hips rut off the bed with every single lick—and that fat, throbbing tip of his kept shovelling n’ shovelling at a synchronized pace with his tongue. 

He had you twisted in sixty-nine with your pussy latched onto his lips. 

Sukuna’s own cock squeezing out heavy volumes of his salty precum near your lips, then promptly pushin’ them inside with his thrusts- Sukuna was so loooong and rock-hard that he was managing to swab across every spot and directly target the back of your throat. Playing with that dangly in the back.

You’re moaning as he squeezes two ringed-decorated fingers into your tight cunt. And he grins as he feels the vibrations—“Ah ah- s’rude to talk with your mouth full.” 

Just then, Sukuna’s planting a smack! on your pussy that makes you pull off of his shaft with a loud pop! “H-hey…”

“What?” He trundles. Reaching his hips up and guiding his needy tip back into your mouth, “Speak.”

All because he knew that you’d attempt to nonetheless- and it would end up with the most lewd noises being muffled into this cock. It would end up with his eyes scrunching shut, his head throwing backwards at the shocks of pleasure. “Th-thought I told you to speak? Hah- not babble. Cock got your tongue or something?”

And…it would end up with you being all huffy n’ puffy. “That’s not even f-fair…”

“Heh- fair?” From where he’d been nipping at your clit, Sukuna pulls off - just to confirm he wasn’t hearing things. He wasn’t. And though you couldn’t see his expression from this angle, you could practically hear the amusement in his tone. “What happened to me being old, huh? You surely don’t need me to go easy on you.”

“I d-didn’t say that…” You’re stubbornly answering him - though the constant drives of his fingers were driving you absolutely mad. Sure. 

“Good.” And then you’re feeling two more consecutive smack-smacks! atop your bloated folds. “Because, babydoll…m’barely even started.”

In no time, Sukuna has you manhandled so that your stomach’s against the soft bed. Your back’s against his thoroughly toned front - so incredibly strong; he was bulky—with a layer of thickness to him that made your skin tingle with want - and his erect cock placed between your legs. He takes a few moments to wetten your core up- because no matter how many times you’ve taken him, you think you’ll never get used to Sukuna’s sheer size.

And before long you’re clawing onto the headboard for dear life—as he damn-near molds your tender cunt to his size. Startin’ at the tip-top of his bloated shaft, and then bouncing you down- down- down so many inches greedily. 

Utterly greedily. 

“Oh- oh, fuuuuuck.” Hands shooting forwards to grab onto more of the mahogany frame.

But Sukuna stops you right then n’ there by wrapping his right arm around your neck; like a wreath, your pants are immediately cut off. And his muscles bulge as they tighten—the defined ridges of his biceps pushing against your throat - it’s sensual enough to make your mouth water…“And where’d you think you’re going, huh?”

“Nowher- mmpf.” Cut off immediately by the tightening of his muscled restraint. 

“Lying’s not a good look, brat.” Then his second set of fingers snakes down to spank! your stuffed pussy- right atop your bloated folds. The shockwaves that run up your spine are enough to make you buck and whine—and enough to make him drag you back into him. Again and again. “Wasn’t stuffing this mouth earlier ‘nough to teach you a little lesson?”

So stubborn. “Not at all-”

He’s spitting straight between your lips.

And when Sukuna’s fucking you; it’s with harsh, pointed jabs - scouring deeeeep into the bottom of your pussy and leaving the mark of his cockhead. That rounded bruise you feel throb-throb-throbbin’ away every time he repeats the action—he fucks you like he hates you.

And he’s only growing faster, harder by the second.

Only tightening his headlock and wrenching your body back into his. Again and again.

Over and over.

Until the globes of your ass were stinging with impact, and you’ve memorized the pattern of his happy trail. It’s practically a part of you. 

Sukuna’s rugged cock knew aaaaall the right spots. Making your pupils roll around in the whites of your eyes, and leaving you wondering just how he had this much stamina still…“Awww, c’mon now.” His low voice trundles in your ears. “Get your act together, girl. You don’t wanna be this cockdrunk for someone so old, huh?”

“I-I—”

“What was it you called me?” He growls, sharp canines nipping at the shells of your ears. “Huh? What was it you called me? See, this fossil ‘ere has some trouble…remembering-”

Every syllable of his was punctured by a thorough glide across the velvety channel of your pussy- “Ummm, then in that case, I didn’t say anything?” You try your luck.

“Nice try.” Sukuna grins. “But m’not that geriatric yet.”

Another spank. “Please-”

“What did you call me?”

“I-I just meant-”

And another. “What did you call me?”

“An…old man.” You feel embarrassed just letting the words slip between your lips.

You didn’t think he could get even rougher with his movements - his shaft was throbbing, and his pelvis was smack-smack-smacking into you. So hard that you’re propelled forwards by the sheer force; and Sukuna roughly lurches you back with his headlock. “I might be an old man- cheh. I might not know all these…damn Internet memes- but I do know how to fuck this pussy right.” To prove his point, he scours in-between your pussylips to squeeze your pretty clit. “Look at her- she’s in love with me.”

“O-oh—” Eyes fluttering shut. 

“I know how to make her cry with pleasure. I know how to make her- mmmngh, squeeze like she doesn’t want me leavin’…heh.” He continues muttering into your ear as his hips grow more fervent. “I know how to make her feel so good—”

Your teeth grit. “Shit.” And you recognize the twisting sensation at the pit of your stomach. “K-Kuna, I’m gonna cum-”

“And even better.” He chuckles. Gnawing at the top of your ear shell, before moving down to bite the tender crook of your neck - like a wolf catching his prey. “I might not know those fuckin’- memes like the youngsters do. But I do know how to make this pussy- cum.”

“S-sooo close—don’t stop.” You’re bouncing n’ bouncing back into his pistoning hips. 

Feeling the pleasure well up. Feeling your head start to spin a little as you near your high- 

You’re crashing past your tipping point. And Sukuna gives you one, two, three good strokes to fuck you through the bursts of white-hot pleasure running through your veins - before he’s suddenly setting you free of his headlock and letting you drop straight into the plush pillows. 

Reeling his damn cock out.

You don’t know what’s louder: your disappointed groan or his rough cackle.

“What? Wanted this old man to be nice in bed or something?” As soon as you’re looking over your shoulder, you’re met with Sukuna’s priggish grin—his sharp canines peaking out at the edges of his lower lip. 

Grumpily, you nod. “Yes? What- can’t last or—oh.”

Another smack. “That’s not gonna work on me again- sorry, babydoll.” And before you know it, you’re being flipped right over - getting your legs thrown over his shoulders and pushed into the meanest mating press you’ve ever experienced. “Because m’not letting my bratty girl properly cum until I’ve had a good few rounds to blow off some steam. And m’sure you can keep up- heh, if not…”

“And um- how many rounds might that be exactly?”

Sukuna smirks. “67.”

“I hate you.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - “M-mommy!”

AITA for seducing the HOT rich MILF (40’sF) that I (23M) pool-clean for while her ex-husband and kids were away?! In my defense, she’s reeeeeally hot.

You freeze.

Ino freezes.

The world itself seems to freeze; all except for the ruby-red tip of Ino Takuma’s cock. Shoved deeeep inside your cunt - deep enough to leave a permanent bruise there - and throbbing away wildly—he’s cumming with that particular title escaping his lips. 

And then his lower lip wobbles once- twice- before he ducks down and attempts to hide his face in his arms. 

“Hey hey-” Swiftly, you reach down to push his hands away - you’d be disappointed not to see his pretty expressions as you fucked him even further. All pouty lips and doe-like eyes—Ino Takuma was so pretty, and perhaps that’s what drew you to the younger pool cleaner in the first place. “What’s the matter, Taku?”

“I-I didn’t mean to call you that- honest!” He stammers out.

To which you’re cocking your head with a sly smile- time to try something. “Call me what, Taku?”

“Y’know what it is…” Ino grumbles, huffing. And when you simply continue to stare at him in slight confusion, he’s rockin’ up into your wet cunt as he speaks- “The way I c-called you—mommy- oh.” Just as you’d predicted, his velvety length jolts at the mere utterance of that title. Excitedly spurting out a few creamy-white wads of cum that glue to your cervix.

So messy. He was so fucking messy.

How ironic, considering that his entire job was to clean your pool.

You’d been introduced to Ino through one of your friends - those networks of older rich women with far too much time and money on their hands. Juggling kids and businesses. And you’d just been complaining to them over a gold-flaked brunch that your last pool cleaner had moved towns, and with your kids now entering middle school, the pool was left without use and starting to gather leaves. 

That’s when they’d shared Ino’s number with you—a reliable pool cleaner. Just graduated college, and so easy on the eyes if they did say so themselves…

You’d huffed that you’d tell their husbands- meanwhile you on the other hand had just recently gotten divorced. One too many nights of your husband coming home with a cloud of mysterious perfume around him, or a lipstick stain on his collar - at least you’d gotten a good chunk of everything in the divorce!

But that was all in the past- maybe love just wasn’t for you.

You had your kids. You had your gorgeous hillside mansion. You had your hobbies and friends- men just weren’t…for…

Fuck, that’s when he’d showed up at your door. 

Bright and early. Beaming with all his gorgeous pearly whites; the sweetest smile on such a killer body. Ino showed up in nothing but an unbuttoned flowery shirt and swim trunks—their lightning-yellow color perfectly complemented his slightly-tanned skin and messy brown hair. Slightly tawny from the Sun.

“Er, I hope you don’t mind.” Ino had said, a sheepish smile on his face. “I thought I’d get changed for the job before I got here.”

Mind? Mind?!

In simply what world would you mind—it took every speck of reason and rationality in you to dart your eyes away from the plane of his chest, his washboard abs. Sultry shoulders. Slender waist. There was a scattered happy trail that ran between his six-pack and- beneath his swimming trunks. 

Fuck. 

Instead, you focused on the tight necklace of shells around Ino’s throat. “C-come in.”

On the first day, you stayed inside - only peeking out occasionally from your bedroom window - as Ino cleaned your pool. You tipped him heavily.

On the second day, he’d told you that it was completely okay with him even if you used the pool whilst he was cleaning—and you took that as your sign. You donned a bikini you hadn’t gotten the chance to use in years, and sprawled yourself out on the nearest sun bed - making occasional conversation with him almost as an excuse to ogle him.

And if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say that he ogled you too. 

But you really did discover that Ino was a sweetheart- and made you giggle like a schoolgirl, too. How embarrassing you felt admitting this!

And a part of you was almost relieved when your kids arrived home from school - escorted by their driver - so you could resume your mundane lavishness. But a bigger part of you was already yearning for when you’d see him again…

And so continued the third day.

And the fourth day.

And so on to the fifth and the sixth.

Before you knew it, Ino had been employed as your pool-cleaner for at least a month—and he’d quickly grown to become someone you and your kids were quite fond of. Even your driver had caught on, and shot you a knowing smile every time you asked him to escort Ino back to his downtown apartment. Perhaps feeling jealous of such an occurrence, your ex-husband had showed up with tickets to an amusement park - already having planned a day trip for your kids.

They’d, of course, begged to go. And so you’d agreed.

Leaving nobody inside this vast mansion: but you, Ino, and the growing tension between you two. 

The only thing was, right before he left, your ex-husband had the audacity to stop Ino and snipe at him. Low and threatening. “Touch her and I’ll make you very, very sorry.”

So, of course you’d fucked Ino as soon as they were out of the house. 

Squeezing your robe-covered thighs ‘round his waist—just so perfectly curved to meet your embrace. “W-we really shouldn’t be…I mean- I’m old enough to be your-”

“Works just fine for me, pretty.” He’d cut you off. Pulling on the gauzy material of your robe to let your tits spill out- fuck, he was in heaven.

Enough so that it’d taken just putting it in for Ino to cover your luscious inside in his sap. To watch the satiny liquid seep between your pussylips and leave his pelvis gleaming with a sheen. To wrench out the most pathetic calls of your name—and one particular title that made him want to get swallowed up by the Earth.

Again and again.

Ino’s cock was longer than you’d expected - and all this time, you’d been wondering where the hell he’d been hiding all that in his swimming trunks. Just reaching over six pretty inches. Just smooooth and leaned ever-so-slightly towards the left. It’s making his bulbous tip drag across every sweet spot inside you, and your thighs quiver as you take him.

Every single inch. You’re arching your back and mustering up your strength to grind your hips forwards and back, forwards and back.

Milking him—

“C’mon, baby.” You’re cooing down at the handsome man. He blinks his teary eyes open- and you just can’t help but lean down n’ kiss them away from his cheeks. “Call me ‘mommy’ again?”

“C-can’t…” Ino blushes down to the roots of his chocolate-brown hair. “It’s embarrassing-”

“But it gets me so wet, Taku.” You pout—and his eyes widen at your admission. You watch as his pupils shift down- as if making sure. “Pleeeeeeeease? Just once?”

And in response, you smush your thighs harder around him. You’re sure you leave red, red welts on his skin - but that wasn’t registering in his mind right now. Nothing was. Nothing but the smooch of your soft velvety insides embracing his cock, and the sensation of cum sploshin’ around inside you. “Fine…but only because I wanna impress you…” His breath hitches. “-mommy.”

You shiver. “Oh, I liked that—”

And he does, too, because your cunt’s just suctioning on his length as if you were trying to take his soul. His fucking soul. 

The thing is- Ino would have gladly given it to you at this moment.

“It feels good- it f-feels s-sooooo good.” Tears begin to crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and Ino’s fingers dig into the sides of your hips as he bucks upwards. “Fuck, it should be illegal for it to feel this good- mommy.” And he can’t fucking help it—it echoes before he can stop himself. 

“Taku, I think you like saying that more than me.” With a soft chuckle, your dominant hand ends up wrapped around his throat. “C’mon now- a little faster for mommy.”

“Sh-shut—ngh.” No matter how hard he attempts to regain control- it doesn’t work. He pushes upwards into your soft, syrupy cervix as though marking it.

After a few desperate thrusts, he asks you- “Is this okay?”

“Hmmmm…” You pretend to think - and the ruined expression on his face is oh-so-completely worth it. “How about a biiiiit faster?”

His jaw drops- but he doesn’t complain. He’s grabbing onto either side of your thighs now, and plunging straight into your deepest depths—multiple thwacks! every second, it feels like. “H-how about-”

“Just a little faster.”

Doubting himself. “Is that even possible-”

“But you’d do it for- heh, me won’t you? You’d do it to make me feel good?”

Nodding and nodding. “Yes, mommy. A-anything for you mommy—” Broken moans and pleas cycle at the back of Ino’s throat, and he’s planted his feet flat on the mattress to push himself up ravenously. “M’just here for you to use me.”

Your eyes widen - your smile grows.

“Just use me-” He gasps, face reddening as he follows your instructions. “Fucking use me like a toy. Use me- fuh-fuuuck—”

“A liiiiiittle bit—” Your head tips backwards as he’s entering the perfect pace - rapid enough to leave your thoughts stupidly muddled, but still steady enough that you’re feeling every single ridge, vein, and curve. Giving your walls such a good massage—“Th-that’s perfect, Taku.” You squeeze his pretty neck tighter, and you’re hearing him let out a little hiccup of a sob. “Mommy’s so proud of you.”

Oh, and you thought that he was ruined enough already?

You thought that he was reaching his limits?

Because after that particular sentence - oh, you’re evil for that - Ino digs his digits into the flesh of your thighs and rams deep into your womb. His pistoning cock resting there for a brief few split-seconds as he sputters—“L-let me make you a mommy all over again.”

Your breath catches. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, Taku-”

“Fucking yes.” His glazed tip twitches dangerously in a way that told you he was oh-so-close to cumming again. Again.  “Yes, please- fuuuuck, let me get you pregnant. Let me make you a mommy for the third time. I-I promise I’ll be the best- ngh, dad and nothing like that asshole. I’ll take care of you and cherish you and-”

You kiss him to shut him up.

“But of course, baby.” You hum. “But you have to be quick before my ex-husband finds out.”

He’s never cum harder in his life. 

Verdict: NTA (drop the fucking tutorial, OP).

♡ GOJO SATORU - Sugar, sugar…

Gojo Satoru wasn’t technically a DILF - but he was a sugar daddy.

And they called you a gold digger.

Gojo called you business-savvy.

It was a rather unique situation: the relationship between the two of you had started out as a regular sugar daddy-sugar baby relation. You met Gojo Satoru at some stuffy ol’ business function when you were the arm candy of some other businessman—one who’d been ignoring you in favor of one of his business associates the entire night, of course.

Whatever.

You’d gotten used to this routine by now - and so you’d drifted by the grazing table with microscopic clean cuts and cheeses you couldn’t even pronounce. 

And that was exactly how your knight-in-shining-suit had sidled up next to you.

With two champagne glasses in-hand and a flirtatious smile upon his face, he handed you one of the drinks. Then you gestured at the businessmen you’d arrived with- and Gojo had the audacity to roll his eyes and pretend to retch. That was when you knew you’d get along.

Tall. Toned. With twinkling blue eyes—and just the slightest bit of silver creeping into his already-white hair. Gojo Satoru was as handsome as he was rich—and considering that both aspects occupied a fair share of the conversations tonight, you were rather flattered to be in his presence. Though the CEO of Gojo Corporations didn’t waste time: “Y’know, if I was lucky enough to arrive with an angel- I’d never leave her sight. Why waste time with some geezers over such a gorgeous gal?”

You smiled.

And you left that night with Gojo instead.

From the boxes of jewelries and flights around the world - to the tabloids and online speculation that couldn’t get enough of you. 

CEO of Gojo Corporations finally finds love?!

Gold digger or gold-hearted: All we know about Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend!

Is it sugar baby season? The newest IT Girl’s best red-carpet looks so far—

But of course, there was always some truth to those headlines. Perhaps. 

You were Gojo Satoru’s sugar baby. You were in a transactional relationship- though he never laid a hand on you. Not unless you initiated it.

So…what was it really?

You got your answer a few months into this limbo of lust—the two of you finally started dating. 

And to be quite honest; it wasn’t that big of a change at first. The two of you went out for romantic dinners either way. The two of you dodged paparazzi and rumors every step. The two of you bantered and teased as much as you did anyways- the only change would be that Gojo Satoru finally let loose when he fucked you.

Though, at times, he still did like to let his sugar daddy side peek through…

“A-awwww- just look at you.” Gojo’s hands were rubbin’ furiously down his length - from those curls of white cozily decorating his base, up to that poor, pretty tip that just wouldn’t stop cumming. Up and down. Up and down. 

Salty-sweet heaps of cum were pouring out of his cockhead and splashing down your front- your stomach, your inner thighs, your cunt. He watches as it creates a little waterfall effect—and Gojo reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy with his long fingers. “No matter what pretty trinkets n’ expensive lingerie you wear- you always look the prettiest covered in my cum, sweetheart.”

“S-Satoru—” You’re squirming underneath him. Hands clasping the silken sheets.

Your fingers were decked-out in diamond rings. Your lacy lingerie was tugged n’ pulled aside for access. 

Around you were bracelets upon necklaces upon every piece of jewelry that your heart could desire - Gojo had taken it upon himself to empty out Tokyo’s luxury stores earlier. All for you, of course.

All to drown you in—whilst he attempted to do the same with his fucking cum-

“I fuckin’ loooooove it when it covers you like this.” He hisses- nose scrunches in a feral way as he glides his fingers across those splatters. Those smears. That ruinous mess. His favorite was to see you like this: pull out game, who? You often scoffed whenever Gojo claimed that his was unmatched. “Love the way it looks like your pretty pussy can’t keep it in-” Just another light tap on your cunt. “Love the way it looks so pretty on your skin like this—mmm, you’ve got me obsessed, girl.”

Your thighs were shaky- but not shaky enough to stop you from attempting to pull him even closer. They’re wrapping around his waist, and careening him close ‘nough to kiss your puffy pussylips with his throbbing tip. His length doesn’t stop sensitively twitching for a single second—“O-oh…greedy for more, my girl?” 

“More.” Just barely managing to wrangle out. “W-want some more—”

“Fuuuuck.” He whispers underneath his breath - something so ragged in his tone. That blushin’ tip of his was twitching in excitement already, and Gojo probably doesn’t even realize before he’s slotted his still-erect length between your legs and his rockin’ away at a slow pace. “You seriously want more?”

Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation of him intruding your hole- seemingly only growing bigger every time he feels you clenchin’ around nothing. So needy. 

“Yes-” You’re nodding furiously. Perhaps had this been any other time, then you’d have been almost embarrassed at your unabashed eagerness. “B-but this time, I want it inside, Toru.”

“Inside?” Gojo’s pale brows fly to his hairline. “But you’re already stuffed so full, my sweetheart.”

And then he’s smearing his fingertips between your bloated folds- teasin’ them apart and taking a good look at your entrance. He can’t help himself - he’s spitting straight into that puckered hole—and watching at the glossy wad slips down your crevice and only adds to the mess he’s made previously. You’re shivering as he runs his nimble digits up n’ down your slit and presses on your clit.

“Yes, but—” You keen, arching into his firm core. “But you never really came inside, Toru.”

“Oh…” Those glossed lips of his part.

And you’re taking the opportunity to throw your arms weakly around him- “And I want it inside this time.” Though Gojo loved teasing you with his creamy-white sap—making you beg for it at times, he’s never properly cum inside.

He always thought it’d be too soon: you were younger, after all. And a pregnancy at this point might derail your plans-

“But I want it.” Had he been babbling this entire time? The sheer determination in your eyes sends a jolt of dark-black need through him - far more primal than he ever thought possible. Far more. Gojo’s blue peripherals glaze over as he clasps his cock even tighter, as though afraid he’s so hard now that it’d fucking fall off.

“Shouldn’t fall off now.” He whispers breathily.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Gojo quickly amends. Before he uses the pointed tip of his shaft to web up those dollops of cum he’d spurted ‘round your thighs and folds—it creates a gloss of white that he thinks would suit the insides of your pussy so well (did he mention that he was the one to pick out your lingerie colors?) ‘Round and ‘round.

It devises the most sinful sounds between your legs. And your breath catches in your throat: “A-are you gonna cum inside or not, Toru? Hurry-”

“So impatient.” He’s tutting. Voice low and husky. “I hope you know that if I fuck my cum inside—then m’gonna fuck you pregnant, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps scatter across your skin.

But Gojo doesn’t let you squirm, he doesn’t let you move about restlessly- he’s pinning you down with his hips and rumbling lowly in your ear. “M’gonna make sure it takes.” A rough sliiiiiide of his length sandwiched between your cushy pussylips - drooling for him by now. “M’gonna stuff you so full that you won’t even be able to walk—” Another rough slide. A thrust. “M’gonna give you the most precious gift of all - in my eyes.”

“P-please—!”

As you’re letting your head tip backwards, Gojo reaches his hand up to and clasps your gorgeous, gorgeous face. Smushing your cheeks together in a way that was so pathetic - “Are you okay with that, pretty baby?”

You’ve never heard him sound so serious.

And you’ve never yowled an affirmation faster in your entire life—

In the next few seconds, Gojo’s stuffed rawly all the way to the hilt and is messin’ up your insides with determined strokes. Once. Twice. Thrice- he punctures through your clingy walls and hits all the best spots - memorizing your g-spot and running his flared tip along it. 

And honestly, it doesn’t take much - the two of you were already so overstimulated already - before you’re feeling the wave of euphoria start to build up in your stomach already. Almost as lewd of a sensation as the clear twitchin’ mess that Gojo and his length had turned into—babbling, gasping, sobbing as he runs his fat cock raw on your velvety walls. Fucking raw.

You were going to make him an actual DILF.

“Y-you’re gonna get it now…” It’s the last thing he’s getting out before a flood of white sap enters your tight cunt. Getting absolutely drenched from the inside. “When have I ever forgone you of a gift, my girl?”

“Never—” You’re keening out. Rushes of pleasure start up between your legs- before crackling through your veins and ultimately ending up at your brain.

Hazy and startling at the feeling of him fucking you through both your highs. Thrust after thrust. Gush after gush of both pleasure n’ his milky-white cum. 

Underneath the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm; you can feel his spurts of cum start to trickle between your legs. It was just as warm as your skin was getting, and creating a little puddle beneath you that Gojo takes one looks at and gasps- 

“Now now, are you wasting your gift, sweetheart—?” He cocks his head, genuinely ruined. 

“N-no?”

“Or do I just have to- heh, regift it to you again?”

“Shut up.”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Ms. Babysitter.

“We have to be quiet, angel- fuck. Fuck.” Higuruma’s voice sounded ragged—

Ruined. Nothing but carnal desire creeping up into the edges of his tone; giving you a jolt, considering that you’ve known the older man to be nothing but utterly calm and collected.

He was one of the best parents that you babysat for. 

One of your college friends had recommended you for the job - the hot lawyer in your neighborhood needed someone to look after his young daughter whilst he worked long nights? You were agreeing before you’d even heard the hours, you can’t deny—and despite how hasty of a decision it had been, you thoroughly enjoyed working under Higuruma Hiromi.

And being under Higuruma Hiromi…though that didn’t come until a few weeks after you’d been employed. 

The first night, you’d barely seen him. Dark hair. Dark circles.

The main thing you remember was that he looked exhausted—and some strange part of you was actually enticed by the hard-working man. Especially when he was such a gentleman…

Fuck, that suit fit him so well.

He addressed you oh-so-respectfully; unlike some parents who were tempted to treat you like a live-in server. Hands behind his back. Jet-black eyes to himself as he gave you a two-minute tour around the house- you’d been thoroughly enjoying yourself admiring his broad shoulders in that suit, when a sudden call from the office meant your tour had to be paused. 

Higuruma had pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. He’d sighed.

And he was out that door before you could even confirm bedtime- which hadn’t been too much of a problem, to be honest. His daughter was extremely well-behaved and didn’t hesitate to let you know. 

She also didn’t hesitate to let you know that her dad was very, very single.

You let her stay up just a liiittle past her bedtime. 

And then the second night, he’d apologized for his hastiness - telling you that a recent case had them fighting to prepare before the court deadline, and there’d just been so many fucking tax audits to go through.

You nodded like you understood. But what really intrigued you was when he’d told you that his daughter had just loved having you over. Though a part of you was simply satisfied that you did your job well (buttered popcorn and K-pop Demon Hunters wins again!), you can’t deny that it made your heart…flutter hearing it from the older man like this. 

It made you realize that you had a little crush.

So of course, you made him a regular.

And the pay was so good that you were able to weed out your other clients to focus predominantly on Higuruma and his bizarre babysitting schedule (some nights he worked until 3AM…)—you guessed the overtime was paying off. 

Though your interactions were limited mostly to the brief conversations before and after- though you never did cross your boundaries. That all came to a head when one night - about a month or two into your babysitting gig - Higuruma suddenly perked up after a late night at the office. It was 3:31AM when he quietly let himself inside the house, sighing as he finally tugged off his tie.

It was 3:32AM by the time you got up off the couch and offered him some cookies you’d made with his daughter in the morning.

3:40AM when he suddenly remembered- and suggested resuming that house tour you didn’t get to finish. And though you’d been a bit hesitant—for nothing other than the fact that you might wake his sleeping daughter up, he promised that the two of you would be quiet.

Then, finally, 3:47AM when he was telling you to be quiet in bed-

“Wouldn’t wanna wake her up, hm?” The prominent outline of his nose runs down the side of your throat - and it makes you shiver. Fuck, you always have thought that that was one of the most handsome parts of him. 

A soft moan strangles in your throat as he slots his thickened tip between your folds—feeling it like this, your mind’s reeling with the question of how the fuck he’s going to fit like this.

Higuruma always did strike you as the type of man to be big; but this was enough to make your mouth water and your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull. From here, you were feeling at least seven or eight inches of his erection, furiously hot, wrapped in throbbing red veins and having the most luscious precum dripping out from top. He seemed hard enough to fucking ruin you - just how you wanted it. 

And as if reading your mind, Higuruma runs his slippery wet tip down your pussylips, and trundles in his low tone. “Are you sure you want to do it? We don’t have to rush into anything if you don’t want-”

“I do.” Cutting him off mid-sentence.

Although by the way that Higuruma’s stern lips were quirking up ever-so-slightly—you’re taking it to mean that he didn’t exactly mind. He keeps one hand underneath your ass, so that you can be pushed up into his roverin’ hips, and his other one caresses your cheek softly. “Hm, is that so…? Then I guess what I meant to say is…can you take every single inch, sugar?”

You gulp. Your eyes dart down nervously to his twitchin’, throbbing length. “Yes.”

And you’ve never been more sure of anything.

Higuruma merely horses out - “Then buckle up, angel.”

Before you know it, his round, ruddied tip is probin’ inside. Sifting your gluey walls from side-to-side before spreading you up so maddeningly open.

He spots your sweet areas with a few dollops of pre- as soon as Higuruma found himself inside you, he was fighting back whimpers of pleasure. The older man’s achin’ cock doing all the talking for him as he shovels his way in—

“Sh-shit.” Your eyes sprint to the back of your head as you take him. “Shit, you’re so big-”

The way you’re moving your hips around as though confused whether to buck right down or make him ease up- it’s just so cute. And he plants a reassuring hand on the side of your waist, “Easy now.” Higuruma hushes out, “Eeeeeeasy, angel. You can take it for me.”

“Right there—” You keen out as his flared tip rubs along your g-spot.

And although he knows what you meant, that doesn’t stop Higuruma from throwing you a ravishing smirk. Letting his second hand run down your core- “No, sugar. Right here.” He pushes down right where he knew your womb would be - that soft pressure making your walls clench around him wildly, until you could feel every throb of his engorged tip even in your brain. “And you’re gonna take it f’me, right?” 

Jostling you hard with every thrust—so that you’re nodding away. Almost pathetically. 

“Mhm…exactly what I thought.” He coos - so lovingly thrusting away between your quiverin’ legs. Higuruma’s skin slap-slap-slaps against yours at a steady pace, “Just a few more inches now—keep quiet, please.”

“I’m t-trying.” Gnawing down on your lower lip. “How many more?”

