dior ♡

⧣ 20 have you ever tried this one? ୨୧ 𓂃 ꩜

[diorviax]

ᘒ 𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐑! ✎ ( ˶ᵔᴗᵔ˶ )

the one and only, diorviax! she sure is a busy woman! where her and her team constantly brew up new amazing singles! watch out every now n’ then! 💋

⸝⸝ ҂ 𓂃 rules • tour info • the fan n’ fic tour (masterlist) links comin’ soon!

☕️ ⸝⸝ ︵ ★ 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 ᠀ 𝟎𝟏 !

toji & choso # 1 lover, family & friends, doggos, music, anime, gaming, matchas and iced lattes, writing & more!

[toruuholic]

18+ sweet kisses from husband!nanami ໒ ྀི>֯ . <ྀི֯ ̥ ︣ა

kento’s large hands are gentle but firm, folding your thighs up and back until your knees kiss your chest, opening you completely to his tired, hungry gaze. he exhales a long, shaky breath against your soaked folds, warm and reverent, like he’s finally come home.

he’s still in his work clothes—tie loose, top buttons popped, sleeves rolled to the elbows. the faint smell of his day clings to him: crisp paper, ink, train metal, and that quiet cologne you love. it only makes you ache more.

“there’s my sweet girl,” he murmurs, voice gravelly and soft all at once. “been thinking about this pretty thing all day.”

before you can whimper out a reply, his lips brush the most sensitive part of you—once, twice, feather-light—then press a slow, syrupy kiss right over your swollen clit. just one long, lingering smooch!

you squeak.

he smiles against you, small and terribly fond, then does it again. and again. little loving pecks, each one wetter than the last, each one dragging a pathetic little sound out of your throat. his tongue doesn’t even come out yet, plush lips mouthing at you like you’re something delicate and delicious he’s allowed to savor.

“mmm… so needy for me already,” he coos between kisses, the vibration making your hips twitch. “look at how she flutters when i kiss her… hi, pretty thing… hi, baby…”

another kiss. deeper this time. lips parting just enough to suckle the tender bud gently, then release with a sticky little sound. your hips can’t help but twitch toward him.

“sooo cute when you try to push up into my mouth. have some patience, honey,” he whispers, kissing the hood of your clit again, then lower, then lower still, until he’s kissing right along your dripping entrance, where you’re clenching and fluttering around nothing. soft, wet, adoring kisses, trying to learn every tiny shiver by heart with his mouth. his tongue slips out just enough to trace slow, soothing circles around the rim, petting lovingly.

the smooth, wet muscle glides up your puffy folds in a long, luxurious lick to press another chaste peck to your clit that has you whimpering.

“k-kento—please—”

“hush, let me say hello properly first.” his voice is all honey and exhaustion and adoration. he nuzzles the whole messy, dripping center of you, nose bumping your clit while he scatters more kisses along your folds, slow and noisy and shameless. “missed you so much, honey… missed this sweet cunt… let me love on her a little longer, okay? she’s been so patient… my pretty, needy girl deserves every single kiss.”

he seals his mouth over you then in another lingering kiss that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll. you feel him smile again when you sob his name.

one more big, syrupy smooch right at the center, lips smacking softly, and then he goes right back to lapping and sucking to make all your thoughts melt away.

[starspenxcie]

𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚ ⊹

18+ MDNI, smut - bf!sukuna making you cum despite your antidepressant meds

you’ve been squirming in his lap for what feels like ages.

he’s got you spread wide open. messy. wet

your back arched. your thighs twitching. your hands trembling. you’ve already come close twice, but it never tips over. you feel your body begin to go tight with frustration.

sukuna doesn’t seem bothered at all. in fact, he’s lounging on the couch like a king. fully clothed. large cock straining against his sweats.

and he’s smiling!

that smug, self-satisfied little curl of his lip. 

his thumb presses slow circles into your clit.

“this the meds again, baby?” he murmurs.

you nod. try not to cry. your voice is breathy and small. “i’m sorry.”

he clicks his tongue.

“nuh-uh. none of that. this pussy’s soaked. you’re feelin’ it. you just need the right push.”

you whimper. shift against his fingers.

“don’t worry, sweetheart.” he hums, all lazy and pleased. “i got you.”

nextt thing you know, he’s got you on your knees. facedown, ass up and drooling into a pillow while he eats you out from behind like he’s ravenous. two of his fingers are curling deepinside. tongue pressed flat against your clit. his hand spreads you even wider.

when sukuna sees how wet you are, he draws out almost an animalistic growl. “fuck, baby.”

“look at that. all this for me? and you’re sayin’ you can’t come?”

you whine. shake your head.

he sucks your clit into his mouth. sloppy and obscene.

“nah, baby. you will. not stoppin’ ‘til i wring it outta you.”

you gasp when he adds a third finger. he crooks them just right and your whole body jerks.

“there it is,” he grins. “tight little spot right there, huh?”

you sob into the sheets.

he doesn’t stop.

next thing you know, his heavy cock is slapping against you wet cunt. once. twice. fat head nudging your entrance. then, he’s splitting you open inch by inch. his hand tightly gripping the back of your neck. holding you down.

“relax, baby. let me in.”

you cry out as he bottoms out.

he groans. “fuck, you feel that? how deep i am?”

he ruts into you hard. the wet sounds of your bodies meeting echoes throughout the room. there’s no teasing now. just utterly determined and ruthless thrusts. his hips slamming against your ass. the kind of rhythm that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

he knows your body too well.

he’s watching your every twitch, every gasp and chasing your orgasm down like it’s a manhunt. his fingers sneak down to rub your clit again. rough and fast. just the way you like it.

“c’mon. i know you’re close. fuckin’ take it.”

you’re trembling. overwhelmed. everything’s too much. and suddenly-

you come.

white-hot. legs locking up. mouth open in a silent scream. your whole body spasming under him. he curses loud and manages to pulls out just in time. spilling his thick cum all over your lower back. panting like he just finished a goddamn triathlon.

after, he flips you over. kisses your sweaty cheek. wipes you down with a soft cloth and tucks you into his chest.

“told you i’d get you there,” he smirks.

you blink up at him, completely fucked-out and adorable.

he smirks. kisses your forehead.

“i always finish what i start.”

based on this request

A/N: i'm not 100% sure what it feels like with antidepressant meds and i researched a bit, but hopefully it's not too far off!!! 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯

taglist: @im-a-simp139, @tojiful, @happyberryave, @lisabelhyhn, @mialafavorita, @tet-yy, @sxpernova, @airfyre, @chewiebee, @sukunaslovergirl, @pickledsoda, @sukunasonahole, @heh123321, @lovebythuuu

[revolvingsaturn]

𝜗𝜚 asking Choso to degrade you, but he just can’t bring himself to be mean to his perfect, pretty girlfriend! tears ensue.

more like this

ೃ࿔*:･

Choso is sweet. Painfully so, in the way that melts your heart into a warm puddle of adoring goo every time he has sex with you. He’ll murmur quiet praises in your ear, accompanied by soft moans and whispers of reverence.

“You’re so pretty.”

“Taking me so well, I’m so so proud of you.”

And, his favourite, a simple “I love you” as he fucks his cum back inside. With his tongue. Or his fingers, he isn’t choosy.

But, sometimes, you just wish he’d be a little bit… meaner, maybe.

“Cho, I’ve been thinking.” You say, unsure on how to broach the topic. “You’re perfect the way you are, of course, and I don’t want what I’m about to say to make you feel like you’re doing something wrong-“

That gets his attention. Huge brown eyes locking onto your face, lip jutting out in concentration as you speak.

You sigh. “When we, um, have sex…” he blushes, but keeps his eyes on you, “…do you think you could… I don’t know, be a little bit mean?”

“But, baby…” he pouts, “how could I? You’re so perfect I can’t not be nice, and your eyes go all big and you feel so soft around me.” You roll your eyes in embarrassment, “but… if it’s what you want, of course I will. Anything for you.”

And oh, do you perk up at that.

The change happens the next evening, with dinner forgotten on the table as Choso pliably bends you down into the mattress. Your back arches, face smushed into the pillows, and he clears his throat. You’re expecting praise as usual, but instead-

“Fuck, baby, look at you-“ he pants, voice cracking, “so greedy for me, I can see you sucking me in.”

You smile blissfully. “You- hck- you can be meaner, Cho, I can take it-“

Your voice is cut off by a sharp thrust from behind, Choso’s pelvis smacking into your ass hard enough to leave a mark. He fills you ruthlessly, the whites of your eyes fluttering behind your eyelashes as he relentlessly ruins your cunt.

You're on the verge of something good, so, so good, and your moans come out in tangled, wrecked little huffs. Saliva smears across your lips and the pillow, cotton dampened under the damp lacquer of blissed-out drool seeping steadily from your parted lips. You're almost in disbelief- he's really doing it, your sweet, caring Choso is degrading you for all he's worth, and reaping the rewards.

"Fuck, fuck-" you wail, eyes screwed shut as another swathe of slick decorates the base of Choso's swollen cock. Oh, how you wish you could see- see the gloss spread across his pelvis, coo up at him, but your neck is immobilised.

Not just in pleasurable shock at his harshness, but you physically cannot move. Choso has taken it upon himself to weave one of his big hands through your messy hair and slam your face down into the cushion below, rendering you unable to do anything but lie there and take it like the dumb girl he keeps saying you are.

"You're so needy." He breathes, taking in the arch in your spine and the way your pussy clenches tighter around him. He hisses at the squeeze. "Fuck, you are needy, aren't you? All you can do is whatever I tell you, isn't it?"

"I- I-"

"Can't speak?" He moans from behind, palm still splayed hungrily across your hips. "Fuck, you really like this?"

"I'm gonna- fuck, Cho-"

“Shut up.” He continues shakily, “shut up, you don’t deserve to speak, do you? Just lie there like the slut you are-“

You moan. Never, never would you have dreamed to hear that little piece of degradation drip out of Choso Kamo’s beautiful mouth, and the surprise pushes you over.

“Look at you cumming all over my cock, too stupid to even hold it-“ a whine tangles itself around his speech, then a sob-

A sob?

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m so so sorry-“ he bleats, wretchedly big tears working their way down his cheeks as he still manages to fuck you through your orgasm.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean any of it, you’re pretty and perfect-“ he keeps going, reverting back to his default (and only, apparently) setting of doting praise, emptying himself out inside you until it’s splurging out onto the sheets.

You lie there and shake through it, back still arched under his big hands. You don’t even realise he came until you hear the noise, a high-pitched whimper muffled against the sweaty skin of your nape while Choso plasters his toned front to your back.

“I’m sorry…” he keeps whispering into your skin, “I tried, baby, I really tried, but…” his lip quivers like an overgrown toddler and your heart aches through the onslaught of giggles you’re trying to hold back.

“Choso-“

“You aren’t a slut, you never could be, you’re the furthest thing from it-“

“Cho-“

“And I didn’t mean what I said about you being greedy, you can have me any time you want, if anything I’m the greedy one and you should- should punish me for it-“

“Choso, I know you didn’t mean it.”

He blinks at you. “You do?”

“I asked you to be mean, Cho- and if you don’t want to be, then that’s fine.” You assure him, naked and gorgeous and all his.

He nods, hair flopping out from behind his ears. Then, he clears his throat. “But, baby…”

“Yes?”

“Can you be mean to me next time?”

Is he fucking serious?

ೃ࿔*:･

masterlist

a/n: all credit for this idea goes to @f33bs because she’s been asking me to write this for MONTHSSSS!! <33

tags (open):

@yvannaille @f33bs @loverofladybugs @p3stop3sta @arabellasolstice @dreamcastgirl99 @starsandni7 @sharkiethrts @what-the-jams @likstars @elenathriel @gyusheadphones @savagecatsuga @sxpernova @wqsrs @kakuthefish @megssleepygirl @olegirldowntheblock @sugerfilled

[muriscenes]

“𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.” — 𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀

just higuruma eating you out like a starved man. (oh what men with big noses do to me).

The door to your shared apartment clicked shut behind Higuruma, the sound heavy with the weight of his exhaustion. His hair was disheveled, strands sticking up from where he'd run his hands through it too many times during the day. He shrugged off his suit jacket, letting it drop onto the couch without a care, his tie already loosened around his neck. You could see the tension etched into every line of his face, his eyes shadowed by the relentless pressure of back-to-back court cases. Tomorrow's retrial loomed like a storm cloud, he had to prove his client's innocence, and the stakes felt impossibly high after today's grilling in the courtroom.

He spotted you in the living room, curled up on the couch with a book, and something in his expression softened just a fraction. “Hey,” he muttered, voice rough from hours of arguing. You set the book aside and stood, crossing to him. His arms wrapped around you immediately, pulling you close, his face burying into your shoulder. He inhaled deeply, like your scent was the only thing grounding him. “Rough day,” he admitted, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, running your fingers through his hair. “I can tell. You need to unwind.” His grip tightened, hands sliding down to your hips, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh there. The air between you shifted, charged with the unspoken need for release. He kissed your neck, slow at first, then harder, teeth grazing your skin. “I need you,” he whispered, the words laced with desperation.

Before you could respond, he was guiding you toward the bedroom, his steps urgent. Clothes came off in a hurried tangle. Your shirt tugged over your head, his buttons popped open as you worked his shirt free. His pants hit the floor, revealing the bulge straining against his boxers, but he ignored it, focused entirely on you. He pushed you back onto the bed, but then paused, eyes locking onto yours with that intense, lawyer's gaze. “Sit on my face,” he said, voice low and commanding, the stress making him direct, unfiltered.

Your heart raced at the request, heat pooling between your legs. You loved this—loved how his big nose fit perfectly against you, how it added that extra pressure that made everything sharper. He lay back on the pillows, pulling you up his body until you straddled his chest. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging in with a firmness that bordered on bruising, holding you steady as you shifted forward. The emotional undercurrent hummed between you.

You positioned yourself over his mouth, knees on either side of his head, your pussy hovering just above his lips. He didn't wait—his tongue flicked out, flat and broad, licking a slow stripe up your slit. The sensation hit you immediately, wet and insistent, making your breath hitch. “Higuruma...'”you whimpered, hands bracing on the headboard for balance. He groaned into you, the vibration sending a jolt through your core. His nose brushed your clit as you lowered yourself further, the prominent bridge pressing right against that sensitive bundle of nerves. It was perfect, the size of it allowing you to grind down just right, the tip nudging your clit with every subtle rock of your hips.

His grip on your thighs tightened, nails biting into the skin as he pulled you closer, urging you to ride him harder. He ate you out like a man starved, tongue delving deep into your folds, lapping at your entrance before sucking your inner lips into his mouth. The sounds were obscene—wet smacks and your soft gasps filling the room. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his shoulders tensed beneath you, channeling all that pent-up frustration into devouring you.

You started moving, rolling your hips in a rhythm that had his nose rubbing circles over your clit. It was overly sensitive already, swollen from the building arousal, each press sending sparks up your spine. “I caaant” you moaned, the words tumbling out unbidden. He hummed in response, the sound buzzing against your skin, encouraging you. His tongue thrust inside you now, fucking in and out with deliberate strokes, while his upper lip sealed around your clit, sucking lightly. The dual sensation was overwhelming, his nose grinding against the hood, tongue filling you, hands kneading your thighs like he was anchoring himself to reality through your body.

Sweat beaded on your skin, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. You were a whimpering mess, trying to hold back the orgasm threatening to crash over you. Your clit throbbed under the relentless pressure of his nose, every grind making it pulse harder. “Not yet,” you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly. But he didn't let up, if anything, he ate you more fiercely, tongue swirling inside you, tasting every inch. His big hands slid up, one thumb parting your folds wider for better access, the other holding your ass, guiding your movements.

The emotional tension coiled tighter, his stress manifesting in the way he gripped you, like letting go of you would bring the world crashing back. You felt it in the quiver of his fingers, the low growls vibrating from his throat. “Come on,” he murmured against your pussy, lips brushing your clit. “Let me taste it.” His words pushed you closer, the realism of his need making your resolve crack. You rocked faster, chasing the edge while fighting it, your thighs trembling in his hold. His nose pressed deeper, the bridge flattening your clit just right, friction building to an unbearable peak.

Tears pricked your eyes from the intensity, your whimpers turning to cries as you teetered on the brink. He sucked harder, tongue flicking your entrance, nose bumping rhythmically. Finally, you couldn't hold it, your body seized, pussy clenching around his tongue as you came, flooding his mouth with your release. He drank it down greedily, hands locking you in place, nose still grinding to draw out every shudder.

As you collapsed forward, panting, he licked you clean with gentle swipes, his grip loosening but not releasing. The stress in his eyes had eased, replaced by a sated gleam. “Better,” he rasped, voice muffled.

[tojiscreampie]

𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ ─── ur boyfriend satoru gojo loooves ur boobs so much, he discovers he has a breeding kink?! m.list

a/n: wrote this when i was half asleep (sorry if it's messy)

mdni | warnings: pure smut, fem reader, reader has big boobas, kinda pervy!satoru, brief mentions of period, spitting, tit play, breeding kink ♡

your boyfriend is obsessed with your tits, to the point where he's constantly groping you over your clothes when you're just trying to do simple tasks around the house.

"ugh, satoru, seriously?-" you huff and roll your eyes when you feel your boyfriend press behind you while you're washing the dishes, his large hands squeezing your soft, heavy breasts.

"mmm, can't help it, haven't got to touch 'em all day." he pouts and nuzzles against your neck like a damn puppy.

he loves the way the top of your tits spill over your bra, watching the soft bounce with every single step you take. he's perverted— you both know it.

but you don't mind it. if anything, his pervy ass turns you on. hearing his soft grunts from across the room when you wear only a thin white tank-top, your heavy breasts bouncing freely as you move about the house. the way your nipples perk and your cheeks heat up when you hear him groan your name. "hngh- fuck, baby.. s-so perfect."

sometimes when you're a few days away from your period— breasts swollen and you're sooo fucking horny, you just have to ask your boyfriend for help.

"t-toru.." you nudge him awake, his arm laid across your tummy.

a sleepy groan escapes him, his eyes still shut as he squeezes you like you're his own personal pillow. "five more minutes..."

"please, toru..." you whine, shifting underneath him as your swollen, full breasts ache. "need your help." you nudge him again and he finally opens his eyes, blinking away sleep as he looks up at you with those icy blues. and then he sees it— the way your cheeks are slightly flushed, your breathing unsteady and shaky, and your tits... they somehow look- bigger?!

"huuurts, satoru. i need your help, please." your shaky whimper makes his cock twitch against your thigh, already leaking droplets of pre - and he swallows hard.

"f-fuck, baby..." he sits up quicker than you think you've ever seen him move, straddling your lap as his large hands caress the tender swell of your breast. "arms up for me.. there you go." his voice is rough, still laced with sleep, and it makes your already sensitive nipples perk instantly. your breath hitches when his thumb grazes the sensitive bud, the sensation sending sparks straight to your core.

"my poor, sweet girl." he coos, bringing both of his hands to knead at the sensitive tissue. "so swollen, god.. they're even bigger." he continues to knead one of your heavy breasts with his palm, leaning down to flick his tongue over your pointed bud.

"y-yes, more satoru, please," you tangle your hands in his soft, snowy white locks, begging for any sort of reprieve. he doesn't hesitate— locking his lips around your peak, latching on and rubbing his tongue in slow circles. your head falls back into the pillows, breathless whimpers escaping your lips.

it's not long before your panting, tugging harder at his hair, making his cock leak more against his boxers. "mmm, i know, baby.. let me take care of you." he releases your nipple, nibbling and sucking at the tender skin around it, kissing up your chest as your breaths come in short gasps. "satoru— fuck me, please." you're too horny to feel any shame, the growing mess in your panties a clear indicator.

"sweetheart, are you sure?" his cock is throbbing against your stomach, and he swears he could've came from just hearing those words leave your sweet lips. but he's big- he usually will prep you with a couple of fingers and make you cum on his tongue at least twice before he even thinks about sticking his cock in you. he always wants to make sure you're taken care of first, his perfect girl.

but now, his once bright blue eyes are now dark with lust, scanning over every inch of your face.

"need it, toru, need you."

god— you were going to be the death of him. he pulls down the waistband of your sleep shorts, his pupils dilating more when he sees the wet spot on your panties. he dips his head down, nudging his nose against the thin, sticky fabric and inhaling deep— his eyes rolling back and his hips jutting against the bed. you feel your face heat up again, tugging at his hair. you truly didn't want him to even bother with fingering you- you needed to feel him, every single vein of his long cock dragging along the sides of your gummy walls.

"toru, cmon-"

"just wanna taste..." he licks a messy stripe up your wet folds up to your throbbing clit, making your hips jerk against his face. "mmm- so needy, baby." after a few more torturous licks to your clothed clit, he finally sits back up on his heels, pulling your panties down. he just stares at you for a second — his eyes raking up and down your glistening folds, the curve of your swollen tits. how did he get so lucky?

he settles between your legs, his fingers gripping your thighs as he pushes your knees to your chest. "think she's ready for me, yeah?" he gives your pussy a quick slap, making you yelp and arch your back off the bed.