“Ah, just one inch…two…” And after a prolonged thrust- so deep that you swear you’re feeling it in your throat, Higuruma cracks a grin. “Maybe more.”

Five more?

Five more?

And you were already on the verge of being fucked absolutely stupid? You’re letting a groan escape you—lewd and louder than you intended- and before the realization hits you, Higuruma himself swiftly reaches over to where his work tie had been dangling off the side of the bed. Bunching it up, shoving it between those pretty lips - he couldn’t have anyone waking up now, could he?

And that’s exactly what he’s telling you: “C’mon, angel…” Shoves getting deeper and longer. Rougher- as he rams his thickened inches past where you don’t think anyone’s ever gone before. And throughout it all, the older man was so steady with you—“C’mon- c’mon. You can do this—fuuuuuck, you can do this. This pussy’s gonna take all of me, right?”

Nodding and nodding.

“Yeah? Because you’re my goooood girl, right? Taking me so well.” He continues rasping - tone pitching higher and higher as he goes on. “My good- fucking- girl—”

“O-oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“You’re my goooooood fucking girl, huh?” The stubs of his five o’ clock shadow rub up against your skin. The deeper he thrusts, the hotter his body seems to become on top of yours. More and more. “Can you count how many inches m’putting in you?”

Tears flow down your eyes, “Y-yes- mmpf.” Somehow managing past the tie. “Ah- four? Five. Six.”

Higuruma’s eyes widen.

“Seven—” Your voice seems like it’s on the verge of cracking. “Eight.”

It’s just too adorable how you’re sweetly attempting to respond to him even with the gag in. And Higuruma can’t help himself as he leans in and kisses you through the tie.

It’s hot and it’s messy.

And it ends up with him smiling against your stuffed lips, “Finally bottomed-out.”

Hazily, you’re blinking a few times. It clears your vision enough for you to jerk your head down and see that it was indeed true, Higuruma had stuffed himself inside your pussy until his thick base was kissin’ your pussylips. Just the most innocent peck.

“And now…” Except…fuck, except he was reeling right back again. “-for the fun part.”

Right back until that rounded tip stretched your hole out.

Right back inside-

“Makes me wanna put a baby in you- I swear. Taking me like this.” 

A/N. TONY’S BACK.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[onelime]

only talking to sukuna's stomach mouth when he pisses you off

Sukuna’s developed an irritating habit. Whenever he’s fed up with you, or whenever he doesn’t want to entertain one of your questions, he’ll simply stay quiet and gesture towards his stomach. It’s kind of like saying ‘talk to the hand’. But in his case, it’s ‘talk to the stomach mouth’. 

Then his stomach mouth will shoot you this wide, smug grin, like it’s more than happy to converse with you. And you’ll just toss up your hands and groan, annoyed that your husband won’t even bother to speak with you face to face. 

But recently you've taken Sukuna up on his offer, turning the tables to give him the silent treatment while still chatting away with his stomach. Because Sukuna underestimated just how much that mouth of his likes to rile someone up. Even if it’s the rest of his body. 

Now, Sukuna’s lounging on the bed, limbs draped carelessly along the mattress. He’s trying to feign indifference. Trying to pretend he’s unphased by the fact that you haven’t spoken to him in four whole days. 

But you know better. You see the slight clench in his jaw, the scowl that deepens on his face each time he steals a look your way. He watches as you sit by the window, gazing at the scenery outside. 

When the silence stretches on longer than he can bear, Sukuna sets his pride aside to clear his throat and ask, “Are you still doing this?” 

You don’t even spare him a glance, continuing to look out the window. “Middle Mouth,” you say, “will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I have no idea what he’s talking about?”

Sukuna scoffs in disbelief, but that mouth of his flashes its teeth and singsongs, “Sukunaaaa. She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I heard you,” Sukuna huffs, speaking to you instead of his stomach.

He hates this whole situation. Hates that you're not speaking with him. Hates that you’ve given his stomach mouth a nickname. And he hates that the mouth is entertaining it at all. 

 His jaw clenches once more, and he sighs before saying, “You’re ignoring me.” 

He’s not wrong. For almost a week, you’ve been avoiding your husband, refusing to interact or even look at any part of him other than his stomach maw. But despite all of his sulking and sour moods, you act as if nothing is amiss.

“Middle Mouth, will you please inform the rest of Sukuna that I am not ignoring him. You and I just had a lovely conversation, didn’t we?”

“Sukunaaaa,” the mouth singsongs again. “She isn’t ignoring you…well, me.” That grin returns, and you can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Why didn’t you start speaking with your husband’s stomach mouth sooner? He really is entertaining.

“Stop that. Don’t humor her,” Sukuna scolds.

“Middle Mouth, you can converse with me as you please.”

“I intend to,” his maw replies. 

Sukuna’s eyes narrow, but he’s not sure whether to direct his glare at you or his abdomen. “How long do you intend to keep up these antics?”

You brush an imaginary piece of lint from your clothes and say, "Middle Mouth, please inform the rest of Sukuna that I’m still waiting on a proper apology from him." 

“I’m warning you, do not–”

“Sukunaaaa. She is waiting for a proper apology from you.”

Sukuna stares murderously down at his lower half. He’s finally met his match. The only ‘enemy’ that he can’t silence by force. Himself. 

And secretly, you think that he slightly enjoys that you’re speaking with his stomach mouth. It shows him that despite this silent treatment, you still desire some form of communication with him. 

So he’ll put up with the teasing, the inside jokes, and the fact that his wife is being stolen by his own body.

You decide to press your luck a little bit further, and say something you know will send your husband over the edge. “Middle Mouth–”

“Not again,” Sukuna groans, tossing his head back.

“Do you remember what I told you? What we talked about last night?”

“What?!?" Sukuna demands, sitting up abruptly and sending the covers around him flying.

“Oh, I remember,” his maw says, immediately grinning and playing into it. 

“Well, I was thinking about it and–”

“Why are you speaking with my wife at night?”

“Our wife. And what we discuss during late hours does not concern you.” 

“Anyways, as I was telling you, Middle Mouth, before I was rudely interrupted–”

“No. This ends now."

In seconds, Sukuna’s beside you, all 7 feet of him towering over you intimidatingly. He rubs a hand across his jaw, like he has to physically force the words out of his mouth. “I.. apologize for not answering when you asked me which of my cocks I urinate from.”

“…”

“The answer is both of them.”

Immediately, your mood lifts. You turn away from the window, smiling and facing your husband like nothing was ever wrong. “Apology accepted.” And then to his stomach mouth, “We’ll continue our conversation later.” 

a/n: idk why the mouth is referring to him in third person...js to be annoying ig lol

[fagsromana]

filled with lust for some fucking guy

[belimah]

↑↑↑ The fucking guy in question ↑↑↑

[yoonsucks]

JJK! men as dog hybrids ˚.🦴

Cast: Choso, Gojo, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Naoya Content: They call reader MISTRESS, Sniffing, panty stealing, scenting, p eating/licking, d jerking, growling, light slapping, short smut for a few of them, not proofread

Puppy adoption program! You never really wanted a pet, an animal to share your space. But your close friend Shoko offered you to join a hybrid adoption program… for free? Just had to sign a shit ton of paperwork? Who wouldn't say no to a hot roommate…. with dog ears and a tail?!!!

Your pups!

Choso, Bloodhound

Height: 190cm

Age: Early 20s (no information given on the documents)

Very closed off, introverted and seemingly nonchalant the first month of taking him in. He silently listened to your commands, if he wants to go out for a walk together he'll silently take his leash and stand near you with it in his hands until you notice.

But the more comfortable he gets around you….. he's like a damn leech, nuzzling your hair, neck while you stand and cook, cuddle up next to you on the couch, a floppy ear and his black hair buried against your collarbone. A sweet, big boy that just liked being in your presence, asking for affection.

His sense of smell is a bit scary. He could basically smell when you were in a bad mood, he knew when your period was about to start, knew how long you had slept for. Who had touched you at work-

But his favourite smell is at night, when you masturbate with your fingers or toys.

His room was only a wall between yours. So the scent and faint sounds of you trying not to moan filled his ears and nose as if he was right next to you.

Sometimes when you fall asleep after the pleasure session, you're waken up by someone padding into the room, the sound of a tail swishing back and forth. And a tall, innocent looking Choso standing at the edge of your bed.

"Hi, Chos… did you have a nightmare again? It's okay, we can cuddle."

You easily make room for him. He often lied and said he couldn't sleep because of a bad dream. Such a bad boy. All he really wanted was to be close to you so he could smell your musk and previous arousal. You let him come hold on to you while you tried to dose off to sleep… Unaware of why he kept coming to you at such a convenient time right after cumming in your panties.

But then he was nosing your neck, your jaw, starting to move down to scent at your chest.

It seemed cute, your hands gently running trough his messy, dark hair. But then he whined. And dark, chocolate eyes were staring up at you from your chest, looking like he was about to plead.

And he did.

"Mistress… can i lick you?"

"Lick me? Sure." you laughed, assuming he just wanted to lick your skin, eyes shutting again.

But then he whimpered again when you misunderstood him, one of his large hands finding its way between your thighs, tugging on your sleep shorts, tail thumping against the mattress, his nose scrunching a bit.

"Lick… here, can I taste, please?" God, drool was already dripping down his chin, his hips grinding against your leg, you could feel his poor cock trying to find some friction.

You cooed down at him, shifting to lay back onto your pillows, giving him scratches behind his ear. You couldn't say no to him.

"Such a naughty boy, alright, just this once."

He moved so fast- suddenly between your thighs, legs tossed over his shoulders, panting against your clothed cunt. You could feel his large tongue lapping at your sweet scent through the shorts. He was so cute. So needy.

Choso's hands were already tugging down your shorts ( with permission from his Mistress, of course) for more.

Satoru, Siberian Husky

Height: 193cm

Age:28

Immediately was all over you the moment he saw you coming to pick him up from the hybrid care centre, his tail wagging almost like some propellor. His curious blue eyes and small howls and barks suddenly surrounded your daily life.

He was fairly active, sometimes you'd find him working out in the living room, grunting while doing some push ups, shirtless. Of course.

You had noticed that he had a lovely, white happy trail running down from his lower abdomen and disappearing in his sweatpants. I mean all of his body hair was white, maybe a bit grey? You tried not to ogle him too much.

But Satoru liked that, walking around shirtless or just in his boxers sometimes. He loved your attention on him, his ears always pointed to the direction of you.

He was shameless, always dragging you with him if he tried to run around at the park, demanded sweets and pets if he thought he had been a good boy.

He was far from it, but you forgave him.

His favourite activity? Scenting you. And dry humping your thigh. Or maybe your ass? Both.

You tried to lay down to read a book, he was on you, grinning down at you as he straddled your thigh, a hard print through his sweatpants as he ground down.

If you tried to ignore him, he'd whine, pull at your shirt to make you watch him, try to bite your book or pull at your hair for you to notice him.

"Mistressssss! Look at me! Watch me! Don't you love me?" He whined in a mock needy tone, a sly grin on his face.

You just sighed, focusing your eyes on him.

Sometimes you just help him, pressing your thigh up against his throbbing cock. Sometimes you just roll your eyes and wait for him to cum in his sweatpants. And then scold him about dirtying fresh laundry.

But he never learns, does he?

Nanami, Saint Bernard

Height: 184cm

Age: 27 (thought he looks and acts like he's older)

A gentle giant. A respectful man. You almost forgot he was a hybrid, if it wasn't for his tail and dirty blonde furred ears that get hidden by his hair sometimes.

He knew how to cook, clean, never bothered you.

You took him on walks, he didn't even need a leash since he was so well behaved.

You often gave him head pats and rubbed his back after a long day, his body a comfortable weight on top of yours. Such a good boy.

But… where had all of your favourite pairs of panties gone? And a few tank tops? A shoe? Just one?

Obviously you ask him where they are, he gives you a gentle smile, shaking his head and saying he hadn't seen them.

Hmmmmmm…. But his tail nervously flicked around.

"Kento, let me in your room."

He looked a bit surprised you didn't believe him. But being a good boy, he let you into his bedroom. A nervous sweat building on his temple.

You rummaged through his closet… nothing, under the bed, nothing.

Under his pillows? Bingo.

All of the aforementioned items looked like he used them daily, panties stuck together.

"Nanami, explain yourself." you picked up the cluster, waving it around in his face.

"Mistress…" His handsome face seemed to grow bashful, watching you sway the cum covered underwater around, but he couldn't find the words to explain himself.

"Bad boy. I think you deserve punishment. For lying and hiding my damn undies."

The blonde hybrid tried not to pout, which was a comical look on such a usually mature looking guy.

"Mistress…" he murmured again, tail slowly swaying. "You have to understand, i just… sleep better with your scent near me." His deep voice started to sound a lot more puppy like.

"Nanami, this is covered in… your cum."

You rubbed your forehead with your free hand while he cowered.

Punishment was due.

Nanami did as you said, laid down on his bed, you sitting on top of his middle.

The dirty, lacy fabric shoved in his mouth, his ears flat, but his tail wagged underneath him, the taste of himself and you filling his senses.

"Don't make a sound, or I'll think of something worse."

A light smack to his cheek.

He grunted.

You climbed off of him, a hand pushing his pants down, jerking his throbbing cock with no warning.

His hands twitched at his sides, hips lifting to try and fuck into your palm, a soft groan leaving his mouth, though muffled.

You gave him a look, hand pausing.

"Nanami, don't move. Be a good boy and take it."

An hour… or maybe two? it was hard to say. You edged him, pausing and waiting for him to calm down before continuing.

Nanami was a patient hybrid, but his nerves were yelling at him.

"Miissthuures.." he tried to call, doing his best to keep the panties in his mouth.

But you just sighed, reaching a hand up and shoving a few fingers between his lips to shut him up.

Toji, Doberman

Height: 188cm

Age: 32

An older hybrid, you weren't really sure why he even was in the program, but something about him not having a proper owner for most of his life melted your heart and you couldn't help but take in this… hunk of a man.

Toji was lazy, lounging on every comfortable surface, he liked to go for runs or work out in the backyard by himself. He didn't rely on you too much. He might give you a grin or sarcastic remark. But he didn't interact much with you too.

"Do i really have to wear this shit? It's pink." He complained as you put a collar around him.

"Toji, you don't get to make demands." You sighed, reaching up to try and pet his hair. But he pulled away and bared his teeth, growling, ears standing up straight.

You lowered your hand, glad he at least had allowed as much as putting on the collar.

"C'mon, it's not that bad."

"Whatever."

He was like this for a good while, not letting you touch him unless it was necessary.

But one day, you had gone on a date with some other person, leaving Toji at home. You didn't think nothing much of it, not like he seemed to like you much anyways.

But the moment you came home and took your jacket off, the big man was all over you, pulling you against his chest, grumbling while using his scent gland on the side of his neck to cover you, strong arms and rough hands gripping your dress.

"Who?"

"What do you mean 'who', Toji, i told you I'd go out today to see someone."

His hand founds its way under the skirt of your dress. "I can smell that you fucked someone."

"What- Toji, get off." You scoffed. trying to push at his arms. He listened and loosened his grip, hands falling to his sides, but he looked pissed.

"Why do you care so much, you don't even speak to me most of the time." You pointed out while fixing your outfit.

"You're my mate, nobody else can touch you."

"What?"

Why was he speaking in riddles. Has he really hid his possessiveness and claim over you and the space you lived in all this time?

"Mate."

"Toji…"

His tail lashed around, stepping forward and hugging you again. But you didn't shove him away, your own arms hugging him back, sensing that he needed comfort, something you had never expected from him.

"….not fair, I want to breed you too…"

"WHAT?"

Naoya, chihuahua

Height:181cm

Age:27

Naoya cursed his mother, his father, the universe. His breed of hybrid was a damn toy dog. Nobody took him seriously. But his ego didn't care. For a confident and annoying man, the little tail and small ears parting his hair didn't help his image.

Maybe that's why he was in the program.

He hated you the moment he met you. He wanted some important, high status man as his owner.

He didn't like what you cooked, hated what you wore. A total brat about everything.

You let him get used to your apartment and his new life for about a month before finally having enough and being stern with him.

He was standing, glaring at some squirrel outside of the window, growling. "Stupid creature… how dare you come close to my living quarters."

"Naoya! Come here." Your voice called him from the kitchen.

He was in trouble. But he just scoffed and waltzed into the room, flipping his bangs back almost dramatically.

"What is it, woman?"

"Did you chew this?" A sad looking plush dangled in your fingers. It was yours. From your bedroom.

"Tch, yes I did. My teeth need to be stimulated." He grinned, showing off his canines.

"Bad boy." You frowned, setting the plushie down.

He looked confused, you hadn't scolded him before.

"As if I care."

"That's it. Come here, on your knees." You pointed to the tile floor between your shoes.

"I'm not about to grovel-"

"Naoya. Sit."

His tail wagged in annoyance, ears flickering but he walked over, making a show of folding down and sitting on his knees, looking up at you.

"…. i didn't do anything wrong anyways. This is ridiculous…" He muttered, looking away.

You grabbed his hair, tugging his head back to face you.

He let out a whimper, looking pitiful like this.

"What the hell!"

"You want to use your mouth to destroy shit? I have an idea for what you can do with it." You glared down at him, fingers tangling more securely in his blonde locks.

He wanted to protest, but the look in your eyes made him hesitate. His instincts making him want to cower.

His short tail flicked behind him a few times.

You tugged his face between your thighs, his eyes going wide… but he didn't look like he minded all of a sudden. His hands sliding up the backs of your thighs. His eyes tried to glare at you, but he nuzzled up into your lovely smelling crotch.

"Mmm… is this supposed to be punishment?" he looked like he was about to grin.

Your other hand lightly smacked his cheek and then pushed your jeans down, stepping forward and tugging his head up by his hair, making his nose rub against your clit through your panties.

"Shut up and get to work, or I'm dying your hair pink and blue."

He looked panicked and immediately got to work, tongue lapping at the already dampening fabric, eyes still glaring but he didn't want to risk it.

You spread your thighs wider, using the hand that wasn't pulling on his hair to slide the fabric to the side. Giving him better access. He looked like a proper pup now, between his owners legs, lapping at the delicious juices… but he didn't dare stop, trying to get his tongue up and inside, past the first ring of muscle.

He whined like some small dog, hands grabbing into your ass to smush you harder onto his mouth.

He's actually really pretty like this, shutting up for once.

Sukuna, wolfdog

Height: 200cm

Age: this section on the information sheets is crossed out and rewritten so many times its a blank ink blob

An aggressive hybrid mix of a gray wolf and some other domestic breed. An illegal hybrid, a rare one too. They weren't on the market as pets since they often were more wolf than dog. They were stronger, faster, violent if irked.

You're not sure why Shoko even offered him to you. But after seeing some pictures of him... you just had to have him.

At first he had to wear a muzzle that had a lock with a key in the back, you holding the key. But after gaining his trust, you only put it on him when you went for walks.

He glared at you, his pink hair messy, tail always stiff and alert.

If someone walked past your front door or even close to the territory of your house, he was growling, trying to find any intruders.

But he hadn't done much damage to your home yet, besides scratch up the back of his bedrooms door with claws, chew trough a few pillows and couch cushions, maybe pissed in your bathrooms sink. But you didn't have to know that one.

One day he was asleep, on your bed. Who knows why. You had just finished with laundry and wanted to go do something in your bedroom. And there he was, spread out on your fresh covers.

You walked up to him, finally getting a good look at his face and the parts of his body that weren't covered by a shirt or boxing shorts. He had scars all over... not to mention dark tattoos swirling across his arms and face.

You were pretty stupid and lightly touched the crown like one on his forehead, just wanting to brush his hair away to look.

Sukuna's eyes shot open, immediately grabbing your hand, teeth baring, a growl escaping his throat. But once he realized it was just his foolish owner he let go and grunted, rolling over on his side.

"Get the fuck away from me, i'll bite ya face off next time... idiot."

Another day, it was sunny and the middle of summer. You had went swimming with him at the local lake. Everything was fine, but this mutt had decided that rolling around in some bushes and dirty after you had already left the lake was a genius idea.

Now here you were, a grumpy wolfdog Sukuna, barely fitting in your bathtub, surrounded by bubbles as you washed him off.

It would have been cute if it wasn't... him.

You allowed yourself to finally give him some affection, scratching behind his ears while shampooing his pink hair.

And his wet tail started to wag. It made you so giddy, instantly rubbing at his ears.

But it seemed like he had had enough.

SPLASH!

You were pulled into the cramped tub, water spilling over. Your clothes were wet as you were laying on top of a naked, blushy, angry looking Sukuna.

"Do that again and i'll-" he was about to bark at you, hands gripping onto your hips. But then he realized what position you were in.

A sly grin spread on his face, shoving you closer to his chest.

"You should take a bath with me, for touching my ears like that."

You squeaked, trying to climb back out, but his hands were already tearing your shirt off.

Yoon's notes: UGHH I LOVE WRITING HYBIDSSUUHH Reupload from my old account @/yoonsucksalot ! but redone a bit hihih HUGE MEGA DRIPPING WET THANKS TO @liliklei @yorikae !!!

masterlist

tags: @s0me1n3w @liliklei @blu-goingdark @tojiscreampie @venusins @darlingbambii @whispers-of-aurora @xqce @cactusvolumes @deartoru @sxno0 @yeschefcarm @peachygelic @puppyrawpawz @sxpernova666 @dustypepsi @izeizebaby @Imbetter111 @stellarixe @deftoneslut @cherrys-wrld @itstotallynotbrina @mimiiis @yorikae @astutetwilight @ghonegh0stwrit3r @1cckedheart @kissmatz @sxpernova @peachifying @Velvetdiary @mshkcdies @man1cslut @oreoenjoyer67 @wholemeltt @Velvetdiary @mshkcdies @0-lalalalala

૮( ˃ ꒳ ˂)ა ᵃʳᶠ ᵃʳᶠ

[opalwyn-deactivated20260524]

Call It Whatever You Want.

Sukuna refuses to call you his. But the moment someone else tries to—he suddenly has a problem with it.

A/N: you aint my boyfriend and i aint ur girlfriend, okay if u couldnt tell i got inspo from the song boyfriend from ari and social house. OOO yes if u want, listen to anointed by miguel at the partay scene golly gosh that had me going coo coo bonkers i was giggling and everything, and then i realised im such a flipping chud so i stopped giggling my bum off asap and locked tf in. Anywho this one is pretty short but enjoy my lil kyuties ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

Art: @/patty.i on insta go eat it up yall

Sukuna never asked you to be his. But somehow you still ended up acting like you were.

It starts with small things.

Late night texts. Showing up without warning. His jacket tossed over the back of your chair like it belongs there.

Your phone buzzes softly against the counter.

You home.

You stare at the message for a moment. No greeting. No question mark. Just the assumption that you will.

Yeah.

Three dots appear instantly.

Open the door.

A knock follows seconds later.

When you open it, Ryomen Sukuna leans against the frame like he’s been there all night. His presence fills the doorway before he even speaks, the air around him heavy with his warm, spicy cologne.

His eyes flick over you once. Assessing. “Thought you were asleep.”

“Bruh, you literally texted me.”

He hums, brushing past you without waiting for an invitation. His hand lingers briefly on the small of your back as he passes, pressing just enough to claim the space.

You shut the door behind him. “You’re going to start paying rent at this point."

Sukuna stretches on the couch, arms draped across the back, leaning just enough toward you to fill the space. The faint scrape of his fingers against the leather sounds like he’s everywhere at once.

“You’d miss me.”

You roll your eyes, but neither of you argues with it.

─────────────────────

Weeks pass like that.

Late nights. Shared silences. His hand rests on your waist as you move around the kitchen, fingers brushing the curve of your hip, teasingly lingering when you reach for the coffee. When you walk together, he closes the space between you, shoulder brushing yours, standing slightly behind or beside you in a way that silently says: I’m here. I’m yours.

Sometimes he waits for you after lectures, leaning against the gate with that lazy, half smirk of his, arms crossed, watching everyone pass. You see him, and your stomach twists because he’s been there long before you arrived. His gaze locks on you, dark and calculating, a quiet warning to anyone who dares get too close.

You share the couch and steal blankets, half tangled around him while the other half barely covers you. Sometimes he drapes himself across you, hand brushing lightly down your arm or against your thigh—not intrusive, but claiming the space you occupy.

When he’s relaxed, lying back on the couch, you let your fingers wander over his tattoos, tracing the lines along his face and chest. Each line and mark feels almost magnetic under your touch, and he hums low, letting you do it, thumb occasionally brushing your hand like he’s claiming both you and the movement. His chest rises and falls steadily beneath your fingers, and you swear you can feel the slight smirk in the way he adjusts his position, making sure your hand lingers exactly where he wants it.

Sometimes you fall asleep in his bed after an argument you didn’t finish—bodies pressed together, the quiet between you louder than any words. Other times, you wake up tangled in his arms, hair brushing his chest, fingers clutching his shirt without realizing it. His hand curls around your wrist, thumb tracing small, slow circles that leave you distracted before your first thought of the day.

You notice his habits without thinking: How he leans a fraction closer when someone else gets too near. The way he smirks when you try to tease him back. The “tch” or scoff of annoyance that makes your pulse quicken. Pressing his forehead to yours in the morning, claiming the first moment of your day. Teasing gestures like “Oops, that’s my spot now” paired with a tilt of his head, daring you to argue.

Almost like a couple.

But no labels.

No promises.

And the tension of it… it’s almost unbearable.

─────────────────────

Tonight, the frat house is crowded. Music pulses, bass vibrating faintly through the floor. People move around you, drinks in hand, laughter spilling over conversations.

You pause near the entrance, scanning the room.

Across the living room, Ryomen Sukuna leans lazily against the back of a couch, looking entirely too comfortable. A couple girls crowd around him, laughing a little too loudly at whatever he just said.

One of them rests a hand on his arm. Another leans in closer, fingers brushing his shoulder.

He lets them.

Your jaw tightens.

Then his eyes find you. Instantly. Like he’d known exactly where you were the entire time.

For a moment neither of you moves. Across the room, through flashing lights and shifting bodies, he just watches you.

And then he smirks.

Slow. Knowing.

Like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do.

The girl beside him is still talking, fingers resting lightly on his arm. Sukuna doesn’t move them away.

His gaze stays on you. Unbothered. Almost… amused.

You roll your eyes.

Typical.

You turn away before he can read anything else on your face and make your way to the kitchen counter, adjusting the hem of your mini black off shoulder dress, the fabric hugging your waist and tight at your hips. Gold open toe heels click softly against the floor, gold hoops swaying with the tilt of your head. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflective surface of the fridge—makeup done, tense shoulders, slightly flushed from the alcohol.

You reach the fridge and pull it open, the cool light spilling across the counter as you grab a drink.

“Careful with that one” a voice says.

You glance up.

A guy leans against the counter, smiling. “Trust me. It’s stronger than it looks.”

You huff a small laugh. “I’ll take my chances.”

The guy laughs, leaning closer so you can hear over the music. “So… what brings you here alone?”

You shrug. “Just needed a drink and a break from… life.”

He smirks. “I get that. Same here.”

You start chatting more freely, laughing at something he says. For a moment, it feels easy. Light. Normal.

He leans in, lowering his voice. “You know, you’ve got that… energy. Makes people want to talk to you.”

You can’t help but smile, feeling a flutter you haven’t felt in a while.

Then a familiar scent hits you before you see him—warm, spicy, impossible to ignore.

Sukuna

A pair of arms slide around your waist from behind.

Warm. Firm. Familiar.

Your breath hitches.

His broad chest presses against your back, the sheer size of him almost swallowing you as he pulls you closer. One hand settles lightly on your stomach while the other grazes your hip, fingers brushing the edge of your dress as he anchors you against him. The fabric shifts under his grip, lifting fractionally as you instinctively steady yourself on your heels, the soft click against the floor betraying the movement.

He isn’t looking at you. His eyes lock on the guy across from you. Calm. Unblinking. Measuring.

Slowly, he dips his head, nose brushing the side of your neck before settling into the crook. His breath ghosts warm against your skin, fingers tightening just enough to anchor you. The gentle sway of your gold hoops brushes against him with every shallow inhale you take.

The guy stiffens.

“Oh—uh. Sorry, man, I didn’t know—”

“No” you interrupt, shifting. “We’re not—”

“Yeah” Sukuna interrupts smoothly, voice low. “You should go.”

The guy hesitates, mutters “Right… my bad,” and disappears into the crowd. You turn inside Sukuna’s arms, looking up at him. “You’re impossible”

He looks down at you like nothing happened.

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

His eyes flick over your face slowly, and he lets out a light scoff.

You push lightly at his chest. “Stop acting like you own me.”

For a moment he just watches you. Then he pulls you in closer by the waist. The hem of your dress rides up slightly before he reaches behind you to pull it back down in place.“You want a boyfriend?”

His thumb drags slowly along your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. "That what this is about?”

You don’t answer.

His eyes darken.

“Tch.”

“Greedy.”

For a second, neither of you moves. The music and chatter fade behind you, but the space between you feels heavy.

Sukuna hums softly, hand sliding back down to the small of your back. Fingers settle there like they never left, pressing against the curve of your back and making the hem of your dress lift a fraction higher, brushing the top of your thigh. You shift slightly on your heels, heels clicking softly against the floor as he adjusts his hold, keeping you close.

“And yet,” he murmurs, leaning closer, “you still let me do this.”

Your breath catches when he pulls you a fraction closer.

“Doesn’t really sound like you want a boyfriend” he says lazily.

Slowly, he dips his head, bending easily to reach your neck, his nose brushing the side of it before settling into the crook.

He trails light kisses along your neck—the same way he’s done a thousand times before. Practiced. Claiming. So familiar it makes your stomach twist.

You inhale sharply, his spicy cologne mixing with the soft sweetness of your vanilla perfume, making your head spin.

“Sounds like you just want me.” His lips brush the shell of your ear, voice low and teasing.

“Go ahead… say you’re leaving me.”

You don’t.

And he smiles.

Because he already knows you won’t.

[sweethearticism]

──── 𝓢.𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐓! ₎ა ˙˖

gojo satoru loves spoiling his pretty, high maintenance brat and her attitude problem. so after a long day of giving him lip, he finally has enough in the fitting room of yet another boutique he wanted to spoil you in.

⌗ wc :: 3.9k

♡ ₊˚‧ cws. age gap ( 40s/20s ) :: smut :: public sex :: brat taming :: mirror sex :: thigh grinding :: praise :: slight degradation :: edging :: orgasm denial :: overstimulation :: fingering :: clit play :: clothed-sex :: riding :: p in v :: rough sex :: creampie

♡ ₊˚‧ sweetheart. preview of this one shot below. find the full fic on my patreon.

Gojo Satoru was many things. A genius, a billionaire, a man of limitless charisma and charming looks.

But what he wasn't? Patient.

"Whining now? After all that lip?"

You whimper at the sting blossoming over your thigh. His calloused thumb rubbed a condescending apology over the spot. Sharp sapphires glance at you from over the rim of his sunglasses. The same looking he gave you earlier when you kept testing your luck.

"Woah, what's with that attitude, sweetheart?"

His stupidly attractive grin served to frustrate you further as you brushed him off and pushed yourself into the passenger seat of his slim, black sports car.

You'd been giving him mouth all day since he picked you up from classes. Little comments. Snide remarks. Huffing your cheeks and rolling your eyes at everything he said. Exam stress did that to you. Fashioned you into a little, high maintenance brat.

"Nothing. Can we just go?"

His pale hand coursed shivers up your thigh as he reached over the centre console for it. The small squeeze was more than just comfort.

A warning.

"Sure you don't wanna talk about it, sweet girl?"

That was the match to the gasoline.

"No— I told you I'm fine."

You shrugged his hand off. Folded your arms and huffed as you diverted your stare out the window. Waiting for the car to inevitably start.

When it didn't, and your shoulders tensed instinctively, was when you cast him the slightest side-eye. Only to see those bright blues staring back at you.

Colder. Sliced over the rim of his shades. A pale brow arched in a look that you knew all too well.

Keep pushing it.

And oh, you absolutely did.

It's why you're here now. In the fitting room of some expensive boutique with your hands shaking in the creases of his black pants and your thighs quivering over his knee.

The mirror's reflection was sinful. Reminding you that you were here, pressed into your boyfriend's knee in a pretty, expensive outfit. A cute skirt scrunched up your thighs and a plain shirt that had no business being tagged with that many zeroes. It wrinkled under his big hands that roamed you from behind. Slithering across fabric and skin, but never once dipping below the waist. To where another girl with an attitude problem throbbed against his knee.

"Toru. . ." You whined, avoiding the mirror in front of you as you ground your hips down. Dragging the slick spot in your panties over that groove of his knee again. Trying to get the angle— mimic the pace— that perfect combination that almost got you there.

That was a minute ago.

"There she goes. Calling my name like she's a sweet girl."

He sighed, drawled and dramatically weary. He bounced his leg. Once— twice— just enough crook into the underside of your clit and throb it.

Just enough to stir a pitiful whimper from your glossy lips. Another brand you hadn't even known the name of before he came around. Spoiled you with more gifts and affection than you could ever dream of.

Didn't mean he took your bullshit, though.

"Hmm. . . but she's not a sweet girl, is she?" His breath fanned your neck. Lips brushing over your fluttering pulse and smearing a chapsticked-kiss into it. Firm hands seized on your thighs. Squeezed.

"She's just. . . a slutty lil' brat."

Spank!

You jolted at the second swat to your thighs. Exaggerated another whimper because that always got you back on his good side.

Not this time, it seemed.

Satoru leaned back into his seat on the bench. Head slumped on the white wall as he observed your sorry excuse for riding his knee. His legs spread and hands returned to roaming your tummy. Skimming your breasts. Pinching on your tit through your pink bra that he'd bought for you too. Something lacy and cheeky. A befitting gift for your birthday.

"Eyes on the mirror." His chide clicked to your ear. Hand squishing your breast and squeezing another whine out of you. "Watch yourself since you wanna prance around with a slutty little ego. Think you're such a big girl, huh? Prove it."

Your thighs clenched around his knee. Thickening the pressure of your pulsing clit and slicking slit as you needily shoved down. Trying to press firmer. Get the right friction.

"Toru— baby, please," batting teary lashes in the mirror, you hoped to appease that soft part in his heart that he reserved for you.

His brow arched. No dice.

Instead you rocked your hips down quicker. Searching to spasm your clit just enough. The heat was already pooling in your tummy. You were sure that you were soaking through both your panties and his pants. You just needed a little more. Needed him.

"I'm sorry," your lower lip quivered as you dug your manicured nails into his other knee. Another symbol of the way he spoiled you. "So so sorry— I just— hngh."

Your spine arched. Tits pressing further into his hand as he fondled with the softness. Drawn to even the smallest of touches in hopes it'd get you there. Ease the surging heat that twitched your needy cunt.

"Sorry now, huh?" The deepness of his chuckle looped your tummy. Thighs stuttering as one of his hands traced down. Fingers slithering over your thigh and dipping into the squishy centre. "Poor baby. Sorry just cause I'm teaching her some manners."

Your hands abandoned reason and shot into your skirt. Ruffling it up to clear a pathway for his cold touch tracing towards your drenched panties.

His laugh vibrated against your back as he leaned forward. Flushing his chest to your shoulders and watching your teary eyes through the mirror.

"Say it for me again, pretty." He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. "What're you?"

"Sorry!" You hiccuped, tensing your thighs and trying your damnedest not to buck into the sly finger that crooked into yours. Massaged on your clit in a maddening circle. A feather touch— and yet it was enough to spurt another filthy soak out of you.

"Sorry. 'm sorry— f-for being a brat. For giving you attitude." Reaching for his wrist, you clung above his silver watch and chewed on your glossy lip. Hoping to hold him there, rubbing your clit in slow, sanity-splintering strokes.

Your slick heat stained the pads of his fingers and he pressed harder. Scissoring your swollen bud between his middle and index, before sliding down in a lewd v-shape— only to stroke back up. Crook and torture on your poor clit that practically pulsed with whimpers.

Satoru hummed. Something low that crept into the heat pooling in your tummy and looped the knot tighter.

"Pretty girls with bad attitudes always make the cutest sounds." His other hand slipped beneath your shirt. Fished out one of your tits from your bra and circled his rough thumb on the pebbled nipple. Slow like his rubs between your trembling thighs.

"Fuck. . ." he breathed a chuckle as you squeezed around his hand reflexively. "I'm too old to be dealing with a brat like you, sweets. Why'd you gotta give your old man so much trouble? Can't you be a good girl like this pretty cunt?"

The heel of his palm nudged into your clit. Grinding into the nub so that you squirmed helpless in his arms. Consumed by the slyness of his touch and the intoxicatingly expensive scent of his cologne.

You knew you were a bad girl. Knew you gave him hell when all he wanted to do was spoil and please you. But really— could you be blamed? When those skilled hands ruined your pretty mascara and spilled your cunt into a messy puddle.

Really, how could you be a good girl when he made being a bad one so rewarding?

Still, you apologised. Too sweet for someone who'd clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes at him the second you both stepped into the boutique. Hips rocking into his hand as your pleasure crept higher.

"Sorry toru— I love you, promise."

You croaked, whining.

He chuckled, weary.

"Love me huh?" His grin tickled your ear. "Love me so much you're gonna cum on my hand in a fitting room?"

"Mhhm!"

You nodded quick. Pressed your lips together to muffle your moans and swayed your hips in a desperate rhythm. Chasing his hand with more greed than a bratty girl like you had the right to have.

The pleasure splurged into a hot, clenching knot between your thighs. Prickling through your thighs and up your spine as his cruel fingers returned to your bud. Stroking in quicker, tighter circles to work you towards that much-needed orgasm.

Higher— and higher— with his deep words on your ear like a sweet coffee as he rocked his hips up into your ass. Ground the ridge of his hard erection into the plush.

"There you go baby. There you go. Cum f'me."

You were there.

Right there.

Almost there. And then—

His hand withdrew.

You croaked a cry. Nails scratching at his wrist and helplessly trying to pull him back. Hips scrambling to press your drenched panties on his knee and cling to the heat that started to bubble away.

"Nononono please—!"

"Huh? C'mon. I told you to cum, didn't I? Don't you wanna cum?" He pouted at you through the mirror. Brows knitted at the centre as he watched you pitifully try to chase the fiction on his knee. Close to spilling tears and choking up cusses.

The pout morphed into a devilish grin. One that almost had you reaching behind and pulling at his hair till some of it was bunched in your palms. You would have— if your pussy wasn't throbbing so much and the disappointment of your missed orgasm hadn't scorned you.

"Satoru!" You whined, pitched and pouted as you squirmed into his hands that dared to rub up your sides. Comforting you as if he wasn't the fucking reason you're crying in the first place.

He hummed again. Too calm for a man who just pulled wool over his pretty darling's eyes and snatched it away when she got too excited.

"Can't give you everything you want, now can I?" A large palm cupped over your tummy. Pressing you back into him so that you flushed to his chest. His cold lips ghosted your ear.

"That's how brats are born."

Guess he was right. You were living proof of getting everything you ever wanted and spitting attitude back at the man who gave it to you.

With that in mind, you really didn't have any right to complain as he made you hold your skirt up while he undid his pants.

If this were a few months ago, you would have scolded him. Flushed in embarrassment and shook your head vigorously. Letting him fuck you in a fitting room where any of the staff could take a guess what the wet sounds actually were was definitely not something on your bucketlist.

But you've changed, ever since you became the pretty thing on his arm. Twice your age and yet he was the one teaching you to live a little.

Guess guiding you in even filthy ways came with the territory.

Just like he was now. Guiding the thick tip of his cock to your panties. Guiding the lacy fabric to the side with a crook of his fingers. Guiding those throbbing veins through your puffy folds and drowning in your slick. All while his sapphire stare pinned you through the mirror.

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/dollywons . art cred: @/hunnismokah

♡ ₊˚‧ want more? find the full fic on my patreon <3

[satoruswetgf]

streamer!jo is mid-stream, leaning back in his chair, one hand on his mouse, the other lazily resting on the desk. when the door opens, he doesn’t even look but instead plays.

“chat, if I clutch this, you all have to donate at least—”

you walk in and he immediately looks back. “hey,” he says, already smiling, voice softening without him realizing. “what’re you doing?” you’re holding something carefully in both hands, eyes bright. “I made something.”

gojo swivels his chair toward you, completely abandoning whatever he was doing. “lemme see.” you step closer and lift it proudly.

a full lego set. clean, detailed, and clearly not easy.

“I built it,” you say, a little proud, a little shy. gojo blinks then grins. “no way you did that by yourself.”

you gasp, offended. “i did! don’t start.”

the chat as usual, explodes.

pinkglossbaby: SHE DID THAT??? itadori.exe: nah that’s actually impressive domainexpansionTHIS: gojo doubting already 💀

you turn toward the stream, holding it up carefully so the camera can see.

“do you guys like it?,” you question, reading some comments, “this was my first time and i had to follow the instructions exactly or it wouldn't align.”

gojo leans back, watching you instead of the screen, elbow on the armrest, chin in his hand, completely dazed

you keep going.

“and people think you can just skip steps—no. you cannot skip steps. because then the top layer won’t connect properly and everything collapses.”

cursedenergyLOL: SHE’S TEACHING US 😭 nanamisworkwife33: the tone shift is crazy gojosblindfold: she said STRUCTURAL

satoru snorts softly, eyes flicking to chat, then back to you. “you hear yourself right now?”

you ignore him.

“and this part—” you point at the set, “this took the longest because the pieces are similar but not the same, so i had to pay extra attention.” you lean in a little closer to the camera, completely focused.

satorus hand comes to your waist automatically, just resting there, holding you in place. “guys,” he says lazily, “she didn’t let me help, by the way.” you turn your head, frowning. “because you would’ve messed it up.”

he gasps, offended. “i would not—”

“you would’ve skipped steps.”

limitlesscrybaby: CLOCKEDDD sukunaIRL: yeah toru man ur cooked tojiZenin: sounds like a skill issue

satoru narrows his eyes at the screen then he looks back at you, lips twitching into a grin. “it does look good though,” he admits, quieter and you brighten instantly.

“i know,” you say proudly.

he laughs under his breath, pulling you a little closer into his lap again like it’s second nature.

“yeah,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else. “you’re cute when you explain stuff.”

you blink, shying away behind the lego piece.

KingZenin_Naoya: down bad, could never be me. cursedenergyLOL: don’t worry we know gojoswifeREAL: THANK GOD frankoceansgf: did this guy really make a new acc😭 tojisleftballsack: mute him already... LimitlessGojo muted KingZenin_Naoya LimitlessGojo banned KingZenin_Naoya

© 2026 satoruswetgf. all rights reserved.

no reproduction, translation, reposting, or Al use (including feeding into Al platforms or bot creation) is permitted without my permission.

[tonycries]

Beast - R.S.

Synopsis. Four arms. Four eyes. Two mouths. Ryomen Sukuna has everything he needs and more: power, riches, enough concubines that he’s grown bored of such frivolities. That is, until you’re entering his royal estate as the newest addition—and he just didn’t expect such a puny little human to become… His favorite.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!concubine!reader, Heian era!Sukuna, true form!Sukuna, DP, Sukuna’s second mouth, the Sukuna Estate, other concubines, schemes, sIight pIot, mostly just true form Kuna mmmmpfg, he’s the master, he’s BIG (like really big), four arms, two mouths, he’s FÉRAL, mouth-ríding, sort of face-sítting, p sIapping, oraI (f + brief m), DÚMBlFICATION, making it fit, tight squeezes, stretching, tummy buIges, cervíx smooches, sIight degradation, bréeding, mentions of heirs, MANHANDLlNG, tension, full nélsons, overstímulation, spítting, foIding, stopping you from running, making you CRY, rough s, he’s MEAN, creampíes, cúmpIay, muIti-tasking (iykyk), implied marathon, slight proposals, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 10.5k

A/N. Blame that split-second frame from the last episode not me…

“Of the eighty-two chambers, you are free to enter most.” Uraume’s words were smooth, steady, and not a second longer than necessary; just as their steps were down these winding hallways. 

You’re hastening your strides to keep up.

“You may roam in the gardens and libraries. The main kitchen has its doors always open, the Eastern one is for specialty desserts and guests, and the Western one is for poisons…and guests.” They continue, “The dojo is forbidden to anyone but the master, and you are expected in the Buddha room every evening.”

They suddenly halt.

Boredly, “You do plan to stay alive, I believe?”

And you could barely breathe, “I-I believe so?”

You’re realizing that you’ve stopped at the end of a massive bridge connecting to a quieter wing of the estate—intricately carved, and accompanied by a slow river drifting underneath. Uraume’s hand falls to the edge of the lattice doors, “Good. Here we have the concubine quarters-” Looking at you seriously, “-where you shall reside.”

A shiver runs down your spine.

Truth be told, you hadn’t expected to get this far.

According to what the stories and legends claimed, a mere mortal like you would have been sniffed out—would have been sought after, would have your flesh torn to shreds the very second you stepped inside the Sukuna Estate. If not by the monster that inhabited it, then the Estate itself.

Some whispered that it was inhabited by cursed spirits - amongst something far, far worse - that both guarded and imprisoned. Whilst others whispered that the house itself was a cursed spirit in the form of this sprawling aristocratic estate—as vast as a palace. Even more whispered that whomever entered the house gained a taste for blood, and even most claimed that a house’s auspiciousness reflected that of its master’s. 

For who else would inhabit such a place but Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses himself?

If the public whispered about the estate, they simply yelled about the sorcerer that inhabited it. Blood-curdling screams. 

There was no avoiding the rumors that swirled around the special-grade; those who were unfortunate enough to cross his path painted a picture of a beast more than eight feet tall, with glowing blood-red eyes and horns that tore open the skies. Storms he could silence with a single wave of his hand. His powers were what made legends—never before had there been seen a sorcerer as strong as he, and it was likely that there never shall be again. Though that was not for a lack of trying, or talent, or assassinations. 

Despite remaining living, he was depicted in temples and murals of hell. Four arms. Four eyes. Two mouths and countless tattoos. So imbued in his sorcery that it metamorphosed his physical body itself - Ryomen Sukuna was said to be something more than human, but something less than a person. 

Look at him wrong and you might find yourself without sight. Without life. 

Thus, not many dared to lay their eyes upon him—but they didn’t have to. He left a pathway of destruction and blood-soaked footprints wherever he went. 

A kill count higher than several populations.

Wherever he went, it loomed the dark shadow of a hand across the land. Currently that hand was grasped tight around the city of Heian-kyō: the home of Ryomen Sukuna, it sat at the very center of the capital. Dubbed aptly by the citizens to be The Estate of the Dead. For no human that wandered inside, will ever wander out.

And yet, that’s exactly the chance you’d taken today.

You’d had enough.

You’d waltzed right up to those grand doors this evening, dwarfing everything and anything around it, and knocked. Dark mahogany panels. Gilded handles. Unlike most noble homes, the Sukuna Estate didn’t need to have guards stationed outside it—for who was mad enough to bother the King of Curses?

You, it seems.

And so the busy road froze around you; the residents paused mid-gossip, the merchants stopped haggling their prices, the carts and wheels creaked to a halt—the world itself held its breath as the doors to the estate had opened.

And a short, slender person stepped outside.

They were dressed in a dark monk’s robe draped over a white kimono, equally white hair dazzling - almost ethereally odd - underneath the sunlight. They closed the door behind themself, and looked at you intensely. “State your purpose.”

You struggled to remember why you were here in the first place, “I-It is my greatest honor to-”

“Hasten.”

“I only wished to-”

“Hasten-”

“A position.”

You weren’t sure who was more bewildered at the words that blurted out of you—you or the citizens around you. There were soft gasps that echoed into the air, peering even closer at the strange interaction. However, the attendant merely looked at you uncertainly, and you hurried to explain yourself. “I come seeking employment, my lord of the house.”

“I am but a mere servant.” They replied, raising one hand. “And we seek help no longer.”

As they attempted to turn back and go inside, you’re rushing. “Please-”

Brows furrowed, “I said we seek help no-”

“But I swear that I shall be the most loyal servant to the master…” Bowed slightly, a slight rush of relief goes through you as you notice they’ve turned back. Just barely, but it’s something. “-after yourself, of course.”

They huffed in slight amusement.

And your hands shook. Gripped onto the long length of your sleeves, you steadied them before you continued - just as you’d practiced. “I swear upon my soul that no assignment shall be too great, no concern too small. Please—please, I have scoured every street and alley for weeks now in search of employment, and you have been the only one kind enough to open your doors…Any job is enough for me- any. Just spare me the chance.” Hands twisted together into a plea, “I beg of you.”

They looked slightly taken aback, and you stepped closer to seize your chance.

“My body is the master’s, and I shall gladly undertake any task.” You gazed straight into their doe-like, brown eyes—“Any task.”

Their lips barely moved as they repeated, “Any?”

“Any.”

There was a ringing silence following your answer, and you knew that everyone in the once-bustling vicinity must have been staring at you. But that didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered but the way the white-haired attendant let their brows raise, they appraised you from head to toe.

Head to toe.

Head to toe.

It honestly seemed like forever before they finally sighed, “At ease.”

And you shot upwards from your painstaking bow with an awed breath. 

Untold, the doors to the Sukuna Estate opened. They turned around, not meeting your eyes - nor that of anyone around you two - and gestured for you to follow them inside. Stepping inside as though they didn’t care whether you proceeded or not, the strange attendant uttered. “I expect you to use your body well to serve the master.” Just barely tilted to the side to take another look at you, “You have one night to please him.”

The sound of wrought iron echoed through the ancient city like thunder.

And you touched your sleeve once more - your best silk, but more specifically…the dagger you’d hidden beneath it. 

You had one night to take down the King of Curses.

In no time, you’d been led around the massive estate by Uraume - they’d uttered their name to you between the meeting chamber and the second library - and your heart still thumps away at your throat as they now creeeeeeak—! open the quarters for the concubines. Blood bubbling in your veins. Blade cold against your skin.

There was a buzzing sort of excitement that seemed to extend from the weapon and onto you—only growing stronger as you’re pacing inside. 

It wasn’t the small, structured sort of barrack that you might’ve expected - you weren’t sure the validity, but you’d already heard stories about how concubines were cramped together in certain royal palaces. Bunks on top of bunks. Bodies that remained undernourished and untouched.

However, what Uraume takes you through is a gilded hallway—nothing out-of-place from the rest of the palace. On one side was a line of separate rooms, at the end of the hallway the paneled doors opened to a garden. It had unlit lanterns on the high ceilings and intricate artifacts that seemingly sprouted from the gleaming wooden floors; the spotless corridor branched and divulged into several other rooms and hallways, weighed with nameplates, and you were shocked to realize that each concubine seemed to have their room - no matter how small their rank; there was a lingering of perfume in the air. 

Fit for royals.

Your eyes bounce off of the walls, and Uraume watches your reaction closely. “I assume it is to your liking?”

“Yes-” You wouldn’t want to give off the wrong impression - especially not when a mere offense could mean death—“F-forgive me, it’s far more than to my liking, it’s…” Taking another awed look around, “-magnificent. I suppose I didn’t expect it to be so…”

“Beautiful?” Uraume seems to read your mind.

And you can only turn to them and nod. 

They sagely nod, something knowing in their tone. “The master has an inclination to all that is beautiful and surprising.” Looking at you closely, “Particularly surprising.”

Uraume’s expression gives nothing away, and you attempt to do the same - the dagger glints coldly against your hand. A single movement and it could cut you. A single movement and it could be in your hands.

You don’t know how long they maintain eerie eye contact with you before the sound of footsteps makes you tear your eyes away—and where you’re perhaps expecting to see the monster, the inhuman, the master of this house himself—it’s another woman. Human, perhaps.

Donned in expensive silk that robes her figure, she tip-toes towards the two of you with a sheepish smile upon her painted face. 

She bows, and you’re bowing back.

“Forgive my intrusion.” She says as she straightens once more, “It is seldom we meet a new girl. Perhaps this is forward, but am I right in presuming you are one of the new concubines?”

“O-oh, you are correct.” You’re surprised by her warm and welcoming demeanour - weren’t fights and jealousy typical of close concubine quarters? Wasn’t she supposed to scheme and plot against you just as you were doing against her- you suppose your master?

But she takes your hand and beams at you, “Then it is most wonderful to make your acquaintance. Ask me anything you would like.”

Your lips part - unsure what to say - but the white-haired attendant at your side beats you to it by announcing. “Dinner shall be served shortly.” They turn, about to make their exit before eyeing you closely. “Human.”

And you wondered whether they meant to call you human…or they meant that dinner was human. 

Once those delicate doors slide shut, and Uraume’s footsteps disappear, you’re just then realizing that you were still holding onto the other woman’s hand. Mustering up some semblance of a smile, you’re asking her—“Could you tell me about…Ryomen Sukuna?”

.

.

.

“There’s a descendant of the esteemed Kamo clan here, as well—” One of the women chuckle, taking a deep drink of her sake - one of those expensive types that came in an intricate wooden box. She smacks her lips in satisfaction, “-but you just missed her.”

Your heart batters against your chest- you still had the dagger hidden up your sleeve. Setting down your water, you hope that none of the other concubines here can hear the waver in your voice- “I see. Is she perhaps attending the…?”

“Huh?” The woman looks at blearily for a few seconds. “Who? The master?”

You nod silently.

She exchanges a look with one of the other women-

Before bursting into rambunctious laughter. 

And you’re sitting there confused as they clap one another on the shoulders, as they rattle the food-laden table—as they wipe mirthful tears from their eyes. Repeating the last sentence to one another and breaking out into peels of laughter once more. Surely, you hadn’t said anything too humorous…perhaps this was some unspoken rule of etiquette you’d missed?

It hadn’t been too long since you’d been somewhat- absorbed into the group of numerous concubines upon concubines that were housed in the Sukuna Estate. Many more than you’d initially predicted - the hallway you’d entered had been just one of many residential wings. 

Right now, about half of them sat at a long table of which you couldn’t clearly see its end - both because of length and the sheer volume of food towering upon it. All sorts of soups and noodles. All sorts of breads and wines. All sorts of meats and charred vegetables. Desserts and colorfully-packaged sweets from around the world that you’d once believed that only the emperor himself would have been able to taste.

It would have been possible to dislike every food you’d ever known, and still find something here that made you wish to stay…if just for the food.

You could hear the other half of the women chattering and laughing away in another dining room connected to this one. 

All in all, your proponent - a woman you’d learned was connected with the Fujiwara family - had told you everything about Sukuna as she introduced you to the other concubines. They took you in readily, to your surprise, and cooed and surrounded and showed you around. Speaking to you about how the estate was designed personally by Sukuna himself. How Uraume was his (human) cook. How he was a ruthless ruler, and the hallways were more often bloodied than not—but he didn’t lay a hand on them.

When they’d told you this, you’d assumed it was regarding his more…aggressive reputation on the battlefield. You didn’t think it meant-

“Our Kamo girl has travelled to Edo.” The woman from earlier - Abe, you remember her name being - continues as the others settle down. She whispers scandalously, “To visit her lover.”

You breathe in sharply, “The master permits you to take lovers?”

“It isn’t that he permits…” Fujiwara smiles warmly at you - not too far down the table. The other concubines nod as she continues, “It’s that he doesn’t pry—he has no time for human frivolities. After all, the master hasn’t called for one of the girls in…well, since we can remember. He’s a picky man. But nowadays, girls enter and leave the estate as they please, as they wish for employment. Most choose to join the house staff in time, for we aren’t bound, and the master seems to have no need for concubines these days.”

Surprise overtakes you, your hand grips tightly on your sleeve. But your objective…

Abe speaks up now, “Which is why it’d been quite the surprise to know he’d allowed in yet another.” She leans in with a conspiratorial smile, “Perhaps you’re the type to really get his loins going-”

“Abe—!” A few other women swat at her.

“I jest- I jest—” She winks at you, “In part. Would you prefer to lay with the master?”

Something twists at the bottom of your stomach, “I-if it must come to it, I wouldn’t mi-”

You’re cut off as they exclaim in scandal all around you. 

Fujiwara shakes her head with a smile, then she looks at you. “No matter what it is, you shall be housed and fed here. You shall never go without despite the master’s…”

“Impotence?”

“…”

“I jest-”

“What’s more—” She pulls back her sleeves and gestures for a bowl of sake, “Given the state of affairs, I highly doubt that you would ever have to-”

Just then, there’s a tap at the sliding doors.

An announcement of Uraume’s title—before they’re cracking the entrance open just a fraction. That stark white hair of theirs flashes from the gap in the door, illuminated by both the dim yellow lighting and the curiosity leaking out of the dining room; eyes scanning the vast chamber before finally landing on you.

An utterance of your name.

All eyes snap to you.

“The master wishes for you to join him tonight.”

One by one, you could feel the jaws of the other women drop—as well as your own. Right alongside something at the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t quite describe. 

As the silence stretches and expands to the other speechless dining chamber- Fujiwara lets out a pointed cough—and it’s all you need to jolt right back to your senses. Scrambling to stand up, you barely have the time to smooth down your kimono before following Uraume out of the room - throwing a cautionary glance over your shoulder. 

Fujiwara smiles, slightly shocked. 

Abe winks. 

The sliding doors rattle closed, and the whirlwind of gossip that follows accompanies you even to the bridge. 

Head ducked. Hands in sleeves. Uraume remains painfully silent as you’re following them down winding hallways and past chambers vast enough to be estates themselves; and though you’d been given a tour of the place beforehand, you can’t help but let your mind get just a little frazzled at the thought of what was to come after.

Of what was to come once they finally stopped.

And they do—after what feels like nights upon nights, the white-haired attendant stops before two sliding doors - nothing but sliding doors. Though you’d assumed that the King himself might have decked his personal chambers with several of his best guards, you’re realizing with a prickle of anticipation that he didn’t need them.

But that only made your job easier.

Invisible hands seem to pull the doors - panes decorated in artwork depicting archery - apart, and you’re entering a room that would have been too lavish for an emperor. 

A massive rectangular-shaped room of which strange interconnected woodwork make up the flooring; windows towering from floor-to-ceiling, half-hidden by thick curtains of red velvet. They clung themselves onto a ceiling that was gilded, calligraphy rounding the high perimeter, and a chandelier-like composition of lanterns fashioned down from it. Reds and greens and blacks and golds, the most eye-catching painting colors of furniture within. 

In the far end of the royal chamber was the futon. 

And you would describe its incredible size and its golden threading, even the red, red blanket that covered it- you would…but your eyes were far more interested in who was occupying it.

Thighs spread. Two elbows resting on his knees.

All four eyes locked on you since the moment you step inside-

“Uraume.” His lips barely seem to move, though that hoarse baritone is hard to deny. It wasn’t as inhuman as you might have expected—it sounded human and yet, there was surely something malevolent in the way he made your thighs squeeze together with just a single word. “You are dismissed.”

You’re feeling Uraume bow deeply next to you, and in the blink of an eye they’re gone-

In another blink of an eye, Ryomen Sukuna has one large hand stuck out - index quirked at you, he beckons you to him once. Only once. 

And you gulp as you walk to him.

This was your first time really seeing the King of Curses- fuck. He was wearing nothing but baggy white pants and a strange, carnal inkling about him. Engulfing you in it the second you’re locking eyes with him. The legends were right…somewhat.

Because Sukuna truly was larger than any mere mortal could ever be: with shoulders sculptured and broad enough that they’d put your best warriors to shame, with corded muscle around biceps the size of your head, with his pecs creating a bumpy road for his tattoos. He was about nine feet tall—perhaps even taller than the stories said. Far taller. Far stronger. Far more monstrous. 

Abs consistently patterned his front, disrupted only by the presence of his second mouth - it slashes aaaaall the way across his navel, large n’ licking his cursed lips with a grin.