"hnngh- satoruuu, don't tease!" you pout your bottom lip at him and bring your hand to massage your achingly swollen breast. and that's all it takes, his much larger hand replacing yours as he finally gives you what you're so desperately craving, quickly disposing of his ruined boxers and burying himself into your tight cunt in one thrust.

you've taken him so many times before, but you don't think you'll ever get used to just how much he stretches you out. your nails leave small red crescents that burn on his skin, your breath feeling like it's being fucked out of you. he uses one arm to push your thigh up closer to your chest, your leg hanging over his shoulder, his cock bullying into you even deeper. "hck- s'deep, toru!!-"

but his eyes are focused on your chest — your heavy, bouncing tits. he spits directly onto your sore breast, smearing it across as he watches the soft skin glisten. wow, your boyfriend really is filthy — but it makes your cunt clench. "so perfect-" he whispers, almost to himself. you look up at him- a few strands of white stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat forming on his chest, and he's - drooling?! his thrusts growing sloppier, but still just as deep. "my pretty girl, wanna make you my wife."

your eyes widen, and before you're barely even able to register it — your orgasm hits you hard. "s-satoru!" tears fall down your cheeks as your gush around him, making his hips falter. "yeah, there's my pretty girl, fuck- gonna fill you up, baby.." he leans down and smashes his lips to yours - hot and messy. he pulls back, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth, his hand still kneading at your spit covered breast. "what'dya think, huh? hah- fill you up with so much cum, make you my wife and a mama?"

you're not even sure if you're registering exactly what he's saying, but you nod and buck your hips up to meet his punishing thrusts.

"y-yes satoru, want you to cum inside, please!" your begs and whimpers are music to his ears, your legs shaking and your vision blurring as another orgasm washes over you.

"god, these tits are gonna be huge, they're already so big, can't even imagine how they'll look filled with milk.." and- oh - he's drooling again — so fucked out and lost in your cunt and in the thoughts of watching your already swollen breasts swell even more.

now he's cumming hard — he didn't even know he could produce that much cum. "f-fuck," a broken moan of your name leaves his throat as his throbbing cock finally stops spurting.

he collapses onto you — both of your bodies slick with sweat, his spit dried on your bruised and bitten breast, and his cum leaking out around his half-hard cock. he peppers your forehead in kisses and wipes your tears before tilting your chin to kiss your swollen lips.

"don't worry babe, once these things are swollen with milk— i can help you out then, too." he gives your breast a playful smack, and you feel his cock stir back to life inside you.

you know you're in for a long night.

comments and reblogs appreciated! ♡ repost from my old account sytorusdoll

[liahcharms]

the (heated) contendings of horus and set

How brute of a God he was. A monster, Lord of Upper Egypt, Harbinger of Chaos, God of Wars, tormenting the country with his power. An usurper. So what happens when a sweet girl comes up one day, claiming that she's the one meant to inherit the rule over Egypt?

part of the Gods, Heroes, Warriors collection!

pairings: TrueForm!Set!Sukuna x F!Horus!Reader

content/warnings: MDNI, Ancient Egypt AU!, Sukuna is a warning himself, smut smut smut, true form Sukuna, double hands double dicks, creampie, mating press, belly bulge, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, Sukuna is massive, like I mean it MASSIVE, based on true myth heheh, p in v, double penetration, mean Sukuna, oral (fem!receiving), proper use of Sukuna's belly mouth

WC: 8.3k

a/n: heard you out, babe – based on this suggestion. Also, quick history lesson - Horus was actually a man with whom Set was both a rival and also had a homosexual episode. Both of them wanted to rule over Egypt (as in a Godly sense, not as Pharaoh). They were also uncle and nephew, but let’s not include incest in this fanfic. If you want to read more about Set and Horus, I truly recommend my fav yaoi Ennead. Enjoy!

divider by @uzmacchiato art from as always idk who (please help meeee)

Osiris is dead!

Words rumbled through the Godly world like thunder, striking each and every one of the deities. The ruler of Egypt, God of Fertility and Agriculture, one who gave laws and civilisation to humans, with a heart so good and merciful, believers and deities wept in wretchedness over the fate that descended upon him. The Nile turned red first time in history, with its swollen waters spilling over the banks, painting cities with blood as if a dreadful plague had marked them upon the loss of the mightiest of all. Mother Desert embraced the last pieces of his body as if trying to glue them up, upon seeing the state God himself was left in.

Dismembered!

With a head cut off his body, fingers scattered all over Egypt, arms and legs, and heart buried under the sand, as the murderer wished for him to descend down to Duat and never escape the grips of its darkness.

Such a brutal death it was, such an unfortunate one, from a hand of his loved one, the dearest friend, ruler of lower Egypt and Lord of the Red Lands, God of the Chaos and Violence, though Osiris always believed in the goodness of his heart and rationale he had, winning battle after battle and claiming himself as the God of War, the most powerful one.

Set.

What Osiris didn't expect, however, was the jealousy his dear friend possessed, as if ruling half of the country wasn't enough. As if he needed to grasp full control, make other deities weep under his hand, set a merciless regime upon Egypt and its people, always fearful of this one, unpredictable God.

He had lots of favouritism, however, from the highest of all – Ra, the Goddess of the Sun herself, who treated him gently and stood behind him quietly. Her sly eyes liked his brute and power, a thought of him being a rightful ruler coiling in her mind often, but she couldn't take his side openly, for the fate of her other deity children.

People of the upper lands build temple upon temple, Set's godly figures standing proudly, facing his red land – the desert – as if believers wished for him to protect them from the smell of passing filling these deadly sands. Pharaohs prayed too, the rulers of foreign lands cherished him, as a voice of everything bringing difference and chaos, including foreigners.

The friendship between him and Osiris bloomed, as if the merciful God was the only one able to tame the ferocious beast. The most powerful one who walked along the sandstorms wielding a scepter, his chariot bringing fear, a beastly mask making people kneel till the skin of their knees was bloody red from the sizzling sun.

Thus, how could it happen that such a loyalty ended up with Osiris's body cut through and through in madness, with his chamber looking rather like a bloody bathhouse? What thought has pushed the God of Storms to such deception? How could he have killed the ruler of Egypt himself?

And how could other Gods allow him to take over Osiris's throne just like that?

"My dear child," the voice of your mother was soft as her hands, cupping your cheeks gently. "The day is coming, you know of it, right?"

You nodded faintly, golden hoops clinking with the move of your head. She looked at you with love and tiredness, soft hair caressing the tip of your nose as she hugged you lovingly, with a faint tremble of her body.

"Mother," you started, hearing her weeping. "Mother, it's alright. I can do it, don't have any other choice."

And true it was, because as the only daughter of long-dead Osiris, the child no one knew of, you finally needed to go for what was rightfully yours. The throne of Egypt.

You weren't a deity yet, though of divine blood born, and the Goddess name given you was Horus, for the birds that always surrounded you and kissed your cheeks gently, bringing you a piece of sky to your body, hidden carefully in the deepest chambers of Isis's temple. She was a great mother, right Goddess, a crucial one, caring for magic, fate itself even, but she wasn't strong enough to overrule the slayer.

None of the Gods was, as Set was the most powerful deity, the most treacherous one, with a scepter heavier than Duat's monsters, making the pantheon tremble every time it hit the ground. In fact, you also couldn't defeat him by power itself, but wished for the Godly court to acknowledge your right to the throne. And maybe keep you safe, before he would wish to kill you.

Because he'll try to, and that's why your mother was weeping like a child, drenching your white robes with her tears. You were the only child they had conceived before your father's death, and a woman at that – truly unfortunate! For if you were a son, winning the power back would be much easier. Maybe you could even try to conquer Set, though the heavens would collapse before anyone could do it.

The faithful day came faster than you wished for, and now, it was time to walk proudly towards the Ennead, with other deities eyeing you up. Something bubbled in your throat, while a heavy falcon mask rested on your head. The white robe hung loose on your body, draping shoulders and legs, down to your ankles, making you look rather boyish and slim. Your mother didn't want to reveal your gender, yet, as it would be safe to do after the official approval of the council. But, well, how truly powerful the council was if they couldn't overthrow Set's cruel regime?

Your breath quickened when you took the next steps towards the great temple where Ennead – all nine, no, now eight gods, forming a rightful court – waited for the meeting your mother had called. She was there too, as you entered the hall, sitting with others high and mighty, with golden thrones hidden under the marble arch, their eyes watching you as your legs moved across the sandy road, under the blazing sun, and nothing but a deep wish for it to already end.

The meeting was set in the temple of Maat, Goddess of Truth and Justice, the one who weighs the hearts of the dead in Duat, a deity who could herself decide the truthfulness of your words and abolish the trickery of the usurper. And your mother was quite satisfied with this place too, because if there was someone Maat despised the most, it was the embodiment of chaos and brutality itself – Set.

And you saw him right away.

The moment you stepped inside the temple, he was there. Standing lazily in front of the deities, with arms crossed, one hand clutching a long scepter ending with a blade, reflecting the cold, marble columns of the temple.

Massive. That was the first word that came to your mind.

No, monstrous.

Your mother told you of him, and you should expect the God of War himself to be well-built, but you truly misjudged your expectations.

Set – or Sukuna, as his non-godly name sounded – was a monster himself, at least twice as tall and broad as you. His back was turned your way, wide as dunes, rising in peaks of heavy muscle beneath sun-kissed skin slick with heat. Droplets of sweat traced slow paths down his golden surface, catching the scorching light of the rising sun. Black tattoos wrapped tightly around his body, intricate and deliberate, for now visible only across his back and—

Four arms.

Oh God.

The temple suddenly fell quiet, smaller deities standing around with mouths gaping, glancing between you and Sukuna. He didn't look your way even for a moment, with his back proudly straight and chin up, muttering something about wasting his time and sighting heavily.

He didn't look at you even as you stood in the same line as him, though at least two meters away, keeping the distance as he truly could wrap one of his four hands around your throat if he wished to.

Your breath was ragged, head filled with thoughts, and eyes suddenly bulged as you looked at him secretly.

A heavy mask rested upon his head, grazing his shoulders. Its long ears ended in squared tips, a dark snout curving downward, eyes deeply set and fixed toward the court with stillness. You could not see his face – no more than anyone could see yours beneath the blue falcon mask that hid you from the nose up. Yet what little was visible betrayed his strength – a sharp, defined chin, lips pressed into a firm line. Black markings ran from his jaw down his neck to his chest, hugging the authority of his body.

Your gaze drifted lower despite yourself, tracing the breadth of his shoulders, the four burly arms flexing subtly, the solid muscles of his chest and abdomen carved as if from sandstone. And then–

Dear Lord.

Was that… a mouth?

He stood still beneath the blazing Egyptian sun, divine and dreadful all at once – a true god and a monster.

"Child," a feminine voice has suddenly spoken, and a woman with feathers on her arms stood in front of the Ennead – Maat. Your mother was there, glancing at Sukuna with the tip of her finger between lips, as if trying to predict his reaction. "Please, let us know your name."

You gulped, mask showing nothing but a part of your cherry cheeks, as you glanced at all eight Gods sitting in front of you. "My mother named me y/n, but I present under my divine name Horus."

Small Gods murmured, their eyes never leaving your white-clothed figure, with golden bracelets hugging your still arms.

"And who are your parents, child?" She asked again, with a soft voice. It sounded sweet as honey, pleasant to your ears as you once again took a deep breath.

"My mother–"

"And who the fuck cares?" a voice thundered through the temple, low and heavy, silencing all the murmurers solely with the darkness of its tone. The hit of the metallic scepter followed, and the floor shook.

Sukuna cleared his throat, two upper arms crossed on his broad chest, lower ones hanging loosely, with one clenched around the tall pole.

"My God, please use proper language," Her voice was stern when she scolded him, with feathers on her arms tensing.

"Then speak quicker," Sukuna barked. "I showed you mercy by not ruining this council, so stop wasting my time."

"My God, this council serves other deities and believers, too. We do not aim to infer your rule. However–"

But Maat's words seemed to pick Sukuna's attention, with his body tensing slightly. Before he could bark another order, however, one of the eight Gods interrupted. "Maat, could you please tell us what the reason is for the Ennead meeting? My God, please grace us a bit of your time."

Maat took the golden scroll clutched in her hands and rolled it slowly, with a gentle frown appearing between her brows. It seemed like no one besides you and your mother knew the reason for the meeting, and this alone made you stress even more.

"The meeting was held at the request of Goddess Isis. She wants the council to consider this child and its godly lineage, for its mother is the Goddess of Magic herself and Father..." Her voice suddenly flattened, as if stuck in her throat. Lips parted, eyes gazing between you and Sukuna, with a trace of some strange sense. Dread? Concern?

"Who is it?" The council asked.

"And Father is God of Fertility, Osiris."

It was fast.

Too fast.

Something you should have expected and prepared for, but truly didn't have time. As before you saw your mother's widening eyes and Maat turning towards the council, you already couldn't breathe.

Two strong hands clenched on your throat, picking you up, up, up, till your feet were hanging loosely in the air, lungs burning, gaze on the same level as the eyes of a beastly mask.

It was pure chaos, with your mother's screams ringing somewhere, the council having no power whatsoever over the raging monster that grabbed your weak body, and other deities looking at you with compassion. Such an unfortunate child, to stand in front of the usurpator himself without any guard!

"My God, please!" your mother cried, lips trembling at the sight of your nails scratching Sukuna's hands relentlessly, from palms till forearms, leaving bloody trails over his burning skin.

"A child, huh? So your whorish mother somehow managed to keep you hidden for that many years." He murmured, voice low enough to speak solely to you. "Aren't you just a weakling for a man? What, wanted to take the throne back? Challenge me?"

But you couldn't say anything, with your chest shrinking under the shortage of breath and fingers trying to loosen his merciless grip.

"Say something, boy. That's what you came here for." Sukuna laughed deeply, looking at your wringing body, till... till something caught his eye.

He didn't see it before, skipping your weak posture and not gracing you with a single glance, but from that close, your body didn't look masculine at all. In fact, his third hand grazed the arc of your ass and the slim of your waist, fingers going up, up, up, till it met with something soft and heavy.

The next second, your flushed face and bloodshot eyes met with long beams of sunshine. Mask dropped heavily down the sand, letting loose hair cup your rosy cheeks, drenched with weighty tears, smooching your skin. It was bright, too bright, with all the deities looking at your face – very red, very delicate, very feminine. As none of them expected a woman hiding under the falcon's mask, with her look so lovely and cheeky, it made some hearts tremble in sympathy.

But it seemed Sukuna was shocked too, as his fingers loosened up a little, his lips opened, as if he wanted to throw your way another filthy comment.

Before he managed, however, he completly lost his grip and dropped you down on soft sand. Heavy cough shook your body, air tasting like the sweetest treat, as you took deep breaths to calm your burning lungs.

Your eyes looked up, seeing God in a rather odd position – tied by golden threads. All four of his arms behind his back, neck bound to wrists, wrists lashed to ankles, as he kneeled down with muscles bulging under the flimsy rope.

"What a sight!" A deep voice cut through the air, before the crowd gasped.

Something, someone, entered the temple, with a halo around their body so radiant, you could swear that the Goddess of the Sun herself had descended to earth.

And, well, it seems you were right.

For a myth clothed in white, almost misty robes was walking your way, with sun-kissed hips swaying swiftly and heavy breasts covered by long, black hair. She looked breathtaking, potent, with a gaze so intense it made your eyes drop immediately, glancing nowhere but at your bare feet. Her voice was low but gentle, almost motherly, with a hint of cheekiness, for the Goddess of the Sun was the mightiest deity, more powerful than Osiris himself, and all the current gods came directly from her womb.

"My Goddess," the council spoke quietly, bowing their heads. "What brings you here?"

But Goddess of the Sun, Ra, simply waved her hand, standing next to kneeling Sukuna.

"Oh my, you truly wanted to kill this sugar, hm?" She giggled quietly, seeing God of War himself in such a pathetic state. Although if he wished, he certainly could break the golden thread with the sole force of his arms.

But the Goddess of the Sun always liked him the most and treated him with kindness; killing her would be not only a hassle but a waste.

"Ra, what are you doing?" He muttered, golden lines digging into his skin.

Goddess looked rather cheeky when her deep, lined eyes moved to you.

"You've grown up to be such a beautiful woman, y/n. Although presenting yourself like that was rather foolish," She giggled and helped you stand up. "You truly look like him."

Her words seemed to echo in the speechlessness of the temple, forcing other deities to furrow their foreheads and raise the whispers once again. Including Ennead, for they tilted their heads, as if in mishearing.

"My Goddess," Maat started. "You knew about all of it?"

"Of course! I'm the Goddess of Sun, know of everything going on down here."

Maat cleared her throat, trying once again. "My Goddess, you should've informed us of Osirisi's heir. We could've–"

But Ra scoffed and rolled her eyes, fingers grazing your soft cheeks. "And you would do what? Let this brute kill the baby? Oh, please, this is much more entertaining!"

Because one thing the Goddess of the Sun was known for was her love of amusement. She wasn't usually meddling with the affairs of deities nor the council per se, but if there was a chance to gain something and have much fun with it, Ra would be the first one take her pleasure. She didn't rule like she used to, but remained the most powerful God in the whole pantheon, appearing here and there as she wished, but never siding with anyone directly.

Well, at least that's how it should be, but her favour of Set was built upon years of his protection and serving loyally by her side. He was the killer of one god, but the guardian of another. Such an odd man!

"My Goddess, according to the law, she's the one who ought to claim the throne. Does it mean that Set–"

But Ra sighted deeply, kohl-lined eyes with a gentle swirl at the ends glued to your face, as if thinking what to do with such a pure child!

"Yes, it means she should claim it–"

"You whor–" Sukuna started, but golden threads suddenly put him in a muzzle.

"But!" Ra raised her finger, eyes glancing back at the tamed monster. "God of War is a current ruler, thus it's only fair for them to compete."

The silence that fell in the temple was, well, heavy would be an overstatement.

Compete? You? Has she seen your body? Has she seen his body?

If she meant to compare your powers, you had nothing on the thousand-year-old God of War, who could raze the whole of Egypt to the ground with a single hit of his scepter.

"What do you mean by 'compete', my Goddess?" Maat furrowed her brows, looking at the cheerfulness that filled the woman.

"Well, think about it! Do you truly believe that giving a throne to a girl like her, with zero knowledge of ruling or battling, would be smart? Maybe she is Osiris's daughter, but he's been long dead, and we moved on!" She laughed loudly, raising a wave of murmurs. In the corner of your eye, you saw your mother's clenched jaw and fingers digging into the golden throne. "Let them have a competition then. The one who wins will rule Egypt."

She then glanced between you and Sukuna, his arms wriggling under the golden thread, mouth tightly shut, and you wished to his face fully, just to have a peek at the fury that must have filled his eyes.

"What do you say, dears? Do you want to compete for power?" She looked you straight in the eyes, as if feeling your hesitation. "Don't worry, dear, you won't have to fight him directly."

You could almost feel the gaze of your mother putting a hole through your skull, so you agreed with a gentle nod of your head. Ra moved her gaze to Sukuna before snapping her fingers. Golden thread left his body as he took a deep breath and stood up straight, towering over both of you.

He didn't say a word first, deep eyes of a beastly mask looking at you from above, with four arms this time crossed on his chest and abs. The mouth on his abdomen was closed, and maybe you noticed a hint of curiosity swirling in your mind, over how it could feel–

"Good," Sukuna almost roared, sending chills down your spine.

"Excellent!" Ra clapped her hands. "Maat, dear, you know what to do!"

Maat sighed, looking at the council who could truly do nothing but nod their heads and let Goddess of the Sun have her fun.

Something suddenly panged in your chest, as if moving, wriggling, trying to run off, and before you noticed, your heart appeared in Maat's left hand, with another one, twice bigger, in her right. She put them both on the golden scale in front of her, the same one she used to weigh sins of the dead.

"Then both of you agree and promise to participate in contendings for the rule of Egypt lawfully and fairly, is that right?" Maat said, glancing at warm hearts beating slowly on the golden plates.

"Yes." Both you and Sukuna answered.

"Both of you agree to partake in events chosen randomly by the Ennead and give rule to the one who'll win at least three, is that correct?"

"What a crap, I could just kill her if I wanted to," Sukuna muttered, fingers itching just to grab your neck once again.

But this time, maybe in a different setting, as those pouty lips of yours, together with wet, blushed eyes, somehow couldn't leave his mind.

"Set," Maat started slowly, as if trying to calm a ferocious beast. "If you win, you'll be acknowledged as the rightful ruler of Egypt, and the council will strip you of the usurper's name. Noone will ever try to seize your throne, non interefere your rule in any way."

Sukuna tilted his head, black ears following his move, as if thinking about having pathetic competition with this brat or just killing her on the spot.

"Fine." He finally grumbled.

"Good, it's settled then. The competition will start in four days, till then you may stay here and relax." She turned towards the council, waiting for the row of their nods. "I announce the meeting of Ennead as finished."

𓂀 𓂀 𓂀

The first day has passed quietly. You settled in your chamber, and a temple was big enough to have both you and Sukuna without ever letting you meet one another.

Your mother wept for some time, apologising for the mess and such an unpredictable turn of events, cursing the Goddess of the Sun with the harshest words you've ever heard from her lips. You tried to console her (walls have ears!) and ensure that the competition would surely be fair, although you didn't believe it yourself. For how else should you fight for the throne if not by using power?