And those tattoos- oh, those tattoos.

They were the tattoos of a criminal - two looping around each of his four arms like shackles, and then a circle on all four deltoids.

You bite the inside of your cheek—you knew your mission. But fuck- you won’t deny that a part of you wanted him so bad. 

Sukuna’s pink hair catches the lantern light as he leans back on two hands, meaty thighs manspreading before you. And in-between you swear you could see the thick, throbbing outlines of two-

“On your knees.” The King commands. Crimson eyes narrowing, “Should you so wish.”

And your knees are buckling almost instinctually- he raises a rose-pink brow as he watches your hands reach for your sleeve…before ultimately going against your orders to settle down before the foot of the bed where he was seated. 

Embarrassment curdles in your chest as you’re crawlin’ yourself closer to him, and the sorcerer himself hums in approval once you’re leaning your cheek against his right thigh. Rubbing. 

The muscles underneath twitch—and Sukuna’s swollen tips let out a spurt of precum that puddles right in front of your lips. That translucent dampness stretches across the fabric and wets your lips with its salty taste- you whine.

Right before he grasps the back of your sweaty scalp with one massive hand- and shoves your head down onto one clothed cock. Your mouth gaped wide and plopping! right on top of his mushroomy tip—an open kiss against where his sensitive slit was flared outwards. 

He’s pulsating against your lips.

And you’re moaning with your eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of his entire tip being nearly fuckin’ big enough to envelop your entire maw-

“Do you understand now?” Sukuna’s tone rumbles from above - low and level in a way that speaks of such power. He doesn’t reveal anything more, however. “Do you understand that your puny human body cannot handle me?”

You’re looking up at him with furrowed brows, “I-I understand…”

“Do you understand that I may ruin you?”

“I understand.”

“Do you understand that you cannot take m-”

“I want you-” And almost as bewildering as the fact that you’ve interrupted him, is that Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t crush you with his cursed energy on the spot for interrupting him. “-my lord.”

But that seems to be his tipping point. For his large stomach mouth quirks upwards in what almost seems like a smile—

And Sukuna gruffs out, “Then kiss your King.”

And so you’re gripping onto the soft edge of the mattress and leaning yourself up into his kiss- not the one his face was so ready for—but one where you’re leaning in and pressing a chaste peck onto his second mouth.

Onto those monstrously large lips hungrily gaping at his stomach.

Onto that fucking hungry - starved - maw so deprived of any touch that he’s immediately slurpin’ the edge of his textured tongue outwards. Attempting to enter his incredible size between your own lips, Sukuna’s only managing to fit about an inch of his cursed tastebuds—swipin’ the insides of your heated cavern and making you gasp, before he’s searing his grip into your scalp and tugging you off-

“Naughty naughty.” He trundles. And yet there’s a glimmer of something different in his eyes that told you Ryomen Sukuna was almost…excited. He’s patting one side of him on the futon, “Come up here with me, insolent thing.”

In no time, you’re hauled onto the bed and straddling the infamous King. 

Thighs struggling to squeeze around his toned core, cunt drooling your slick through your panties. As you’re inadvertently rubbing uuuup and down his ridged abs- it creates a snail trail of glistening sap that trickles all the way down to his pinkish-brown happy trail. 

Sukuna titters once he leans his head down and takes in the mess - n’ then he’s gripping one side of your waist with a single hand. 

Squeezing lightly, it doesn’t take even a mere fraction of his power to glide the exterior of your pussy down those unruly tufts of hair—dooooooown in a carnal scratch as he positions you directly on top of his second mouth.

His second mouth.

Now gaped wide open and fucking ravenous.

Immediately cracking apart from each other with a parched gasp- something deep and rumbling from his underbelly. It reminds you of a creature that’s been starved for eons—something that makes shivers run up your spine right from the in-betweens of your drippin’ wet cunt. Right as you’re feeling his oversized tongue press aside your ruined underwear and start to eeeeeease inside-

“Fuh-fuuuuck—” Dazed peripherals rolling to the back of your head - without even realizing it, you’re planting your feet onto the futon and bucking- whether more into Sukuna’s cursed mouth or away from it…you’re unsure.

But he’s making the decision for you. He’s cupping either side of your hips with two clawed hands, letting those pointed tips dig into your clammy flesh, “Easy-” Letting out a rumbling chuckle. “Easy there, woman.”

Gasping, you’re lurching- 

“Easy.”

And it’s all he needs to steady you.

It’s all he needs to tighten his hold onto your squirmin’ body, until it’s like he’s attached onto you with adhesive. It doesn’t take much of him to move you ‘round and spread open those folds even further like a pretty flower—that massive tongue of his wastes no time before swirling around that first ring of muscle. Cutely clenching around him- fuck, he can’t wait.

Before slurping his muscle back and shoving it straight between your pussylips. 

Through the popping pressure in your ear, “Because how’re you gonna take my cocks otherwise?”

And you really didn’t forget who you were dealing with, did you?

You really didn’t think that Ryomen Sukuna - the King of Curses - was going to go easy on you…did you?

Because without even waiting for your struggling walls to get used to the size, his enlarged tongue reels all the way backwards with a deafening slurp! Right until the curvaceous tip was ticklin’ at your entrance, before Sukuna’s thrusting all the way back in. Again.

Your toes curl. Your eyes dart instantly to the back of your head. 

Sukuna himself cracks a smirk- before he’s then doing it again.

And again.

“Don’t think yer running from it.” A third hand ends up plastered atop your clammy scalp- dangerously gripping your head and puuuuuushing you down onto him. 

As far as your tight hole would let him. Your thighs quiver, “B-but-” Bucking.

“Now now, brat—” Pushing you back down. “Ya get what you’re given.”

Again and again.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’re twisting on top of him because of the ruthless swabbin’ of his tastebuds inside. Honed at the very tip and zig-zagging around in a way that makes you viscerally shake on top of him—he’s slipping his velvety muscle inside and stirring it a few times to get a reeeeally good feel for your walls. For how much you’d stretch. “Because you shall fit- oh…” He seethes between clenched canines, nose scrunched at the very top. “You must- fit it. You must not run away.”

Another tough battering ram of his thick tongue - it’s almost adorable how your poor body is being jerked to and fro. He murmurs, “For who can possibly escape Ryomen Sukuna? Heh.”

His tongue seems to wind n’ stretch even deeper inside you after his own self-praise - you always have heard rumors about the King of Curses being particularly egotistical…though righteously. 

And again and again—“P-please.” Sukuna’s second tongue fills you up in all sorts of ways you’ve never felt before - not with the texture or the size or the complete and utter need…Those ridged tastebuds of his were pushin’ into eeeeevery single nook and cranny he could reach - which was all of them. At least, as far back as your dewy walls were allowing him to go, “Such a size should be-”

“Necessary.” He’s cutting you off cleanly. “Besides…”

Sukuna raises a pink brow, leaning backwards on the mattress to watch his massive tongue indulge in and out. In and out. In and out.

Your puffy folds being pushed apart at a rapid pace, your gloss seeping everywhere as he tunnels inside—he’s letting out a low whistle of approval as his second mouth creates such a mess between your legs. Monstrous tongue jerking outwards and slapping the front of your cunt teasingly- it makes a fresh wave of your juices slather down your thighs.

And he smiles - already knowing that he’s going to clean this up later.

The King’s chest rumbles with satisfaction, “Heh- you should be aware, little human…that m’not even halfway inside yet.”

There were two things in that sentence that drove you utterly wild: the fact that he mentioned he was barely inside, and the fact that he said…yet. As though to prove the point he’d just sparked inside your muddled brain, Sukuna arches his hips off the bed and ruts-

Pistoning his tongue a mere inch deeper.

Even though - to you - it feels like he’d just struck his tongue against your very throat—“Wh-what you claiming…” Your thighs quake as he continues fucking you between them, “How much longer may you possibly have to go?”

“Oh…an inch, two, four….seven.” Sukuna tilts his head airily, “Tch- such tedious tasks are meant for humans. How about you count instead?”

You balk, “Pardon, master?”

“Count, little human.” And without a single warning, his fourth hand snakes underneath your flapping kimono- between those sopping pussylips and squeezing at your poor clit. “Your master orders you to count.”

And the only thing you can possibly do is let your eyes shutter at the pleasure, lips trembling as Sukuna’s second tongue finds its mazin’ way across your walls. As you’re struggling to get a single word out, however, at least the ruthless sorcerer slooooows his pace down to something more languid- making sure you feel every bump and vein.

Every quirk.

Every inch.

Until finally you’re throwing your head behind and vocalizing—after only a few sloppy strikes. “T-two…”

“Heh…interesting.” One of those gnarled hands clasped onto your sides reaches upwards n’ grabs onto your pretty face, smushin’ those cheeks together as he stares deeply into your eyes. Sukuna takes in your dazed peripherals, your spit-glossed lips - the way you looked completely and utterly gone on his tongue, and yet…still managed to answer his question.

Mere mortals never did manage to surprise him anymore. You, however…

Before even he knows what he’s doing, Ryomen Sukuna leans inwards and spits between your gaped maw. Rushing to then kiss you with his own lips - eyes widened, mouth hungry. He looks bewildered himself, as his cursed mouth continues rubbin’ your pussy raw—“It seems we have a feisty little human on our hands.” Three out of four hands groping at your sides and making you ride him-

You’re trembling.

“And yet, who told you to cease your counting?”

Thwack!

“Three—” You cry out. Expectedly, Sukuna was mean—that fourth n’ final hand of his plasters his knobbly fingertips against your sensitive nub. Spanking you hard enough to see stars.

But Sukuna only grins, “Incorrect.”

Yet another spank. Yet another brush of his cursed tongue inwards- and you swear that you’re starting to hear his second mouth start to snicker to himself. Was that even possible? 

Were you even thinking? Were you even breathing?

It doesn’t take his keen eyes long to realize that he’s left you completely and utterly stupid on his tongue—just so luscious and lewd. Spreadin’ apart your puffy folds and funneling your insides with him, “Four- four—”

“Correct.” Just to tease you, those fingers of his leave another rude spank.

And Sukuna doesn’t bother letting you gather your bearings before he’s delving even deeper. 

“F-five…” You’re trembling out as you feel the massaging texture of his tastebuds enter, they’re pokin’ into spots you hadn’t even realized you had - filling out your tight channel and leaving his shape molded straight into your cunt. “And is that…ngh- six?”

“That was seven.” He rumbles out in a smug tone.

Your jaw drops as you register the massive number - seven inches of his cursed tongue fucking your pussy. And yet it still doesn’t seem as though he’s planning to stop anytime soon…

Back arched, you’re keeping your hands on top of Sukuna’s broad shoulders. Nails digging into his deltoids. And with all the strength that you could muster, you’re attempting to riiiiiide your hips back down onto his—grinding in figure-eight motions.

Sukuna was already manhandling you down onto him - now it might just be your turn to control the cadence. To control how much of him went inside you.

“J-just fuck me already—” You’re pleading. Your jaw drops with a parched whimper, hips veering down harder and harder- “Ngh- that was eight. Nine. Just fuck me- all of me.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen in slight surprise- before he’s quickly catching himself and tightening the two hands at your waist. “Now now…easy there. Go too fast for a little human, and yer going to hurt yourself.”

“But I need it.” Lip jutting out in the cutest damn pout, “I need you inside me, Kuna.”

His breath catches, “Repeat what you just uttered.”

Back bending into the most delicious curve, pushing up against his sweaty pecs. You’re sobbing out as his stomach mouth gapes even wider n’ seemed to push in even more, more, moooore of his sultry inches—“N-nine and a half…? I need you inside-”

“Not that-” Smacking your clit once more. “-you insolent brat.” The tip of his tastebuds reach the very back of your pussy, and it’s a sensation you just can’t describe. “That…title. I command you to hah, repeat it.”

“Title?”

Thwack!

“Repeat it.”

And it’s taking everything and anything in you - in your utterly cockdrunken mind - to conjure up the faintest inkling about what Sukuna was talking about. To let your head throw back with a final primal cry—for the first time since he’d started fucking you with his stomach mouth, you’re finally feeling your ass cheeks seat down properly on top of his washboard abs. 

And then you’re finding yourself in his strong arms, your moans muffled into his actual mouth. “T-ten.” Gasping through the constant drool n’ sounds of pleasure clogging up your throat, “That’s ten, Kuna—”

And there it was.

Theeeeeere it was - in more ways than one.

Ryomen Sukuna’s getting to hear that sultry nickname fall from your mouth once more - for some inexplicable reason leaving the tips of his ears feeling warm - and he’s getting to see you complete his command.

Ten entire inches of his cursed second tongue- lickin’ away every trace of sap at your inner thighs, before he’s pushing it all the way inwards. Inwards and inwards. The maw slashed across his stomach grins as he’s hitting the very back of your pussy-

And before you know it, the King is tugging you into his arms.

He kisses your mouth sloppily while his second tongue continues fucking you between your legs. Harder by the minute.

Sukuna grunts as he opens his mouth wiiiiide n’ slips his tongue between your jaw- “Suck on my tongue.” He’s echoing out in a hollow tone.

And you can do nothing but squeeze your glossy lips together—eagerly suckling on his tongue. You’re unsure whether it was from your lavish dinner prior or whether it’s just how hazy your brain is, but you’re finding him to taste almost…sweet.

And your eyes roll to the back of your head as you do so-

“Heh-” Sukuna manages to pant out between kisses, open-mouthed and hot. “Now both pairs of pretty lips are sucking on my tongue.”

And your jaw…drops- only for him to use the opportunity to kiss you even deeper.

Making you ride his stomach mouth whilst he kisses you stupid - his tongue probing inwards, inwards, inwards in looooong slick thrusts. Scrapin’ every orifice inside but especially bending around to hit your g-spot. 

You’re sure your body jolts as you feel the sudden zaps of charged pleasure, setting your body positively alight. “I-I’m so close, master.” You pout, “I must- hah- cum.”

“Must, hm?” Sukuna mutters - almost to himself. “And am I to believe that my human deserves to cum? Am I to believe that she is ready to take both my cocks?”

Nodding fervently, “Y-yes—yes, please-”

“Am I to believe that she will have no trouble taking me down to the very womb?”

“Yes-”

Crimson eyes narrow, “I will not slow down, needy human. Am I to believe that-”

“Yes-” Just so gone on your impending high. So close. 

And to your surprise, the King merely chuckles as you’re interrupting him - had this been anyone else, then they would have found themselves being made an example of. But you…you’re finding yourself jerked almost aggressively upwards as he bucks his hips, more to run the ridges of his cursed tastebuds along the interior of your walls. Harder. Faster.

You hurtle straight into your high at an incredible pace-

“If you had let your King finish…” It’s the last thing you’re hearing before the pleasure overtakes you - Sukuna’s rumbling tone. “-then perhaps you would have known my question was whether I’m to believe you shall give me an heir in my name.”

His question was going to be whether you’d give him an heir.

His question was going to be whether you’d give him an heir.

But you’re unable to articulate anything more than a few whimpers n’ grunts - because the waves of your orgasm that overtake you are enough to leave you numb. Enough to leave you babbling. Enough to leave you shaking on top of Sukuna’s toned body as he shovels his fat tongue in and out.

In and out. In and out.

The way his overlarge tongue curved was just perfect for hittin’ every spot, and you’re feeling him time out your peaks perfectly—knowing juuust when the surges of your dopamine were at their highest. 

Just then, he’d slam! his flattened tastebuds onto the exact spot of your nerves. Fingers nothing but a dizzying blur between your legs as he rolls his thumb over your clit, “Gonna take my t-tongue-” Sukuna spits between honed canines, “Gonna take my cocks then- gonna take my seed.”

“Sh-shiiiiit—” You yowl, “It feels so good, Kuna-”

“That’s ‘master’ to you.” He scoffs, nose sliding down the column of your throat. Sukuna takes one more look at the way you’re swallowing him up - at the way you grind deeper to stuff his glistening muscle between your pussylips, and shivers. “Or…consider yourself lucky to be shown mercy this time, human. Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Kuna.”

“Tch-”

And with that said, it’s not long before you’re completely and utterly fucked through your orgasm by the mouth on his stomach—through every tiny shred n’ ounce of pleasure. 

Once Sukuna feels your quiverin’ pussy finish, he’s pulling out of you with the most lecherous squelch! Letting your thighs drape limply around his waist for a few seconds- that’s as long as the King can manage before he’s sitting up on the futon and flipping the two of you around.

So that your back was against the mattress. So that your head was hitting the pillows.

Sukuna crawls his massive figure down the length of your body- four arms pinning back your slick-sheened legs as he pushes his head between them. He’s wasting no time before digging his larger-than-mortal nose between your sodden pussylips and giving your cunt a good liiiiiiiiick of his actual tongue - this time tasting you with his actual mouth.

“Shit—” You’re surging up from your comfortable position, sparks sizzling in your brain. “A-again, Kuna?”

“Your master never had his fill.”

And with that said, he’s lavishin’ your pussy with countless long licks and dribbles. Lips glued to your folds. Breathing through his nose. Sukuna darts his tongue out - thick, though definitely not to the extent of his stomach mouth’s - and zig-zags it across your entrance.

Easing his wet muscle inside—inside and inside. He’s scourin’ every inch of your walls as though to check every mark he’s made before. Just so tender. 

The velvety inches of his tastebuds flickering in and out- five inches long, you’re realizing automatically. Far longer than a normal human’s.

And it just drives you insane. 

The edges of his fangs nip either side of your entrance - Sukuna had already left you so raw with his cursed tongue prior, so now it’s only taking a few seconds before he’s getting you to spray your orgasmic juices all over his mouth once more—“K-Kuna, I’m close.”

He hums at the feeling of your trembling fingers weaving into his pink hair, “Close? Stupid brat, you’re already cumming.”

The wetness of your cunt spills down his chin.

And Sukuna’s dragging his tongue iiiiiiiiiiiin and out at a constant, sloppy pace to get you through your high. To elongate it. Curving the pointed tip of his tongue against your g-spot - he holds it there for a few seconds just to feel you shake n’ clench around him.

Before he’s breathing through his nostrils and starting to synchronize your peaks with the slashes of his tongue. “Mhmmmm—” He moans out sultry vibrations, they send shockwaves up your spine. “Yes- fuck, yes. I believe this pussy is ready for me.”

Raging through you hard and fast - he doesn’t have much time before your legs start to twitch cutely with overstimulation. Tears sheening down your face. Your jaw unfastened with the most sinful noises. 

Sukuna’s prominent nose pushes up against your clit and you’re crying out—

Looking up at you with hungry, half-lidded eyes. “I believe this pussy is ready to be my queen.”

With the pins and needles of your last two orgasms still coursing through your body, it’s nothing but a blur to you as Sukuna hovers his large body over yours once more. And it’s as if one second you’re blinking up into his handsome face, and in the next—you’re finding him laid back against the mattress- and you laid back against him. 

Your head rests against his collarbone. Your back was arched against his stomach mouth.

Your legs were dangling off somewhere around his lower half- until Sukuna reaches two of his powerful arms down to position you properly. First, he’s grabbing either side of your waist and aligning you with where his clothed erections were—then he’s spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open.

Finally, he’s cupping his clawed hands underneath your thighs and pulling them up, up, up, upwards—until they were stretched out almost beyond your ears. And Sukuna was just basking proudly in this rude full nelson that he’d manhandled you into.

Gruff laugh echoing by the side of your ear, “And now…” In the corner of your teary peripherals, you’re seeing his other two arms bend to your lower half. “-to check for myself whether this pussy can really follow orders…”

Your kimono was already an utter mess- and Sukuna doesn’t have to do much to have it bunched around your naked hips. Your cunt all glistening with slick n’ saliva from earlier—hissing at the heated air that’s hitting you. “Shit…I need you so badly, master.”

“Then I expect you to take every inch.” He replies ominously. Just then, his eager fingers drop to the hemline of his pants. “I expect you to take every drop-”

And he’s tugging.

Only for your jaw to fall—

Because Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just huge - you’d already expected as much, given his height and other physical prowess. But he was just staggering.

Just like the rest of him, there was double the number of appendages as there would be on a normal human. Two achingly-hard cocks stacked on top of each other. Inches upon inches. Despite your counting challenge earlier, you’re having trouble registering the sheer lengths that he could possibly be - ten…no….twelve? Perhaps even longer. Though you’re noticing that the upper one was just the slightest bit longer than the other.

Both just as girthy. 

Round and reddened. The plump, puckered tips upon their ends throbbed with carnal desire- oozing out generous helpings of milky-white precum that dribble down the front of your cunt. It mixes with the mess already made before, and leaves your thighs sticky with need. 

Heavy ballsack twitching underneath his second shaft. So many veins that you lose count.

“K-Kuna—” You’re whimpering as he starts to rub the shafts of his two cocks between your swollen pussylips. Pushin’ them apart and making space for his ruthless girths instead, “Want it inside, Kuna- hck! I really crave you inside me…”

“Oh, little human…” He coos from above. Larger face craning down next to yours, “Did you really believe that I was hesitating? That I was waiting for you?”

“I suppose…”

“Here’s where you are mistaken, my puny thing.” Sukuna trundles, and you don’t have to look behind to know that his sharp fangs were making an appearance. “I am no kindred man.”

A shiver runs down your spine.

And before you can open your mouth to ask what exactly he meant—his rounded tips press against your wettened crevice. Just the sweetest dual pecks, they’re letting out harsh slurps! as he starts to slip around your needy hole. “I wasn’t waiting for your body to get ready, as you so might have believed.”

“Th-then—?” You sob.

“I was waiting…” Your body bucks down into his, your hands reach up to grab at his pinkish locks and- 

And your dagger slips out.

His voice grows excited. “I was waiting-” Both of you reach for it at the same time, Sukuna with his four arms and you with your two. Your heart stutters- your hand closes around the thick, metallic hilt—“…for a distraction.”

Several things are happening at once: for one, Sukuna finally forgoes teasin’ at your readied hole to instead scour his cocks inside - fucking in with a long, hard thrust. Deeeeeeeply pressing against your cervix—it feels as though he’s splitting you sensually from the inside out, and you’ve never felt anything better.

And then you’re closing your fingers around the blade - tight - and aiming behind you to press the sharpened edge of it against his throat. 

You knew you’d struck your target. Especially when you feel the dagger tremble as he chuckles- chuckles. The King of Curses has the audacity to chuckle.

When you have a weapon to his throat.

You’re unsure whether it was overconfidence or something else entirely- but his hips don’t falter for a single second as he rams his swabbin’ tips thoroughly inwards—thumping away at the back of your pussy. Your ears sizzle with the slamming impact of skin-on-skin, “And so?” He mutters to you, “For what reason do you stall? Do it.”

You grit your teeth, blade pressing against his sunkissed skin until a bead of crimson peppers out. “Do you believe that I am too cowardly to do so?”

“Forbid the thought.” Sukuna hums, “A King assassinated by his favorite concubine? How romantic. I merely implore you to hasten-”

“I shall—”

“So do it.”

“Do not regret-”

“Do it.” 

In fact, he leans in even closer as though to help you.

He’s fucking you deep from the rounded orifice of your cunt, to the very depths of your womb. Pulse thundering inside - until it felt like he was taking over every single part of you—until your teeth were set on edge, and the thud-thud-thudding of his matching cocktips was all that you could think of. 

Your hand trembles around the hilt.

Your lips wobble with emotion.

Your eyes lock deeply with Sukuna’s own hellishly crimson ones, and-

And the dagger falls gently onto the cotton futon.

Sukuna’s body ripples with a sensation that could’ve been anything from pleasure, to victory, to utter glee—but most of all, his tone just sounded awed. 

“I knew there was something special about you, woman.”

And then you’re being crushed in Sukuna’s arms as far back as you would go - as high as your legs could reach above your head, as curvaceously as your spine could bend against his core. He’s manhandling you like nothing but a ragdoll above him—plastered to his muscular back, you’re at the mercy of his vicious thrust after thrust.

The stretch was just incredible.

The stretch was like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

Two thick, loooooooong shafts that were mazin’ between your sopping pussylips- the rounded edges of their cockheads manage to swerve your tight walls apart. Jostling against one another. Throbbing in synchronization inside you - ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Scraping his thumping veins inside and reaching aaaall across every nook, orifice, and cranny. Just so big.

Sukuna himself grunts out in pleasure as his cocks manage to press through the slight resistance you still maintained - his cursed tongue had stretched you out incredibly, and he’s groaning out in pleasure as his cocks manage to slide against one another and then against you- “And now- hah, and now I believe you remember what you promised me?”

“Promised?” Your lashes flutter open, “I-I’m afraid…”

“You promised me an heir.”

Your maw droops open. Your heart starts to race.

Your cunt’s drooling out your arousal at the prospect faster than you could register it- and Sukuna feels the sploshin’ leaks around his thickened bases. His grin stretches as he takes in your unspoken reaction, and before you know it—both sliding cocks are knocking at the door to your very womb-

“And I’m not Ryomen Sukuna if I don’t fuck one into you tonight, brat.”

Rough thrusts. Crushing you in his big, beefy arms. 

Closer and closer. Tighter and tighter. 

If you thought that you’d been treated like a ragdoll earlier- then you’d been lucky. Because now you’re pressed between his bulging biceps and his pecs, sweat covering both your bodies in a thin sheen as your movements grow more and more fervent—“Fuck a- hah, fuck my heir into you.” Sukuna was barely speaking by now - short, rasping bursts. “Fuck you so big and fuuuuuuuull.”

Running two hands down your front—“Master, I have doubts that it gets much more full than this.”

And he lets out what almost sounds like a guffaw, “It can.”

“Wh-what do you mean- oh.”

And all this time, you’d been damn thankful that Sukuna had chosen to stretch you out on his oversized tongue first—how else would you have fit him so easily? Softenin’ up the snug exterior of your channel. Mapping out your sweetest spots. 

Because it just made it even easier to slip inside—it just made it sooooo much more convenient for his dual tips to probe open your wet cunt. Inching and easing.

But then you’re starting to feel a third intrusion.

Then you’re starting to feel his needy tongue once more.

You’re gasping- 

The slightest, smallest ticklish sensation of…none other than his cursed mouth dragging down the inner sorts of your thighs. Just teasing. Just the roughened ridges of his tastebuds, long enough that he can snake them down and flatten them over that soft skin beside your cunt.

And in a matter of mere moments, Sukuna’s rugged hands settle deeper against your skin. Tight. Tough. He’s double-checking to make sure that your restless hips couldn’t skin away- before reeling his hips back and penetrating you in longer, harder ruts—each rude slammin’ of his cocks accompanied by the soothing laps of his cursed tongue. 

“Y-yet again—?” You’re blabbering out stupidly. Tears falling in big, bulbous beads down either of your cheeks and ending up smeared, “Kuna-”

“Mhmmmm.” He hums out - and you could almost hear the smugness in it. The way his piercing canines make an appearance as he says, “It’s for your own good, brat.” One of his hands lifts off of your sweat-covered body - folded like a lawnchair - and Sukuna runs it down your middle.

He stops right above where both his swabbin’ cocks and his tongue had started to form a tiny bulge at your stomach—“S-sensitive-”

“Exactly.” He sounds so content with himself. So damn content.

Those handsome lips - both pairs of them - quirk further upwards as he’s massaging the front of your stomach—particularly over that one spot where you’re stuffed till you’re bloated. Pressing down-down-dooooown- “And how shall this puny human body handle carrying my heir, hm?” He growls as he accelerates his ruts, “How?”

Mouth sobbing open in answer.

You're gripping onto either side of his muscular body and swervin’ your hips in response- unsure whether you wanted to rut back down for more or just…

“Running away?” Sukuna's dangerous trundle sounds from behind you, and the clasp he has on your shuddering body only grows stronger. Before you know it, you’re being manhandled like nothing but his favorite toy and shoved right back onto his twin erections-

He continues, “If you can’t handle two of my cocks—” They’re emptying out at the bottom of your pussy with two distinct thuds! The top one first, and then the squeezin’ of the latter. “If you can’t even handle my tongue…the babies of my lineage tend to be large.” 

Palm pressing down on your stomach.

“Does this pretty womb have enough space?”

And there’s nothing more for you to do but throw your head backwards and buck up into his awaiting arms. He’s only seeming to crush you even deeper against his toned body, “It does-”

“What was that?” One pink brow raises.

“I s-said it does—it does.” You’re blabbering away, thighs attempting to wrangle downwards so that you can steady yourself. But the only thing that’s succeeding in doing is making Sukuna tighten his restraint on you maddeningly - “I can fit even more of you- hngh, I can fit your…”

He grins- and this time it’s his second mouth that hisses demandingly at you. “Say it.”

“Heir in here…” And if this was any other time - if you’d been in any clearer of a state of mind - you wouldn’t have said such embarrassing words in your lifetime. And yet, here you were—bouncin’ down welcomingly into Sukuna’s largely gaped maw. “I want it, Kuna.”

“Heh?” He grins, “Then brace yourself.”

And it’s the only warning you’re getting - honestly, you’re surprised to realize that he’d given you any at all. 

Because in the next few seconds- his cursed mouth goes from lappin’ away at the sweet, sweet juices coating the edges of your cunt—to slithering between those puffy pussylips of yours and attempting to devour your pussy whole again.

Two arms laced behind your clammy scalp. Two more arms reaching down to toy with your overstimulated pussy.

“O-oh gods-” Hiccuping through your tears as you start to feel the pleasurable burn of your pussylips stretchin’ once more.

Wider and wider.

Deeper and deeper.

In, in, and in—

Sukuna's second mouth tenderly whips apart your wet walls—with the most lecherous squeeeelch! he's then attempting to stroke his tongue inwards between the thrusts of his dual cocks. Sharp, stabbing thrusts. Just to fit inside.

Three- three of his sinful appendages attempting to stuff you all full - you're losing your mind already with his throbbing cocks, but now Sukuna's tongue was a different sort of texture altogether that was just leaving you on the verge of-

“You can cum.” The King sputters out against your temple, lips moving what seems like a mile a minute. “But you have to remember to reward me with a strong heir after, hm?” Tap-tapping at the tummy bulge he was fucking into you, “Hafta give me one with my powers. Hafta give me one that- hngh, I can train into the strongest. Hafta give me one with- haaaah…” He breathes out laboriously, “-that smile.”

Your eyes shoot open as you’re registering exactly what he’s uttered, “Kuna…fuck, it feels so good.”

“Please…” And it might just be the first time that you’ve witnessed the infamous Ryomen Sukuna utter a word of plea since you’ve met him. That chiselled cheek of his nuzzles down the side of your temple, “-call me your husband.”

Oh.

Oh.

You’re barely even given enough time to let the entire ordeal sink of having him inside you sink in- before the wooden panels beneath the futon creeeeeeak—! And Sukuna’s arching his hips fully off of the dampened mattress, entering his entire greedy lengths into your pussy.

Again and again.

Reeling back until it was only the plump, glossy tips kissin’ at your entrance - before drag-drag-dragging his pulsating length inwards. In-between he just barely manages to squeeze his textured tongue inside.

Repeating once. Twice. Thrice. So many times that you’ve lost count, and you’re barely in control of your own ministrations as a third hand stuffs between your pussylips and squeezes your neglected clit.

And then your overstimulation’s hitting you all at once. All at once.

And Sukuna realizes it before you do- when you’re shivering primally on top of him and cumming once more. Around his cocks. Around his mouth. It’s such a white-hot pleasure that bursts stars behind your eyelids, creating heat at the tips of your toes and then sending it searing through every vessel within you-  your body shakes in his hold as the dopamine courses right through you. 

His lips crack into a chuckle, and he’s cooing softly down at you as he ruts his hips even harder—fucking you through every peak. “Theeeeeere, there…” Something almost sweet- though you know better than to expect sweet from Ryomen Sukuna. “My poor human couldn’t handle it?”

“I-I can…” You’re arguing back- even though your answer sounds like nothing but a jumbled mess of syllables. The sheer force of the high that wracks through you is enough to make your head spin, thighs shake—fucked up, up, and up by his never-ending hips. 

And he can only smile, “Is that so…? Then perhaps my fierce concubine won’t mind if I just—speed up a little bit.”

Even more?

Your mouth drops as you’re perhaps getting ready to beg for mercy- before even the choked-up syllables at your throat start getting fucked back down by his roverin’ tips.

Rubbing their flared ridges across every spot of your insides, dribblin’ out gooey precum into the smallest nooks and crannies. You’re feeling the sultry slickness of it puddling up deep inside you, and it’s almost enough to send you raging right into another high-

“K-Kuna—!” Your voice cracks.

“I know, heh.” He snickers, deep and hoarse. “I can feel this pussy begging even more f’me.” A few more vicious strokes and you’re feeling another faint arc of pleasure that you’re sure must be your nth high of the night. 

Hard and fast.

Hitting through every one of your bundled nerves- but especially that g-spot he’d bruised by now. Two large circular marks in the exact shape and circumference of his bludgeoning tips - they were slapping at two separate times—one after the other. Ba-dump! Ba-dump! 

Except…this time, Sukuna’s own thickened cocks twitch inside of you as you’re clenchin’ through your high-

“And don’t you worry, brat…” He growls from behind, “This time, your husband’s not too far behind—”

Your eyes flutter open in pure shock- and one of his hands reaches down to tilt your chin to look at him. “Shit-”

“Say it f’me.” Sukuna rasps, “Say it- call me your husband while I cum inside.”

And who were you to deny an order from the King himself? 

The words are barely escaping your lips—“C-cum inside me, husband…”

Before the strongest sorcerer in history throws his head back and jerks his hips upwards- letting the pouring wads of his cum plug your pussy up twofold. What’s better than one of his cocks seeping deeply at your innards? Two of them…There are so many gooey wads of it trickling all deeeeep inside- splashin’ against the spongy layer of your cervix. Swashing down your tight channel.

You’re shuddering as you feel the delicious sensation of him sprayin’ inside you - a sheer volume that ends up frothin’ in-between your legs. A circle of white forms around both of Sukuna’s thick bases. “There we go-” He snarls. “There- there, we go…”

“Shit—it feels so, ngh…” You don’t even have the words. Your body quakes as his ridged tastebuds start tickling the outer parts of your pussy. Long, luscious licks - it’s enough to make you cum again.

“And this baby shall become my heir.” Sukuna whispers - mostly to himself than anything. He runs a hand down the sweat front of your body, left ever-so-slightly more inflated with his constantly-pumping cum. “This baby shall be taught to become the strongest. This baby shall be- hah, feared amongst the nation’s lands and beyond…” His fanged smile grows, “Known by my name, I shall teach this baby to protect its mother with their life.”

The fatness of his tongue dips between your swollen pussylips- lapping again and again. He’s torn between drinkin’ up and pushing back the pearly white beads of cum that kept on leaking from you.

And you’re merely draped limply over his front. Crushed to his powerful body. 

“And this baby’s gonna become the most precious thing in this- hah, estate…” You feel him press a kiss to your temple, “-alongside you, of course, Your Majesty.”

“Majesty…?”

“The Queen of Curses.”

For who could’ve tamed the infamous Ryomen Sukuna?

In no time, he’s finally fucked himself into your pussy through his high- and it’s a tangled mess of limbs and moans as Sukuna attempts to pull out. Before realizing that his cocks were probed in too deeply, before realizing that that would mean letting his pool of cum spread out of your cunt.

Losing all his hard work.

And so he sniffs haughtily, reaching one pair of his hands up into the air and clicking-

In a split-second, you’re finding your back against the pillows. As if in a dream, you’re blinking up to stare into Sukuna’s handsome face—two hands braced upon either side of your head, both cocks still shovelled deeply inside of you. Throbbing. Did he just…did he just use his powers to change-

“Yes.” He answers your unspoken question- of perhaps it had been spoken, you’re too drunk on his cocks to realize whether or not you’d blabbered it out loud. “I call it…teleporting.” 

“Th-that should be outlawed-” You’re gasping. The air around you felt tightened with what you assumed must be his cursed energy - you’d heard the stories about them. Who didn’t?

And he merely hums, “I am the law, woman.”

Without another word, one of his four hands snake between your legs- his cursed second mouth had finished up lappin’ at the coat of cum around your thighs. And he licks his lips and belches almost gluttonously once Sukuna reaches down to cup your pussy and—

“O-oh.” Something buzzes between your overstimulated legs. 

Almost as soon as it’d started, it’s over- and Sukuna pulls his hand away—and then his rugged cocks. Letting out the most lecherous sluuuuurp! as he’s reeling his hips away, rounded tips funnel out from between your pussylips and leaving such a-

Wait…your eyes widen. There was no mess - whatever technique that Sukuna had collected between your legs stopped his cum from leaking out.

And the King of Curses wastes no time waiting for your surprise to register- not before letting out a deep snicker. He straightens his bulky body n’ edges himself closer—and before you know it, you’re suddenly finding your head straddled by Sukuna’s meaty thighs.

His dual, furiously-hot erections slapping their shafts down onto your readied face.

Both fanged mouths grin, “Now…open, human.”

And you just knew he was about to make you take both.

A/N. DJSFHSJKHS-

Plagiarism not authorized.

[kamoswrld]

hop on it

synopsis: you find a little bunny on the side of the road, you take him only to find out he's much, much more than just a sweet little bunny...

content: 18+ mdni! sukuna x fem reader, bunny hybrid sukuna, shapeshifter sukuna??, smut with some plot, horny ass bunkuna, dub-conish, two dingalings hehe, cunnilingus, squirting, rough p in v, double pen, multiple positions, full nelson hehe, creampie

eli's notes: hehehehe this was inspired by @/itterhorns fanart of bunkuna, this is 2.6k words! fanart is by @/luluyi on tumblr! hoppin dih dih dih dih dih

“aw, you poor little thing,” you murmur softly, lips curving downward into a genuine pout as you slowly lower yourself into a deep crouch—knees sinking fully into the cool, damp grass of the completely empty park.

the mauve bunny remains half-buried beneath the thick, overgrown bush, only those furious red eyes catching the weak, flickering glow from the distant streetlights.

his soft fur clumps together in filthy, matted knots, weighed down heavily with dried mud and crumpled leaves tangled tightly within the vibrant pinkish strands—one long ear hangs completely limp and heavy, while the other flicks rapidly and alertly. tiny, jagged scratches streak across his delicate paws, ribs showing faint, subtle ridges beneath that unnaturally saturated coat, yet those crimson eyes blaze with outright, burning defiance, as if he fully intends to bite the throat out of anything that dares to move.

you carefully stretch your hand forward, palm turned upward, fingers relaxed and completely still, giving him all the time in the world to cautiously sample your scent drifting on the gentle night breeze.

his velvet nose twitches frantically—nostrils flaring widely—then he suddenly jerks backward deeper into the protective shadows, lips peeling back slowly over sharp little teeth, a low, threatening hiss rumbling deeply from his tiny chest.

one powerful back foot slams firmly into the earth—thump—echoing sharply and clearly through the silent, deserted paths.

“alright then, stay hidden and starve, you stubborn little fucker,” you whisper quietly under your breath, rising slowly to your full height.

you glance upward and downward along the dimly lit trail—lamps flicker palely over completely deserted benches, no voices carry, no footsteps sound, just the soft wind whispering constantly through the branches overhead. guilt sinks its sharp teeth deeply into your chest quickly and relentlessly; he looks battered, painfully hollowed out, and the mere idea of abandoning him claws harder than you ever want to admit.

your fingers brush against the crinkling plastic bag still dangling loosely from your wrist—the fresh, crisp carrots you picked up earlier during this long, meandering walk.

you carefully fish one out, thick and long, bright orange skin crisp beneath your thumb, lush greens drooping heavily from the top.

you sink back down again, even lower this time, almost flat against the ground, extending the carrot close to the bush.

“come on, pretty boy…i know your belly must be empty,” you coax gently, voice drifting softly on the cool night air.

he edges forward just enough to cautiously peek again, nose going absolutely wild at the sweet, earthy scent, eyes pinned suspiciously on your calm face.

one hesitant hop brings him nearer, then another careful one—until he darts suddenly and viciously, teeth clamping tightly around the carrot and nipping sharply at the pad of your pointer finger in the same brutal snatch. pain flares hotly and instantly.

“ow! shit, you little bastard!” you yelp sharply, jerking your hand back quickly and shaking it hard, glaring downward through the burning sting.

he retreats swiftly into the leaves, crunching loudly and messily, bright orange juice dripping steadily down his fuzzy chin while he stares back unblinkingly—pure, unyielding challenge. but something deep in that fierce glare cracks your anger quickly; he runs purely on raw fear, nothing else.

“easy now, little guy…i’m not here to hurt you at all,” you breathe out softly, settling fully cross-legged on the cold, damp grass.

you watch him tear savagely through the carrot in furious, desperate bites, ears twitching constantly every single time you shift even slightly.

he finishes it rapidly—eyes sliding greedily toward the bag resting in your lap. you pull another carrot free, hold it steadily between finger and thumb. this time his teeth close carefully—warm, gentle graze against your skin, no blood drawn whatsoever.

quiet minutes stretch long and peacefully with nothing but wet, rhythmic crunching sounds and distant, persistent crickets, until he shuffles closer entirely on his own, presses his soft, warm head firmly under your empty palm—silent, unmistakable demand for touch.

“there you are…all that attitude for what, hm?” you murmur lowly, fingers gliding carefully behind his floppy ears, scratching slow, deliberate circles deeply into the warm, plush fur.

he leans heavily into every single stroke, eyes slitting halfway shut in pure bliss, tiny body sagging loosely and trustingly bit by gradual bit.

by the fourth carrot he turns completely limp and drowsy; by the fifth he barely grumbles at all when you slide both hands gently beneath him and lift—tucking him snugly inside your zipped jacket, right against your warm chest. his rapid, frantic heartbeat thuds constantly against your ribs the entire long walk home, warmth seeping steadily through every layer of fabric.

inside the quiet apartment you carry him directly to the bathroom, set him gently onto the wide, cool counter. warm water rushes softly into the sink, steam curling lazily upward in the air.

“time to get you clean, stinky boy,” you tell him firmly but kindly, easing him carefully down into the shallow, warm pool.

he erupts instantly—legs thrashing wildly, water exploding everywhere, soaking your shirt completely through until it clings coldly and heavily.

he sinks his teeth viciously into the sponge, rips out a ragged chunk and spits it defiantly aside, but after three stubbornly thorough scrubs and careful rinses the filthy water finally swirls darkly down the drain. that mauve coat remains impossibly vivid—unnatural, glowing softly and richly saturated under the harsh bathroom light.

“what the actual fuck are you?” you mutter quietly, toweling him slowly and thoroughly, rubbing gently over his back and belly and carefully between his tiny toes.

he shakes hard once—droplets spraying wildly across the mirror and walls—then flops dramatically onto his side with a deep, utterly exhausted huff.

you build him a thick, cozy nest in the living room corner—soft old towels piled high and plush, scattered fresh greens and a shallow dish of cool water. he explores every single inch cautiously, nose twitching constantly at the new, unfamiliar smells, thumping sharply whenever you lean in too closely.

the days ease by slowly and gently. he claims the couch boldly during late-night movies, stretches shamelessly across your lap demanding endless treats. ignore him too long and his powerful back feet drum furiously against the hardwood until you finally surrender with a soft laugh. he nuzzles your fingers now without ever drawing blood, still shoots judgmental crimson glares, still kicks playfully when the mood strikes him—but he trails you faithfully from room to room like he owns the entire place.

“you’re something else entirely, pinky,” you laugh softly one quiet night, fingers buried deeply in his plush back fur while he sprawls heavily and warmly across your chest, almost purring beneath your steady touch.

then the mood shifts brutally and suddenly.

he starts humping everything desperately within reach—pillows dragged frantically into messy piles, your abandoned sneakers, even grinding shamelessly against your calf whenever you sit still. low, guttural grunts spill constantly, fur spiked wildly in every direction, red eyes glazed burning hot with raw, frustrated need.

“pinky—seriously, what the actual fuck?” you push him downward gently, but he leaps straight back up, hips rolling insistently and completely shameless.

with the phone gripped tightly in hand you scroll quickly through rabbit forums on reddit. heat cycles, aggressive mounting behavior, every single vet page screaming urgently to neuter him fast. but nothing is open this late at night.

“shit… alright. first thing tomorrow morning, buddy. sorry, no more balls for you after that,” you sigh loudly, peeling off your clothes slowly for bed.

he freezes abruptly mid-hop—ears pinning flat against his skull. those crimson eyes narrow instantly to razor-thin slits—murder pure and absolute. one final thunderous thump rattles violently from beneath the bed frame, loud enough to vibrate the entire floor.

“don’t give me that look. it’s truly for your own good,” you call out tiredly, slipping beneath the cool sheets, body sinking heavily into the soft mattress.

deep into the quiet night an immense, crushing warmth settles slowly onto your chest—overwhelming weight stealing every bit of breath from your lungs.

your eyes crack open sluggishly in the thick darkness, heart slamming violently when faint moonlight finally carves out the massive figure crouched directly above you: seven solid feet of brutally carved muscle, thick black ink swirling heavily over broad chest and corded arms, mauve hair tousled wildly around long, floppy bunny ears that twitch irritably. a fluffy tail flicks sharply behind him. red eyes glow faintly and hungrily, fangs bared slowly in a dangerous, predatory smirk.

your eyes move lower—god fucking damn—gray sweatpants stretch obscenely tight around two massive, throbbing cocks, thick veined outlines pulsing heavily against your trembling stomach, already leaking wet, dark patches straight through the thin fabric.

your lungs fill desperately for a scream, but his huge hand clamps instantly over your mouth—calloused palm rough as coarse sandpaper, fingers long enough to span your entire face easily.

“quiet down now, brat,” he growls lowly, voice gravel-deep and vibrating intensely through your ribs. “i’m not planning to hurt you…much.”

you stare upward frozen solid, muffled whimpers leaking hotly against his rough skin. he drags his massive hand away slowly, deliberately testing your sudden silence.

“who—who the actual fuck are you? and where is my bunny?!” you whisper shakily, voice cracking thinly beneath his impossible, crushing weight.

his smirk stretches wider slowly, fangs catching the faint moonlight sharply. “sukuna. not that pathetic pinky crap you foolishly pinned on me. pinky? really?”

you gulp, thinking back now, maybe pinky wasn’t the best name for the little asshole.

he drags his nose deliberately up the length of your throat, inhaling deeply with a filthy, satisfied groan.

“been trapped far too long in that weak little runt body. your endless baths, your goddamn carrots—god. i barely tolerated them. but threatening to cut off my balls?” a dark, rumbling chuckle spills out.

“i shifted back fully so you can finally learn exactly who you’ve been teasing all this damn time.”

your heart thuds frantically and wildly, but thick, shameful heat floods low and intensely—those glowing eyes dragging you relentlessly under.

“w-what exactly do you want from me?”

the words tremble out weakly, thighs clenching tightly when he rolls his hips slowly and deliberately, both fat cocks dragging heavily over your soaked panties.

“i want to bury both these cocks balls-deep inside your little cunt,” he rasps rawly against your ear, one massive hand ripping your thin tank top clean off in one brutal, effortless yank—palm swallowing your breast roughly, thumb grinding your nipple cruelly until it peaks stiffly and achingly.

“i want to fuck you raw and filthy until you cum all over my cock—breed you completely swollen with my cum. and keep my balls exactly where they fucking belong. are we perfectly clear, brat?”

shock slams hard and sudden, but overwhelming arousal surges viciously through you—his primal, savage hunger, the monstrous throbbing size grinding relentlessly, shatters every ounce of your resistance embarrassingly fast.

you nod weakly and desperately, breath stuttering sharply as his rough thumb keeps circling in slow, cruel torment.

“oh come on, use your words, sweetheart. you’re a big girl,” he snarls, pinching your sensitive nipple until searing pleasure burns bright and stinging. “say it loud and clear.”

“yes—yes, sukuna,” you gasp brokenly, hips bucking greedily on their own. “i understand completely. please, fuck me. ruin me.”

huge, rough hands shred your soaked panties aside instantly like wet tissue paper—fabric tearing loudly in the silent room. he dives downward suddenly and savagely, face shoving roughly between your trembling thighs, broad tongue lapping filthy and wide over your slick, swollen folds, slurping obscenely as if your taste is utterly addictive.

“shit—you taste even sweeter than i expected,” he groans muffled deeply into your cunt, nose grinding hard and relentlessly against your throbbing clit while that thick, hot tongue spears deeply inside, curling insistently against your sensitive front wall until your legs quake violently around his head.

thick saliva mixes heavily with your abundant slick, dripping sloppily down your ass crack and thoroughly soaking the sheets below—his strong chin glistens completely drenched as he devours you savagely and shamelessly, sucking your swollen clit brutally between his sharp teeth, two massive fingers plunging suddenly and deeply to stretch you burning wide.

“seems like i’ve gotta get this tight, greedy hole ready—open you up properly for both my cocks, sweetheart.”

“k-kuna—fuck, it’s way too much—” you cry out loudly, fingers twisting desperately in his soft pink hair, accidentally yanking hard on his floppy ears.

he snarls deeply into your dripping cunt, tongue lashing faster and harder, fingers pounding brutally and wetly until your thighs clamp crushingly around his skull.

“come on—fucking drown me completely. soak my whole face, baby,” he mutters rawly, voice vibrating intensely straight through your pulsing clit.

you shatter instantly and violently—squirting hotly and pulsing in thick waves against his hungry mouth, back arching sharply off the bed as he swallows greedily every single filthy drop.

he flips you effortlessly onto your stomach, hauls your ass high and spreads you wide—one fat, swollen cockhead slaps heavily over your dripping entrance, the other sliding sticky and burning slowly between your cheeks.

“breathe deeply for me now. mhm, just like that,” he warns lowly.

he thrusts forward—both swollen heads breaching slowly and mercilessly at once, stretching you impossibly full, thick veined shafts dragging burning hotly over every raw, sensitive nerve until searing pain melts gradually into blinding, filthy pleasure.

his powerful hips snap forward ruthlessly, heavy balls smacking loudly and wetly against your soaked cunt, obscene sounds echoing thickly through the entire room.

“take every goddamn inch—you wanted a bunny so badly, now get fucked like one.”

his huge hand slides upward along your sweat-slick back, wraps firmly around your throat from behind—squeeze controlled perfectly, vision blurring sweetly at the edges while hot dizziness floods intensely.

“such a tight, greedy little pussy…you absolutely love getting ruined raw like a desperate, filthy whore, don’t you?” he grunts filthily, pounding impossibly deeper, visible bulges throbbing beneath your taut skin.

you whine brokenly and pathetically “yes—fuck yes,” eyes rolling back loosely, drool slipping messily from your parted lip.

he laughs darkly and deeply satisfied, tongue licking hotly and slowly up the side of your exposed neck.

he drags you suddenly into a crushing, brutal mating press—knees pinned harshly to your chest, both cocks bulging obscenely and deeply in your belly as he jackhammers into you sloppily and savagely, thick precum and slick smearing absolutely everywhere, sheets drenched completely beneath you.

“look at that pretty cunt, taking me so well. see it? ruined for anyone else.”

then he rolls you swiftly on top—bruising grip locked tightly on your hips slamming you downward hard and relentlessly, your swollen clit grinding roughly against his coarse pink bush until you squirt again violently, hot streams soaking his ripped abs and thick thighs completely.

suddenly he stands tall and powerful—your back crushed flush against his burning chest, massive arms hooking securely under your knees and locking tightly behind your head, spreading you wide open and utterly helpless. gravity impales you deeper and deeper with every brutal bounce, both throbbing shafts splitting you open completely while his floppy ears flop wildly overhead.

“perfect filthy breeder—swallowing both cocks greedily like the hungry, desperate slut you truly are.”

hours drag on endlessly in sweaty, exhausted bliss—shifting positions, fucking like rabbits. literally. your trembling body painted deeply with dark bites and blooming bruises, puffy cunt throbbing rawly around his spent cocks still buried completely to the hilt, thick ropes of cum leaking slowly and creamily around them in sticky rivulets down your shaking thighs.

he nips your ear sharply and possessively, voice rough and deeply sated against your sweat-drenched skin.

“so…got any more of those fresh carrots left somewhere, brat? ’m starving.”

KAMOSWRLD 2025 ©

masterlist!

tags - @motel6killer @cupidstrace @leiceed @kunababy @1stqueenofhell @whimsic @jjukjus @callsign-honeybeewildfox2

[darkfairy102190]

do you ship yorozu and Sukuna?

yes

no

I don't ship them, she's too annoying and clingy...

i ship my oc with Sukuna.

Voting ended onJan 13

[venusins-deactivated20260422]

✧˖*° piercer!Sukuna x reader

18+ mdni you get your nipples pierced, but then you can't stop thinking about the man who did them mention of needles! 4.1k words

The bell above the door chimes as you push it open, and the cold air escaping from inside provides instant relief from the stifling heat of the afternoon sun. 

The shop is fairly quiet as you look around, just the sound of some metal playing on low volume comes from the speakers, no other signs that anyone else is here. The walls are painted a deep red, a mix of flash sketches and black and white photos of ornate tattoos accessorizing them. It’s impossible not to note how beautiful the work is, even the less intricate or unfinished drawings. 

You make a mental note to check out this spot again for your next tattoo as you sit down, your anticipation building as you wait for an employee. You don’t have to wait for long though. After a few moments, you hear someone shuffling around as they begin making their way towards where you’re seated. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. This 6’4” giant of a man who ducks through the doorway as he runs his hand across the top of the frame and lingers there for a moment, just looking at you. His arms are decorated in unique tattoos, thick lines that wrap around his wrists and biceps, continuing across his chest from what you can tell. You see the metal complementing the tattoos on his face as he approaches. Gauges stretch his ears, a bridge piercing lies between his slit eyebrows, and his bottom lip is home to two gold hoops. Snakebites, because of course. 

Is he the one piercing me? 

You can feel your mouth watering as you stare shamelessly at the human embodiment of your type. It isn’t just that he’s huge, tatted, and pierced, but he is undoubtedly the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on. You swallow, louder than you’d  like, as he takes his time looking you up and down.

The first thing Sukuna notices about you is your outfit. He’s not sure if he wants to thank God or curse him for the temperature outside. Yeah, he’s grateful for the view, nice legs, little top, but it’s also frustrating since he is, of course, a professional. 

“You my five o’ clock?” His voice is deeper than you'd imagined.

“Yeah.” You hate how quiet your response comes out, clearing your throat before speaking again. “I haven’t chosen my jewelry yet, though,” you explain as you approach the display case.

“You’re gettin’ your nipples pierced, right?” You nod your head in response as you look up into his crimson eyes again. “You can choose anything from this side of the case.” 

You take your time looking through the options. After all, these are going to be on your body for a while, you want to make sure they’re cute. You lean over the case to get a better look at some of the pieces in the back and Sukuna mirrors you, resting his arms on the glass and inching forward to see which ones you’re considering. 

Veins spread across his forearms like lightning, distracting you almost as much as the enticing harmony of the smell of his cologne and the mint gum mixed with tobacco on his breath. You allow yourself to linger a bit longer, savoring the moment under the guise of making up your mind.

You’re subtle, but Sukuna is sharp. He knows you’re lingering, no doubt taking in his scent. Though, to be fair, he’s no better. He takes advantage of the opportunity to glance down at your chest as you bend over the case, his mind racing with thoughts that he should definitely not be having about a customer.

“I really like these… but I can’t decide if I just want to do silver, or the pair with the little gems.” You pull back to meet his gaze, wide eyes looking up at him expectantly.

He hums, a deep rumble coming from his chest, as he contemplates your dilemma. It’s almost embarrassing how that one sound alone has your stomach doing flips. 

“Plain silver’s a classic, but the gems are unique. I wouldn’t work yourself up over it, either one would look good on ya.” 

You can feel the warmth creeping up in your cheeks at his offhand comment. Sure, you knew both would look good, but you’re still wondering if there’s a pair that he might privately prefer seeing on you. 

Going with your gut, you decide on the gems. His mouth twitches, a smirk ghosting his face. It’s so quick that you might’ve missed it had you not been studying him, looking for that exact reaction.

“Good choice.” His voice is even lower than before. “Go ahead and take a seat while I get everything set up.”

Sukuna removes the chosen barbells from the case and makes his way to the back of the piercing room to prepare the rest of the materials. The thermostat on the wall in front of him catches his attention, taunting him, the mere presence of it testing the limits of his professionalism. He shakes his head lightly, silently scolding himself as he questions what the fuck is up with him today— he’s never been filled with this kind of tension at work before. 

You slide onto the chair, the skin of your bare thighs sticking to the leather and causing your soft pajama shorts to ride up. You can hear the titan tinkering around behind you. When he reappears he takes his own seat next to you.

“So, what’s your name again?” He makes idle conversation as he pulls a pair of black gloves over his hands. You hesitate for a moment, your mouth feeling dry as you think about how those same hands are going to be on you in a matter of minutes. They look huge. You know what they say about big hands… or is that feet? 

“Oi.” His voice cuts through your inappropriate train of thought and you groan internally when you realize you haven’t answered his question— just sitting there staring at him stupidly. 

You rush to tell him your name, asking for his in return. You’d filled out an appointment questionnaire on the shop’s website, so you weren’t sure who would be assigned to pierce you, but you must have the best fucking karma in the universe. Your mind is already consumed with the idea of him, and you’re desperate to know more than just his name. Gotta start somewhere.

“Name’s Sukuna,” 

“Sukuna,” you repeat it, mostly to yourself, committing the name to memory. He gives you a small hum of approval before— 

“Alright, let’s see ‘em.”

You freeze, unsure of what exactly he’s talking about, like you’d forgotten why you were even here. You’d been too distracted by the enigma beside you, trying to figure out who he is, what’s going through his head, and, more importantly, if any of it’s about you. 

“Huh?”

“I can’t pierce your nipples through your shirt.” He states, a hint of humor lacing his tone.

A blush returns to your cheeks, your ears burning. “Oh, right. Sorry.” 

You muster up as much confidence as you can, grabbing the hem of your tanktop and smoothly pulling it up, over your head, then discarding it on the table beside you. The slight breeze blowing from the air conditioning above you pulled a quiet gasp from your lips as goosebumps littered your skin and you felt your nipples harden. Was it always this cold in here? 

Your chest is on full display, heart pounding within it, and not even because a needle is about to be pushed through one of the most sensitive parts of your body.

Sukuna knows the effect he has on women, he’s not blind, he has a mirror at home. The difference now is that he’s never been one to care. Sure, sometimes if he’s feeling particularly pent up he’ll bring someone home with him to blow off some steam, but that’s the extent of it. 

He doesn’t need to see them again, talk to them again, perfectly content on his own. He’s also never indulged in any urges about his clients, always determined to maintain a high degree of professionalism to protect his store’s reputation. But, as Sukuna gazes upon the half-naked woman before him, he finds himself now forgetting what she’s really there for. He can feel his morals wavering. It’s not like they were ever very strong to begin with.

Sukuna clears his throat gruffly, forcing himself to refocus on the task at hand. Picking up the first needle and his forceps, he leans closer to you before pausing. 

“Ready?” He asks, checking in with you before proceeding.

“As I’ll ever be.” 

Another gasp escapes you when you feel the cold metal of the forceps against your exposed skin. His warm touch as he rests his other hand against the side of your breast to align the needle is a welcome contrast. 

Sukuna’s eyes flick up to yours, searching them for any sense of hesitation. Instead, he sees blown pupils staring back at his, flushed cheeks, and your mouth parted as your breath quickens ever so slightly. He doesn’t see the way you close your legs together tighter, scared he might also notice the wetness that has started to pool between them. 

He doesn’t need to see everything though, he’s already certain he knows what you’re feeling, and that has his entire body buzzing with excitement. 

“Take a deep breath now.”