And as she couldn't stay with you inside the Maat's temple, she left in the evening of the first day, kissing you goodbye and promising to convince the Ennead and beg them to show your grace.

On the second day, you walked around the place and enjoyed being alone for the first time, as till now your life had been focused on nothing but planning the overthrow of Sukuna. Maat's temple laid between the dunes, in deep parts of Lower Egypt, far away from the Upper region ruled by Set. You wondered how she felt to have the embodiment of chaos itself under her roof, the trickster and brute, who represented everything she tried to get rid of in this world. But she was too good and needed to stay objective, thus constantly hiding in her chamber just to not meet Sukuna himself.

You walked these corridors as if the temple belonged to yourself only, glancing at tall, stony walls painted with Maat's myths and mixing in rays of colour, wrapping around columns up to the roof. Dunes from the huge window of your chamber looked magnificent during the day, but even more beautiful in the night, with the temple's gentle torches lighting the paths leading towards the desert.

"The view is better from the bathhouse." Maat mentioned the third day, and you decided to use her offer.

Thus, in the evening, draped only in white, flowy robes, easy to put on, but even easier to slip off, you went towards the bathhouse. Warm fire of the torches kissed your skin gently, leading your bare feet straight to the big chamber, with nothing but a huge pool and sparkling stars looking at your bare body. It seemed empty and quiet, if you didn't count the quiet whispers of the sand as it moved together with a cheerful wind. The desert was usually cold at night, but hot water warmed your body, wetting your feet and calves, going up till your soft belly and the swell of your breast, dipping under blue waves.

"Oh dear," you moaned quietly, tilting head back. It truly was relaxing, and the dunes looked splendid, dancing before your gentle eyes like an oasis.

All the stress for tomorrow's event suddenly vanished, with the warm water and the hum of sand clearing your body of all the worries.

But it seemed as if your time couldn't last long, as soon you heard a pair of heavy footsteps moving up behind you. Your eyes were closed, but the moment water dribbled, you opened them carefully, peeking at the person who caused water to spill over the pool's edge.

And you wished to leave this bathhouse immediately.

As the small waves were moved by his muscular body and meaty thighs, prodding the pool to sit right in front of you.

Sukuna.

But this time, without his beastly mask.

Just pinkish hair and ferociously crimson eyes, looking your way with the heaviest stare you've ever felt, almost pushing into the pool's wall behind you. His face was sharp and handsome, absolutely stunning, with almond eyes sitting deep right above the slightly bumped nose and pursed lips. You noticed two smaller eyes right on his cheeks and black tattoos carving his face like a godly tablet. He sat lazily, with four arms draped over the edge and massive thighs opened. The bathhouse's water was, unfortunately for you, crystal clear, and your eyes dilated, breath hitched at the sight of two–

"What are you looking at, brat?" He chortled, carefully following the gentle blush that bloomed on your cheeks, and hands trying to immediately cover up your breasts. "Why? Shy? Just a second ago, you were looking at me quite openly."

"I wasn't." You mumbled, thinking whether you should stay and try to rest or leave this monster alone.

Sukuna tipped his head, humming softly under his nose. "Do you truly believe that you can win against me?"

You didn't respond, closing your eyes once again to gain a bit of long-gone peace. He looked amused, following the curve of your breasts and the softness of your belly. Thighs clenched on the bench, with clear water giving him a perfect look at the mound of your cunt.

"I could defeat you without using strength." He added, something in his lower parts budging, at the mere sight of your lips that grimaced at his words.

"We'll see tomorrow." You stated, trying to finish this dilly-dally again.

"I don't know what you'll see, but surely I will see myself getting the throne back."

Your eyes abruptly opened, brows wrinkled, as moved by his foolish words. "You truly are arrogant, my God. Not only have you killed my father without a reason, but you also think of the throne as yours to take. Laws were made to be obeyed."

The corners of his lips suddenly turned up in a sneaky grin as he watched your face turn feverishly red. "Without a reason? That's what your whorish mother has told you?" Your mouth parted, as if stupefied. "Besides, I'm a God of War, Chaos," He lifted his fingers, twirling them gently. A part of a high dune on the horizon rose, till it soon flattened down with the rest of the desert. "Sand. You truly think that laws mean anything to me?"

He straightened up, unshameful eyes outlining your body up and down, resting longer on parted lips and pulled thighs. "If they did, maybe I wouldn't kill your father."

His words tore your heart apart, but lustful gaze and quiet voice made your stomach turn. You wished to hate him (truly!), but it was the first time someone had looked at you like that. With a look you could only compare to a starving jackal, strolling around its prey in circles, lingering patiently for its last breath. He had you at the length of his arm, and if he wanted to, he could easily grab your neck and pull you straight to his hardening cocks. Plural form indeed.

But he didn't. Just waited, patiently, as you wriggled under his eyes, trying to look everywhere, but not at his naked body and muscles upon muscles.

The air was tense, heavy, sticky with a sweat dripping from both of your bodies and filling your throat until breathing became difficult.

You needed to end this, quickly.

But before you stood up, his deep voice slashed through your ears once again. "Try to run away, and I'm gonna tie those pretty legs of yours."

His crimson eyes followed every frown of your forehead, gentle eyes gazing at him with fear, wet lips opening and closing, as if thinking how to deal with a brute of his sort.

"You can't hurt me according to law," you mumbled on one breath. "Why don't you just wait till tomorrow to kill me?"

And then – he laughed. Deeply, till his chest trembled and something in your core clenched. For all of his arms stretched towards you, long enough to graze the sizzling skin of your cheek. His thumb alone was thrice the size of your nose, and when it brushed your parted lips, you could do nothing but open them under his heavy touch.

"I don't want to kill you, brat," he muttered, feeling your warm breath hugging his calloused skin. "You know what's the easiest way to defeat God?"

You frowned, head shaking. The grin on his face looked devilishly handsome.

"Of course you don't, you're nothing but a stupid girl. Tell you what," his fingers dropped down to your chin, neck, wrapping around your skin brutally, but gently enough to still let you breathe. "Your whorish mother should have taught you this while keeping you closed. We, Gods of Egypt, have morals too, and according to our custom, the easiest way to overpower someone is to make them consume..." Oh, you knew. You've heard of it, read about it in books that sat dusty in Isis's temple. Skimming then sinfully, with a blushing shame, reading about that stuff between Gods and humans, though never experiencing them yourself.

For a God to lose their face in front of another one, they needed to consume their semen!

Sukuna chuckled, noticing your bulging eyes. "But, well, you found yourself in a pretty uncomfortable position here. And you know why, right?"

You glanced up, meeting his crimson gaze and tilted head, pinkish hair slightly wet from a floating steam and muscles dripping with sweat.

Of course, you knew.

"Because I'm a woman."

Thus, even if you desired, there was no way for you to defile Sukuna. But as for him...

And within the next second, you were suddenly pulled. All of his hands on your body – neck, waist, thighs – seating your dripping cunt riiiight on his two hard cocks. You strangled his hips with a shuddered breath, eyes on the same level as his, hands placed gently on his broad chest, lower belly stuck to–

"Mhmm," you moaned quietly, feeling a long and heavy muscle tasting the sweatiness of your skin.

Mouth on his abdomen opened, grazing your belly with its sharp teeth, kissing it gently with its tongue, going down down down, till you felt it on your mound.

"Smart girl, aren't you?" He chuckled, taking the wholeness of your face.

Flushed cheeks, rinsed like cherries, dimmed eyes with little droplets swirling in their corners, parted lips with sweet, little moans escaping from your clenched throat. You shuddered when his lower mouth bit the plush of your belly, tongue trying to go down lower, just to taste the sweetness of your cunt. And sweet it must've been indeed, because he couldn't stop thinking about your scent and the softness of your skin from that feral moment.

"But I'm not a brute like your father, so say that you want it, hm?" his voice dropped, one hand moving up to the swell of your breasts, thumb brushing the perked nipple gently. "Say that you want it, and we'll make a deal."

"W-what dea–mhmmm," you tried to ask, but your voice suddenly fell flat upon feeling the wet tongue swirling around your nipple.

Another mouth?

Sukuna chuckled, all four hands keeping your wiggling body tight in place – two on your asscheeks, parting them slightly and moving along his cocks, one around your throat, one on your flushed tits. And as monstrous as he was, he could manhandle your melting body using the tiniest bit of his power. You arched, feeling his heavy cocks catching on your dripping pussy, water flowing over the edge of the pool as you gripped his muscular shoulders.

"C-can you please s-stop for j-just a moment," you somehow choked out, nevertheless softening into his body like a slut, rubbing over his shafts, soaking them with gummy saps. Both of his hands moved your hips up, till they finally met with the cunning tongue of his lower mouth.

"Why? Distracted? Do you wish for me to do it tomorrow in front of your mother?"

Oh dear, you jerked at this sheer thought, but words caught in your throat the moment his lower tongue gave you meaaaan and filthy jolt. Its monstrous size wrapping around your whole cunt, licking, slurping, curving your drenched folds solely with its tip.

His fingers gripped the curve of your ass, moving your cunt up and down on his fatty tongue. And you tasted so fucking delicious. He wouldn't admit it outloud, but the moment his mouth swallowed the first droplets of your slick, something in his chest shook, cocks hardned, feeling the sugary sweetness of your drenched cunt.

"Let's make a deal, then. You," heavyyy lick. "Will back out of the trial."

"N-no–"

Teeth of his monstrous mouth bit your clit, till you deflected, back arching from the painful pleasure that dripped down your spine.

"Shut up, brat, let me speak. I will be the ruler of Egypt. But," as if feeling your pain, his mouth quickly gave you another lick, sucking on your plumped clit gently, pushing its tip through your squeezing folds, licking every corner of your dripping cunt. "You will rule with me. As my wife."

You moaned needily, desperately, feeling spongy muscle inside your pussy, big enough to already fill you up, tormenting this one chubby spot, till a gentle fog covered your eyes.

"A w-wife?"

Sukuna moved your hips, droplets of sweat forming on his temple because, fucking God, he had never eaten out a cunt like this, so creamy and sweet, moving together with his tongue like a good slut, leaking all over his meaty thighs and catching on his throbbing cocks till a faint, almost unhearable groan bubbled in his throat. Your walls clenched around his tongue, lips mumbled something under your sugary breath, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, with fingers tugging pinkish strands.

"What? Thought you wanted to rule? Do you think a weak woman like you could do it alone?" He chuckled, upper hands moving to the curve of your back, pushing you gently towards his broad chest. And you felt too good and fucked to care, feeling his breath tickling the plush skin of your ears. "I'm gonna give you a power, you will give me lots of successors, hm? That's the best I can offer, brat. Don't even try to challenge me, or I will fuck you stupid and fill you with my cum in front of your mother."

His words echoed in your head, lower tongue lapping through your folds relentlessly, teeth grazing your mound, tip pushing against the spongy spot, swallowing sweet and creamy cum that trickled down its meaty muscles.

"So?" he pushed, thumb of his upper hand cupping your drenched cheeks, crimson eyes looking straight at yours. Fucked, defeated, gleaning at him humbly, pathetically, with salty tears wetting the pads of his fingers. He leaned closer, lips licking droplets from your rosy cheeks, kissing you messily, going down, down, till he swallowed another moan escaping your throat. "Will you be my wife?"

You didn't really have time nor opportunity to think it over, already feeling a warmth coiling somewhere in your lower belly and walls clenching around his tongue. So you nodded politely, moving your hips up and down, up and down, riding his muscle like a good little slut.

"That's my girl," he grinned devilishly, and a moment later stood up, lifting you with his one arm. The pleasure you felt suddenly dissolved in your belly, warmth quickly disappearing, and a faint growl escaped your lips.

He chuckled, feeling a disappointment coming from your clenched cunt. "Don't complain, brat. I'm gonna stretch this cunt till you'll beg for me to stop."

He moved swiftly, walking his monstrous figure through the empty halls of the temple, with your body hanging off his shoulder and beefy arm keeping you in place. Torches licked your damp bodies, water trickling down from your fingers, droplets moving between the muscles of his back, carving roads, down till meaty thighs. You wriggled on his shoulder, till he finally placed his palm in front of your soaked cunt, smaller tongue rippling your folds once again.

"Such a needy slut, aren't you?" he grumbled, hand moving closer, with wet lips sucking on your pudgy, exposed clit. "No one ever taught you to be patient? I'll fuck this bratiness out of you."

You could only mewl and soften on his shoulder, legs slightly widening, fingers curling at the feel of this warmth coiling in your belly once again. Seconds later, your back landed on a soft mattress, with clean beddings hugging your naked body, cushions put under your hips, lifting them up up for Sukuna's heated look.

His sanity was hanging by a thread, eyes taking in the plumpness of your thighs, slick dripping down the mattress, knees slightly pushed against your chest, giving him a perfect look at your cunt flapping around nothing. He pushed one finger in, and it sucked him right away, as if in hunger and despair.

"Mhmmm, my God," you whimpered, keeping your legs open, wriggling under the crimson stare of his squinted eyes. "P-please–"

"Please, what? Do you even know what you're asking for?" He spat, a heavy glob leaking directly on your pulsing cunt, melting under the gentle curls of his thumb on your clit.

"P-please put them i-in," your small hands wrapped around his two cocks, putting them riiiight on your shaking belly.

Saying they were massive would be an understatement.

Monstrous? Yes, more like it.

More red than Sukuna's eyes, leaking with sticky precum right on your skin, the sheer length allowing them to go inside your womb straight away, maybe even up to your belly button. Veins curled around both shafts, and it seemed to Sukuna that you were too lost in pleasure to think about them with a sober mind. Because even he started to wonder where all this courage and sluttiness of yours suddenly came from, with little fingers grasping his cocks and gently swiping their feverish heads.

"Want it inside," you whined, cunt still leaking over his single finger already too fat for your clenching walls.

But Sukuna wasn't known for patience or mercy, being a rather brute God from whom female deities tried to stay away. For he never took a wife and used women only to meet his needs. Stories slipping from his chambers always involved a bit of violence and blood, as not one woman was able to withstand his ruthlessness.

It seemed, however, that with you it was different. Felt different. He couldn't really describe this sense, but he wished to give you pleasure only, worship your body till it'll melt under his touch, stuff you full of his cocks and move them gently along your clenching walls, watching the little tears dripping down your chin and enjoying short cries filling his chamber.

And when you spat on your hand, smearing it all over one of his reddened heads, something cracked.

He moved his cocks to your entrance, firstly pushing one. Cruelly. The first stretch felt absolutely brutal, with his wetted shaft going slowly through your walls, pushing against your muscles to let them fit its heaviness.

"N-no, I t-take it back!" You moaned, filling the fatness of his girth filling solely your entrance.

He didn't wait for a second one, because quite soon you felt its head hooking on your hole, stretching your cunt even wider, nasty, with your muscles pounding and head spinning. Black dots started to slowly cover your sight, head lulled back, hands on his belly, trying to push him away. "M-my God, p-please s-slower."

"I can't go any fucking slower," he barked, and you indeed noticed a droplet of sweat forming on his temple. Eyes closed, brows creased, all four arms quivered, when he glued your knees to your chest, pushing allll of his massive body on your weak figure. "Just endure it, fuck. It's gonna get better."

But in fact – it didn't.

At least for a while, because your poor hole took him in raw and needy, with new slick forming around his shaft and soaking it sweetly. His sun-kissed skin glowed under the gentle flames of candles, gaze focused solely on your fluttering hole, with creamy cum looking so delicious, his lower mouth opened once again. Its long tongue started off your pulsing clit, slowly going down to your plugged hole and licking it gently, to give his cocks even more slippery.

Breath knocked out of your lungs, throat tensed when he moved, forcing himself even farther. Seeing how difficult it was for you, with little hiccups melting with moans, his hand cupped your chin, crimson eyes meeting yours.

"Breath, brat. If you want to take them, breathe. That's right, go on, my good fucking girl," he talked you through it, following your slowly rising and falling chest, teary eyes glancing at him with a fever, and hands, slowly, slowly, tangling around his neck. "You're doing so good, so fucking good. Try to relax a bit, because your sweet cunt will cut my dicks off any second."

You purred, feeling his tongue on your neck, teeth grazing your jaw, cocks ripping you raw.

He pushed, with a filthy squelch, till you cried pitifully and clenched on his cocks again, feeling him forcing his way through the tight ring of your muscles. The tear felt delicious, and a fiery pain suddenly disappeared when his shafts kissed your cervix. Mouth on his belly was still working on your pudgy clit, sucking, licking, mewling it, till a shiver went down your spine and head tilted back.

"You see, it wasn't that hard, right?"

"Mhmm m-my God," you bubbled, mind stuppidly foggy.

"You're so tight, fuck. Never had a cunt like this," he licked the skin of your neck, smooched your cheeks, till his lips finally met with yours, eating all the little moans that fled them.

But when his balls finally met with your ass, full cocks placed heavily inside your cunt, he backed off.

Straightened, upper hands pushing the back of your thighs, lower hands on your waist, gripping tight. He was monstrous, towering, with a chest rising heavily, crimson eyes looking down at you with a madness.

"My God?" you asked nervously, seeing the crafty grin that suddenly arose on his face.

"I tried to be gentle, you know?"

Oh.

"It's your first time, right?" he pulled out, viciously, till nothing but tips sat tightly in your cunt.

"But now that you're stretched, I can finally fuck you fully. Don't you agree?"

"W-wait–"

But before you could protest, his hips buckled quickly, brutally, stuffing you with a single move. It was too much, with his cocks almost in your lungs, pressing your belly, filling its little pouch. Breath suddenly stuck in your throat, fresh tears trickling down your cheeks, when the tongue of his belly licked your clit, filthy.

"That's it," he groaned, head lulled back as he took the full pleasure of your walls clamping on his cocks and cervix already swollen from his furious strokes. "That's the pussy I'll kill for, fucking hell," His gaze dropped at you – your pudgy lips, with a saliva dripping down its corners, crossed eyes, and blush spreading all over your chest. "I'm gonna move baby, and you'll take it like a good slut, hm? Gonna stuff you full with my cum till you'll feel it right here," he pressed the bulging pouch on your belly, touching his pulsing heads right through your skin.

And you truly couldn't do anything else than just nod, as he once again pulled out and sank deep with balls hitting your ass, setting the brutal pace, pumping pumping pumping your pussy with his fat griths, smiling slyly upon hearing blubbered moans pushing from your throat.

He truly was cruel, sucking on your clit relentlessly, licking your burning hole sweetly. One hand cupped your jaw, smearing the salty tears all over it, forcing you to look straight into his bloody eyes.

And nothing turned him on more than a gentle melody of your cries and this timid gaze, making his cocks tremble in excitement.

Nothing but filthy squelch squelch squelch was filling his chamber, with you bent in cruel mating press, ass up, slick dripping down your cunt, both cocks splitting you open.

"Such a filthy girl," he growled, thrusting faster, harder, crimson eyes taking in all of your frowns and mewls. "So fucking tight, my sweet cunt. Swallowing me up so obediently, like a good wife you'll be."

You took him inch by inch, every thrust, every shiver, your walls clamping on him feverishly, drenching his shafts in new portions of creamy cum. Moans became so high, he needed to shut you up with a kiss, messy and nasty, kissing, licking your lips, drinking the lovely tune of your voice with a tremble.

"M-my God it feels sooo good, mhmm," you mewled, trying to melt your hand with his fingers, but he gripped your wrists and placed them over your head.

And then you felt it – this warmth coiling in your belly, hitched breath, shortened moand and back arching slightly together with his brutal thrusts and obscene moans.

You were close. So, so close. Gripping him wildly, meeting his thrusts with a frenetic move of your hips, going insane from his lower mouth running mean circles on your clit. The pleasure was maddening, the chamber filled with nothing but filthy slapping of his cocks and his growls, going deep down your throat.

"Ngh, m-my God, I'm g-gonna," you babbled, his true name slipping up between your heavy breath and wet moans.

"I know, brat. Come on, cum for me, let me fill you up sweetly," you nodded, his lips turning in grin. "Such a good fucking girl, my slutty queen, so hungry for my cum, hm? Come on, let me fuck you full and pregnant, fill this heavy tits with milk," your eyes crossed, head lolled back, globs of spit trickled from your lips.

You screamed, convulsed, rolled your hips against his, feeling every tremble, every vein of his sizzling shafts. He pounded you like a madman, pressing his monstrous body against yours, cocks sinking balls deep, kissing your pounding womb with each thrust.

High moan escaped your throat as he worked his way inside you, moulding your walls just to fit his beastly size. Hips jerking, thighs shaking as you felt the warmth in your belly finally spill, clit pulsing under Sukuna's wet tongue, drenching his abdomen mouth with your juices, as it swallowed them hungrily with a final lick.

Sukuna finally stilled, fat heads pushed against your womb, hot cum spilling right inside as he shuddered and pressed your body. It was raw, rough, with a growl that bubbled in his throat and lips kissing your cheeks, trying to distract you from the sheer amount of white ropes he was filling you with, with pulsing cocks and meaty tongue circling your plump clit. "Take it, baby, take it all like my good slutty goddess." He clenched fingers on your jaw, crimson eyes staring right into your. "And now, brat, you'll serve obediently as a queen and will stay the fuck away from the throne."