You do as he says, inhaling deeply and closing your eyes, knowing what’s coming on the exhale. As you release the breath you were holding, you feel the sharp sting of his needle piercing through your skin. He pulls back, moving to grab the first barbell, following it in swiftly.

The adrenaline coursing through your body acts as a numbing agent, and when the pain dulls the feeling of the jewelry sliding through the new hole evokes another involuntary sigh.

Sukuna cocks an eyebrow. “Feelin’ alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay,” you respond quickly, nodding your head for corroboration. 

“You’re doing so well for me, just one more.” Fuck. He has to know what he’s doing, saying shit like that. Right?

You take another deep breath and he repeats the process on the other side. It’s more painful than the last as the adrenaline rush begins to wear off. But this does nothing to snuff out the fire that’s been lit inside you, his words of praise lingering, rekindling it instead. 

“All done. How was that?” 

“Good,” you nod, “wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be.”

“Atta girl.”

He’s finished, but he has yet to pull back, the cloud of tension between you becoming stronger. He definitely knew what he was doing. 

After what feels like hours, he reclines, turning around to grab something off the table behind him. He passes you a hand-held mirror for you to inspect the new customization to your character. Excitement around your new ornaments takes over your emotions and you’re ogling your own chest as Sukuna peels off his gloves and begins telling you about the aftercare.

“ - so ultimately, just try to leave ‘em alone for at least six to eight weeks. That includes other people too.” He adds the last part reluctantly.

“Okay. I think I’ve got it.” You’re running over everything he said in your mind, hoping you didn’t forget anything already, before putting your top back on, wincing slightly at the contact with your sensitive nipples.

You follow him back to the counter to pay, racking your brain for something else to say to him. You almost want to just outright ask for his number, but the thought of him shooting you down stops you— you are a client after all, surely they have policies about that.

He slides the receipt across the glass barrier separating you with one hand, the other extending towards you with a pen for you to sign. As you grab it, you can feel your fingertips brushing his and Sukuna notices the way your eyes dart down to the paper in front of you. Cute. At this point, he can’t help it, he decides that surely it won’t hurt to just—

“Here, gimme your phone.” He speaks up, breaking the silence.

You grab it without hesitation, unlocking it before you pass it to him, now standing on your tip-toes so you can peer over the screen. Your heart rate increases to what must be an unhealthy pace as you watch as he searches for the contacts app, opening it and clicking the little plus sign in the corner. He types his name and number into the respective spaces before saving your newest contact. Sukuna.

A sense of vindication wells up inside you. “You can text me if there’s any problems with the healing process or if you’ve got any questions.” Oh. As quickly as it came, the feeling evaporates. 

“Thanks so much!” You hide your disappointment with a smile and a wave as you head out the door, the bell chiming above you again.

Sukuna knows that what he said is bullshit. Still, it helped him feel better about himself after giving his personal number to a client. Especially one whose breasts he just touched.

Weeks go by, and the only constant is the thought in the back of your mind. Like a parasite, it burrowed itself deep into your brain and now you couldn’t get rid of it. You wanted to see Sukuna again. You’d never forgive yourself if you let a specimen such as him get away from you. 

You huff, rolling over to bury your face in your pillow in frustration. You’d typed and deleted an embarrassing number of messages at this point, and still hadn’t texted him a single thing. You’d never been one to shy away from things like this, but the nature of your relationship with him was giving you pause. He was a professional, and he made that clear after he gave you his number, tension or not. 

You sit up quickly, hit with an epiphany, you’re typing out your best idea yet. 

hey, this is y/n, you pierced me a couple weeks ago the piercings have been hurting a bit, i was wondering if you could take a look at them?

His reply comes fast, almost immediate. But so did your doubts. This actually wasn’t your best idea. Your piercings had healed perfectly, and he’d see that the minute you showed him. It was too late now though.

Sukuna sure. wanna come by the shop today around 6?

It’s just before 6:00 when you’re pulling into the empty parking lot. You may or may not have done your makeup and put on another pair of too-short pajama shorts before leaving the house, and may or may not have worn one of your favorite pairs of underwear. You know, just in case. 

With a deep breath you push open the door, the familiar sound of the bell chiming above you. This time, he’s waiting for you, tall and broad behind the counter. His eyes do a slow scan of your body, shamelessly, like the first time you met. And again, your stomach swirls. 

Sukuna had been waiting all summer for you to text him, checking his phone for that exact notification to pop up. He’d considered the possibility that your message may have been genuine, and that you really were taking him up on his offer. But now? With you back in front of him in another little outfit, pretty thighs on display and his pretty piercings showing through your top? He can’t stop the coy smile that spreads across his face. 

His eyes meet yours and he cocks his head, nodding towards his station. “Let’s go in there and I’ll take a look.” 

He pats the chair and you hop onto it as he pulls his gloves back on. When Sukuna turns back around this time he doesn’t need to ask you, you’re already pulling your shirt up with minimal hesitation. You let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you finally expose yourself to him again and catch the way his jaw flexes. 

“You said they were hurtin’?” he asks skeptically. They look fine to him— well, more than fine actually. He thinks they look like the best piercing job he’s ever done on the best pair of tits he’s ever seen. But more relevantly, they don’t look irritated in the slightest. 

“Mhmm.”

“You sure? Cause they look like they’re healed.” 

“O-oh,” you sputter, “Weird, I don’t know.” 

You have to avert your eyes from his intense stare, so you don’t see the amusement etched into his features. He’s done pretending, playing this little game. You feel the heat radiating off of him as he leans in close, warmer even than the heat pooling between your thighs. Large hands come down on the table, planted on either side of you, caging you into your seat. 

“Don’t need to make excuses, y’know.” His voice is low, he speaks softly into your ear, “can jus’ tell me next time you wanna show me those perfect tits.”

Your breath hitches at his forwardness. You know you weren’t sly about everything, but you also weren’t expecting him to call you out on it so brashly. 

He pulls back, just enough to look you in the eyes again. “That’s what you really wanted, right?” You nod, your breath quickening at the proximity and his directness. “Wanna hear you say it, tell me what ya want from me.” 

“I want you, Sukuna.” A hum of approval sounds deep in his throat at your admission. It’s all out in the open now, and he’s tired of holding himself back. 

He raises a hand to your face and grabs your chin, then closes the gap between you two, planting his lips on yours with a rough kiss. You can feel the desperation that was pent up inside him, you can taste it. The way his tongue is already eagerly slipping between your lips, the way his chest is heaving as his hand moves to your nape, holding you firmly against him. His other hand moves to the swell of your ass and he groans into your mouth. 

You pull away, but only so you can leave a trail of sloppy kisses down his neck before your tongue slides out to lick a slow stripe back up it. 

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “So bold now.” 

Both hands slide along your torso, meeting at your chest. He cups your breasts, squeezing gently first, gauging your reaction. A soft moan falling from your lips urges him to continue and he squeezes harder, palming at the soft tissue, rolling the piercings between his fingertips. You’re louder now, sensitive, arching into him for more.

“‘M glad you picked these, they sit so pretty on you.” 

He divides his attention, a hand moving effortlessly from one side of your chest to the other, playing with your nipples as the other snakes between your thighs. You spread your legs for him on instinct, making him smirk as he dips into your panties and finds the wetness pooling there. 

“Fuck— soaked already?”

You can only whimper in reply because he’s already pushing two fingers inside with a humiliating squelch that makes him groan. His cock aches in his jeans, already hard from feeling how your pussy is sucking him in as he starts to fuck you with his fingers. He takes his time, curling, scissoring, spreading you open as he preps you to take him. 

You’re holding onto his shoulders, your head resting in the crook of his neck and he can hear your breathing, he feels the hot air fanning against him. It gets quicker, heavier, when he brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in sync with the digits pumping in and out of you.

“Feels s’good, keep going,” you moan against his skin, fingernails digging in as you feel your orgasm building. 

Sukuna listens. He listens to what you say, how your body reacts to each little thing he does, because he has one motivation— to make you cum before he fucks you. 

And he fulfills that purpose. He’s so intentional, so precise, to the point where it’s mean. It’s only been a few minutes and you can’t even think about that because you’re overwhelmed with the pleasure of coming undone on his fingers, shaking, whimpering, dripping. 

“That’s it,” he coos, “look so pretty when you cum f’me.”

He slides his hand out of you, bringing it up to his lips for a taste and it’s one he’ll never forget. One little taste and his need for you is overwhelming, suffocating him. And before you can process what’s happening he’s yanking off his jeans and his shirt before picking you up and carrying you over to his chair. He sits you down on his lap and you feel his bulge prodding at your entrance.

With hands on your hips he grinds you against him a few times, making you gasp at the stimulation to your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, need to feel you around me,” he groans. 

“Wan’ you to fuck me, Sukuna,” you whine, voice laced with desire as you lift off of him and move to free his stiff cock. He raises his hips to make it easier for you, and when you finally pull his underwear down… you almost regret it. 

His dick slaps up against his abdomen, and holy shit is it intimidating. Thick and veiny, long and heavy, it’s decorated with two black lines tattooed just under the flushed head and there’s silver glinting at the tip, where he’s leaking precum around his Prince Albert piercing. 

He’s grinning devilishly, watching the way your jaw hangs slack. “Scared, baby?”

You swallow loudly and shake your head, expression turning to one of determination. “Uh-uh, still want you.”

“Good girl.” 

His nimble fingers pull the damp, flimsy fabric covering your pussy to the side for you, and you start to sink down onto him. He grunts loudly when he bottoms out, holding you still. You think it’s him allowing you a moment to adjust to his size, but he’s just trying not to cum right then and there. With the way you’re squeezing him so tight, he can’t believe you took him in so well. 

“Knew this pussy would feel good, but f-fuck, fuckin’ heavenly.” 

His grip on your hips is bruising as he lifts you up only to slam you back down onto his length, once, twice, three times, splitting you open. And then he’s fucking you fast and hard. His tip kisses your cervix with each thrust of his hips up into you, to meet the pull of your hips down onto him. 

“A-ah! Sukuna, s-s’good.” You’re whining, head thrown back as he drills into your poor pussy. 

He can’t get enough of you like this, moaning loud, your sopping cunt even louder, and your tits bouncing as you ride his dick. Your tits— fuck. Each time he looks at them he feels a wave of possessiveness wash over him. The fact that he pierced them, a permanent reminder of him, has his mind running wild. His thoughts spiral and he’s fucking you now like he’s trying to carve the shape of him into your pussy, desperate to leave another piece of him in you.

“Takin’ my cock like you were fuckin’ made for it. You like when I fuck you like this?” 

“Yes! Love it, ‘Kuna.” 

Kuna. He needs to hear that again. 

He lets one of his hands drift back to your clit and you cry out when you feel him rubbing tight circles on the sensitive bud. You can feel yourself approaching your peak again. Sukuna’s taking you higher and higher with each glide of his dick against your walls, and you’re not sure how long you can keep up with his brutal pace. His breathing is ragged. His hips stutter as he feels you clenching around him, signalling your impending release.

“Kuna, gonna cum, please! R-right there, fuck–” 

“Fuck, yeah, cum all over my cock, pretty girl.” 

And you do. With quivering thighs, you keen, your climax crashing over you. The sight of you falling apart because of him, flushes cheeks glossy lips parted in an ‘o’. The feeling of your cunt gushing and your walls fluttering with the aftershock of your orgasm, it all drives Sukuna over the edge. Using the last ounce of his brainpower he grabs the underside of your thighs, harshly pulling you up and off of him. You fall into his heaving chest as he sets you down on his thighs, his cum spurting out onto his stomach.

“Almost came inside ya, shit.” His voice is strained, tired from the weight of his release. “Fuckin’ pussy whipped, never wanted to do that before.”

His comment makes you laugh, “maybe next time.”

a/n: no one wants to know the woman i'd become if this man was not only real BUT also a piercer/tattoo artist

[spideyyeet]

➷ Unspoken Conditions ✦ 3 || Call Me

fratboy!sukuna x f!reader — fwb ✦ ongoing series

[ SERIES SYNOPSIS ] — it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students, with very high libidos, and didn’t want any random stds that this was a purely sexual relationship only. and yet, both of you are unintentionally toeing the line between that and something else. —

[ TAGS ] — [18+]. MDNI. nsfw. angst. piv. size kink. rough. spitting. degradation. dacryphilia. fingering. masturbation. scent kink. sukuna has anger issues. sukuna’s really big. oral f!recieving. cum shot. plot. wc: 13.1k

series masterlist ✮ previous chp ✮ next chp (coming soon)

quiet silence filled the night. the steady rise and fall of your chest seemed to ease the pounding in sukuna’s head, pressing himself closer to you eventually pulling him to sleep.

after he’d muttered the quiet words against you, revealing the truth behind his hectic and miserable week, he didn’t add anything further. no further explanation of his family trauma, or why he was yelling on the phone. instead he just allows his shoulders to relax, brushing his lips against your jaw again, sighing against the warm skin, silently praying you can take the hint and be satisfied with that.

unfortunately for him, neither of you are mind readers. and the revelation only triggered an array of thoughts swirling in your mind. eventually being the reason you woke up the next morning.

the sun peaked through your sheer curtains as you rolled onto your back. sukuna’s arm loosely wrapped around your waist, laying on his stomach. the gentle rise of his back clear evidence of his exhaustion.

your lips purse.

fingers gently picking the corners of your eyes as you continue staring at the man sleeping peacefully beside you. his unruly pink hair falling over his forehead reaching just the top of his thick brows. his lashes lightly kiss his cheek, face calm.

his sharp intimidating features are gentle.

wetting your lips, you slowly sit up. thoughts swirling around the man. you carefully lean over him, grabbing your phone on the nightstand. the time blinks back at you, an annoying itch ticking your eye, you barely have time to get ready.

reluctantly, you maneuver off the man, setting his arm in your empty spot before crawling off the bed.

your eyes drift back to him when he shifts his leg. blanket falling perfectly over the curve of his toned ass. one arm tucked under the pillow, muscles taunt comfortably. your fingers grip the light fabric of your cardigan, brows pinched in thought, before crawling back to him.

your touch is gentle, afraid to disturb him, but also being your intention. your finger lightly brushes his nape, scratching under his ear as you lean over.

“ryo?”

you swallow the nervous lump, unsure, but ultimately shaking him lightly just to hear the gruff groan as he buries himself deeper into your pillows.

“it’s almost nine. i don’t know if y’have class too, but I’m gonna head out,” you hesitate, gauging his response as he lightly blinks, eyes squinting at the light. “you can sleep. the door locks automatically behind so it’s fine if y’leave later.”

his slow blinks clearly indicate nothings registering, especially when his eyes fall back shut. steady breath resuming.

well, you tried.

your morning routine is rushed afterwards. quickly showering and stepping out of the bathroom, and slipping into your room to grab some clothes. your eyes watch the man, still unmoving as you slip on your shirt, quickly stepping out to grab a quick post it. scribbling a short message for him before sticking it right on top his phone, giving him one final look before leaving.

now unlike you, sukuna paid no mind to what he told you that night. instead sleeping for most of the afternoon until his phone finally went off. no longer able to sleep through them, he grumbles into the pillow, sighing even louder when your scent suddenly floods his senses. fuck, he grumbles your name, not hearing a response he feels the bed. the cold sheets his clear answer. with a louder groan, he buries his face further into your pillow.

“haah,” his jaw tightens, rolling his hips down on the mattress, arms tightening around the pillow, eyes screwed shut in shameful pleasure as he gets off to the scent of your bedsheets. this was much better than fucking at his place, he thinks.

groan rumbling deep in his chest as he recalls your moans from last night, the pretty bruises that decorate your ass now. “fu-ck,” he chokes. he was inside you raw, his abs tighten, the way your velvety walls clamped around him, and your little whimpers as you pushed back, waiting for him to fuck you.

his face turned groaning at the friction, hand moving between his body, grabbing his base pushing it harder against the mattress. your sweet voice echoing in his ear, the flowery scent mixed with your natural aroma had his eyes rolling back,

ryo.

“ngh-shit—“

his body convulses, abs clenching and balls tightening as a spurt of cum hits the mattress. his hips buck, rutting harder into the mess, cock head rubbing against the soft fabric, inhaling the pillow with more vigor until he’s spilling more ropes of warm cum onto your precious bed.

his chest heaves, pressing his face into the pillow as he catches his breath. the distant cars in the background and the few voices screaming down the street has him slowly blinking the haze away.

his lips downturn, jaw clenching at the sticky mess beneath him, a shameful result of how he’d just humped your bed and in less than five minutes, had already cum all over it.

“fuck me,” he mutters lowly, rolling off the mess to sit up. eyes darkening at the spilled cum on your soft sheets. how pathetic is he? his eyes trail up, glancing over the few plushies he’d remember knocking to the floor and a few getting stuck between the mattress and wall. his mind was definitely set on you last night. he glanced further up, breath catching at the sight of your room.

cute. was the first word that came to mind.

his cheeks sting as he sat up, hand lazily tugging his cock, to wipe the excess cum dripping from his tip, standing in front of your wall. his lip upturns at the few postcards you had up, along with a handful of movie tickets you’d taped haphazardly up. his eyes continue soaking up your room. brushing his chest as he reached out to touch the cute zoro look up figure you had on your desk.

you were a full blown closeted nerd, he laughs to himself.

there was more trinkets around the small bedroom. candles and hanging plants, and a few books on a shelf.

then there were the photos taped beside your mini dresser. another airy laugh escapes his lips as he sees you in most of them. recognizing your two friends, shoko and utahime, in most of them. most of these photos has them in it, a few others were of another girl he’s never seen around you before. then there was one with gojo in it, he tsks.

his fingers dance over a few in curiosity. your hair was different in a couple—

buzz.

his short bubble of peace is popped in seconds. mind pulsing like a reaction as he drags his feet to the nightstand. brows pinching at the post it stuck to his phone, before answering.

his gramps voice was enough of a wake up call as any, the sharp barking on the other line triggering sukuna’s headache from last night. his scowl returning as his gaze skimmed over the note you’d left, your handwriting rushed, but still tidy enough that he’s wondering if you wrote it before or after you got changed.

his memory foggy, unable to fully register whether the soft voice he heard in the morning was really from you or his dream.

“are you even listening to me, boy?”

the clipped tone snaps sukuna back, jaw tensing as he tosses the note on the nightstand with a tsk directed towards his gramps. “i saw ya last night, what’s the problem now? seriously, you said y’wanted to stay out of this—“

“so you weren’t listenin’,” his grandfather tsks, sukuna licks his teeth in annoyance. hearing the old man take a deep breath, pushing down the frustration of having to repeat himself again, before continuing. “your brother skipped school, said he was sick this mornin’, I let him stay since i know he overheard everythin’ las’ night. but I’m comin’ back from the shop and the kids gone. not answering his phone. did he call you?”

sukuna’s face grows pale, falling down on the bed to put the phone on speaker and check his missed calls and texts.

“why’re you lettin’ him skip?” sukuna barks, “y’ never let me skip when I was in high school.”

“and look how y’ both turned out,” his gramps snaps, just as frustrated.

there’s no missed calls from choso, or texts since last night. his jaw tightens, checking his other missed calls, one from toji, “did y’ talk to toji?”

“called him first.”

sukuna’s eye twitches, “thanks.”

“he lives closer. and has a car, don’t give me lip,”his gramps snaps again.

“lemme try callin’ him, I’ll call you back if he doesn’t answer, and I’ll take the next train up,” sukuna’s running a hand through his disheveled hair, tugging at the roots as he ends the call before his gramps can say anything. swallowing the tightening around his chest as he quickly taps his younger brothers number, waiting impatiently, leg bouncing with each ring.

the veins on his neck strain when he hears the operator. curses falling from his mouth as he swipes out checking his other missed calls, and texts, until he’s suddenly getting a call from gojo.

“what?” sukuna snaps.

“morning to you too. do you not check your phone in the morning?” the fraternity president’s voice rings on the other line.

“I have a late class anyways,” sukuna grumbles, “y’need something?”

“yeah, first of all where the fuck are you? second of all, we have your younger brother hostage here.”

sukuna’s up. “what? choso?” he barks.

“yup, tried sneaking in here. and the pledges got him,” gojo explains, with an airy tone.

sukuna’s blood pressure spikes, jaw tense, “why the fuck—don’t let him leave, I’ll be there in thirty.”

“I I captain.”

—

one thing that you can guarantee about sukuna is he’ll be on time. and those thirty minutes of rushing through your apartment, ripping the covers off your bed and stuffing them in your washing machine, grabbing his shit and dashing out. was also accompanied by the rising anger pumping his veins.

his muscles tense. and by the time the front door swung open, everyone was holding their breath.

choso, aka. sukuna’s fifteen year old brother, was completely still when he locked eyes with the older brute.

“you.” sukuna seethes, footsteps heavy as he stomps over.

“wait!” choso yells, hand out as he tries turning to climb over the couch ready to bolt, but gojo was holding him down. “let me explain, ryo!”

“explain? why the fuck are you here?!” sukuna’s charging, arm extending to grab the kids collar yanking him up.

choso was still a growing teen. so the size difference, and strength difference between the brothers was completely unfair.

“I wanted to talk to you, man! c’mon put me down!” choso is grabbing at his brother’s forearm, struggling in his grip. the dark circles under his eyes a clear indication of teens restless night.

geto, who’d just come back from the kitchen, cautiously put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “calm down. he definitely just came to see you.”

the living room is still. the three boys quietly waiting to see what sukuna decides. his chest still heaving like an animal, desperately trying to swallow his anger, before releasing the kid, watching him fall back on the couch.

choso rubs his homemade band t-shirt, the material strained from his brothers grip of it.

“outside, now.”

the order is immediately followed by choso scrambling up. trailing quickly behind his older brother as they both step outside into the backyard. sliding door slamming behind them.

the ticking in sukuna’s jaw is not easily missed by his brother. the younger awkwardly stands in front of him as he sits on the concrete steps of the shitty frat patio. his arms propped on his knee as he leans forward, gaze lidded as he glares at the kid.

“I’ll hear y’out for sixty seconds, then I’m taking you home.”

choso’s shoulders tense, fighting the scowl on his face, fists tightening. “i heard what you guys were talkin’ about last night.” sukuna doesn’t react, only further escalating his brother’s emotions. “i feel like i get to have a say in this, and you didn’t even talk to me about it!”

the older brother leans back, glare harsher as he cocks his head to the side. “it wasn’t just my decision. gramps makes the calls—“

“gramps hates her and you do too!” choso snaps, chest heaving, eyes already brimming with tears.

“and you don’t?” sukuna’s stare rips through, reading his brother way too easily as the younger averts his gaze quickly. shoulders tensing up again.

“i…” choso swallows a lump. “i want to talk to her too….i wanna know why she left.”

“because she’s a piece of shit,” sukuna snaps, standing up as choso glares at him. “and I don’t give a flying shit why she’s back, and you shouldn’t either—“

“but I do!”

sukuna’s gaze sinks deeper, voice dropping as he seethes the next words out, every vein in his body straining, as if he’s controlling some beast from taking him over. “she killed dad.”

the leaves brush past their feet. wind waffling through the space between them.

choso shifts his weight, throat closing up as he looks away, tears stinging his eyes.

it wasn’t fair. nothing is really, and that’s a simple fact of life. sukuna’s hand comes down, gently, on choso’s shoulder. shadow casting over him as towers over the teen. his thumb tapping the kids cheek getting him to look up. “she’s not coming anywhere near you or yuuji.” sukuna’s eyes bore into him. “and that’s final.”

choso swallows another lump, jaw clenching.

“got it?”

gojo and geto glance up once the sliding door opens. sukuna walking back in, with choso sulking behind him. head down, hair over his face.

“everything okay?” gojo asks cautiously.

“yeah,” sukuna crosses the kitchen and living room. “gonna change real quick, keep an eye on him.” sukuna disappears upstairs, missing the way choso mutters, I’m not going anywhere.

—

the stale air of the library, and hushed whispers in corners seemed to be infinitely more distracting when you’re trying to focus on your work.

especially with the way shoko’s tapping her pen on her iPad as she reads over her lectures. your eyes unable to rip away from the movement, only allowing your thoughts to trail back to your morning recitation. jaw clenching as you look back down at your notes.

you had two more finals for this class, and you still haven’t heard from any of the places you applied to do research in over the summer. or from the clinics you wanted to volunteer in near campus.

the twist in your chest grew tighter. teeth pulling at the skin of your lips.

“wait, do you remember what we had to do here?” shoko interrupts, pushing her laptop so you can see the study guide she’s practicing.

you blink, scrolling up on your own iPad since you’d just done this study guide last night, your cheeks flushing as you explain it over to shoko, remembering sukuna interrupting you, and correcting something you’d done on the question.

shoko nods along, copying your work, which you don’t mind, not when you know you couldn’t have done it without his help.

however, this doesn’t stop your mind from wandering back to the six foot so tall man, wondering when he’d gotten up this morning? whether he saw your note? your bite your cheek, shifting in your seat, the bruises on your ass a constant reminder of what happened last night.

hopefully he didn’t skip any classes. your lips purse subtly as you tap his messages. nothing after last night…

you know he told you to text if you needed anything. but you don’t…at least nothing that has to do with sex. so it doesn’t count if you ask how he’s doing, right?

“okay thanks—ugh! I’m gonna fail this exam, I haven’t been paying attention at all,” shoko moans, earning glares from a few students near by.

you cringe, closing your phone, anxiety crawling up your throat. “please don’t say that, because if you fail then there’s a ninety-nine percent chance I’m failing too.”

shoko’s head falls on the table. “we’re so fucked.”

this wasn’t a good feeling.

the second churning in your gut. the palpating of your heart. everything feeling like these exams were the only thing saving you from the summer, and will be the ultimate reason whether you land some miracle of an internship this close to the break.

the sinking in your chest painfully spreading at the thought of your father’s inevitable phone call during finals week. the looming question of what you’ll be doing this summer felt like barbed wire wrapping around your neck.

“at least you have something to fall back on in the summer,” shoko cuts through your thoughts. your eyes widening momentarily, quickly pushing it down.

“yeah…” you mutter, glancing at your notes as shoko lifts her head.

“I wish my dad was a fucking surgeon, but he’s just a basic accountant. don’t get me wrong—i know how hard you work, but also…medical nepotism is such a steal. please please get me to at least shadow your dad over the summer, i don’t even need the internship,” shoko rants, only getting like this after four cups of straight coffee and no smoking breaks. your lips upturn.

“I already told him about you, I’ll get you the internship, don’t worry,” you chuckle, anxiety clawing at your skin.

shoko’s eyes light up. “okay please! I don’t wanna get my hopes up, but you’re the only thing I’ll have this summer.”

your face softens, lips gently pulling into a smile as you hum. the disgusting twist of jealousy simmering inside, itching at you. as much as shoko complains about the million exams you both have and struggles to stay awake during lectures, at the core of it all…she desperately wants to be a doctor. even though that means going through another four years of med school, and then more years spent doing residency. and the thought of that alone has you squeezing your wrist.

“are you gonna answer that?” shoko interrupts again, eyeing your buzzing phone.

“oh,” your lips part, a shot of adrenaline running through you once you see the familiar name. “one sec.” you mutter, standing up to excuse yourself to the hall. answering.

“hi.”

“hey,” the low rumble of his voice flows straight into your ear, warming your cheeks. “you wanna come over later?”

you glance down at your watch. “when? I’m jus’ gonna be studying for a few more hours.”

“whenever you’re done. I’m not home yet either, so no rush,” his gravely tone has you hiring the volume. distant voices in the background.

“oh, you still have class or practice now?”

“neither,” he tsks, quickly correcting himself. “my brother stopped by this morning. had to take him back to my gramps.”

your eyes widen at the reveal, stunned for a moment, before recovering. “you have a brother?”

“yeah, two younger ones,” he says. your lips curl. that fits, you think, definitely seeing the man as the eldest son. It explains a lot about his character. “what about you? you have any brothers?”

you shake your head, “no brothers. just an older sister.”

“hot.”

“she’s married,” you frown. sukuna’s contagious laugh breaks through the speaker, your cheeks flushing at the sound.

however between that moment, sukuna seems to connect the dots to the unknown girl in your photos. “she’s the one in your pictures.”

your brows pinch, “what pictures?”

“the ones in y’r room.”

your cheeks flush, almost forgetting the man has agency, and looked around your room after leaving him alone there. there wasn’t much to hide except—

“would’ve never guessed you’d be a movie geek. hiding everything in your room.”

“I wasn’t hiding anything. and I always talk about films,” you mutter defensively.

“oh films, my bad,” he snorts, ignoring the flip in your tummy at the teasing. “well come over and we can watch a film after.”

your pout can almost be felt through the phone. “you don’t have to bribe me with movies. sex is enough.”

it’s sukuna’s turn to flush, chuckling lightly as he takes a seat on the train. “yeah?” his voice lowers, just so his phone can pick up his words. “I didn’t break ya last night?”

“as if,” you shoot, hearing him chuckle again.

“how’s y’r ass?”

you flush, “it’s fine.”

“i didn’t get to see it in the mornin’,” he starts, dragging each syllable. “made y’cry a lot. big fat tears everytime a touched that pretty ass.”

“I wasn’t crying,” you tsk, cheeks beyond hot.

“you were,” he laughs, “s’ okay, I don’t mind y’ being a crybaby…gets me hard.”

“oh my god, shut up,” you huff, heart pounding erratically. the man barking out a loud laugh, as if you’re some fucking comedian.

“I’ll be at the frat in two-ish hours, come anytime. y’ can also get there before me and wait on my bed,” he teases.

“you want me naked, or should I keep the panties on for you?” you play along, not expecting the deep groan to hit your ear, chills running down your spine, heat pooling between your legs.

“fuck. yeah keep the panties on, wanna take em off myself.”

you swallow thickly unable to form words as you hum.