The room felt messy, filthy, with only your faint cries and a raw hole stretched around his softening cocks. He laid down, pinkish hair on your chest, rutting slowly, just to keep your cunt warm and gluey.

He felt heavy, sweaty, all four arms caging your in a tight embrace, lips twirling around your perked nipples as he mumbled maddly under his nose. He definitely fucked your brains out, but it seemed like the God of War himself was, too, totally and completely down on his knees for this sweet little goddess.

"My God," you mumbled sweetly, fingers going through his pinkish strands. "It seems like you keep forgetting your weight. My breasts–"

Sukuna growled, turning you both swiftly, till your head hit his broad chest, cocks still deep inside your pulsing cunt.

"Better?" he asked, a hint of amusment coilining in his voice, with arms wrapping around your sweaty back.

You only nodded, splaying comfortably on his body.

And how shocked the council was when, on the fourth day, none of the contestants appeared before the Ennead.

All eight gods waited.

Silence stretched long across the marble court, heavy as a coming storm. Incense burned low. The sun climbed higher. Still, no sign of either of you.

Maat, ever watchful, sent a servant to check the chambers, fearing perhaps that a lesser goddess had already fallen prey to a brute’s temper. Whispers coiled between the pillars like snakes. Your mother sat rigid upon her golden throne, fingers crumpling the white silk of her robes, eyes dark with worry she tried, and failed, to conceal.

The servant returned pale, whispering to Maat's ear carefully.

Her face changed – annoyance, curiosity, shock!

"Oh?" Ra chuckled, seeing the deep breath escaping Maat's lips.

She cleared her throat, voice high and steady, as she announced the information.

"Her Goddess Horus and God Set decided to... share the rule over Egypt, by joining in wedlock. Moreover, it seems that Goddess Horus has been..." she stopped, as if gathering thoughts. "Tainted, and thus her status doesn't allow her to become the sole ruler. That's the final decision, and that's what council of Ennead should approve."

And after the small chaos caused by the fainting of Goddess Isis, they approved indeed.

I don't know why, but it was so hard to write! Btw, the thing with semen is real, and in real contendings of Horus and Set, they tried to mark themselves with their semen. At one point, Horus even cummed on a salad and tried to give it to Set.

taglist: @shadow-lady33 @dawnsoblivion @asuritam @cathwitheczema @xialoverr @spideyyeet @emeraldtwisttoad @vanlifeblondie @soebfnmnm @sukunamatat4 @katesatterfield @serenadesvt @annacandydream @waterisntwetanymoreiam @dswdo @hashahasha @mspinkpanties @powerhayakawaa @r0vena @beepyboopbop @indiewritesxoxo @crispyteabiscuits @bigggdickenergyyy @vensucxy @booiboo @valberryboos @myharulove @anothergojostan @re-tired-succubus @theirlgarfield @alicerhr @strawberryshortcakkitty @ambsbr @erenspersonalwh0re @winkiieee23 @waannty @suguruss1ut @getosurya @thaddeusthebee @icebearcucumber @anubisvoid2 @unxaid @hi-on-poteneuse @lilacwaffle @succunabus @1mlilith @iam-souless @unaarchives0 @peachyyfairyy@electrumoleum @hyori2 @lifesharddicksharder @buttclencher28

[yuemiu-deactivated20260315]

choso promising to only rub against you but ends up stuffing you full anyway !

choso had just dicked you down so good not even an hour ago, left you all messy and shaky on the sheets with his cum still leaking slow out of your overworked little pussy. you could barely move, legs trembling every time you tried to shift, sore in the best way possible. your whole body felt like jelly, clit still pulsing faintly from how hard he’d made you cum earlier, walls all puffy and sensitive inside.

and yet there he was again... hovering over you with those big pleading puppy eyes, cock already rock-hard and drooling a thick bead of precum against your thigh. he looked so desperate, cheeks flushed dark pink, lips parted like he was starving for you all over again.

“baby please,” he whined so soft that you almost melted right there. “just wanna feel you again… jus’ rub it on your pussy, i swear. won’t put it in. promise.”

his voice cracked a little at the end, hips already rocking tiny desperate thrusts against you like he couldn’t control himself. you knew he was lying to himself more than to you, but god— he sounded so needy, so sweet, biting his lip and gazing down at you like you were his whole world... how could you say no when he begged like that? especially when yourw still so full of him from earlier that the thought of taking him again made your clit throb even thru the ache, even if your poor pussy begged for a break.

“okay… only rubbing, cho,” you mumbled softly. “be good, yeah?”

he nodded frantically, leaning down to kiss your jaw, your cheek, your nose like he was trying to thank you with every gentle press of his lips. his hands shook a little as he nudged your thighs apart wider, still sensitive and sticky from his earlier load. he groaned low in his throat the second the fat head of his cock kissed your swollen folds, sliding up thru the mess of cum and slick with one slow drag that made your breath hitch.

“f-fuck— you’re so wet still… so warm,” he breathed against your mouth, hips stuttering already as he dragged himself back down, coating his length in the slick leaking out of you.

he kept it slow at first, just gliding his thick cock along your slit, the wet filthy sound of it echoing every time he nudged ur clit - loud squelches that made heat pool in your belly despite the soreness. you whimpered every time he caught your entrance but didn’t push in, thighs quivering around his waist as his tip bumped your clit so perfectly, sending little sparks through your nerves. his pre mixed with your slick and his earlier cum, making everything even messier, strings of it connecting his cock to yourr pussy lips each time he pulled back.

“feels so good, baby… your pussy’s sucking at me even when i’m not inside,” he panted, his voice wrecked and husky. he rolled his hips, his tip catching just right so you arched with a broken moan, nails scratching lightly at his arms.

but then his hips twitched harder.

and harder.

the head caught - just barely notched inside your fluttering hole and he froze, breathing ragged and uneven. you felt the stretch already, your walls clenching greedily around the intrusion even tho you were still so tender.

“cho— wait—” you tried to warn, hands pushing weakly at his chest, but you voice came out all breathy and weak.

“‘m sorry...” he choked out immediately, but he didn’t pull back. instead, he sank in one thick devastating inch, eyes fluttering shut like he was in heaven. your eyes rolled back, mouth falling open on a silent sob because fuck— he was still so big, stretching you open all over again when your walls were already puffy and raw from earlier. the burn mixing with pleasure, your pussy gushing more slick around him as he inched deeper.

“just—jus’ the tip, baby, please,” he begged against your lips even as his hips rolled forward again, feeding you another fat inch that made you gasp sharp. “you’re so tight… can’t— can’t think when ur squeezing me like that… fuck, your pussy’s so hot inside, all creamy from earlier…”

he was already bottoming out before he even finished the sentence, cock buried to the hilt in one long greedy slide that punched the air out of your lungs. you cried out sharp and high, nails digging into his broad shoulders, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress as he filled you completely, balls pressed snug against your ass. the mess from earlier squelched out around his base, his old cum pushed deeper or leaking out in thick globs, coating the sheets in sticky filth.

“cho— s’too much—!” you sobbed, tears pricking your eyes from the overwhelming stretch.

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry...” he babbled, kissing all over your face in frantic apology even as he started fucking you in deep punishing strokes that made the bed creak. “can’t help it— h-haahh... you feel too fucking good— pussy’s milking me so hard, baby… gripping me like you don’t wanna let go…”

he planted both feet firm on the mattress, knees bent high, hips angled so he could drill even deeper, folding you practically in half with your knees shoved up near your ears.

you were helpless like that, completely open for him while he pounded down into you like he was trying to carve himself into your guts, every thrust punching a wet squelch out of your stuffed cunt. creamy white rings of cum and slick frothed at the base of his cock, smearing messy across both of your thighs, dripping down your ass and pooling on the sheets in nasty puddles.

the sounds were so lewd.. sloppy wet slaps mixed with your broken cries and his guttural grunts, the air in the room thick with the scent of sex and sweat.

choso was so into it - grunting low and animalistic, sweat dripping off his forehead onto your collarbone, muttering the nastiest and sweetest things against your tear-streaked cheeks while his hips snapped brutal and relentless. his cock dragged thick and heavy along your walls, bullying your g-spot with every deep plunge, veins pulsing against your sensitive spots until your mind went mushy.

“taking me so well… my good girl… look at this pretty pussy swallowing every inch— fuck, you’re made for this cock, yeah? made to get fucked stupid like this… your walls are fluttering so tight around me, baby, like you’re begging for more even tho you’re sobbing…”

you could barely hear him over the wet slapping sounds and your own broken sobs, your body jolting with every harsh thrust. your brain felt melted, thoughts gone, nothing left except the delicious drag of him inside you, splitting you open over and over, the way his tip almost kissed your cervix deep enough to make stars burst behind your eyelids.

your hands scrabbled uselessly at his toned back, clinging to all that hard muscle while he used you like his personal fuck doll, pounding you so hard your tits bounced and your legs shook against him. slick squirted out around his cock on particularly rough thrusts, spraying fine and messy, making everything even sloppier as he beat your pussy up without mercy.

“cho... mnnghh s’big— too big—!” you hiccuped, tears spilling hot down your pretty face, body trembkling uncontrollably.

“i know baby, i know,” he cooed, kissing the corner of your mouth, licking at the salty tears with a soft hum. “but you take it so pretty… look so cute crying on my dick… gonna cum again for me? gonna let me fill u up twice tonight, hm? yoir pussy’s already so full, but i’ll stuff you even more, yeah? make you leak for days…”

you couldn’t even answer. just wailed when he ground deeper and stayed there, impaling you full of his dick, pulsing hot while bullying your g-spot until your whole body locked up and you came so hard you saw white, your pussy clenching vise-tight around him, gushing slick that soaked his balls and the sheets.

“shiiit— that’s a good girl... cumming for me like that— yeah baby... m’cumming too fuck—!” he followed right after with a choked groan, hips jerking erratic while he pumped another thick load into you, so much it overflowed immediately and spilling out in warm spurts around his shaft, dripping down your crack and ruining everything even more in hot sticky waves.

when he finally collapsed on top of you, still buried deep and twitching inside, both of you were a sweaty sticky mess, breathing heavily and tangled up.

he leaned down and pressed soft kisses to your throat, mumbling sorry’s and i love you’s like he hadn’t just railed you into next week, his hands stroking your sides gentle now.

you caught your breath for a minute, then patted his back weakly, voice hoarse.

“…sex ban. starting tomorrow.”

he froze. lifted his head. blinked those big round eyes at you all innocent.

“wait— wha—”

“yep. sex ban. no more pussy for a week.”

he pouted so dramatically you almost laughed despite how ruined you felt, lips trembling like a kicked puppy.

“…but baby—”

“no buts. you’re on timeout, big guy.”

he dropped his face into your neck with the saddest little whine, already trying to negotiate with tiny kisses along your skin, mumbling how he’d be good next time.

he was sooo fucked. literally and figuratively.

note. again... not proofread so sorry for the typos or any errors if there’s any !

🏷️ : @oyasumiaikko @vesserz @zeniiis

[purrtoru]

♡ sukuna introducing his girlfriend to his nephews !

yuji and choso have known sukuna has been seeing someone for the past few weeks, but what they don’t know is that today is the first time he’s bringing you over… he conveniently forgot to mention it.

you step in behind him, giving them a polite little wave. you look completely out of place next to someone as large and intimidating as him.

yuji freezes mid-run across the living room and choso straightens from the couch.

sukuna clicks his tongue after introducing you. “you better behave.”

you smile at them. “hi.. i’ve heard a lot about you two.”

yuji stares.

stares.

then slowly walks closer.

“…you’re uncle ‘kuna’s girlfriend?”

“yes i am.” you kneel to meet his eyes.

he squints at sukuna. then back at you.

“…you‘re too pretty.”

sukuna‘s eye twitches. “excuse you?”

“you are,” yuji insists, nodding seriously at you. “he‘s big and mean and he yells a lot.”

“yuji,” sukuna growls.

“and he snores!” the small boy continues, becoming more fidgety by the second. “and he steals my snacks even though he says he doesn’t like sweet things but he does, he ate my strawberry mochi and blamed choso—”

“i did not blame—”

“and one time he tripped over the porch step but told me not to tell anyone—”

sukuna grabs yuji by the back of his shirt before he can continue. “that‘s enough.”

you‘re covering your mouth, trying not to laugh.

yuji wiggles in sukuna‘s grip, still talking. “he also stays up late on the couch and thinks i don’t notice but he checks on us before he goes to bed.”

sukuna goes very still.

“…he does?” you ask gently.

sukuna sets yuji down slowly, jaw tight. “brat talks too much.”

yuji walks back over to you, completely unbothered. “you‘re really really pretty. like princess pretty.”

sukuna makes a strangled noise. “stop calling her—”

“and you smell nice,” yuji adds. “uncle ‘kuna smells like smoke.”

“i am right here.”

choso steps forward. “are you sure you‘re fine with him? you can totally tell us if he‘s too m—”

”eh? what’d you wanna say?” sukuna’s about to grab choso by the collar.

“very sure,” you snicker before anything happens.

yuji grabs your hand without hesitation. “okay. you can stay. but if he’s mean to you, tell me. i’ll bite him.”

“you will not bite me.”

yuji beams up at you. “he acts scary but he’s not that scary. only a little scary.”

choso nods. “he is moderately scary.”

“i am extremely scary,” sukuna snaps.

you grin. “i can see that.”

yuji gasps. “oh! and he practices smiling in the mirror sometimes—”

“I DO NOT.”

choso looks amused. “…he does.”

sukuna lunges. yuji shrieks and hides behind you instantly.

“protect me!” he cries dramatically. “you‘re too pretty to let me die!”

you‘re laughing so hard now you can barely stand.

sukuna stops inches away, staring at the two of you like he deeply regrets ever introducing you to them.

“…i’m leaving.”

“you live here,” choso replies.

sukuna pauses.

“…i’m moving out.”

yuji grabs your hand again. “so are you coming over tomorrow again?”

sukuna groans. “hell n—”

“i’d love to!” you interrupt him, as yuji’s already dragging you toward his room, excited to show you his entire dinosaur collection.

[pomegranate-nectar]

pairing: sukuna/(fem)reader. 

cw: established relationship, oral sex, double penetration, biting, edging, dom/sub undertones, sukuna's a touch rough

wordcount: 16k

summary: something calls to you in the night, soft, wet, and unmistakably wrong. the only thing worse than the whisper is sukuna’s absolute stillness beside you. whatever wants you in the moonlight is hungry, earnest, and persistent. and sukuna is in no mood to let it speak.

a/n: hehe, this is a little oneshot of an idea that got stuck in my head and refused to leave, manifesting in this!! it’s a little bit weird, made me laugh while writing, and also strangely tender… you’ll see, give it a chance. have fun!

You woke as though pulled upward by an invisible string.

No dream unraveled behind your eyelids, no memory of sound or movement clung to you. Only a sensation. Something thin, needling and wholly wrong. It lingered in the darkness. Your breath caught before you even understood why, your body bracing instinctively against a disturbance you could not yet name.

The room was silent.

The kind of silence particular to deep in the night, where even insects seemed reluctant to stir, and the wind passed over the roof tiles with the gentlest of breaths. The lamp had long since burned out. The screens let in only the faintest wash of moonlight, enough to shape the room into softened outlines.

But that feeling… that wrongness had already caged itself inside your ribs.

You lay still for a moment, staring into the dark, trying to decide whether you had dreamed the sound of your own name.

It had felt too close.

Too low.

Too deliberate.

Almost as if spoken against you.

The thought made your skin prickle. You pushed yourself upright in one sudden jerk, breath shallow, pulse flicking hard beneath your skin.

The futon rustled, but only on your side. Sukuna, notoriously impossible to wake unless violence or desire was involved, did not so much as shift. He slept exactly as he existed. Total, unyielding, and profoundly arrogant about it. Broad shoulders half-exposed, pink hair falling against the rolled pillow, his breathing long and even, as if the world itself dared not intrude upon his rest.

You stared at him for a moment, irrationally irritated that he could sleep through whatever had just roused you. Typical. Annoying.

You turned your attention outward, letting your eyes adjust to the faint shimmer of silver of moonlight. There was little to look at. Sukuna’s room was absurdly plain, almost offensively so. A lacquered chest. A stand for his weapons. A low table pushed to the side. Tatami. Blank walls. No scrolls. No screens. No decoration of any kind.

Except the one thing you had added.

A single vase you had quietly placed near the window days ago, filled with chrysanthemums you’d arranged because you could no longer tolerate the oppressive plainness. The flowers stood pale and gentle in the dark, a strangely stubborn spot of softness in a room shaped by brutality.

Your gaze flicked over them now, checking whether they had shifted. As if flowers could move of their own will.

Still the wrongness lingered.

Your name… had it been your name? Or the phantom of it? You swallowed, the sound too loud in the still room.

You listened.

Nothing.

And then, so faint you almost doubted it–

“…nn–…”

Your heart jumped into your throat.

You turned sharply toward the screens. A shadow could have passed by, someone moving through the corridor, someone whispering your name through the thin paper walls. But the screens remained blank, undisturbed.

You stepped quietly off the futon.

The cool tatami pressed beneath your feet, grounding you even as your pulse kicked faster. You padded across the room, sliding one palm across the smooth frame of the door, listening with your whole body.

Silence again.

You slid the door open a crack.

The corridor beyond was empty, lit only by distant moonlight seeping in from the veranda. No servants awake, no stray curse that had managed to wander too close,  nothing that justified the way your skin stood on end.

You closed the door again.

Perhaps it had been a dream. A trick of still being half-asleep. The mind sometimes spoke in borrowed voices. It was possible, you reasoned, that you were being foolish. But as soon as you turned back toward the futon, the sensation returned. A weight behind your spine, a wrongness that pressed cold fingers at the nape of your neck.

As though something watched you.

You moved more slowly now. Deliberately. Trying not to wake Sukuna, though a part of you bristled with the urge to do exactly that. Inconvenient as he was, his presence meant safety of a particularly violent nature.

Your eyes scanned the room again.

Every shadowed corner. 

Nothing. Nothing at all.

You exhaled shakily.

And then–

“…yo–…”

The voice was closer this time.

Close enough that your breath froze mid-step, a small gasp caught painfully in your throat. Close enough that you felt rather than heard the vibration of it, deep, guttural, as though forced through a throat that didn’t quite know how to shape human language.

You went rigid.

Slowly, mechanically, you turned your head toward Sukuna.

He hadn’t moved.

But the blanket draped over his abdomen… shifted. Just barely. A subtle swell beneath the fabric, rising and falling out of rhythm with his breathing.

Your blood ran cold.

Surely not.

Surely, surely not that.

You stepped closer. Knees sinking into the futon. One hand hovering over the blanket, uncertain whether to touch it or run from the room entirely. You swallowed hard, heart pounding painfully against your ribs.

Your name again. 

Mangled. Wet. Wrong.

It was coming from under the blanket.

You froze.

You braced yourself for horror.

Instead, when you lifted the blanket, what you found was…

Well.

Horrifying, yes, but in a familiar sort of way. A monstrosity you had grown strangely accustomed to. Maybe even somewhat fond of. 

The stomach mouth, that strange thing that usually muttered incantations, trembled beneath the moonlight as though expending tremendous effort simply to exist. Sharp teeth glinted faintly, catching the thin wash of silver creeping through the screens. Its movements were small, pitifully laboured, like a creature too exhausted to snarl.

And then it made a sound.

Not a chant. Not a curse.

A strangled, wet syllable that approximated something you should never have heard from it.

Your name.

Or some distorted version of it.

Your jaw fell slack. 

Not in fear, not even in disgust, but in utter bewilderment. The wrongness that had chased you awake did not dissipate. It simply reconfigured itself into something surreal, something that left you staring without breath or sense.

You watched the mouth quiver and strain, its entire form convulsing with the effort of shaping a sound it had no right to produce. It opened wider, trembling, then forced out another attempt. Still mangled, still wet, but undeniably closer to your name.

You blinked once, slow and incredulous.

A small breath escaped you. A quiet, shocked laugh you couldn’t quite contain. 

The sound felt absurd in the stillness of the room, but you couldn’t help it. There was something almost… touching about how hard the thing was trying. Hideously sincere. Too earnest. The determined tremble of its tongue as it strained closer and closer to the correct vowel, tugged the corner of your mouth upward before you could stop yourself.

You leaned in without thinking.

The stomach mouth shuddered again, a pitiful tremor running through it as it rasped out yet another syllable. 

This time unmistakably shaped around you. Your heart gave an undignified flutter. Gods help you, but you were flattered. Somehow, impossibly, flattered. Not terrified. Not repelled. Just profoundly stunned by the effort it was making for your sake.

“That’s… not normal,” you whispered under your breath, not sure whether you meant it as a statement or an accusation.

The mouth snapped weakly at the air, as though begging you to keep watching. 

You did. 

How could you not? It's dedication was so absurd it looped back around into something almost sweet. Your lips curved further, the smile blooming helplessly across your face. 

“You’re trying,” you murmured, unable to stop yourself. The words left you warm, bewildered, and more charmed than anyone should ever be by a cursed manifestation on their lover’s body.

You didn’t cover it again. 

You didn’t retreat. 

You simply stared, kneeling there beside Sukuna’s sleeping form, watching the bizarre little creature make valiant attempts at speaking to you, its teeth grinding softly in its concentrated desperation.

You felt suspended between laughter and disbelief, as though you had slipped sideways out of the real world and into a dream. It was ridiculous, profoundly so, and yet the longer you watched, the more the absurdity warmed into something strangely pleasant.

Your gaze flickered upward toward Sukuna. His sleeping face remained utterly untroubled, carved in its usual unimpressed lines even in unconsciousness, completely unaware that somewhere beneath his ribcage a small rebellion was underway. A breath of incredulous amusement escaped you, and this time you didn’t bother to swallow it.

For someone so self-possessed, so contemptuously in control of every inch of his being, it was delicious to witness his own body betraying him in such a spectacularly undignified fashion. 

You let the thought linger, a quiet, wicked pleasure curling in your chest. Oh, how he would absolutely loathe this. How deeply, how immediately, how violently offended he would be to learn that a part of him had been beseeching you in the dark without his knowledge, his permission. 

And perhaps that was precisely why you didn’t wake him yet.

The stomach mouth gaped again, wider this time, and its next attempt at your name was astonishingly close. 

Close enough that your eyebrows lifted on their own, your lips parting in a breath of soft, startled admiration. The mouth sensed its success somehow. It curled at the edges, an unnatural grin that split its lips in a triumphant little arc. Pride, if such a thing could live in it, radiated from it in trembling waves.

An involuntary warmth bloomed in your chest. Against all reason, all propriety, you felt absurdly proud of it.

“Look at you,” you murmured under your breath. 

You reached out before you could second-guess yourself, your hand moving with a small, cautious grace. Your thumb skimmed along the curve of its bottom lip, soft beneath your touch, startlingly warm. 

The mouth shivered, tilting toward your touch like an animal seeking affection. You withdrew only to see it strain eagerly again, as though determined to earn more.

It tried once more.

Then again.

Your name, almost whole now, raw, imperfect, yet so achingly earnest that it softened something deep inside you.

You smiled. 

Slowly. Deeply. Smugly. 

That did it. The moment the syllables finally knit themselves into something recognisable, something fully, undeniably you, a wave of triumph rolled through you, bright and wicked. You sat back on your heels, savouring it. 

Sukuna, who viewed tenderness as a nuisance, who would sooner set a village on fire than openly admit want, had somehow let this happen. His own body voicing what he would never say aloud. That’s what he gets. It was deserved.

It was too perfect.

Only when your satisfaction reached a comfortable fullness did you finally turn your attention to waking him. You leaned forward, studying the lines of his face with an indulgent, private amusement. He slept as though nothing within or without him dared misbehave.

If only he knew.

Your hand drifted to his shoulder. You paused a moment, savouring the last heartbeat of quiet, the last moment when this knowledge belonged only to you, before giving him a gentle shake.

“Sukuna,” you whispered, voice threaded with a soft, victorious lilt he would absolutely detect the moment he opened his eyes. “You should wake. Truly.”

He didn’t stir.

You leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin.

“Sukuna,” you murmured, unable to stop the small smile curling in your voice, “your body has something to tell me.”

And that, the subtle mockery in your voice, was enough to drag him from sleep with immediate, offended awareness.

Sukuna woke the way storms arrived over distant mountains. Abruptly, with a palpable shift in the air, as if his consciousness slammed back into his body in one solid motion. All four eyes snapped open, sharp even in the low glow of moonlight. 

His irritation was immediate. Tangible. Alive.

He exhaled once, a short, deep sound of displeasure. “What,” he muttered, voice thick with the heavy impatience of someone who despised being woken for anything short of bloodshed.

He pushed himself slightly upright, and the movement was enough for the already-loosened blanket to pool around his hips, leaving the wide planes of his chest bare, tattoos shifting like living shadows. The stomach mouth glistened quietly on his abdomen, its teeth faintly catching the dim silver light. 

He didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. You, on the other hand, noticed everything.

You sat back on your heels, hands folded primly in your lap, your expression bright in a way that instantly sharpened his suspicion. Nothing put him on edge quite like waking to find you smug. 

His gaze narrowed, flickering over your face as though searching for the source of your insolence. There was a softness to the moonlight on your skin, an unmistakable satisfaction in the gentle curve of your mouth.

“You look pleased,” he said flatly, already disliking whatever that implied.

You tilted your head, the picture of composed innocence. “Do I?”

He stared.

You were not subtle. You never had been. Not when you were enjoying yourself. He could read the satisfaction in you as plainly as he read the sky before a storm. Something had amused you. Something had delighted you. Something he did not know about.

And that, more than being woken, agitated him.

His eyes slanted toward the room, scanning the shadows. “What happened,” he demanded, tone low with coiled irritation. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Your smile only softened further, which did nothing to soothe him. If anything, it made his jaw tighten, the muscles in his shoulders coiling. You glanced down at him with an expression so serene it was almost condescending.

“Perhaps,” you said lightly, “you have something you’d like to tell me.”

The second the words left your mouth, Sukuna went completely still.

“What,” he said again, slower, more dangerous, “is that supposed to mean?”

Your lashes dipped in a feigned demureness. “Oh? Nothing. I simply thought–”

“No,” he snapped, sitting up slightly. “Say it.”

You pressed your lips together in a soft, infuriating little smile that was not the least bit helpful to his temper. The room felt smaller now, the air dense with his rising irritation and your effortless composure. You lifted your chin slightly, savouring the advantage you held. If only for a fleeting, delicious moment.

“Sukuna,” you said with gentle patience, “are you sure there isn’t something–”

A noise interrupted you.

A wet, trembling gurgle. Soft, earnest, unmistakable.

Sukuna stilled.

The sound came again, louder this time, a valiant attempt at speech rising from his own traitorous body.

Your name.

Or a nearly perfect effort at it.

Slow, dragging, struggling through a throat that should never have known how to shape it.

Sukuna’s eyes widened, not in fear or confusion, but in pure, unfiltered offense. His face went taut with disbelief, muscles locking as though struck. Wholly like a man blindsided by the greatest betrayal of his own flesh.

You watched his expression unravel with exquisite satisfaction.

You did not hide your smile. You didn’t even try. The warmth of triumph spread through you like a flame catching kindling, soaking into every small line of your face. You let him see it. You let him absorb the depth of your amusement.

He turned his glare on you, slow and disbelieving, as if silently demanding that you deny what he had just heard.

You didn’t.

The mouth gurgled again with pitiful enthusiasm.

And you… simply beamed.

Sukuna did not lurch.

He didn’t snarl. He didn’t even breathe differently.

To anyone else, he would have looked perfectly unchanged. A mountain carved from disdain, eternally unbothered. But you knew him. You knew every silent flicker his body betrayed, the minute shifts beneath the armor of his composure.

And you saw everything.

The first sign was the way his shoulders drew back by a fraction, a tightening so small it barely stirred the bedding. A bracing. As though he were holding himself against something he refused to acknowledge. Then his jaw flexed, not visibly, but in the slightest hardening at the hinge, a controlled clench meant to conceal the spike of irritation prickling under his skin.

The mouth gurgled again. Your name, almost perfect now.

He didn’t look down.

Of course he didn’t.

Looking would be an admission.

Instead, his gaze fixed straight ahead, sharp and strangely detached, like a man staring into the distance to avoid witnessing his own disgrace.

You had to fight the laugh rising in your throat.

He spoke at last, his voice low and deceptively even. “You are misinterpreting something.”

The lie was almost endearing.

You watched him with warm, indulgent fascination, your smile softening into something far gentler than mockery. But of course, he mistook the gentleness for condescension. You saw the faintest twitch of displeasure beneath his eye, so small only you would have caught it.

“Misinterpreting what?” you asked, voice calm, lightly coaxing.

Another wet syllable bubbled up. This time, the mouth sounded almost proud.

A warm, wicked delight spread through you like heat. Because the mouth chose that exact moment to open once more, wide, earnest, eager, and utter a clearer, more determined version of your name.

You leaned forward, letting your fingers ghost near but not yet touching its lips. It responded instantly, teeth chattering together in anticipation, trembling as if reaching for your attention.

Sukuna’s fingers curled against the tatami.

You smiled.

“That was very well done,” you murmured, your voice warm with an affection you didn’t bother to conceal.

The mouth quivered, delighted.

And Sukuna’s jaw flexed again, barely, but unmistakably.

You let your thumb trail gently along the curve of the mouth, and it leaned into the touch so eagerly it was almost pitiful. Your eyes flicked upward just in time to see the faintest twitch crease the skin beside Sukuna’s eye, offense and murderous restraint all simmering beneath a surface he refused to let crack.

Still, he said nothing.

He finally turned his gaze on you, and the look he gave you held a promise sharp enough to cut. A slow, deliberate retaliation building beneath his stillness.

“You find this amusing,” he said, voice smooth and cold enough to sting.

You met his eyes with serene triumph.

“Utterly.”

The stomach mouth repeated your name again, perfectly, joyfully, unforgivably.

A tiny vein pulsed at Sukuna’s temple.

It was the closest thing to losing composure he would allow.

And it thrilled you.

His gaze held yours for a long, thinning breath, one of those silences that could have tipped either toward violence or desire, indistinguishable until the last possible moment. The moonlight caught the stern angles of his face, sharpening every line of him into something cold and wrathful. Anyone else might have mistaken it for calm. You knew better. Beneath that stillness, something coiled tight, gathering itself like a drawn bowstring.

You had won this round, and he knew it.

And Sukuna did not like to lose.

He didn’t move at first. That was always the warning. The absence of reaction. His eyes lowered just slightly, dragging down your form, slow and assessing, the way a predator might trace the shape of a creature it fully intended to pounce on but found it more gratifying to wait… and let it realise.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before, an almost conversational murmur that sent a warm ripple down your spine. “Enjoy it while you can.”

He didn’t lunge. He didn’t crowd you. He didn’t need to. He simply leaned forward by an inch, just enough for the space between you to tighten, just enough that you could feel the pressure of his attention like a hand closing around your throat. It was a quiet, deliberate reminder of exactly what he was capable of when he decided to stop indulging your games.

You held your ground, smiling.

That irritated him further. You saw it in the faint narrowing of his eyes, the ghost of a muscle contracting at his brow. His hand slid across the tatami, slow and silent, until his fingers brushed your knee. Not a caress. An assertion. A touch that said you’d gone too far. A touch that said he fully intended to correct you.

The stomach mouth interrupted.

Sukuna stiffened.

It was infinitesimal. A single, precise tightening across his abdomen, barely perceptible unless you were searching for it. But you caught it. You always caught it. And the sheer, profound offense radiating from him nearly made you laugh aloud.

You tilted your head, amused. “I think,” you said lightly, “it likes me.”

His eyes opened slowly, that flat, dark gaze you recognised as the sharpened edge of his restraint.

“Do not,” he said quietly, “encourage it.”

You pretended to consider this. Then you leaned forward, posture graceful, expression softening into something dangerously close to fondness. His gaze followed you in a low, lethal arc. He didn’t stop you. Not when your fingers hovered over the curve of the mouth, not when the breath of your touch brushed its trembling lips, not even when you finally made contact.

The reaction was instantaneous.

The mouth quivered beneath your fingertips, its lips twitching with a strange, eager hum. The teeth ground together softly, almost rhythmically, as though preparing themselves for another attempt at calling to you. 

And then, in a gesture so devoted it stole the breath from your lungs, the tongue slid upward in a warm, wet sweep, dragging itself along the pad of your thumb with a fervor that left no room for misinterpretation. It was worship, in its own monstrous way, shameless, earnest, and shockingly affectionate.

You froze.

Sukuna did not.

His hand moved with the kind of decisive precision that made even air seem to recoil. With a swift, silent motion, his palm came down over the mouth, smothering it with a force that vibrated through his entire body. 

His jaw was locked, carved into a hard, unyielding line of fury. Every muscle from his shoulders to his abdomen coiled in perfect restraint, his posture rigid enough to suggest he was seconds away from obliterating the offending appendage entirely.

The mouth, trapped beneath his hand, made a sound.

Not a curse.

Not a chant.

But a trembling, muffled whine, soft and wounded, vibrating against his palm like a distressed animal struggling to break free.

Sukuna’s eyes slid shut, slow and deliberate, as though he were counting the heartbeats between calm and utter annihilation. You watched the faint rise of his chest, the careful, measured breath he forced past clenched teeth. He was mastering himself, or attempting to, and the effort was monumental.

A warm, startled breath of laughter escaped your lips before you could swallow it, a soft burst of incredulous delight that slipped effortlessly into the quiet room. You pressed your hand over your mouth, attempting to cage the trembling amusement threatening to spill out of you, but it was useless. 

The absurdity of the moment swelled inside you like a rising tide. 

The stomach mouth desperately trying to lick you, Sukuna holding it down in silent, simmering anger, and the faint, pitiful whine echoing through the stillness of the night. You would never have believed it if anyone else had described such a scene. And yet here you were, kneeling beside the most fearsome man of the era while a part of him begged for your attention.

Your gaze returned to Sukuna, and you found his eyes already on you.

He didn’t speak. His breath barely moved. But beneath all that rigid control, beneath the ire sharpening his expression and the cold dignity bracing his spine, you saw it. The subtle fissure spreading through the mask of composure he wore so ruthlessly. It wasn’t anger that cracked it, nor frustration, nor even humiliation. It was something quieter, deeper, something that came from the impossibility of denying what had just been witnessed.

A hairline fracture across his restraint.

The smallest slip.

A moment of unmistakable, reluctant humanity.

And gods, it thrilled you.

You held his gaze for a moment longer, savouring the quiet crack in his mask, the kind of shift only someone who shared a bed with him could understand. You felt the fluttering thrill of it settle low in your belly, warm and alive. And that warmth, that reckless delight, pulled you forward before you even fully registered the movement.

You shifted closer.

Sukuna’s eyes tracked the motion immediately, his attention sharpening with a precision that made your skin hum. His hand still clamped over the mouth, muscles taut with barely constrained irritation, but the rest of him remained the picture of composure, shoulders broad, posture rigid, expression carved from cool, disdain. 

Only his gaze betrayed him, following you with the slow, assessing sweep of a man who already understood exactly where your boldness was headed.

“That is enough,” he warned, voice low and even, but the edge beneath it was unmistakable.

You didn’t stop.

Instead, you slipped a knee across the tatami, letting your fingers trail lightly along the blanket pooled at his hips. Sukuna’s breath didn’t change, but something in the air did. A faint tightening, a pressure, as if the space between you had suddenly become electrified. He said nothing, watching you with that steady, unblinking stare that was equal parts threat and invitation.

You climbed into his lap slowly, deliberately, placing your weight over his thighs with the grace of someone who knew exactly how dangerous this was and wanted it anyway. Your grin, soft and satisfied, only deepened as you settled against him.

His free hand slid up your waist in a single, controlled motion, fingers splaying across your side in a grip that was neither gentle nor rough, simply possessive. A reminder of what you were provoking. A reminder of what you would receive in return.

“Smug little thing,” he murmured, the words almost tender in their contempt.

You arched a brow. “Is that resentment I hear?”

A muscle in his cheek twitched.

You moved your hands up his chest slowly, purposefully, your fingertips brushing the warm skin just above where his other hand pinned the mouth to silence. You felt the tension rumbling through him, the quiet tremor of restraint that only made your smile widen.

“Careful,” he said softly. “You’re forgetting who you’re teasing.”

You leaned in, letting your lips hover near his jaw, close enough that your breath ghosted along his skin. “No,” you whispered. “I’m perfectly aware.”

The stomach mouth strained beneath his palm, whimpering pathetically, a wet, desperate sound that shattered the tension with all the subtlety of a dropped bowl. You glanced down, unable to help the laugh that bubbled up, bright and startled, as it tried to push against Sukuna’s hand, reaching for you in its own desperate need.

Sukuna didn’t look down, wouldn’t look down, but you felt the controlled fury rippling through him, a quiet, vibrating intensity that was almost intoxicating. His grip on your waist tightened, drawing you closer with a force that spoke more clearly than any threat.

“It wants attention,” you whispered, amused.

“It will not get it,” he replied, voice sharp.

But the mouth tried again anyway, muffled but determined, calling your name with a garbled, longing sound that defied all logic and dignity.

And you, reckless, delighted, already lost to the thrill of it, simply reached up and cupped Sukuna’s jaw with gentle, mocking affection.

“Oh, don’t be jealous,” you murmured. “At least someone here is willing to admit they like me.”

His composure cracked then. Not in any dramatic way, but in a single, subtle shift of his breath, a quiet exhale that trembled with tension.

His eyes darkened.

His hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, fingers pressing into you with slow, decisive intent.

You smiled. Soft, infuriating, utterly unafraid.

Exactly where you wanted to be.

You tilted your head, letting your thumb trace the sharp line of his jaw, your touch feather-light against the heat of his skin. The air between you thrummed, thick with the promise of what you'd stirred, and you reveled in it. The way his eyes narrowed, pupils dilating like a beast scenting blood.

“Jealous,” he repeated, the word spoken so low that it vibrated through his chest and into yours. 

His upper hand at your back dug in deeper, nails grazing just enough to prickle, while his lower arm snaked around your thigh, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his body. “You think this thing speaks for me?”

But even as he spoke, the mouth beneath his palm squirmed, pushing up with a muffled, desperate whine that sounded like a garbled twist of your name, wet and pleading, cutting through the tension. You couldn't stifle the bubble of laughter that rose in your throat.

“See? It's begging,” you teased, leaning in to nip at the edge of his lower lip. 

You rocked your hips against him, slowly, just to confirm the way both his cocks twitched in response, one thick length pressing insistently against your inner thigh through the thin barrier of fabric. Perfect. 

“Admit it. You've been craving me. Starving for this,” your hand slipped lower, fingers brushing the edge of the blanket, teasing the hem as you met his glare with a wicked grin. “And now even you can't lie about it.”

His eyes narrowed to slits, a flicker of genuine annoyance flashing across his face, jaw clenching, nostrils flaring, as his upper hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to expose the column of your throat. 

“Craving you?” He scoffed, the sound rough and disbelieving, but his grip betrayed him, thumb stroking the pulse point at your neck with a possessiveness that belied the denial. “I could have any offering I desire. You are merely convenient.”

The stomach mouth chose that moment to rebel harder, thrusting against his palm with a needy groan, the vibration humming through his abdomen and into you where you straddled him. 

A slick, warm tongue darted out from under the edge of his hand, sneaking a quick, desperate lick along the side of your wrist where it rested near his side. It was sloppy, eager, tasting your skin like a starved beast finally catching a scent, and the sheer ridiculousness of it made you bite back your amusement. 

You gasped through the mirth, twisting your wrist just enough to let the tongue lap again, the wet heat sending an unexpected shiver up your arm. 

“Convenient? That's why it's drooling for me? Why it's moaning my name like a prayer?” You leaned in to whisper against his ear, “Come on, say it. You're just as desperate as it is.”

His scoff held in the air like smoke, thick and dismissive, but the way his thumb lingered at your throat, pressing just enough to feel your heartbeat quicken, told a different story. 

You pulled back slightly, your breath mingling with his, eyes locked on those crimson slits that burned with feigned nonchalance. The vibration from his abdomen still thrummed against you, a constant, insistent reminder of the war raging beneath his skin. You straightened in his lap, feeling the heat of his lengths shift beneath you. 

Your hands moved to the ties of your robes, fingers working the knot with deliberate slowness, each tug pulling the silk a fraction looser. The fabric whispered as it parted, revealing the curve of your shoulder first, then the swell of your breast, the cool air kissing your skin and raising faint goosebumps.

Sukuna's gaze flicked downward for the barest instant, gone so fast you might have imagined it, but his jaw tightened. His upper arms remained still, one hand still clamped over the stomach mouth, the other resting possessively at your waist without squeezing, without claiming. As if he could will himself to boredom. 

"Indifferent to this?" you murmured, your voice a low challenge as you shrugged one sleeve down your arm, letting the robe pool at your elbows. 

Your nipples hardened in the open air, pulse racing under his unblinking stare, but you held his eyes, daring him to look away or pretend it stirred nothing. The stomach mouth rebelled with a muffled groan, pushing harder against his palm.

You ignored it for now, kept your focus on him, on the way his breath deepened ever so slightly. The robe slipped further, baring your torso completely now, the fabric bunching at your hips as you arched your back subtly, presenting yourself without a plea. No hands reached for him. Yours stayed on the ties, toying with them idly, while his four limbs held their ground, caging, but not closing in.

"Go on, then," you pressed, a smirk curling your lips as you rocked your hips once, a feather-light pressure against his cocks that made them pulse under the blanket. 

"Tell me I'm just a convenience. That this," you gestured vaguely to your exposed skin, heat creeping up your neck from the thrill of the standoff, "changes nothing. Your little friend seems to disagree, though. Listen to it whine."

The mouth let out a desperate high pitch sound, the noise vibrating through him like a string plucked too tight, his abdomen flexing involuntarily beneath you. His lower hands twitched, one curling into a loose fist at his side, the other hovering near your thigh without touching. As if fighting the urge to shatter the fragile tension. But his face stayed a mask of arrogance, eyes narrowing in what could pass for disdain, even as the air grew heavier with your arousal and his restrained fury.