“kay, I’ll see y’later, crybaby,” the line cuts.

you’re frozen for a moment. lips parting before your hand is slapping your cheek. ignoring shoko’s raised brow when you return to your seat, you quickly pick up your pen, putting more energy than before to focus on your work.

unfortunately, just like most things for you. your studying goes on longer than you planned. the pulsing in your temples a testament to how much you and shoko fried your brains. hand cramping from the notes you took rewatching most of the lectures from the first half of the semester, preparing to do the second half tomorrow and sunday.

the campus was quiet. the few sound of cars passing in the distance, and rowdy campus bars still open this late. the noise seemed to be the only thing keeping you awake as you drudged down the street.

eventually arriving at the door step of the two story greek house. stifling another yawn as you press the doorbell.

your eyelids slowly betray you, swaying as they kept falling shut.

“you look worse than me,” the distant sound has you looking up. gaze softening with exhaustion at the sight of sukuna dressed in low hanging sweats and an oversized sweater, hair damp.

“I hate studying,” you mumble, dragging your feet towards the man, pressing your face into his chest, bag hitting the ground by your feet. “it’s so hard,” your words muffle against his sweater, arms coming up pathetically holding his shoulders, head tilting back to look at the fratboy.

his hand easily comes to your waist, rubbing the material of your shirt, as you pull him down, a bit too eagerly. “are you actin’ needy righ’now?”

your arms circle his neck, nodding your head once his lips brush yours, a small sigh escaping your parted mouth. “just a little…’s that okay?”

he chuckles, canines peaking as he licks his lips. “as long as I get to suck this pussy.”

“please shut up,” you grumble, lips pressing against his, ignoring the flip in your stomach when you feel him smiling. tongue easily slipping in, wet smacks filling the air as he locks your hips against his, leaning over, still kissing at the door until an obnoxious voice cuts in.

“close the door! all the bugs are comin’ in!”

sukuna pulls away with a tsk. he licks his lips, tugging you inside.

your fingers quickly snatch your bag, following his, lips parting momentarily to ask for some water, until you hear a groan in the corner.

your eyes slowly trail over to the living room, face going pale, muscles tensing…

sukuna halts, feeling you stop behind him, hand around your wrist as he turns, brow quirked.

“you good—“

your jaw clenches. tongue poking your cheek as you glance up, meeting his quirked brow with controlled anger. “i came…because you called.”

his lips upturn, “yeah.”

“then,” you swallow thickly, “tell “em to stop using those boys as foot stools,” your words cut through sharply.

sukuna raises a brow, looking over his shoulder in disinterest, almost forgetting how gojo and a couple of the other senior members of the frat are huddled on the couches, watching a movie, while the pledges are down on their hands and knees, being used as their own personal foot stools, some even balancing beer bottles and coffee mug on their bare backs.

sukuna chuckles humorously, licking his teeth. “you serious?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, brows pinching in mild hurt. god, you hate fraternities so much. your rub your cheek, unable to look away from the boys, noticing a few in the corner in push-up position, arms trembling and faces red.

sukuna has to control his eye roll, especially when he notices the way your jaw tightens, brows pinching even more, eyes swimming with anger. his grip doesn’t waver, tugging you in the opposite direction towards the stairs.

“we’re gonna be upstairs anyways, it never bothered you before,” he cuts heartlessly. your chest tightening, eyes snapping to his.

“well i never saw,” you spit.

sukuna tsks, loud and uncontrolled, eyes rolling exasperated, and head falling back, sharp jaw straining. there’s another beat. your eyes are lidded with annoyance at his hesitance. god forbid you don’t want to see a bunch of freshmen abused for no reason—

“on your feet!”

the sudden bark cut through the air. the pledges all scrambling to their feet at the command. a few bottles crashing on the ground as they all stand, sweating profusely. gojo lurched back when one pledge sent coffee spilling on his feet.

“what the fuck?” his eyes snap to the vice president. “excuse me?”

“we’ve got a lady here who’s suddenly bothered by this. so let’s be respectful,” sukuna sarcastically spits, already feeling your glare before meeting your eyes.

your name falls from gojo’s lips, brow quirking up. “seriously? when have you been bothered?”

“why does everyone keep saying that?” you snap, groaning in frustration. “always. I’ve always been bothered.” you huff, turning abruptly and stomping up the stairs.

sukuna and gojo exchange looks, both irritated and confused. sukuna rubs the bridge of his nose.

“just make sure she’s not seein’ shit.”

“she your girlfriend now?” gojo snorts.

sukuna glares, eyes sharp. “don’t start.”

gojo puts his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying, if she’s making demands around here I’m only assuming,” he laughs, a few other seniors joining in. sukuna scowls, dark orbs biting through them.

“just do me favor,” sukuna spits with a scowl, “I’ve done more jus’ so you can get pussy.”

gojo groans, head falling back. “yeah, whatever, okay,” he waves him off.

once sukuna settles the house, he eventually drags his feet upstairs. rough palms rubbing together, mind swirling with the problem that is you now.

at least you didn’t leave, is all he’s thinking. mind racking through ideas of how he’ll get you to let him fuck you. hopefully you’re not waiting up in his room to talk, because he sure as hell is not prepared to discuss the intricacies of the fraternity and pledges.

his jaw locks, eyes closing, twisting the handle of his door. deep breath—

the room is silent. your shoes neatly placed beside his door, bag a few feet away. then he hears the clearing of a sweet girl’s throat, catching his attention. his gaze tracks up, prepared for a scowl except—

“shiit…”

“i left the panties on for you,” you tilt your head to the side, moment broken briefly by your small yawn. but it doesn’t stop him from gawking in awe. throat tightening immediately, pupils dilating.

his tongue darts out to wet his lips, drinking in the sight of you sitting on your side, unclothed on his bed. the glow from his desk light enough for him to soak up the softness of your skin, the curve of your hips, your nipples perked up from the cool air, and your tired gaze heavy, and gentle, lashes kissing your cheeks every few seconds as you wait for him.

“you’re….” he stops himself, drawling closer to the bed like you’re some siren luring him in. his large form crawls over you like some deprived needy man. hand wrapping around your throat tilting your head to meet his lips in a passionate kiss.

“I’m what?” you pant, hand grasping his clothed bicep, as he presses a thumb under your chin, tipping your head further back, tongue playing with yours.

“you’re impossible,” he groans, letting his knee slot between your legs, kissing you hungrily. your head tips back, allowing him to trail wet kisses down your neck, sucking on the same bruises he left last night. continuing his path down your precious body, giving your breasts close attention as he latches his lips onto each hot nipple, squeezing them together and groping them.

your head tilts back on the sheets, arms relaxing by your side as he kisses down your stomach, licking a strip to taste the sweat you’ve collected throughout the day. your natural pretty scent invading his nose, and without wanting he presses his face between your legs.

“fuck ryo,” you sigh, stroking his hair affectionately, nails scratching his scalp as he nuzzles your mound, kissing the thin fabric separating you from his greedy mouth.

the only thing comparable to this lapse in sanity, is a trance like state.

the moment this man sees you unclothed on his bed, his body reacts immediately. skin heating up, abs tightening, unable to tear his hands away as he explores your body like it’s the first time, however, just a month in, he can kiss the sweet spot on your inner thigh with such precision, your pussy tightens every time, a new sweet heat flooding out, whining as you tug his sweater.

“take it off,” you don’t give him a second, pulling at the material until he’s clicking his tongue, yanking the sweater and tshirt off in one go. abs flexing as he kisses your lips again, harsher.

“y’er so fuckin’ annoying,” he husks, biting your lip as you whine, legs wrapping around his waist, just for him to pull away, pushing your thighs up, deft fingers wrapping around the flimsy material of your panties — ripping it easily.

“woah, what?” you gasp, eyes wide as he tosses the ruined material, cheeky grin on his face when he sees you try to close your legs. lips attacking yours again.

“my bad,” he mutters sarcastically, your brain too foggy to rebut, letting him handle you like some doll. the wet sounds of lips smacking each other, working you up, nails digging into his nape and bicep, as he rubs your waist and thigh affectionately.

fuck he wants to drop down already, but your lips are too addicting. the taste of your tongue, and the throaty whines you were letting out. “can probably cum just from kissin’ ya,” he admits, smile so wide he doesn’t even care how it sounds. and the flip in your tummy confirms how he can say just about anything and it’ll still sound so sexy, and not pathetic.

“no,” you kiss, hand feeling down his chest to palm his painful bulge. obvious he’s not wearing any boxers underneath. “had a long day,” you sigh as he kisses the corner of your lips, then your jaw, squeezing your waist.

“tell me about it.”

you sigh again, pretty chest rising, “make it go away,” your eyes flutter, his lips returning. hands spreading you out again.

“m’kay,” he groans, kissing down your precious body again. worshipping every touch and kiss, lips marking your soft skin as he settles between your legs again. tongue darting out as he uses his thumbs to spread your sticky lips apart, putting you on full display for his dark eyes.

you sigh in pleasure, the cool breeze hitting, hips shifting, unbothered by his staring.

“how can a pussy look so good?” he leans close, tongue licking a long strip through your pretty folds, groaning at the taste. “so good.” his hips lock against the mattress. diving for another taste, until he’s latching his lips around your cute clit, sucking hard.

“ryo,” your back arches off the sheets, legs locking around his head before he’s wrapping his huge arms around each thigh, holding you in place, slurping up your sweet slick.

“mmm fuck… y’taste so good,” his throaty groan sends shivers down your spine, jaw falling agape in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut, as you sink into the mattress.

sukuna can’t help melting to your taste, his jaw loosening to slurp louder, big tongue more sensual, caressing your clit over and over before going down to push into your hole. tongue feelings the tight gummy walls of your insides. thick lashes kissing his cheek as his messy tongue grows tender, worshipping your pussy, lulling your body peacefully.

it feels like you’re floating, moans once high, lowered, softly sighing and hiccuping when his tongue would swirl your swollen clit affectionately.

your fingers trail over your tummy, eyes heavy as you grasp his hair for balance, nails scratching his nape, pushing him further between your thighs. he groans in response. pulling back to spit on your clit, biting his lip mesmerized as it drips down your lips,

your tongue peaks out, thumb rubbing against your bottom lip as he glances up at you. pupils blown at the lewd sight.

“you enjoyin’ y’rself, baby?”

you nod with an airy hum, glossy lips parting as he leans down, lapping your pretty folds slowly, sweet syrup invading his mouth as he keeps eye contact,

“yeah?“

“yeah ryo,” you mumble, moaning softly as your eyes grow heavy again.

“y’look like you’re gonna knock out,” he chuckles, sucking your clit sharply making you cry unexpectedly, nails tugging his roots.

“m’ not—“ you babble, a surprising yawn managing to slip out.

he snorts, paying close attention to your clit, tongue running over the sensitive bud, until you’re whining a little louder, voice so sweet he’s subtly rutting into the mattress. slurping your folds obscenely, until you’re shaking desperately. jaw slack, tongue out as you come undone.

“mmm there we go,” he sucks your sweet juices, dragging out your orgasm as you tremble. tugging his hair, limps too weak and exhausted. “you’re kinda bossy tonight,” he tsks, climbing up to kiss your lips.

“might fall asleep…so put it inside me now,” you mutter, nails scratching his seductive v-line, pushing his sweats slightly.

“you can last long enough for a quickie?” he helps you push his waistband enough to pull his cock free. groaning against your lips as you thumb his slit.

“just wake me up if i fall asleep.”

“very funny,” he pushes your hand out of the way, reaching over to grab the condoms in the drawer. and in a matter of seconds he’s pushing inside you with slow, steady thrusts, lips back against yours.

“haah ryo,” your soft moans had him tensing, tonguing your bottom lip, eyes lidded as he watches your eyes flutter. nails lazily digging into his back with every measured thrust, thick veins stretching your poor cunt, lewd squelching singing in his ears.

“am i makin’ ya feel good? feel better when y’r stuffed full of my dick, huh?” his husky tone had a wave of heat burning your cheeks.

“yeah,” you hum, lips parting after another deep thrust, reaching your tummy,

“good,” he grunts, head tucking in your nape as his pace quickens a bit more, humming when he feels your pretty nails dig into his ass, clawing at him, legs locked around his body. “makin’ me feel good too,” he chokes when you clamp around him.

“yeaah,” you whine, head foggy as you feel his tip kiss your cervix, cock dragging out before hitting the same sweet spot again.

“yeah, baby,” he groans your name lowly, kissing your jaw as he picks up the pace, welcoming your body heat and warmth, ignoring his own thoughts to focus on pleasuring you. “ngh fuckk, you’re so tight, y’gonna cum?”

he’s snaking a hand between your bodies, thumb pressing on you clit harshly, rubbing the oversensitive bud until your crying out.

“attaa girl…c’mon you’re close,” he’s kissing up your neck, thrusts not seizing as he fucks you to another orgasm, chills breaking out, eyes rolling back. “haah fuck yeah,” sukuna’s palm presses into the mattress beside your head, gripping your thigh with the other, pumping his cock faster in your tight hole.

your jaw’s slack, choked gasps slipping out with each thrust. “angh ah haah,” your voice comes back as he continues fucking you through your orgasm, jaw clenched, sweaty head pressing against yours as you clamp around his thick base, his abs flexing, dropping his full weight into his final thrust, filling the condom with a low drawn-out moan.

the room stills once more, the distant sounds of the boys laughing downstairs, slowly pulling sukuna back.

it took little effort for him to tie and toss the used condom in the trash— missing.

he doesn’t move an inch from you, letting you turn over and leg still thrown over his lap, pressing yourself close, and kissing his neck softly. the soft pants coming from him easing your mind, eyes growing heavy once more. he’s so warm…

sukuna brushes your thigh, absentmindedly, lazily glancing at the bruises he left from yesterday. a weird twist clamping down in his gut at the large hand purple prints, ignoring the stir in his cock at the same time.

he breaks the silence, “y’know…you can tell me if it hurts…i won’t be mad.”

your brow furrows, shifting to tilt your head, pretty eyes heavy with exhaustion, but still shining up at him. “what’re you talkin’ about?” your thumb presses against the tattoo on his chin, unbothered by the casual intimacy as you brush it. his gaze briefly catching yours, looking between the pretty orbs staring up at him.

“the spanking. or the sex in general,” his usual scowl returns, caressing the pretty bruises on your hips too. however, you sigh, tired and slightly irritated, shifting yourself back so you can look at him better.

“if I had an issue I would say something, for real,” you sternly say.

sukuna’s jaw clenches, hand still brushing your side, then to your marked tits.

“you’re okay with this?” he asks again, hand now brushing your jaw, checking out the hickey on your collarbone.

you inhale, eyes closing before blinking up. “yes.”

the man is silent for another beat, licking his teeth in thought.

the argument from last night seemed so long ago. but your gentleness, and honesty made him waver. swallowing thickly as his mind continued to swarm around the tightness in his chest.

choso hadn’t spoken to him the entire trip back. well not until they arrived back at gramps’ place. yuuji had just gotten back from practice with megumi, the two eating dinner in the kitchen, when choso and sukuna walk in.

“you’re seriously gonna ignore me—“

choso storms past the two boys heading straight to his room.

“hey!” sukuna barks, following the teen.

“what’s going—oh ryo!” yuuji’s eyes brighten, swiveling around to greet the eldest, just as thier gramps, wasuke, walks in.

“where is he?”

“fu—he ran off to his room,” sukuna holds his tongue, jaw clenching in anger, standing behind choso’s door, wiggling the door knob. “cho!”

“leave him be. did he tell you why he went to you?” wasuke asks, still in his work clothes.

sukuna glances over at yuuji, jaw tight. “yuu can you give me a second with gramps?”

yuuji deadpans, “do we have to go to my room?”

sukuna nods, jerking his head in the direction of yuuji’s room beside choso’s. with a disgruntled huff, yuuji and megumi take their plates and disappear, door clicking shut behind them.

sukuna paces in the kitchen. head pounding as he tries to cool his breathing.

“deep breaths, kid,” wasuke grumbles.

“that’s what I’m fuckin’ doing,” sukuna presses his palms to his eyes, blood pumping faster thinking back to choso. “i understand he was fucking seven, but jesus there’s no way he forgot what happened!”

wasuke clenches his fist, sitting down at the table. “that’s young, ryomen.”

sukuna’s phone buzzes again, jaw clenching as he checks the message from the devil. more texts followed from last nights, spamming sukuna with ludicrous threats.

“fucking bitch.”

the crease between the athletes brows deepens. reading each text more thoroughly, and in that concentration only catches the backdoor slamming shut.

“who was that?” his eyes catch wasuke, both on alert. “yuuji?”

“yeah?” the distant response from the boy confirms he’s still in his room.

“did choso just leave?” sukuna mutters, jaw clenched as he storms to the back of the house only to catch choso’s figure running from the side of the house. “what the fuck?”

“ryomen!” wasuke reaches out for the eldest, but sukuna’s already kicking the front door open, just as choso’s running past, heading towards the parked car blasting music.

“don’t get in that fucking car, cho!” sukuna barks, right on his heels, and in a blink of an eye, right ad choso’s reaches for the car door, he’s being yanked back by his collar. meeting sukuna’s furious eyes. “you deaf?”

“I’m going out!” choso struggles in his brother’s grip, twisting in desperation, reaching for the car door, again.

“out?” sukuna violently kicks the door shut. “you fucking skipped school and ran to me and now you’re running off again!”

“I’m not allowed to hang out with my friends now?” choso snaps, eyes furious and red, obvious he was crying just seconds ago.

“not when you’re mute for two hours,” sukuna barks back, pulling choso away from car.

“h-hey man, we were jus’ gonna practice, we got a performance in a few weeks,” one of the kids in the backseat interrupts, head peaking out with caution. his beanie falls just above his eyebrows, brown hair peaking underneath. “I’m i-ino,” he squeaks out.

sukuna scowls, sharp eyes glaring daggers at the poor high schooler. “choso’s busy.”

“I’m not—“

“you are—“

“ryomen!” the booming shout had both boys freezing. chills running down sukuna’s spine, fist clenching around choso’s collar.

he slowly glances over his shoulder, meeting the old man’s eyes. “let em go,” wasuke barks.

sukuna inhales sharply, anger boiling over. “are you fucking kidding me—“

“you heard me!” wasuke shouts again. “choso, if you’re not back before ten—“

“I’ll be back,” choso aggressively snaps, shoving himself off the eldest, who reluctantly lets go, jaw tense as he watches the teen slip past him and into the car. choso doesn’t spare him a second look before the car’s speeding off.

dogs bark in the distance, leaves brushing past sukuna’s sock covered feet as he watches the car disappear, chest heaving. the sharp coiling in his temple has him squeezing his head.

“I’ll calm him down, you should get back,“ wasuke starts, sukuna passing him through the front door.

“yeah, because I’m always the bad guy,” sukuna grabs his phone and wallet from the kitchen.

wasuke’s temper rises, meeting sukuna’s, “watch your tone—“

“I’m watching it, and clearly it’s not enough considering choso’s running to me pretending like it’s all my fault, that bitch killed dad and suddenly strolls in outta nowhere!”

“did he say it was your fault?”

“doesn’t matter what he fucking said. I know what he thinks, and you,” sukuna shoves his shoes on, irritation gnawing at his insides. unbeknownst to either of yuuji and megumi peaking from the hall. “ill handle it all this weekend,” the front door swings open.

“ryomen—“

the door slams behind him.

“hey.”

the sweet voice cuts through his thoughts. head tilting down to meet your exhausted eyes. pretty.

“you just disappeared mid-convo,” you laugh lightly, thumb brushing the corner of his lips. he grunts, mind still distant as he studies your features lazily. you look unusually more tired than before. the slight bloodshot of your pupils, the lidded eyes.

his thumb brushes your spine. “how long were you studying for?” he husks out. chest rising evenly underneath you.

you sigh, head falling back, “too long,” your eyes close briefly, the silence filling the space once more before you mutter, “let’s talk about something else.”

sukuna doesn’t say anything. gaze tracking the way your lips part again with a gentle exhale, your fingers gently brushing his tattoo.

“how’s your brother?”

sukuna snorts, loud, “let’s not talk about that.”

you chuckle, glancing at his expression. “how old is he?”

“fifteen,” he tsks, thoughts swarming back to the forefront of his mind. “fucking teenagers.”

you laugh again, palm pressing against his pec, using it to gently lay beside him, leg still intertwined with his. “he rebellious?”

“he picks his fucking moments. like today,” sukuna pokes his cheek.

“same for your other brother?” you ask, eyes growing heavy with each passing second, but still attentive enough to hear him.

“yuuji’s another handful,” sukuna snorts, “not bad, just insane.”

your soft laugh eases sukuna. “how old is he?”

“just turned eleven last month.”

you hum, “so there’s still time for him to be rebellious.”

sukuna snorts again, brushing your hip as he shifts, getting comfortable. “wouldn’t be surprised. basically runs in the family.” you smile lightly, your blinks growing slower. “how old is your married sister?”

“too old for you,” you frown.

he shrugs, “I’ve done old.”

“stop talking.”

a loud unfiltered laugh rumbles through his chest making you deadpan. he grips your hips tighter, pulling you closer still laughing.

“ha ha,” you sarcastically laugh, glaring at him.

the laugh echos louder, infectious as his muscles relax, easing beside you. “you’re not gonna tell me how old y’r sister is cause’ you think I’ll fuck a married woman?”

“you think that’s the only reason?” you raise a brow.

he shrugs again, “if she looks like you then—“

“stop talking!” you shriek, the man ultimately laughing again. you huff, eyeing him as you mumble an answer to his question, “she’s seven years older than me, so I guess she’s uh, twenty-eight now.”

“so five years older than me then,” sukuna teases, but your brow flys up, leaning back in surprise.

“five years? you’re older than me? we’re in the same year?” you ramble, suddenly awake.

sukuna scratches his chest calmly, “i took a gap year.”

your lips part, “you’re two years older than me.”

“for two years. deferred my acceptance when I was in high school,” his eyes close yawning, clearly not in the mood to discuss those two years. “what’s your sister like?”

“stop talking about her,” you mutter sharply. sukuna closes his eyes with exhaustion, before your thoughts go to your older sister…jaw tensing, and body shifting uncomfortably.

“she’s really smart.”

your mind wanders off, eyes trailing up to the ceiling, shifting on your side. “super judgmental,” your words hand heavy on your tongue, inhaling sharply to calm your breathing. “but….also right about everything, which makes it more annoying,” the soft exhale beside you has you glancing at the burly man. eyes meeting deep crimson. “just older sister things,” you conclude.

the room grows quiet once more, just the soft breathing between you, exhaustion swimming in your gazes. the shouting downstairs seizing.

your gentle expression held an unspoken reservation. cheek pressed softly against his pillow keeping your bodies close.

his hand instinctively comes up, caressing the skin of your neck, breath escaping as he speaks lowly. “you close with your sister?”

your brain is slowly beginning to shut down, sleep gnawing at you, but still able to register his questions. “yes…but not like before.”

sukuna swallows thickly, unsure why he’s anxious, “before what?”

you blink again, eyelids struggling to stay open, “before she got married.”

sukuna’s jaw clenches, grip tightening on your waist. “do you hate her?”

your brows crease, “no.” your jaw locks, a storm swarming behind your eyes before closing them again. “it’s just not like before. being close.”

“did she pull away or you?”

“I don’t know….she did, it’s just—she’s still…” you cut yourself off, inhaling. “i don’t hate her.” you state once more. “do you hate your brothers?”

“no.” sukuna answers in a heart beat.

you sigh, hand rubbing your head, “you can’t hate your siblings. it’s impossible.” you swallow thickly, “they’re the only ones that know you.”

sukuna contemplates your words. mind wandering back to choso. the hurt in his sunken eyes before shrugging sukuna’s hand off and storming off to his friends. was sukuna too harsh? should he have heard the kid out? he only wants to protect them. something that’s impossible if choso keeps eating at him at every decision.

“I’m gonna…” your yawn breaks your sentence, pressing closer to the pillow, “tired.”

sukuna watches with low eyes as you easily sink into the mattress, consciousness drifting into the void, and even breaths taking over. the moonlight softly illuminating your gentle features. his throat closing in as he slides closer to you, arm firmly around your torso, forcing his mind to rest with the comfort of your small body.

unfortunately, the roaring thoughts in his mind never settles, so when his alarm goes off, the instant grogginess hits him like a trunk. limbs reaching out slamming his phone shut.

he shifts, arms pressed under the pillow groaning into it.

“fuck,” his body aches, muscles tense as he sits up. you were still dead asleep beside him. luckily it was a weekend, the gentle rise and fall of your back was like a beautiful trance. pushing the blanket further down your back, caressing the dip in your spine, large hand wrapping around your waist, leaning down.

his lips trail up to your nape, nose pressing into your hair. “you smell good,” he sighs, brushing your waist a little firmer. kissing below your ear, your name falling from his lips like a moan.

you stir softly, mouth agape as you exhale, arm shifting higher under the pillow, exhausted. he calls your name again, pushing the blanket lower as his lips trail over your much smaller bicep. each kiss wet and loud, making a show of the smacking.

“ah!” you jerk when he presses his face under your arm, kissing your tricep, then your armpit, inhaling. “what’re you doing,” you groan, eyes heavy as you push his head away.

“I’m tense,” he grumbles, kissing your shoulders now, moving behind you, to straddle your legs. “how about another quickie before my practice?”

your lips part with a yawn, shifting your hips when he massages down your sides, thumbs pressing over the dip of your ass. “m’kay,” you yawn again. palm pressing to your face waking yourself up. “wake me up a bit.”

sukuna hums, pushing his body between your legs, large palms pulling your ass apart, biting his lips at the sight of your hot cunt, and bruised ass. “won’t take long for this pussy to get wet anyways,” he chuckles, two fingers rubbing through your lips, biting a groan when he presses into your tight entrance, pushing in.

the immediate whine that drawls from your pretty lip has him groaning. “there we go,” he keeps a palm holding your ass open, watching his fingers pump inside your warm hole so early in the morning, “taking my fingers like a big girl.”

“ryo,” you whine into the pillow, hips shifting again, as he curls his fingers, your slick easily starting to flow out.

sukuna’s low groan had you clenching around his hick digits, “fuck, this pussy knows exactly who she’s talking too, righ,” he licks his lips, knees spreading further apart, heavy cock hanging between his legs, aching. “good girl,” he presses down on your ass for balance, pumping his fingers quicker, the wet squelching of your pussy has you shivering, the coil twisting further as you moan lewdly into the pillow.

your choked whines edging the frat boy, pupils blown at the sight, cock twitching at the obscene sounds.

“wanna grab me a condom, baby?”

you whine, wiggling as you try to reach for the few still on the nightstand. however, when sukuna curls his fingers again, shoving the entire length of his long digits deep inside your cunt, pressing against your sweet spot, your eyes roll back, back arching, ass pushing up and tongue falling out, falling over the edge.

“aww,” sukuna mockingly coos, chuckling as he fingers you through your trembling orgasm. “that was so fast,” he leans over, stilling his fingers inside as he grinds them inside, your back arching, pushing your ass into him. “there we are...”

“ryoo,” you whine, twisting in desperation, but he doesn’t ease up.

“c’mon, it’s so early, you can say more than my name,” he laughs, grabbing the condom you were reaching for, fingers still stretching your dripping pussy as he rips the condom with his teeth. “you want it deep?”

your words pitch when he keeps fingering you. “yeah.”

“hard?”

“y-yes,” you shake, trying to push up on your forearms and knees, legs butterflying against the mattress, ass rising in the air.

sukuna chuckles, whistling, “c’mon woman, is that how you ask to get your pussy stuffed? ya like shaking your cunt to anyone?”

“ryo, you said a quickie,” you huff, glancing over your shoulder, mind still foggy with sleep and now, need. you choke on another gasp when you feel his cock glide through your folds, wetting himself, then pulling away. your head falls back on the mattress, muscles weak so early in the morning. “ryo please.”

“as much as I like the begging, shake your pussy a little and I’ll give y’what you want,” the shameless request had your cheeks flushing, glancing over your shoulder to see the man in question leaning back on his knees, fat thighs spread and large palm stroking his lengthy cock, heavy balls tugging up with each jerk.

you lick your lips, spreading your legs further to arch even deep for him, ass naturally spreading, pussy on display for the frat boy.

“you’re soaked,” he groans, wetting his bottom lip, eyeing the clear slick dripping down your thighs and drooling out of your hole, hanging mid-air. “just from my fingers too,” his jaw tenses controlling himself when you suck up your pride, and wiggle your hips. “good girl.”

your face is buried in your arms, cheeks and neck hot with embarrassment, especially when his large palm is groping your ass cheeks.

it felt like hours of him staring, until you finally felt the burning stretch.

“good girls get rewards,” he coos with a drawn groan. hand pulling your hips back to meet his. “y’ like that?”

“mhm,” your voice is muffled against the sheets, eyes rolling back as he bottoms out.

“yeah,” his sharp jaw tilts back, throat bobbing as his grip on your hips tighten, pulling back slowly, letting you feel every curve and ridge of his cock, then jackhammering his unbelievable size back in. the precession knocking the air out of your lungs.

the heat in the room builds as sweat and sex fill your senses. drool coating the blankets underneath you as sukuna’s drills his cock straight through your cervix. his name falling from your lips with dumb fixation.

“sorry baby, still haven’t cum yet,” he’s grunting beast-like, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you up.

“s-sensitive,” your head falls back on his shoulder, crying out as his teeth skim your neck, suckling on the flesh over your pulse point. “ngh!” you arch off his chest, his rough digits rubbing tight circles around your puffy clit, other hand groping your breast, pinching your nipple.

“yeah, I know…poor baby,” he mocks devilishly, kissing your neck sweetly, while the rest of his body is shoving you into another mind-numbing orgasm. vision hazy, jaw slack, and drool dripping down your chin. your moans pitch higher as he aggressively fucks himself into your tight pocket. “here we go—ngh, yeah fuck—“ his gravely tone right beside your ear has you clamping down in surprise, his body lurching forward, hugging you your waist back, shoving his entire length.

your vision goes white, gasp whiney as you completely fall apart. nails digging crescent moons along his bicep and forearm.