You leaned forward again, close enough that your breasts brushed the edge of his chest, the contact electric but fleeting.

"Admit it," you whispered, breath ghosting his lips. "You're fighting it. But we both know you'd devour me if you let go." 

His eyes narrowed, the glare sharp enough to cut through the haze of tension thickening the air between you. A low growl rumbled from his chest, not from the mouth below but from his own throat, laced with irritation that finally cracked his facade. 

"Insolent," he snapped, the word biting like a whip. 

His upper hand at your waist finally tightening, not to pull you closer, but to hold you still, fingers digging into your hip with just enough pressure to sting without bruising. 

The other upper arm shifted, pressing his palm harder over the stomach mouth, smothering its muffled whines into frustrated vibrations that buzzed against your inner thighs. You felt the tongue retract with a wet, reluctant slurp and a thrill shot through you at the shared punishment. 

But Sukuna wasn't done. His lower hands moved with deliberate slowness, one sliding up your bare thigh, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin just shy of where your arousal pooled hottest, tracing lazy circles that teased without dipping in, without granting relief.  The other mirrored  it on your opposite side, nails scraping lightly, sending shivers racing across your exposed skin, but stopping short every time, hovering like a threat.

"You think this game amuses me?" he asked, voice dropping to a deep murmur that vibrated through his body and into yours. 

His glare pinned you in place, unyielding, as he rocked his hips upward once, deliberate, controlled, pressing the firmness of his cocks against your core through the thin barrier of fabric, letting you feel their heat, their insistent throb, before stilling again. No friction, no grind, just the promise of what he withheld. 

"That mouth hungers like a fool, and you stoke it, daring me to indulge. But I'll make you both wait. Squirm for it. Let that ache build until you're dripping."

The stomach mouth rebelled beneath his hand, thrusting weakly, a garbled whine escaping in a pathetic hum that made his abdomen tense. He punished it with a firmer press, his fingers splaying wide to trap it completely, the vibration turning into a dull, torturous pulse that you felt echoing in your own core. 

Your breath hitched as his teasing touches continued, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts now, circling your hardened nipples without pinching, without soothing the ache pulsing through you. Close enough to make you arch involuntarily, but he held you firm, dragging out the torment with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.

He dragged his nails down your sides then, from ribs to hips, the scrape light but insistent, leaving faint red trails that burned pleasantly. His cocks twitched beneath you, but he denied any motion, overcompensating with the utmost control, holding you perched on the edge, bodies aligned but untouched where it mattered most.

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, unbidden but impossible to suppress as you met his glare head-on, the crimson intensity of it only fueling the spark of triumph in your chest. You got to him, cracked that composure, even if just a sliver, and the knowledge settled warm and satisfying in your gut, like a secret victory amid the torment. 

Leaning back slightly in his unyielding grip, you let your voice drop to that dry, deadpan drawl, casual as if commenting on the weather. "Really? All this over a little fun?" 

The words hung light, scoffing undertone clear, your eyes flicking down to where his hand still smothered the stomach mouth's futile squirms before lifting back to his face, challenging without heat.

You shifted your hips just enough to brush against the rigid heat of his cocks, a deliberate tease masked as adjustment, but your tone stayed even, playful in its nonchalance. Like you weren't aching, like his threats didn't coil tension tighter in your core. 

"We both know what you want. Why drag it out?" It was unhelpful, pointed, the scoff escaping as a soft huff through your nose, your free hand trailing idly along his arm, fingers light and uncaring, as if his control meant nothing.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed further, the snap in his posture sharpening as he caught the ploy immediately. The way you played it cool to sidestep the prolonged agony, your deadpan mask a deliberate prod under his skin. 

A low, irritated rumble built in his throat, his upper hand at your hip twisting just enough to pin you harder, denying the subtle grind you'd attempted.

"Clever," he said, voice laced with mean amusement, his lower fingers resuming their torturous graze along your inner thighs, dipping closer now but still skirting where you needed him, letting the pads of his thumbs press feather-light against the swollen edges without parting them. 

"Acting like this doesn't burn you alive." He circled once, agonisingly slow, the heat of his touch promising more but withdrawing, leaving you clenching around nothing.

His other lower hand slid up to cup your breast fully now, thumb rolling over your nipple in a firm, unyielding stroke that sent jolts straight to your core. "You think scoffing will rush me? Make me forget how you teased and laughed earlier? No. You'll take this torment. Both of you.”

The playful glint in your eyes faltered just a fraction, the deadpan facade thinning as reality sank in… Sukuna's patience stretched far further than yours. You didn’t think you could handle it. Not tonight. Gods, he was impossible. 

A heat crept into your cheeks, your scoff softening into something almost apologetic as you shifted under his pinning hold, hips stilling their subtle plea. 

"Okay, fine," you murmured, voice dropping the dry edge for a placating lilt, fingers curling lightly against his arm in a tentative soothe. "No more games. Just... get on with it." 

The words came out quieter, less challenging, your gaze flicking away for a beat before snapping back, sheepish but still laced with that core of boldness, like you were testing if mercy might come without full surrender.

Sukuna's expression didn't shift, his crimson stare boring into you with unimpressed disdain, the rumble in his chest vibrating through where you pressed against him. 

"Placating me now?" he asked, voice thick with sarcasm, his hips rolling once more in that minimal grind, that made your breath hitch. "As if your little act fools anyone. You crack so easily."

The stomach mouth strained again, a muffled, desperate keen filtering through his fingers, and he clamped down harder, muscles flexing in visible irritation, his abs rippling against your belly. 

But his eyes stayed locked on yours, amusement sharpening the edges of his scowl as he watched the mask slip further, your breath stuttering, thighs quivering under the feather-light strokes that skirted your entrance, dipping in the barest tip of a finger before pulling away, leaving you clenching on emptiness.

"Beg properly," he commanded, his free upper hand tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, exposing your throat where your pulse raced. "Or I'll make this last until dawn." 

The threat hung heavy, his patience a weapon he wielded without mercy, your plea only stoking the fire in his gaze.

Your eyes narrowed into a glare, the brief spark of triumph curdling into something bitter as Sukuna's unyielding gaze stripped away the illusion of control. A sigh escaped your lips, sharp and frustrated, your body tensing under his four-armed restraint as annoyance bubbled up. 

You'd savoured that one fleeting moment of his unraveling, and now it slipped away like sand.

Sulking, you twisted your head slightly in his grip, jaw set as you muttered under your breath, “Figures you'd drag this out just to spite me.”

The words came out petulant, laced with the sting of defeat, your thighs clenching involuntarily around the teasing press of his cocks, the heat of them mocking your impatience.

Sukuna's lips curled in a predatory smirk, his upper hands unmoving, one fisted in your hair, the other splayed across his abdomen to silence the stomach mouth's persistent, muffled whimpers, while his lower pair continued their torment. 

Fingers circling your entrance without entering, the pad of one dipping shallowly into your wetness before withdrawing, slick and deliberate, the other hand kneading your ass cheek with just enough force to spread you wider, exposing you to the air and his unrelenting stare. 

“Spite?” he echoed, voice a low, rumbling taunt that vibrated through his chest into yours, his breath fanning hot over your exposed neck. “This is mercy, little tease. You've earned every second of the wait.”

Your huff turned into a resigned exhale, the sulk deepening as you realised resistance only prolonged the agony, your core already aching a pathetic amount. Fine. If he wanted begging, you'd give it. On your terms, stripped of any flourish. 

“Please,” you said, the word dropping like a stone, devoid of inflection, eyes locked on his with that lingering glare. “Fuck me. Now.” It was dry, mechanical almost, your tone the epitome of flattened defiance. 

Sukuna's eyes gleamed with a dark amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk that bordered on cruel delight, his gaze raking over your defiant expression, savouring every bit of it. 

He let out a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated through his frame, his upper hands loosening just enough to let you feel the shift in power, back in his grasp, where it belonged. 

“Try harder,” he drawled, voice thick with mocking satisfaction. 

His lower fingers resumed their lazy torment, one thumb pressing firmly against your clit in a slow circle that made your breath hitch despite yourself. The stomach mouth beneath his restraining palm let out a frustrated, muffled whine, the sound almost comical in its desperation, but Sukuna ignored it, his focus locked on you, reveling in the way your body betrayed your sulk.

Your eye twitched, a sharp, involuntary tic that betrayed the storm brewing under your skin, frustration coiling tighter as his amusement grated like nails on stone. He was enjoying this too much. The way you'd handed him the reins with that dry beg, thinking it would force his hand, only for him to twist it into another layer of torment.

His upper left hand released your hair to trail down your jaw, thumb hooking under your chin to tilt your face up, forcing you to meet that predatory stare. 

“That won't do,” he murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted your lips, his tone laced with that dark glee. “Put in more effort. Make me believe you want it. Or I'll leave you like this.” 

Another standoff. 

The air thick with unspoken challenge. 

Gods. Why did you even like this man? 

You sighed, the sound heavy and resigned, shifting your weight under his pinning hold as you shot him a sidelong glance, your lips pressing into a line of exasperation. Fine. If that's how he wanted to play, you'd give him what he craved. The sight of you unraveling, pathetic and desperate, just to watch that smug satisfaction deepen in his eyes. 

Leaning in slowly, you pressed a few soft kisses to the taut skin of his neck, your lips brushing lightly over the pulse there, then trailing down to his collarbone in tentative pecks that carried no heat, no demand, just a quiet plea wrapped in submission. They did absolutely nothing for him. Of course they didn’t. 

He remained unmoved, his upper hands holding you steady, one thumb tracing your jaw in lazy circles that mocked your efforts, the other idly squeezing your breast without urgency. 

The stomach mouth beneath his palm let out a faint, garbled rumble, something like your name mangled into a needy whine, but Sukuna silenced it with a subtle flex of his abs, his focus solely on you, that predatory gleam unwavering.

You sighed again, deeper this time, defeat settling in your bones as you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, your voice coming out soft and edged with that pathetic desperation you knew would stroke his ego. 

“Please... I need you inside me. Just... don't make me wait anymore.” The words hung there, needy but restrained, your body arching instinctively toward his touch, betraying the fire you'd tried to bank.

Your words lingered in the charged silence, that soft plea hanging between you. 

But as the moment stretched, your gaze involuntarily flicked downward, drawn to the taut plane of his abdomen where the stomach mouth lay suppressed beneath the flex of his hand, a faint tremor there, like a caged thing straining against invisible bars. 

It had tried to speak your name again, that garbled whine cut short, and something twisted in your chest. Gods. A pang of sympathy shot through you for the monstrous part of him that couldn't hide its need as well as the rest. He was so cruel.

You shot him a pointed look, your eyes narrowing just enough to convey the message without words at first, then letting your voice slip out in a dry, chastising murmur. “Stop being mean to it. It's just trying to say hello.”

Sukuna's expression didn't shift, that unimpressed arch of his brow the only acknowledgment as his upper hand paused its lazy tracing along your jaw, his dark eyes locking onto yours with barely concealed disdain. 

From his core came a low, rumbling threat, directed inward but vibrating through his body to you.  “Behave, or I'll cut your tongue out.”

The stomach mouth quivered in response, a muffled huff escaping before he finally eased the tension in his abs, releasing his smothering hold over it. The mouth parted slightly, lips curling in what might have been relief or defiance, a wet smack of its tongue against the air as if tasting freedom, but it held back any further noise. Poor thing. 

Your pointed stare lingered on him, dry and unamused. 

He had really ruined your fun. You barely even had time to enjoy the absurdity of the moment before he clamped down on it, just when it was starting to get good. You should’ve left him asleep. You and the mouth were getting along just fine.

You held his gaze without blinking, your lips pressing into a flat line that screamed disappointment without a word, your body still poised over his lap, thighs bracketing his hips while his lower hands kept you pinned in place. 

Sukuna met your stare with utter indifference, his crimson eyes half-lidded in lazy boredom, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if your silent reproach was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. 

Your dry stare held for a moment longer, but Sukuna's indifference chipped away at it, leaving you with a faint twitch of frustration in your jaw. He was back on top now, the shift palpable in the way his lower hands tightened just enough to remind you of his grip, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, spreading you wider over his lap without mercy. 

He'd smothered the stomach mouth's interruptions, reasserted his control, and now the outcome pleased him. The chaotic fun you'd poked at his edges turned back into his domain, his punishment brewing beneath that unbothered smirk.

The stomach mouth, still hovering just below, quivered with suppressed need, its lips sealed tight but trembling. A low, muffled hum escaped it, garbled and desperate, like a whine cut short, and Sukuna's abs flexed in warning, silencing it instantly. 

But he didn't ignore it entirely. His upper hand slid from your neck to trace the seam of those lips, thumb pressing down to part them slightly, forcing a soft, involuntary lick against his own skin.

“Quiet,” he murmured, voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest into yours, his annoyance faint now, more like a lingering itch he enjoyed scratching. “You've both been testing me long enough. Time to remind you who decides when the fun starts.”

He shifted then, his lower arms lifting you off his lap with effortless strength, flipping your positions so you landed on your back against the tatami mats, legs splayed and thighs still trembling from the denied friction. 

The stomach mouth loomed closer now, inches from your exposed pussy as he knelt between your legs, his cocks bobbing heavy and veined, precum beading at the tips. But he didn't touch you yet. That would be too easy. Oh no, with him punishment came deliberate, unhurried. 

His upper hands pinned your wrists above your head, stretching you out like an offering, while one lower hand gripped the base of one cock, guiding it to tap lightly against your clit, each smack sending jolts through you without penetration. 

The other upper hand reached down to the stomach mouth, fingers prying its jaws open wider, exposing the wet, eager tongue that lolled out, panting with garbled breaths that sounded almost like your name. 

Sukuna's eyes narrowed in faint irritation at the sound, but his mouth curved into a pleased, predatory grin. “See? It thinks it can join in without earning it. Just like you, pushing until I snap.”

He leaned forward, his face hovering over yours, breath hot against your lips as he dragged the head of his lower cock along your inner thigh. You did your best not to whine. Or else he’d make things even worse. 

When, with a deliberate tilt of his torso, he positioned the stomach mouth directly over your pussy, its tongue flicking out hesitantly under his command, a slow, broad lick that lapped at your folds. 

You arched involuntarily, the sensation rough and insistent, the mouth's needy hum vibrating against your clit as it delved deeper, sucking lightly at your entrance while Sukuna watched, his grip on your wrists unyielding. But he pulled it back after just a few strokes, the tongue retracting with a wet pop and a frustrated gurgle, denied full access. 

“Not yet,” he said, voice laced with that dark amusement, his faint annoyance fading into satisfaction at your gasp of protest. 

He mirrored the tease on himself, stroking his upper cock once, twice, letting a thick drop of precum fall onto your thigh before smearing it with his thumb, marking you without a thought. 

“Punishment means you wait. Both of you.” 

The stomach mouth whined again, lips brushing your skin in a begging nuzzle, but Sukuna's core tensed, holding it in check as he ground his cock against you, the pressure building but never breaching. His eyes locked on yours, pleased, in control, ready to drag this out until you both broke for him.

Your body betrayed you before your face could, a subtle tremor rippling through your thighs as Sukuna's cock nudged insistently against your pussy, the thick head circling without pushing in, just enough pressure to make your hips twitch upward in silent demand.

You clamped down on the urge to whimper, jaw locked tight, eyes narrowing into a glare that you hoped passed for defiance rather than the desperation clawing at your insides. 

Each denied thrust, each teasing lap from that ridiculous mouth leaving you slick and aching, your pussy clenching around nothing while heat pooled low in your belly, turning sour with frustration. 

But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you crack, not yet. He should be the one to break first. Instead, you let out a slow breath, forcing your voice to stay even, dry as bone.”'If this is your idea of punishment, you're slacking.”

Sukuna's laugh rumbled low, a dark vibration that traveled from his chest to yours where he loomed over you, his upper hands still pinning your wrists high above your head, stretching your arms taut until your breasts arched toward him. 

His gaze flicked over your face, catching the faint sour twist at the corner of your mouth, the way your brows pinched just a fraction too tight. Amusement sparked in his eyes, sharpening the pleased curve of his lips as he leaned closer, the heat of his breath ghosting your ear.

“Slacking? I'm just getting started.” 

Curse him.

He shifted his weight, one lower hand sliding up your inner thigh to spread you wider, fingers splaying your folds open with deliberate slowness, exposing your throbbing clit to the cool air before his thumb grazed it. Just once, feather-light, sending a jolt that made your toes curl.

But he pulled away before you could chase the touch, his chuckle deepening as the stomach mouth let out a muffled, eager slurp below, its tongue darting out to lap at the air near your core, tasting nothing but its own impatience.

Sukuna was pleased now. The irritation from earlier evaporated into this predatory glee, his cocks twitching against your skin. 

“Look at it,” he murmured, voice laced with dark humor, tilting his torso so the stomach mouth hovered closer, its hot breath fanning your entrance. “So desperate for a taste, just like you. But neither of you gets it until I say.”

With that, he guided the mouth forward again, letting its tongue flatten against your pussy in a broad, hungry stroke that sucked your arousal right up, the vibration of its hum buzzing straight to your core. You bit your lip hard to stifle the moan, but your hips bucked anyway, chasing the rough texture as it delved between your folds, circling your entrance without entering.

He yanked it back after three agonising licks, the wet smack echoing as the tongue retracted with a frustrated gurgle, lips smacking together in protest. Sukuna's grin widened, eyes gleaming with amusement at your involuntary gasp, the way your thighs quivered despite your best efforts to stay still. 

The sour edge in your chest twisted sharper, god, you needed more, the ache building to a fever pitch, your clit pulsing with every denied touch, but you schooled your expression into indifference, even as sweat beaded on your skin.

“That's it?” Your words came out flat, laced with that deadpan bite, but inside, desperation clawed higher, your body screaming for release while you fought to keep the mask intact.

Pleased didn't begin to cover the satisfaction rolling off him in waves. Sukuna's lower hands released your wrists only to grip your hips, flipping you onto your stomach with casual strength, your cheek pressing into the tatami as he hauled your ass up, knees spreading beneath you. 

His upper cock slapped against your back now, heavy and leaking, while the lower one prodded your pussy from behind, sliding through your folds in shallow glides that coated him fully but never filled. The stomach mouth, positioned just above, nuzzled against the small of your back, its tongue flicking out to trace your spine in needy patterns, warm and insistent, drawing a shiver you couldn't suppress. 

“Keep talking,” he growled, amusement threading through the command as he ground forward, the head of his lower cock catching at your entrance, stretching you open teasingly before slipping free again. “Your bratty little mouth only makes this sweeter.”

He reached around with one upper hand, pinching your clit between thumb and forefinger, rolling it just hard enough to make stars burst behind your eyes, your breath hitching despite the control you clung to. 

The edging heightened everything, your arousal turning to a frustrated throb, body taut, but you arched into it anyway, silently begging even as you shot him a sidelong glare over your shoulder, lips pressed thin to hide the plea.

Your breath caught in a ragged huff as the stomach mouth's tongue withdrew with one last lingering swipe along your back, leaving a trail of warm saliva that cooled against your overheated skin.

The unabashed eagerness of it, the way it dove in without hesitation, lapping freely at your folds, sucking greedily on your clit before Sukuna reined it back, sent a flush creeping up your neck, embarrassment twisting hot in your gut. 

You'd enjoyed it. Probably too much. The raw hunger of that second mouth contrasted sharply with his calculated denials, and now it gnawed at you, making your cheeks burn even as your pussy throbbed emptily, slick dripping down your thighs.

You twisted your head to glare at him over your shoulder, but the words tumbled out breathless and pathetic, laced with that frustration you couldn't quite bury. 

“You're... you're not even as nice as that thing,” you accused, voice hitching on the edge of a whine, your hips still twitching involuntarily from the aftershocks. “It doesn't hold back. Maybe you should try being more like it for once.”

The suggestion hung there, half-defiant, half-desperate, your body betraying you with another subtle clench around nothing, the edging turning every nerve raw and insistent.

Sukuna's scoff deepened into a low, rumbling laugh that vibrated against your back, his upper cock pressing firmer into the dip of your spine while the lower one teased your slick entrance with shallow dips, never quite breaching. 

One of his lower hands clamped down on your thigh, spreading you wider as the stomach mouth below let out a petulant smack, its tongue darting out to lap at the air inches from you. His crimson gaze locked onto yours in the reflection of a nearby polished screen, amusement sharpening the edges of his smirk.

“Nice?” he drawled, voice thick with derision, his free upper hand tangling in your hair to yank your head back, exposing the line of your throat.  “That slobbering idiot laps at whatever it wants because it's got no brains to savour the hunt. You think I need to mimic a mindless tongue to make you squirm? Pathetic.”

Sukuna punctuated the word with a sharp thrust forward, the head of his lower cock stretching your pussy lips apart before he withdrew, leaving you gasping and clenching desperately. 

The stomach mouth whined in protest, muffled by his tensed abs, but Sukuna ignored it, his breath hot against your neck as he added, “Keep whining like that, and I'll let it bury itself in you. See how nice you find it when it doesn't stop until you're raw.”

You let out a soft sniff, half frustration, half lingering afterglow, your body humming with unmet need as you attempted to rock your hips back, chasing the promise of that teasing pressure at your entrance. 

But Sukuna's grip tightened, his lower hands clamping your hips in place, denying even the slightest friction. The denial sent a fresh wave of ache through you, your inner walls fluttering emptily, slickness dripping down your thighs.

"Still think it's sweet," you muttered under your breath, voice laced with stubborn defiance, your eyes flicking toward the mouth that now sulked against his abdomen, its lips pursed in a ridiculous pout. The absurdity of it all, praising a mouth over the man it belonged to, almost made you smirk, even as your pulse thundered in your ears.

Sukuna's body went rigid behind you, the rumbling amusement from moments ago evaporating into utter silence. His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, not quite bruising but a clear warning, and the air thickened with his unspoken tension. 

The mouth perked up at your words, letting out a pleased, garbled hum that vibrated through his core. You bit your lip to stifle a laugh, but confusion crept in as the quiet stretched a beat too long. You twisted slightly, glancing back over your shoulder, and caught it.

A simmering look in his crimson eyes, sharp and brooding, like embers banked under ash.

Genuine confusion furrowed your brow. What had shifted so suddenly? His face remained a mask of composure, but that gaze... it burned with something possessive, something that twisted your gut with realisation.

Jealousy. 

The almighty Sukuna, envious of his own mindless appendage stealing your scraps of approval? The thought bubbled up, and you barely suppressed the amusement that threatened to spill into a grin, your lips twitching despite the raw need coiling tighter in your core.

Everything clicked then, a spark igniting the thrill low in your belly. 

You tested it, turning your head just enough to murmur, "But you're even better. So much more... commanding. The way you hold me like this, teasing until I can't think straight. It's perfect." The praise rolled off your tongue, specific and lavish, aimed straight at him, your voice dipping into a husky edge as you emphasised every word.

Sukuna's expression didn't crack, his silence unbroken, feigning utter indifference as if your words were mere wind. But you felt the subtle twitch of his lower cock against your folds, hot and insistent, and the way his upper one pressed firmer along your spine, a betrayal he couldn't quite hide. 

His upper hand in your hair loosened just a fraction, not releasing but lingering, while his lower hands kept you pinned, unyielding. The mouth quieted under his tension, but you sensed the war in him, that monstrous pride holding firm even as your words needled their way in.

Then, his voice sliced through the quiet, low and biting, teeth gritted as if the admission cost him. "I know what you're doing, woman. Twisting words to stroke my ego while you squirm for more."

You ignored that and pressed on, your voice turning syrupy, laced with exaggerated adoration that bordered on mockery. "Oh, but it's true. No one controls me like you do. Your hands, so strong, pinning me exactly where you want. And that power in you, the way you decide when I get to feel you... it's intoxicating. You're the only one who makes my body ache like this, aren't you?" 

Each word dripped slower, more teasing, your hips giving a deliberate, futile wiggle against his hold to punctuate the flattery, your inner thighs slick and trembling.

His jaw clenched visibly, that simmering gaze darkening, but he said nothing more, the silence thickening like smoke. You amped it higher, breath hitching as you leaned into the praise, making it lavish. 

“And your cocks— gods, the way they promise to fill me, stretch me until I break. You're perfection, Sukuna, the only one who can ruin me like this.” Your tone turned breathy, teasing the edge of desperation while keeping the smug undercurrent, reveling in how his body tensed further, the lower cock nudging insistently at your pussy, the upper one sliding lower to tease your ass.

Finally, a low growl escaped him, not from anger, but restraint fracturing. He shifted, his lower hands spreading your cheeks wider, exposing you fully. 

The stomach mouth stirred to life with a wet, eager slurp, its tongue lolling out long and dripping, saliva thick and warm as it extended impossibly to coat your entrances. It lapped first at your pussy, the broad stroke slicking your folds generously, then dragged up to circle your ass, the drool mixing with your own arousal until both holes glistened. 

You gasped at the sensation, the praise faltering on your lips, but before you could recover, Sukuna pressed forward with deliberate slowness. 

His lower cock eased into your pussy inch by torturous inch, the thick head parting your slick walls, stretching you gradually until the burn of fullness made your breath hitch. At the same moment, his upper cock nudged against your ass, breaching the tight ring with a controlled push, filling you from behind in tandem, the dual intrusion deliberate and unhurried. 

He sank both deep, but not slamming. He dragged it out, letting you feel every ridge, every vein, your body yielding to the overwhelming pressure that left you trembling.

His upper hands gripped your shoulders, holding you steady as he bottomed out, hips flush against you, but he didn't thrust yet. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice a low, mocking rumble against your ear.

"Go on, then. Keep talking. Tell me how much you need this." The words dripped with that meanness, a taunt wrapped in permission, his breath hot as he waited, cocks buried to the hilt but utterly still, pulsing inside you.

You swallowed hard, the stretch making your mind blur, but the smug spark in you refused to die. "You... you're so good at this," you started, voice shaky but defiant, drawing out the words to match his pace. "The way you—" 

A slow, precise roll of his hips cut you off mid-sentence, his lower cock grinding deep into that sensitive spot inside your pussy, sending a jolt of pleasure that turned your words into a gasp. He held there, dragging the pressure out, watching you squirm before easing back just enough to let you breathe.

"Don't stop now," he murmured, tone laced with cruel amusement, upper cock twitching in your ass as if to remind you of its presence. "I want to hear it all. Every pathetic word." He pulled out fractionally, then pushed in again, slower than before, timing the thrust to hit that bundle of nerves right as you opened your mouth to continue.

"Filling me like—ah— like no one else could," you managed, the words fracturing around the deliberate drag, your walls clenching desperately around him as he lingered, hips circling lazily to prolong the torment. 

The slow rhythm built an agonising tension, each measured stroke teasing your depths without mercy, his four hands roaming. One tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, another tracing your spine, the lower hands kneading your hips as if savouring your every twitch. 

The stomach mouth let out a muffled, envious rumble against his skin, but Sukuna ignored it, focused entirely on drawing out your unraveling, his crimson eyes locked on the way your body betrayed you with every interrupted praise.

"Insolent little thing," he muttered then, the words rough and low, slipping out like a crack in his armoured composure. 

His voice was low, edged with that past irritation finally surfacing. He leaned in closer, weight pressing in on you as his teeth grazed your ear. "Always pushing, always testing. As if you could unravel me with your games." 

The admission hung there, laced with a bitterness that betrayed how deeply your teasing had wormed under his skin, how the simple act of you giving attention to that part of him had twisted something raw inside him, jealousy he couldn't quite bury.

You were breathless now, chest heaving with the effort to string thoughts together amid the slow, torturous fullness, but realisation dawned sharper than the pleasure coiling in your gut.

He couldn't cope with your fun, not really. Not when it veered toward praising anything but him. Gods, to think he could be undone by a scrap of affection aimed elsewhere… it lit a smug fire in you, warm and wicked, even as your thighs trembled from the strain of holding him.

His upper hand fisted tighter in your hair, tilting your head back to expose your throat, while the others dug into your hips, guiding another languid thrust that bottomed out with exquisite precision. 

"Keep going," he urged, the command dripping with that mean undercurrent, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. "Tell me more about how perfect I am. Or are you finally out of breath?"

The taunt only fueled your defiance, your lips curving into a breathless coo as you twisted just enough to meet his gaze over your shoulder, eyes gleaming with unrepentant mischief. 

"Aw, Sukuna... were you jealous? Of your own mouth getting all my sweet words? That's almost... cute. Makes me want to praise it even more, just to see you squirm." The words tumbled out in a husky whisper, teasing and pointed, your inner muscles fluttering around him deliberately to punctuate the jab, knowing full well it would grind against his fraying control like salt in a wound.

His eyes narrowed to slits, crimson flashing with a storm of irritation and hunger, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he processed your audacity. The stomach mouth let out a muffled, eager whine against his abdomen. A secret ally in your provocation. Two against one.

He didn't respond immediately, instead pulling back with excruciating slowness, the drag of his cocks leaving you achingly empty for a heartbeat before he surged forward again, timing the thrust to bury deep right as your taunt lingered in the air, cutting off any further barbs with a gasp that ripped from your throat.

"Cute," he echoed finally, the word laced with promise. 

His teeth sunk into the curve of your neck, claiming, possessive, one of his free hands sliding up to your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast in a feather-light tease that contrasted the heavy fullness below. 

"You'll regret that, woman. I'll make you choke on every last word." 

But even as he growled the threat, his hips circled lazily, grinding in place to drag out the friction, his body betraying the thrill your insolence sparked, the slow pace turning the punishment into shared torment as he moved to reclaim the upper hand.

It was the game you both played so well, this endless push and pull, where every taunt from your lips was a hook he couldn't resist reeling in, and every growl from him only made you want to tug harder. Deep down, in the haze of building heat, you reveled in it. 

The satisfaction of cracking his facade just a fraction, knowing he thrived on the chase as much as you did on the thrill of being caught. He could have ended it in seconds, overwhelmed you with his strength, but he didn't. Because where was the fun in that? No, this was your shared ritual, the spark that made the fire burn hotter. 

Your body arched into his hold, a secret smile ghosted your thoughts. 

Gods, you loved how he pretended to hate this. 

Smug certainty blooming alongside the ache, fueling your next breathy retort even as his cocks dragged deeper, syncing with the pulse of your defiance. The mouth stirred faintly against his skin, a soft, muffled hum vibrating through to you both, but he quelled it with a flex of muscle, refusing any interruption to the rhythm you’d both woven so carefully. 

His lower hands guided your hips back to meet his next slow plunge, the dual stretch pulling an involuntary whimper from you, even as your mind raced with the joy of it all, the way this push and pull stripped away everything but the electric connection between you, raw and unyielding.

You tilted your head just to watch as the irritation in his eyes softened a fraction, replaced by a glint of shared mischief as he finally let the leash slip. Not all the way, but enough to quicken the roll of his hips, his cocks sliding deeper in a synchronised thrust that dragged against your walls with purposeful friction. 

The pace built, still measured, each plunge deliberate enough to let you feel every inch, every ridge, but faster now, the heat coiling tighter between you as his control shifted from torment to indulgence.

All four of his hands came alive then, claiming you with a possessive fervor that bordered on overwhelming. His lower pair gripped your thighs, spreading them wider to angle you just right, thumbs circling the sensitive skin where your legs met your core, pressing in time with his movements to heighten the stretch. 

The upper hands roamed freer, one splaying across your back to arch you into him, fingers digging into the dip of your spine with just enough pressure to pin you in place, while the other slipped between your bodies, fingertips finding your clit and rubbing in firm, unyielding circles that sent sparks racing up your spine. 

Overstimulation hit like a wave, your nerves firing on every front, the dual penetration already filling you to the brink now amplified by those relentless touches, making your breath hitch into sharp gasps.

"Give me more," he murmured against your ear, voice rough with that teasing edge, his breath hot and uneven. "Tell me how much you need this, how you're aching for me to ruin you properly." 

His thrusts picked up another notch, the wet sounds of skin meeting skin filling the air. You couldn't help the grin that tugged at your lips amid the haze, the pleasure twisting deliciously as you rocked back against him, meeting his rhythm with a defiant grind. 

"Ruin me?" you shot back, voice laced with that playful lilt, even as your walls clenched around him involuntarily. "You're the one losing it. Bet you can't hold back much longer." 

It was a blatant lie, you’d definitely be cumming first. But you simply egged him on because you knew it would stoke the fire, and gods, the way his grip tightened in response, the stomach mouth letting out a muffled, eager groan against his abdomen, only made it sweeter. 

This was the fun of it, the electric rush of pushing until he pushed back harder, both of you reveling in the chaos you'd created together.

Sukuna's laugh came darker this time, a full-bodied sound that rumbled through his chest, cocks driving into you  with renewed vigor, the pace controlled but insistent, each withdrawal teasing before the slam home that had you keening. His fingers on your clit sped up, pinching lightly before soothing with broader strokes, while the hand on your back slid up to tangle in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat for his teeth.

"Brazen as ever," he growled, but there was no real bite to the words. Just heat, just the thrill of the game turning into something raw and joyous. 

The symphony of slick slaps and your shared breaths filled the room, but beneath it all, a new undercurrent pulled at your focus, the wet, muffled sounds emanating from Sukuna's extra mouth. It had been relatively quiet during the initial build, suppressed under his will, but now, as his hips snapped forward with that controlled rhythm, driving both cocks deep into your pussy and ass in tandem, the mouth stirred. 

Low, needy slurps and garbled hums vibrated against his skin, the tongue flicking idly as if tasting the air charged with your arousal. It was distracting, that insistent noise cutting through the haze of pleasure, making you glance down even as your body arched back into him.

"What's that?" you murmured, half-laughing through a gasp as one particularly deep thrust made your walls flutter around him. 

"Your friend’s getting noisy down there– sounds like it's starving for attention." The words came out teasing, but your rhythm faltered just a touch, your eyes drawn to the subtle movements rippling across his abdomen.

Sukuna stilled abruptly, both cocks buried to the hilt inside you, the sudden pause sending a throb of anticipation through your core. He huffed, a long exhale that rumbled from his chest. His upper hands tightened on your hips while the lower ones paused their explorations, one still pressed to your clit, the other splayed across your lower belly.

"It's been patient long enough," he admitted, voice low and grudging, laced with a satisfaction that hadn't been there before. 

The control he'd wrestled back earlier settled over him, easing the tension in his frame. He felt steadier now, the irritation from before melting into a quiet triumph. No more fighting his own body. He could indulge it, on his terms.

With a sigh that bordered on lenient, he relented, one hand sliding up to pat the edge of the mouth almost absently, as if quieting a restless pet. The noises softened to eager whines, the tongue lolling out briefly before retreating.

But he wasn't done testing you.

"Think you can handle more?" he huffed, the words rough against your ear as he leaned over you, his breath hot on your neck. 

There was a challenge in it, a playful edge to the doubt, even as his cocks twitched inside you, promising escalation. Before you could snap back a retort, he pulled out with a deliberate drag, both lengths withdrawing inch by inch, leaving you clenching around emptiness, a whine escaping your lips at the loss. 

His four hands moved in tandem then, flipping you effortlessly onto your back with a strength that brooked no argument. You landed amid the rumpled bedding, legs splayed, chest heaving as he loomed over you, eyes dark with intent.

He positioned himself between your thighs, knees nudging yours wider, and aligned his cocks once more, one pressing insistently at your pussy, the other at your ass. The mouth hovered closer now in this new angle, its tongue extending with a slick, anticipatory slurp, poised to reach where his hands couldn't. 

"Let's see," he murmured, thrusting forward in a single, measured push that filled you completely again, both holes stretching around him as he bottomed out. 

The pace resumed slower at first, hips rolling to let you adjust, but the addition was immediate. The mouth's tongue darted out, lapping flat and broad against your clit in time with his movements, wet and insistent, sending jolts of overstimulation racing through you.

You bucked up involuntarily, the triple assault making your toes curl and a far too needy moan tear from your throat. 

His hands weren't idle. The upper pair pinned your wrists above your head, fingers interlacing with yours in a grip that was firm but not punishing, while the lower ones roamed, one cupping your breast to tease the nipple, the other tracing where his cocks met your body, feeling the way you took him. The mouth's noises grew hungrier, slurps punctuating each lick, but under his eased control, it stayed focused, no longer a distraction but an extension of his dominance.

"There," he rasped softly, eyes locked on yours as he quickened the thrusts just enough to build that coiling heat anew, the dual penetration dragging against every sensitive spot. "Now it's all for you. Behave, and maybe I'll let it make you scream." 

The words carried that dark amusement, his composure fully returned, turning the scene into a shared indulgence where he dictated the pleasure, but the spark in his gaze showed he was just as lost in it as you.

Every sense was overwhelmed in the best way possible. Sukuna's cocks filled you utterly, he one in your pussy grinding against that deep, aching spot with each deliberate roll of his hips, while the length in your ass stretched you with a burning fullness that bordered on too much, yet pulled you deeper into the haze. 

The dual friction created a pressure that built relentlessly, your walls clenching and fluttering around him, slick with your arousal that eased the way but amplified every drag of him against you. And then there was that impossibly large tongue, relentless in its pursuit, lapping broad and flat over your clit before narrowing to flick the sensitive tip, each wet slurp sending electric sparks shooting up your spine.

The sounds were obscene. The wet sounds of your folds meeting his thrusts, the mouth's greedy smacks against your skin, your own ragged breaths mingling with breathless moans you couldn't suppress. 

Heat bloomed everywhere his body touched yours. The press of his chest against your breasts, the rough pads of his lower hands kneading your thighs, spreading you wider, while his upper pair still held your wrists pinned, thumbs stroking the insides in a rhythm that mocked the chaos below.

Your legs trembled, the coil in your belly tightening to an almost painful degree, but instinct took over. You hooked your ankles behind his back, locking him in place with a desperate strength that surprised even you. It pulled him deeper on the next thrust, both cocks seating impossibly further, and you cried out, the sound muffled against his shoulder as you bit down lightly on the muscle there. 

Pleasure bordered on overload, your clit throbbing under the tongue's assault, swollen and hypersensitive, each pass making your hips jerk involuntarily.  You were drowning in it, every nerve alight, chasing that edge where control shattered and release beckoned, your body arching up to meet him as if you could fuse yourself to the source of this exquisite torment.

Sukuna's gaze never left your face, those crimson eyes hooded and intense, drinking in every twitch and gasp like a predator savoring the hunt's climax. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, but it softened at the edges, his usual smug detachment cracking under the raw pull of the moment. 

Watching you unravel beneath him, taking both his cocks so greedily, your defiance melted into this beautiful, wrecked surrender. It stirred something deeper in him, a possessive heat that made his thrusts falter for a beat, hips grinding in a slow circle that pressed the tongue harder against your clit. 

His composure slipped further when your legs locked around him, drawing him close. One of his lower hands slid up to grip your calf, holding the position as if to anchor himself too. 

Then, without warning, he leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was all fire and mess, no precision, just hot and demanding, his tongue plunging past your lips to tangle with yours in a slick, devouring rhythm that mirrored the one below. 

His breath hitched against your mouth as he lost himself in the kiss, thrusts turning erratic for the first time, the careful control giving way to shared abandon. In that instant, the world narrowed to just this. The push and pull of bodies locked together, the thrill of yielding and claiming in equal measure, both of you tumbling toward the brink without a word.

Your arms, freed when his upper hands shifted to cradle your hips, snaked up instinctively around Sukuna's neck, fingers threading into the coarse strands of his hair as if anchoring yourself against the rising tide. 

His cocks drove deeper with each controlled thrusts, the friction making your vision blur at the edges. The mouth's thick tongue didn't relent, swirling around your clit with wet, insistent laps that had you keening, the pressure coiling so tight in your core it felt like it might snap you in half.

"Sukuna, it's too much," the words tumbled out in a breathless rush against his lips, your voice cracking as another grind of his hips sent a fresh wave of heat surging through you. 

Your body betrayed you, walls clamping down greedily around him, pulling him in even as you whimpered, "Can't—ah—too full, gonna break me..." Sweat beaded on your skin, mixing with the slick mess between your thighs, every nerve screaming from the overload of sensation.

He pulled back just enough to watch you, those crimson eyes gleaming with dark amusement, his lower hands digging into the flesh of your ass to spread you wider, angling the thrusts to hit that devastating spot inside your pussy while the tongue flicked faster, merciless. 

"Too much?" he echoed, voice a low, mocking drawl laced with that infuriating smugness, his breath hot against your ear as one upper hand slid up your spine to press you closer. "But you're taking it so well, aren't you? Greedy little thing, clenching like you never want me to stop. Come on, let it happen. Give in for me." 

His words were encouragement wrapped in taunt, hips rolling in a slow, deliberate circle that ground both cocks against your most sensitive depths, the tongue pressing flat and firm now, vibrating with a subtle hum that pushed you right to the precipice.

He didn't speed up, didn't rush. Instead, he savoured it, his free upper hand tracing lazy patterns over your breast, thumb circling the hardened nipple as if to coax out every last quiver. The possessiveness in his gaze sharpened, a flicker of that earlier jealousy melting into satisfaction at seeing you like this. Utterly his, unraveling under his control.

The brink hit you without mercy, your complaints dissolving into a choked cry as the coil shattered, orgasm ripping through you in shuddering waves. You clenched around his cocks, squeezing them with rhythmic pulses that drew a guttural groan from him, your release flooding hot and slick down his lengths.  Legs still locked around him, you arched off the tatami, nails scraping his scalp as stars burst behind your eyelids, the tongue lapping up every drop of your climax with obscene, slurping eagerness. 

Sukuna huffed in amusement, the sound rough and triumphant against your neck as he nipped at the skin there, not letting up until you'd ridden out the tremors. 

"There she is," he murmured, voice dripping with mock surprise, his thrusts slowing to a teasing grind that prolonged the aftershocks. "Complaining one second, cumming all over me the next. Pathetic how easy you are when I want you to be." 