“s-shit,” sukuna pulses inside you, condom filling to the brim as he pulls out quickly, jaw tensing when he feels the condom slipping off his tip before he’s fully out. “stupid thing,” he mutters, catching it before it gets stuck in your pussy, tossing the rubber.

your head tilts, glossy lips brushing his.

neither of you could put into words how easily your bodies spoke to each other. mouths opening in sync, tongues pressing against the other. his arm held you close, humping his cock between your slick folds, jaw going slack against your mouth as another spurt of cum shoots out, hitting the mattress in front of you.

you kiss the corner of his lips, chest heaving against his strong arms. your hand sliding down to keep his cock pressed between your folds, your slick a drippy mess as he keeps bucking his hips, milking out a few more heavy spurts of cum.

the heat of your bodies wrap around you. sukuna leans back against his thighs letting your slump between his legs, hand cradling your face turning your cheek to meet his lips again. “that was good,” he husks, rubbing your sides, and kissing you again.

you hum, eyes lidded with bliss.

with another kiss, sukuna finally pulls away. a deep yawn escapes his chest, arms stretching over his head, rolling his shoulders back.

fuck, morning sex is refreshing. sukuna cracks his neck as he steps into the bathroom. unbothered leaving the door wide open and turning the shower on.

while you laid on his bed still basking in the post sex glow. you reached for your phone, rolling onto your back as you swiped through your notifications. your brows furrow at the time, it wasn’t as early as you assumed it was….usually his practice starts at six.

“hey, are you late?” you shout from the bed, hoping he can hear you over the shower.

“late? what time is it?” he shouts back.

you glance at your screen again, “eight twenty-two!”

there’s another beat of silence. did he not hear you? you carefully push up from the bed, first steps a bit unstable, before walking over to the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, arm subtly covering your naked breasts as you poke your head in.

sukuna is rinsing the shampoo from his hair, water running down his muscular back, through the open glass wall, the sliding door broken and resting on the other side of the bathroom.

“I said it’s eight twenty-two,” you repeat, gaze swiping over him through the foggy glass.

“eight twenty-two?” he repeats, too distracted before he’s stepping back revealing his drenched form wiping the water from his face.

“yeah,” you nod, eyes swiping over his chiseled muscles. swallowing the lump as your eyes travel over his tattoos. “don’t you have practice at six?”

sukuna pushes his hair back soap running over his shoulders, reaching for the washcloth and squirting his body wash on it. “not today, we have a practice game, so it’s later in the mornin’ since the other team is comin’ to us,” he casually answers, rubbing the cloth against his huge arms.

in the month since you made this deal, it seemed that their were a few unspoken conditions you both set for yourselves. something you considered crossing the line. seperate from the rules you’ve both already laid out…this was just something you’d associate with…a couple.

and showering together was at the top of that list.

it was too intimate. especially when you’re blushing at the sight of him scrubbing the soapy loofah across his inked chest, traveling further south.

“oh..okay,” you steal one last glance before disappearing back to the comfort of his bed. it felt mistakenly comfortable, casually laying in his bed, stealing one of the shirts to cover up as you laid on your side scrolling through your phone. unbothered when he came waltzing out, drying himself off.

there was no need to comment on it. invested in texting shoko, while he slips on his boxers and throwing on his jersey, his steps heavy as his large form moves around the room, grabbing a couple things and stuffing his duffle.

“how long you stayin?” he asks, duffle strapped over his back as you sit up, eyes still on your phone replying.

“not long,” you glance up briefly, “can I shower then go? I’m gonna head back to campus and study,” you finish, standing up and texting shoko your eta, unfocused on the man a few feet away from you. you and shoko could probably crank out a few more lectures today and grab something to eat from the food carts outside the library. you also need to charge your laptop and ipad.

your mind starts to tangle once more, rubbing your cheek in thought as shoko quickly replies.

“hey.”

your head snaps up at the voice. sukuna’s jaw clenches, glancing between your gaze, “I said it’s fine.”

you’re momentarily frozen, awe-struck even, having him tower over you, his deep orbs boring into your own. “oh okay, thanks.”

he hums, thumb brushing your chin, tipping your head back. your cheeks flush, noting the way his eyes flick to your lips, heart beating faster as he casually leans down, kissing you softly.

it was brief. sweet. tongues touching, a quiet hum coming from your throat once he pulls away, brushing his thumb on your bottom lip, doey eyes blinking up at him. cute.

“I’ll see ya then.”

you try not to smile, even as it’s biting your cheeks, until he’s left the room. your palms press to your face, controlling the sudden heat that pumps under the flesh.

“go shower, idiot,” you mutter to yourself.

—

sukuna was many things. a frat boy, an ambitious junior double majoring in business and biochem, and a forward running on a full-ride scholarship in one of the best college soccer teams in the country.

all that sums up sukuna externally.

most people assume they know him right off the bat. especially with the tattoos that band his wrists, biceps, and face. assumptions and judgement is natural, especially if you’re a competitive athlete off and on the field.

however, what’s most frustrating, is when sukuna proves them right.

“I told you to calm the fuck down,” toji growls, grip tight on the captain’s jersey.

sukuna’s jaw locks, unable to rip his sharp glare from the opposing team’s captain.

“who the fuck is this ref? fucking elbowed my fucking eye and didn’t call a red card?!” sukuna tries to lunge at the man again, only to be aggressively held back by his coach.

“it’s practice match, cool off,” geto puts a hand on sukuna’s shoulder, immediately getting slapped away.

“I’m fine,” sukuna shoves everyone off him, jaw clenched as he walks back to his position on the field. they still had three minutes until halftime, and the voice call sukuna mistakenly decided to listen too before the match had left a permanent stain on his mindset.

toji steps back, arms crossed, veins bulging as the game continues.

sukuna’s plays sloppy and reckless. “pass! gojo’s open!” toji shouts, only to watch his captain completely disregard the entire teams shouting to dribble the ball across the field.

“ignoring my messages only further proves how childish you are, sukuna. i am trying desperately to be as civil as possible, however, this has continued long enough, the next time you’ll hear from me, will have big consequences.”

fuck! that fucking bitch! sukuna’s mind internally screams, replaying her voicemail over and over. the smug lit in her voice, the condescending tone she’s always spoken to him with. she better be grateful that toji is coming with him today or he sure as hell would have her buried somewhere for the way she’s acting, with everything that’s she’s done to him—to choso—to yuuji—to dad—

“shit!”

“seriously kuna!” gojo snaps. the ball suddenly swiped from sukuna’s feet, opposing team passing it further away from him, immediately igniting sukuna’s rage—

“calm down,” geto suddenly appears beside sukuna, arm firmly pressing into the captain’s chest, holding him back, and preventing him from charging at some random player.

“get off me,” sukuna grits, vision red.

geto firmly stands in front of the player, using his entire body weight to keep their captain from snapping over the edge, clearly something their used too, but never to his own teammates. “we have a minute left, it’s fine, it’s just a practice match—“

however, to the audience in the stands who have gathered to watch their school’s practice match, they watch as their captain inevitably loses his cool, and shoves his teammates to the ground, hard.

“woah!” gasps echo through the small crowd. eyes wide as they watch the other tackle the captain to the ground, immediate fight breaking out.

unbeknownst to sukuna, a few feet away at the stands, is shoko waving you down. your lips part, glancing at the commotion on the field, making your way over to your friend. now freshly showered and wearing your jeans from yesterday, and one of sukuna’s random graphic tee’s tucked into your bra from the back.

“what’s going on?” you drop your bag beside you, taking a seat next to shoko eyes trying to make out the huddle of men on the field shoving and pulling at each other.

shoko is chewing on a pocky stick, offering you one, “don’t know, but sukuna and suguru are fighting.”

your brows pinch, “whaaa?” your eyes whip back to the field, and low and behold, sukuna is being dragged away by toji and the assistant coach, while gojo and another teammate hold geto back. “woah, do they always fight in games?”

shoko shrugs, biting into another stick, relaxing on the stands, “don’t know, don’t care. was just killing time watching them, and I’m enjoying the free entertainment.”

you snort, relaxing beside your friend, yawn coming out as you take another stick from the packet. “true,” you get comfortable, unbothered by the mess on the field since the fight has died down.

a break is good. you and shoko can watch a practice match for another forty-five minutes before you kill yourselves in the library again. your chest straining at the thought of the upcoming exams this week. two weeks left of classes and then straight to finals week. you were gonna be sick.

unfortunately, shoko seems to have the same mindset, and decides the best way to spend this halftime, was to discuss your study schedules for the next two weeks.

neither of you paying attention when the game resumes afterwards, oblivious to the many mistakes and fights that break out amoung the home team. that’s until a certain call is made.

“number eighteen off the field!”

you and shoko simultaneously look back at the field, iPads and calendars discarded to see everyone on the field holding their breaths. your eyes zero in on number eighteen, sukuna.

“oh they’re switching him out?” you mutter in question, watching closely as sukuna storms towards, who you’re guessing to be, coach toji. you’ve never seen him in person, how could you? you’ve never been to any of their games or practices before. you’ve only ever heard stories about the grueling coach, working the boys till they’re limp on the floor.

you’re momentarily surprised when sukuna stands in front of the man, standing a few inches higher than the captain. “woah,” you mumble to yourself, unable to make out the heated conversation from the stands, but sukuna looked close to snapping the man’s neck. “did something happen at the beginning of the game?”

shoko shrugs, also invested in the commotion, especially when people start whispering when they start hearing the shouting coming from their captain. “I’ve only ever seen them play a couple times, but something’s definitely going on with him.”

your brows scrunch, “he was fine this morning.”

“huh?” shoko whips to look at you, eyes wide.

you meet her gaze with your own surprised one, “what?”

“you were together this morning?”

you rub your chin casually, “yeah, we slept together last night.”

shoko eyes grow wider, “wasn’t he ignoring you for like a week?”

oh…you forgot to tell her. “not ignoring me…he was just busy. but he came over to go over the lab the other day, and yeah. then I saw him again last night because he asked.”

shoko gives you a pointed look.

“what?”

she shrugs, not reassuring, but also not pushing. so you reserve to looking back at the field, and with your luck, you meet his eyes as he’s storming off the field.

his sharp glare pierces you, face scrunching in mild surprise.

“sukuna!” gojo shouts after him, ultimately being held back by the coach.

“let em go, he needs to calm down,” toji pulls the athlete back, clapping his hands to get them back on the field, letting his captain storm off.

neither you or shoko fully delve into what happens afterwards.

your legs push down, standing up and leaving your bag with shoko. “I’m gonna see if he’s okay, and say hi before we leave.”

“why?”

you shrug casually, “i think it’s rude if i just fuck him then show up to his match randomly without saying hi.”

shoko gives you a look that you brush off. following after the frat boy.

it wasn’t difficult to spot him. considering he stormed off without any of his belongings, he didn’t get pretty far. instead pacing back n forth, phone pressed to his ear near the road, fists tightly clenched around the hem of his jersey, wiping the sweat from his chin.

you can hear the shouting before you reach him. clearly not taking the opportunity to cool off, and instead popping another muscle with how tightly he’s clenching his jaw.

“don’t you fucking dare get five hundred feet of that fucking house!”

the spring breeze brushes in front of you, pushing you from the man, but unable to listen, you draw closer.

“you can’t wait two fucking hours?” his back faces you, heaving and wound up, and now you’re starting to regret coming. you assumed he’d be pissed, considering he got kicked off the field, but normal people cool off, get a glass of water. hell, you’re naive head really thought he’d want some company, even if it was just a short hello from you. but hearing him shout on the phone, remembering the information he told you the other day…

the call abruptly ends, time slowing to a unnerving pace, swallowing thickly once he turns around. your face going pale.

red irises lidded with rage meet yours. you can see the way his body tenses, teeth gritting, before opening his big mouth.

“what the fuck.”

the edges tone immediately had you cringing. the absolute annoyance that laced his voice the moment he saw you, and you really felt like an idiot now.

the words die off your tongue, heart beating quicker, and the only thing you could do was laugh. “sorry,” you cringe even more, stepping back to leave. “just wanted to say hi, before uh…leaving,” you point over your shoulder awkwardly.

his eyes rack over you. expression blank, with the exception of his knitted brows, and unwavering glare.

it’s moments like these that make you realize how much of a stranger this man is. you couldn’t decipher a thing about him. sex really is just sex. even if your heart is beating a bit quicker, unsure what else to say, especially when his eyes rip away from you the second his phone buzzes.

“don’t go.” his words cut, halting your retreating form.

your lips part momentarily, glancing back at him as he types on his phone, tongue poking his cheek. “um…I have to go study.”

“you came here first,” his tone is sharp, defensive.

“well, yeah…to say hi,” you wet your lip awkwardly annoyed. “obviously that was a mistake,” and with full transparency, you meant no offense, it was the truth. who follows a hungry tiger into the woods and expects a friendly chat?

“what? because I’m on the phone?” he snaps, still typing, barely sparing you a glance.

you feel your own phone buzz in your pocket, knowing full well shoko was texting. “it’s fine, you can have your space.”

“seriously?”

your head tilts with a clip, lately his words have been hitting a nerve that you seriously can’t seem to shake. “seriously what? space? I’m giving you space, is that a problem?”

“did i say i needed space?” he snaps aggressively. your jaw locks, face scrunching in annoyance. he’s really one to rub it in.

“no,” you tsk.

sukuna’s tongue presses on his molars, muscles tensing, attention back to his phone. “you came to say hi, give me a fucking second. your jaw tenses, blood boiling at the demanding tone, all for him to finish texting and grasp your jaw in surprise. your eyes swim with confusion, glancing between his lidded gaze. “was I mean?”

god, he’s so annoying! your stomach churns, averting your gaze. “it’s whatever. I’m gonna go now.” — his grip doesn’t loosen, instead holding your waist with his other hand keeping you still.

your muscles tense, mind swimming to the last time he held you like this.

it was not pleasant realizing after making this deal, and having sex for the better half of this semester….that sukuna has a temper.

“just—“ his words break off. thumb brushing the bare skin of your hip, palm locked on your jaw, eyes distant with other thoughts, none of which having to do with you, but also…his pupils concentrate on your guarded expression, hand gentle, but still holding his wrist. “i missed a week of classes.” his grip slowly loosens, keeping you in your place with his words now, surprisingly. “are y’ gonna be studying all week?” you nod, sukuna cocks his head at the buzzing phone. “do you wanna study together?”

you clear your throat, nodding again, “yeah, sure,” you wet your lips, “just text me.”

sukuna nods, tensing when you pull out your phone, shoko’s messages filling your notifications. sukuna manages to catch the time, gut twisting uncomfortably, vision hazy.

“oh—“ the soft gasp slips your lips, frame going rigid.

his soft breath tickles your neck, face tucked in your nape, kissing your warm skin. his palm presses into the curve of your back, hugging you close to his chest, unable to move. this man is beyond confusing.

cautiously, your fingers brush his nape, swallowing the lump in your throat before speaking.

“i know it’s not my place,” you hesitate, scratching the roots of his hair similar to the way you do after having sex. “like you’ve said before…but uh your step mom…” sukuna stills, lips ghosting over your skin, waiting to hear what you have to say— “um hopefully things work out.”

“it will,” he clips.

you inhale sharply, you really have a big mouth don’t you? “g-good.”

inevitably killing the mood, unbeknown to you, sukuna pulls away, fingers running through his pink locks pushing his sweaty bangs back noticing the crowd beginning to file out of the field behind you. “games over.”

you glance back, spotting shoko walking over with your bag.

“cool…” you clear your throat, forcing a smile, “okay, I’ll see you later, then,” you do your best to kill the awkwardness you’re definitely feeling, before waving him off.

sukuna silently watches you walk away, lidded gaze trailing over your exposed back, down to your ass. he’s a sexual person, but he still finds himself locking his jaw, and looking away. there was too many things going on and the only way it comes out is either with rage or lust.

both bite him in the ass in the end, all he’s doing is postponing your inevitable departure.

wouldn’t be anything new. but he’s gone a pretty decent amount of time without scaring you. everything’s just messing with his head now. he’s not in the right space to control his reactions, if he’s ever been able to control them, which he hasn’t felt confident about for a few years now—

“let’s go,” the sharp voice cuts through his thoughts. duffle bag hitting his chest as toji walks past him. “and you’re apologizing to the team tomorrow.”

sukuna licks his teeth, opting for silence as he follows his coach.

the drive up was anything but silent. toji had his close friend — with just as many shady connections as him — shiu, on speaker.

“like I said, the most I could find were her old addresses, there was about three years where it looks like she was completely out of the country, it’ll take me more time to track exactly what she was doing overseas,” he goes on. “but as for here.”

sukuna’s swiping through his phone, looking at the material shiu could find, “is this it?”

shiu exhales through the mic, “you guys barely gave me a week. do what i told ya’ before. the lawsuit she had filed against her two years ago is enough leverage until i find more, besides she went through a lot of work hiding that shit.”

“the woman’s a fucking weasel, she’ll fuck off with the right threat,” toji adds, turning at another exit. “get back to me when y’find more, thanks.”

sukuna was the least bit confessed though. knee bouncing erratically, palms clammy, “she’s made alotta fuckin’ threats.”

“so we’re doin’ it back,” toji glances briefly at the kid he’s known for well over decade. “key is to act like you have the upper hand. poker face.”

sukuna rubs his jaw, elbow pressed to the window sill. “poker face,” he repeats under his breath, eyes shutting as he controls his breathing the closer they near.

after today it should be over for awhile.

that’s the plan.

he’ll handle the shit when he doesn’t have classes, exams, practice, or the frat. everything will be handled over the summer — they just need to acare her off for three weeks—four if they’re lucky.

“let me do the talking,” toji parks.

sukuna nods, movements slow as he exits the car, grip tightening around the passenger door slamming it shut. blood pumps viciously in his ears. chest hot, clothes sticky.

“kuna. breathe,” toji’s voice is distant, his touch searing as it presses into the athletes shoulder.

all for the lump in his throat to come crawling back up, buckling forward. sukuna sputters, throwing up his protein shake and granola bar as toji lurches back.

“fuck,” sukuna coughs, spitting a few chunks still in his mouth.

toji pats his back, “you’re fine.”

sukuna coughs, acidic taste in his mouth as he stands, wiping his face with his shoulder. toji makes no comment about his bloodshot eyes, or how flushed he looks, instead, he takes the lead, neck cracking as he storms up the steps to the small house, BOUGHT sign still planted on the grass.

it’ll be fine.

the booming knock almost cracks the door with toji’s strength. sukuna’s stomach churning at the wait. heart beating quicker, sweat trickling down his back, sun beating down.

“fucking bitch,” he grits under his teeth, fist clenching.

“ryo, I’ll be right back! you did amazing!”

a seventeen year old sukuna slouches back on the benches, deadpanning. sukuna still remembers the sympathetic smile his dad gave him. ruffling his hair affectionately like he’s still twelve.

“take this, grab some food with your friends, I’ll pick you up right after,” his father hands him a fifty dollar bill.

the crowd from the final soccer game of the season leaving the stands, sukuna’s friends waiting a few feet away for him.

nothing changes.

“yeah whatever, have fun,” sukuna spits, standing with his bag, brushing past his father and rejecting the fifty in his palm. “I’ll find my way home after, so don’t bother.”

sukuna catches his friends, not bothering to steal one final glance at his father.

maybe if he’d known that was the last thing he’d ever say to him, he would’ve acted differently.

the door clicks open.

a/n: that took awhile but thanks for being patient! there was definitely more plot in this! next chapter will be more heated!! I’ll be overseas again for another week, leaving tomorrow, so the next chapter may or may not come out at the end of the month, I will release a part before the next chapter though!

also…I gave up on the taglist it’s too much work, but u can turn notifications on ao3 I think!

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”  

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

[kamoswrld]

pornstar princess

content: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader, personal trainer sukuna, pornstar reader, mention of personal trainer suguru geto, smut with a bit of plot, oral (f & m receiving), squirting, unprotected p in v, multiple positions, creampie!

eli’s notes: written for my baby @motel6killer hehe, thanks for helping me with starting this off! fanart creds to @/cyennik on twt! enjoy this 2k long yap!

you’ve had your eyes glued to ryomen sukuna for damn near four months straight—okay, fine, three months, twenty-two days, and a couple hours past that, but whatever, details.

he’s hands down the sexiest trainer walking around this gym, no contest. your go-to guy, suguru geto, comes in a close second, and suguru’s a sweetheart—always on point with the workouts, chill attitude, keeps things moving smooth. nothing bad to say about him at all. but sukuna just hits different, got this rough vibe that screams he’d grab you by the hips and ragdoll you around the bed like it’s nothing. turns out, that’s right up your alley since you do exactly that for a living.

there's absolutely no reason to play coy about what you do—why bother acting shy when you’re proud of it? you’re straight-up porn royalty, racking in millions on onlyfans with your private vids, popping off on instagram with thirst traps, and originally blowing up on that one site everybody knows with the orange and black logo.

and sukuna’s definitely rubbed one out to your stuff; you see it in the way he clocks you mid-lift, sweat dripping down his jacked arms and chest, and throws a quick wink when your stare lingers too long on all that muscle flexing. then there was that random sauna run-in, both of you sliding onto the benches at the same exact time, heat cranking up the room.

you kicked off talking shop like it’s any normal job—how shoots drag on forever, how half the dudes you film with can’t even get you close, leaving you high and dry so you head home and handle business yourself with fingers or a vibe until you’re shaking. his towel pitched a tent so obvious you almost laughed, dick twitching hard under the thin cloth while he tried playing it cool.

today hits different, though. suguru texts you an hour before your session, apologizing profusely—something about a family emergency pulling him away last minute. he promises to reschedule, but then adds that sukuna offers to step in if you’re cool with it. your heart flips at the name drop, fingers flying across your screen as you reply with a quick 'kk' and a smiling emoji.

this feels like fate handing you a fucking willy wonka golden ticket.

you slide into your tiniest sports bra, the kind that hugs your tits just right, pushing them up with that perfect bounce, and pair it with shorts so short they ride up your ass cheeks every step. no panties underneath—why bother? you want him noticing, want him struggling to keep those sharp eyes professional.

you stroll into the gym fifteen minutes early, scanning the floor until you spot him over by the free weights.

sukuna’s in full bulking mode these days, his frame massive and veined, shoulders broad enough to block out half the mirror behind him as he curls a dumbbell that looks heavier than your entire body. sweat glistens on his tattooed skin, those black lines twisting over his biceps and chest like they’re alive under the fluorescent lights. he sets the weight down with a grunt, spots you approaching, and straightens up, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“hey,” he greets, voice rough and low, eyes dipping down your body for a split second before snapping back to your face. “geto bailed, huh? told me you’re serious about your routine. don’t worry, princess. i got you covered today.”

you flash him a grin, stepping closer than necessary, letting your hip brush his arm as you drop your water bottle on the bench nearby.

“oh, i’m sure you do. thanks for jumping in—suguru’s great, but i’ve heard you push people harder. think you can handle me?”

your words drip with tease and to be even more of a brat, you bend over to stretch your hamstrings right there, ass popping out in those shorts, giving him a full view.

he clears his throat, you catch the way his jaw tightens, how he shifts his stance like he’s adjusting something in his sweats.

“handle you? yeah, yeah. we’ll see about that,” he mutters, grabbing a clipboard from the rack and jotting down notes—probably your usual sets from suguru’s file.

“let's start with warm-ups. ten minutes on the treadmill, then we hit legs. squats, lunges, the works. you good with that?”

he keeps it clipped, professional, but there’s an edge in his tone like he’s forcing the words out.

you hop on the treadmill, cranking it up to a brisk jog, tits jiggling with every stride, and you glance over your shoulder at him. “you gonna watch my form today? make sure i’m doing it right?”

he nods, arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes linger on your thighs flexing, the curve of your back.

the session drags on with that tension humming between you—him barking orders, you pushing back with flirty jabs. during squats, you sink low, ass brushing his thigh “accidentally” as he spots you from behind.

“oops, my bad,” you chirp, but don’t move away, grinding back just a fraction before standing.

he grabs your hips to steady you, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks, and growls, “focus, or you’ll hurt yourself.”

but his touch lingers, thumbs tracing circles on your skin.

you laugh it off but inside, heat pools low in your belly.

lunges come next, and you make a show of it, bending deep, shorts riding up to expose the crease where thigh meets ass.

“like this?” you ask innocently, looking up at him through your lashes.

his gaze darkens, but he nods curtly. “yeah. just like that—deeper.”

by the time you move to the private training room for core work—away from the main floor where a few stragglers lift weights—the gym starts emptying out. it’s late afternoon, that quiet lull before the evening rush. sukuna locks the door behind you both, muttering something about privacy for focused sets, but you see the hunger in his eyes now, unrestrained.

you drop onto the mat for planks, holding the position with your ass arched high and he's there knelt beside you, a big hand pressing down on your lower back.

“keep it straight,” he says, but his palm slides lower, cupping your cheek through the thin fabric.

you gasp, pushing back into him. “sukuna—”

“fuck this,” he snaps, flipping you over in one swift move, pinning you beneath his bulky form.

his mouth crashes onto yours, rough and demanding, tongue shoving past your lips to tangle with yours. you moan into it, hands fisting his tank top, yanking it up to rake nails down his abs—rock-hard ridges flexing under your touch.

“been teasing me all damn session,” he growls against your neck, biting down hard enough to make you yelp. “strutting around in this slutty little outfit, rubbing your ass on me like a bitch in heat.”

you laugh breathlessly, legs wrapping around his waist to grind against the hard bulge in his pants.

“oh whatever, as if you didn't like it. come on, big guy—show me what you’ve been jerking off to in those videos of mine.”

he rips your sports bra up over your tits, exposing them to the cool air, nipples pebbling instantly. his mouth latches onto one, sucking hard while his hand pinches the other, twisting until you arch off the mat.

“shit, these tits are fucking perfect,” he mumbles, teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

you thread fingers through his pink hair, pushing him lower. he doesn't hesitate, kissing his way down your stomach, eagerly shoving your shorts down your thighs in a frenzy, groaning at the sight of your bare pussy, already slick and glistening.

“no fucking panties? you planned this, didn’t you?”

you smirk, spreading your legs wide. “duh. now shut up and tongue-fuck me.”

his head dives between your thighs, tongue flat and broad as it laps up your folds in long, sloppy strokes. he sucks your clit between his lips, humming vibrations that shoot straight to your core, and you buck hips against his face, smearing wetness across his chin.

“fuck, you taste so good,” he rasps, two thick fingers plunging inside you without warning, curling against your walls, making your legs shake. you cry out, thighs clamping around his ears, but he pries them apart with brute strength, holding you open as he finger-fucks you harder, tongue flicking your aching bud relentlessly.

the pressure builds fast, coiling tight in your gut, and when he adds a third finger, stretching you wide, you shatter—squirting all over his hand and mouth in hot, messy spurts. he drinks it down greedily, lapping every drop, eyes locked on yours as you tremble through the aftershocks.

“messy. my kind of woman,” he praises with a smirk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, but you’re already sitting up, shoving him onto his back. he settles back with an 'oof', laughing.

“now it's my turn.”

he raises his hands in defense, it's not like he was gonna stop you. you yank his sweats down, practically tearing off his boxers like a rabid animal. his cock slapping against his abs, pretty pink pubes dusting around the veined shaft, curving upwards with a fat, leaking tip.

your mouth waters, you wrap your lips around the head, sucking him deep until he hits the back of your throat.

he hisses, hips jerking up involuntarily. “jesus fucking christ—slow down or i’ll cum.”

but you don’t, bobbing faster, hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper, hand stroking what won’t fit. saliva drips down his shaft, pooling at the base, you fondle his balls, rolling them gently as you hum around him.

his fingers tangle in your hair, guiding your rhythm, and soon he’s thrusting shallowly into your mouth.

“fuck, go-gonna cum—don't stop.”

that makes you suck even harder until he groans loud, shooting thick ropes across your tongue and lips, some splattering your chin. you swallow what you can, licking the rest off with a satisfied hum.

he’s panting but still hard, cock twitching as you quickly straddle him before he can even think, sinking down onto his length in one smooth slide.

“oh god,” you moan, walls clenching around his girth—he’s so big, splitting you open deliciously.

you start riding him slow at first, grinding circles that rub your clit against his pelvis, but he grabs your ass, slamming you down harder.

“faster, brat. fuck me like you mean it.”

you pick up the pace, bouncing wildly, tits slapping with each thrust, his cock dragging against every sensitive inch inside you. sweat slicks your bodies, the room filled with wet slaps and your shared gasps.

he flips you suddenly, bending you over the bench in doggy style, pounding into you from behind with brutal snaps of his hips.

“this what you wanted? getting railed like a whore in the gym?” his hand cracks across your ass, the sting blooming into heat, and you push back to meet him.

“ye-yes—harder, please, fuck me just like that!”

he obliges, angling deeper to batter your g-spot, one hand reaching around to rub frantic circles on your clit. you squirt again, soaking the bench beneath you, but he doesn’t stop, chasing his own release.

finally, he pulls out, and you yelp as he manhandles you into mating press—knees pressed to your chest, ankles by his ears as he sinks back in. the position lets him hit impossibly deep, cock bullying your cervix with every thrust.

“gonna fill this pussy up,” he grunts, sweat dripping onto your skin. you nod frantically, nails digging into his back.

“do it—cum inside me, kuna. fuck!”

a few more erratic pumps and he buries himself to the hilt, spilling hot and thick, flooding your insides as you clench around him, squirting one last time in a gush that mixes with his seed. he collapses over you, both panting, his cock softening but still plugged inside.

“fuck…shit,” he mutters after a beat, pulling out slowly, watching his cum leak from your fluttering hole. you sit up, legs shaky and press a kiss to his jaw.

he grunts as he scoops you up like you weigh nothing, walking you both to the shower. his red eyes look down at your disheveled figure in his arms and smirks.

“pornstar princess, huh?”

KAMOSWRLD 2025 ©

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tags - @1stqueenofhell @cupidstrace @mimuju