Your body still trembled from the aftershocks, every muscle quivering as you clung to Sukuna, but the haze of your release only sharpened your focus on him. The way his cocks throbbed inside you, hot and insistent, his rhythm faltering just a fraction as he ground deeper into you. 

You could feel the tension coiling in him, the subtle hitch in his breath, and a wicked spark ignited in your chest. Even wrecked like this, slick and spent, you weren't done playing. 

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling his head down so your lips brushed his jaw, your voice a ragged whisper laced with that familiar defiance. "You're so close, aren't you?" you murmured, nipping at the sharp line of his jaw with your teeth, the bite light but deliberate, enough to draw a low sound from him. "All that control... but I feel you twitching. You need this, need me, more than you let on."

He growled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours, but he didn't pull away. Instead, one of his upper hands cupped the back of your head, holding you there as if daring you to continue. His lower hands kept their grip on your hips, thrusting with renewed purpose now, the dual lengths plunging deeper into your pussy and ass, stretching you anew with each slide.

The stomach mouth's tongue retreated slightly, giving your clit a moment's reprieve, but it hovered close, warm breaths ghosting over your skin as if waiting for the cue to join back in. You licked a slow stripe up his neck, your tongue tracing the tattooed markings that flexed under your touch. 

"Sorry," you breathed weakly against his skin, the word half-mocking, half-genuine, as you sucked lightly at the spot just below his ear. "For teasing you earlier... but you love it, don't you? Love how I push until you snap."

Sukuna's eyes narrowed, crimson depths flickering with a mix of irritation and dark pleasure, his lips curling into that signature smirk even as his hips snapped forward harder, the slap of skin echoing in the dim room. 

"Apologies now?" he rumbled, voice rough with restraint, one hand sliding down to pinch your nipple sharply, twisting just enough to make you gasp and arch into him. 

"After you've already gotten exactly what you want? Keep talking. See if it saves you from what's coming." There was no real bite in the threat. 

His thrusts grew more erratic, veined shafts dragging against your walls with a friction that had him grunting low, chasing the edge you'd so cleverly nudged him toward.

You didn't stop, couldn't if you tried. Your body moved on instinct, legs squeezing tighter around his waist to pull him impossibly deeper, your walls fluttering around his cocks in invitation.

"Fuck me harder," you urged, the words spilling out in a breathless rush, your teeth grazing his shoulder now as you bit down, marking the unmarred skin there. "Deeper, Sukuna— fill me up, show me how much you want this. You're the strongest, the one who takes everything... take me." 

Your praise wove through the pleas, ego-stroking whispers that hit just right, your tongue soothing the bite with a wet lap before you nipped again, lighter this time, urging him on. The ruined state of you, limbs heavy, core aching from the stretch, voice hoarse, only fueled the fire. You rocked your hips to meet his, clenching deliberately around him to heighten the squeeze, drawing a ragged curse from his lips.

He loved this, you could tell—the amusement glinting in his gaze as he watched you fall apart yet beg for more, how you pushed through the overload just to unravel him. It was the ultimate submission wrapped in your cheeky rebellion, and it pleased him to no end, his four arms flexing as he hauled you closer, one hand splaying across your lower back to angle you perfectly for the next brutal thrust.

"That's it," he murmured, voice a purr now, the mocking edge softening into something almost approving. "Ruined and still greedy for it. How far will you go for me, hm? Begging like this... it's almost endearing."

His pace quickened, cocks pistoning in sync, the head of the one in your pussy battering that sweet spot relentlessly while the other claimed your ass with equal fervor. The stomach mouth chimed in with a needy whine, tongue darting out to flick at the juncture where you were joined, lapping at the mingled slickness as if to hasten his end.

The coil in him snapped under your encouragement, the way you clenched and urged him deeper, his body tensing before he buried himself deep. Hot spurts of cum flooded your pussy first, painting your walls as he pulsed inside you, the second cock following suit. Both holes stuffed until it leaked out around the seal of your bodies. 

His upper hands gripped your shoulders, holding you down through the waves, while the lower hands kneaded your thighs, thumbs pressing into the bruises he'd left earlier. You felt every twitch, every throb, your own body responding with faint echoes of pleasure, squeezing him dry as he shuddered against you.

When it finally ebbed, he didn't withdraw immediately, staying lodged deep, his forehead resting against yours for a beat, breath mingling in the heavy air. A huff of laughter escaped him, low and sated, as he traced a thumb over your bitten lip. 

The air in the room felt thicker now, your limbs heavy and boneless against the rumpled sheets. You were spent, utterly wrecked. Your muscles ached from the stretch, core throbbing with the fullness of him still buried inside, a lazy trickle of his cum seeping out where your bodies connected. 

Weakness pinned you in place, but your gaze wandered anyway, drifting downward to the stomach mouth that had gone quiet in the aftermath, its lips parted just enough to reveal the pink gleam of its tongue.

Why had it said your name like that? 

Earlier, before the frenzy, the garbled syllables had slipped out, needy, insistent, cutting through the haze like a secret he couldn't suppress. 

Now, with the heat cooling, curiousity tugged at you, soft and insistent. Your fingers threaded into the soft pink strands at the nape of his neck, playing idly with the hair there, twisting and tugging in gentle pulls that made his breath hitch once more, almost imperceptible. 

You tilted your head up, lips brushing his in a shy nudge, urging him silently for one more kiss. It came slower this time, languid and unhurried, his mouth claiming yours with a lazy drag of tongue, dominance softened by the edges of satisfaction.

As he pulled back just enough to let you breathe, your voice emerged soft, curious, laced with that post-climax haze. "Sukuna..." you murmured, eyes flicking down again to the mouth before meeting his crimson stare. "What was that about? Your mouth... it kept trying to say my name. Why?"

He didn't tense, didn't snap. Just watched you with that predatory amusement flickering back to life, one upper hand sliding from your shoulder to cup your jaw, thumb stilling your wandering gaze for a moment. 

The lower hands stayed put, massaging the tender spots on your thighs, as if anchoring you in the intimacy. A low rumble built in his chest, not quite a laugh, more a vibration that traveled through where he remained joined inside you. 

"Nosy even when you're falling apart," he mused, but there was no real irritation. Only that smug curl to his lips, like he enjoyed the way you poked at his cracks. 

The mouth stirred faintly at your question, a soft, wet smack echoing from it, but it didn't speak. Instead, the tongue lolled out briefly, as if tasting the air, before retreating with a muffled whine that bordered on petulant.

Your hands kept at his hair, fingers combing through the damp locks, the motion soothing your own frayed nerves as much as it teased him. The shyness lingered in your question, but so did the spark of playfulness. Your body shifted just a fraction, enough to feel the drag of his cocks against your walls, drawing a shared inhale. 

He didn't answer right away, letting the silence stretch. When he did speak, it was low, breath warm against your skin. "It has a mind of its own sometimes. And you... you worm your way in deeper than you should." His eyes narrowed, but the grip on your jaw softened, thumb tracing your lower lip again, parting it slightly. "Don't get smug about it."

But you could see the flicker. The way his body betrayed him still, the subtle twitch inside you, the mouth's quiet rumble like an echo of unspoken want. It was enough to make your spent form hum with quiet triumph, even as exhaustion pulled at you, urging you to melt further into his hold.

But you didn't press, letting the words hang there like a secret you'd tuck away for another time. The curiousity ebbed into contentment, your body too sated to chase more answers right then. 

Instead, you shifted closer, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Your lips brushed his skin in a soft graze, voice emerging as a murmur, low and affectionate against the pulse there. 

"I'm glad it woke me," you said, the words laced with a lazy smile you could feel curving your mouth. "Look at how much fun we just had."

A faint huff escaped him, not quite dismissive but edged with that familiar unimpressed edge, as if the whole spectacle, the mouth's slip, your prodding, even his own indulgence, rattled him still. From his abdomen, a low, garbled rumble stirred faintly, like the dormant slit was chuckling in agreement, only to fall silent under his glare.

His crimson eyes half-lidded, gaze drifting over your form with a critical sweep, like he was appraising the mess you'd both made. The vibration in his chest deepened, carrying a reluctant acceptance that didn't quite mask the inward irritation.

"Fun," he echoed, the word flat, almost mocking in its drawl. Then, after a beat, his thumb paused along your jaw, voice dropping to a gravelly murmur. "Next time, ignore the fool, or I'll feed you to it."

The threat hung there, half-hearted and laced with that dark amusement he couldn't fully hide, but you just pressed closer, unbothered by the imagery, a soft hum of contentment escaping you as if the idea only added to the thrill. 

He didn't pull away, didn't shove you off.

Just let you settle there, his breath steadying as the heat between you cooled to a heavy, intimate quiet. Perhaps finally resigned, to let the moment linger in its imperfect haze.

[kamiflix]

rated R for mature content, mdni. (not proofread, gulp)

Riding Higuruma fully clothed in his bathtub right after he gets home from work is one big wet 'n soggy mess of sex. You rarely understood why he got in a tub full of water while still wearing that suit of his but tonight you were much too horny to care about that.

Climbing into the water with him and settling your legs around his, caging his limbs with your own as your naked frame filled up the entirety of his view—leaving him complaint-less and sporting a frustratingly hard cock beneath his dark, wet pants.

Your hand snakes down in between your legs to rub over the tent in his slacks as your lips near his ear and you whisper something along the lines of desperately needing to feel him. To which he promptly responds by slouching further back against the tub, water clashing out onto the floor due to his fluid movements, and head rolling back to get more comfortable beneath you.

The moment your fingers brush against his dick, he feels something wetter than the water surrounding him build up at the swollen head of his cock, his bottom lip shifting to be clasped between his teeth. "Someone's needy, huh?" He whispers as if he wasn't currently experiencing the same state of desperation.

"Uhuh, wanna ride you, Hiro. Can I?" You ask cutely enough to make a weary smile break out against his dulled features.

Those tired, broad-set eyes of his lower against your frame before he moves his hands in slow motion—the rough callouses of his fingers meeting your naked waist and making you whine as he carefully tugs you closer to him. Your hand loses its place against his clothed cock and you're promptly sat down on the same erection you'd been palming—forced to feel how he twitches wildly upon feeling your bare cunt press down on him instead.

He sighs tiredly as his hands travel up, mapping out every inch of your skin like he always does while muttering, "You really wanna ride me like this? I'm still wearing my work clothes," He reminds you in a husk tone that echoes throughout the bathroom.

"Don't care," You huff. "Jus' want you inside me."

He scoffs at you before moving the thick of his thumb to your bottom lip and then tugging it down to watch how a sheeny slick of drool escapes you, "Needy little thing. Can I get a please out of that mouth? Hm?"

You take his thumb in between your lips for a moment to suck, your hips unconsciously rocking forward to feel more of him—more of his thickening cock that's busy jumping up against the fabric between you both. You longed to feel him fuck you full again and kiss that spongey spot inside you that always makes you sob out his name.

Batting your lashes pliantly, your lips wetly pop off of him as you pout, "Please, Hiro?"

Higuruma shakes his head almost disappointedly, "Please what, sweetheart? If you can beg, you can beg properly. Tell me exactly what it is you want from me, yeah?"

"I told you already," Your pout deepens and he fights the urge to mock you. "I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me."

"Atta' girl, that's all I wanted to hear." He rolls his hips up slowly to grind up against your slobbering cunt, swallowing down a groan at how soft you feel even with all the water between your bodies. "Go on then, take it. You know it's all yours."

You don't waste a single second upon hearing that. Your hands fly down to tug at his belt, letting it fling out of the tub and land somewhere on the bathroom floor with a rough clatter—shuffling beneath the bath water to unzip him, and then reaching a hand into his boxers to finally pull his cock free.

The plump head flops out first, landing up against his clothed abdomen with that sinful left curve. The sight alone has you letting out an embarrassingly desperate moan before you lift yourself and let his hands guide you by your waist until you're hovering over him.

Then, you hesitate for a second and he lifts a dark brow.

"Don't get shy on me now," Higuruma warns, tipping his head to the side and letting his grip travel down to your hips to ease your body where he needs it, "You said you wanted to ride me so, ride me. Show me how pretty you look taking my cock, c'mon."

Feeling a bit more encouraged, you finally let your hand wrap around his wiiide base and hold him in place as you sink down on him. His mushroomy tip smears your pussylips apart and chokes a moan out of both of your throats. Your lashes flutter as you continue to travel down—inch by sprawling inch—and his eyes never leave your body.

"So gorgeous," Higuruma whispers softly before using one hand to push you further down and the other to come up 'n squeeze your tits.

It's not long before both of you are getting into the rhythm of things. By the time your cunt swallows up every inch of him, left to clench and throb around his bulging base, Higuruma's got his lips latched to your perky nipples, sucking it into his mouth and letting his tongue waft around carefree.

The feel of his sloppy mouth is only lost when you get more desperate, your hips now rocking up 'n down his cock as he thwacks! against that gummy spot inside you over and over and over again.

Then his hips are bucking up into yours and the bath water is just splashing and splashing, a pool left on the outskirts of the tub—surely to be a hazard for the two of you later. His hands are at the purchase of your hips again, aiding you in your bouncing while he peers up at you with pretty glossed-over eyes.

Higuruma's a mess of pants and soft praises, words rolling off of his tongue, "Look s'beautiful fucking yourself on my cock like that. Bet it feels s'good, huh?" He teases, earning a cockdrunk nod of your head and then cracking a dazed smile at you, "Yeahh? You like fucking yourself on me like this?"

Your response is mumbled out to him but he gets the idea with how frantic your movements become.

Only a few more minutes of that pass before he's pinning you in place above him and scrunching his brows, staring dead up into your eyes before bucking his hips up with fervor.

Whatever moan was on its way out your throat trips against your vocal cords as air is politely stripped from your lungs.

Then his breath grows ragged and all thoughts between you are lost before something soooobs out his cockhead in gooey gushes, his cum flooding your walls and feeling all the more goopy inside you with the addition of the bathwater.

perm everything tags:

@navyllll @2kool4skoolll @daxphoriax @gorouenjoyer @blubearxy @wonderfullymickey @iaintblockinnobody @kitassecretgf @nanamitiddiechomper @ohreallyfriend 

@withersworld @suguphile @megottheswaskikacooooke @kvsqkiii @yourlocalcatscammer @lucy-lulu @sukubusss @sweetieelilii @lisabelhyhn @serenadesvt 

@riameriash @arminseas2 @palanggaaa @makingtimemine @theodoresvalentine @blcknebula @remscreams @jaibunni @blkkizzat @a-jazzy-bee @sktvienna 

@chloeee20 @naoybby @lanamyersismywife @strwbrrymoonwrites @andhereweareallalone @sindulgent666 @bypanana

additional tags bc we were talking abt this: @uhnosav @madamechrissy @cupidstrace

[spookjoz]

18+ ── bf!enjin puts on sweats ‘cuz he knows how horny they make you…!

warnings. 0.8k, fem!reader, super short n horny thirst, enjin in sweats 😩, dryhumping/grinding, language, dirty talk, continuous use of pet names & nicknames, messy orgasms/maybe squirting(?), alluded p in v at the end. i may or may not be ovulating atm. please enjoy loveys!! <3

“fuck—holy shit, you’re horny as hell, huh?” enjin murmured breathily, large hands gripping your hips as you bunted them over his cock over and over again.

“‘s your fault,” you muttered back, lips skirting against the skin of his tatted neck. he was so hard beneath you, thick cock sliding against your cunt through the layers of clothes; even with the obstruction you were leaking, so thoroughly stimulated by his size alone.

“don’t see—mmmfuck!—how.” enjin panted back, hips rolling up to press his cock firmer against your heated core, pulling a desperate mewl from your lips.

“bullshit,” you countered breathlessly, waist jerking and lungs shuddering. you were so horny it was painful. “you knew what you were, hah, fuck!—what you were fuckin’ doing wearing these.”

enjin groaned low and the couch creaked as his hips picked up speed, fucking his bulge against you faster and faster; your vision grew slightly blurry at the onslaught of stimulation, arousal ramping up at the feel of that thick cock sliding against you—your cunt fluttered while slick dripped from your folds, pussy begging to be stretched.

“maybe i did,” he relented as he snaked his arms fully around your waist and pulled your chest into his. “maybe i thought you’d be droolin’ f’my cock the second you saw me. and i was right, wasn’t i, baby? you’re droolin’ from both ends, yeah?”

you bit back the whine that crawled up your throat, your body so hot and buzzed and liquified —fuck, you were losing it.

“god, you’re fuckin’ dripping, baby girl,” enjin growled, “i can feel it. is she ready f’me, hmm? all ready to get fucked? and all from a pair of sweats?”

now you couldn’t bite back your voice; it erupted from your throat in the form of a desperate mewl, cunt aching at the invitation, needy for that thick cock—

“yesyesyes—fuck me.” you warbled out, grinding down harder against him, sweet friction exploding against your clit and shooting stars to your vision. “wan’ your cock so baaaad, ‘jinnie.”

it had practically been teasing you all day, blessing you with a glorious vision of his dick print when he moved in just the right way. it was hardly your fault for wanting it, and you’d stand firm on that.

your answer had enjin groaning hotly against your collar bone and your skin pimpled pleasantly when his lips pressed against it in a chaste kiss.

enjin’s voice bordered on a growl when he pressed a second later, “i’ll give it t’you, baby. first i want ya t’cum just like this, okay? can you do that f’me, baby? rub yourself on m’cock ‘til you cum?” there was an edge of desperation to his tone, and you vaguely wondered if this was some sort of fetish for him.

you nod and whine as you ruck your hips forward, down, in circles; just using whatever movement gave you the most vivid stimulation so that your clit was absolutely throbbing, orgasm bubbling slowly in your gut, desperate to reach the surface and blind you with euphoria.

“good girl, that’s it—fuckin’ grind on this big cock. you love it, don’cha, doll?” enjin slurred, mouthing at your skin between words. it’s all going to your head and your pussy—the stimulation, the heat, enjin’s voice, enjin’s scent, his hands and his touch… fuck, you’re so, so drunk on him. almost too drunk to properly function.

but that orgasm that’s still teasing below your skin propels your sloppy self, and enjin’s soft coos and absolutely filthy words are stirring your gut up almost as much as his thick cock against your swollen clit. so, it only takes you a minute more of humping him to unravel, to have you trembling to your very bones while you gush, clit gaining a heartbeat and white waves of euphoria crashing through your body.

you can actually feel how wet you are, just how hard you’ve cum; you’re still making a mess, slick drooling down to soak into enjin’s sweats with every pulse of your clit. it’s almost too intense.

but enjin helps you ride it all out with sweet praises and even sweeter physical affections. he doesn’t try to control your rhythm, simply lets you grind your sopping cunt over him at your own pace.

and he waits only until you’ve stopped moving—sans the few tremors still assaulting your body—to manipulate his own in any way. it’s subtle; he simply shifts you back a few inches, as if he’s hyper aware of how sensitive you are. his eyes immediately down to the large dark patch you’ve painted over his crotch.

“well, fuck,” enjin chuckles, reaching a hand down between your bodies to palm at his bulge. “these sweats are ruined. ah, well. not that it matters. they’re about to get even messier, anyway. time to give ya what ya were asking for, so get those fucking shorts off, baby—”

safe to say, enjin will be investing in more sweats. he doesn’t care how many the two of you end up ruining.

a/n: if u saw any errors or typos, no you didn’t. fam i was tired & horny as shit so fr this might not be the best but fuck it we ball and enjin’s fucking hot and i need to ride his cock and face like yesterday please and thank yew

[ryoride]

Gojo definitely cried after losing his virginity, btw. Your cheek pressed to the muscle of his chest, snoring softly as he swept his thumb over your shoulder—he couldn't hold back the tears, sobbing quietly as it all hit him.

For once he wasn't just the strongest, or a sorcerer, a weapon, or whatever the fuck the elders expected from him; for the first time he found someone who just wanted him to be himself and wasn't scared of what they saw—seeing past the rough edges to the soft, adoring, vulnerable & intimate parts he himself hadn't seen till that moment.

[sadisticslut666]

Eiffel Tower w/ Higuroma and Nanami and no, we’re not talking about Paris

cw: explicit threesome, creampie, i felt horny pleez don’t judge me:3

Definition: The Eiffel Tower is classic threesome geometry: you on all fours (hands and knees), one pounding you from behind, the other kneeling/standing in front getting deepthroated.

The restaurant in Ginza is the kind of place Hiromi picks when he’s trying and, mostly failing, to pretend he’s not exhausted from another 14-hour day. You’re halfway through dessert, laughing at the way he’s dramatically narrating the latest courtroom disaster like it’s a true-crime podcast, when you feel someone stop at your table.

You look up. Nanami Kento. Blond hair still perfectly parted, suit still immaculate even at 10 p.m. Your stomach drops. Hiromi glances up too, then does a visible double-take. His tired eyes widen behind his glasses. “Kento?” “Hiromi?” Nanami’s voice is surprised. “I didn’t know you were in Ginza tonight.”

Hiromi stands immediately—old habit from college days, apparently and claps Nanami on the shoulder “It’s been—what, six years? Seven? Sit, sit. You remember—” He gestures to you, beaming like he’s just won the lottery.

Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. Your goddamn ex-boyfriend who Hiromi had no idea you’d dated. Nanami’s gaze slides to you. Politely nodding, “Of course.”

“Well,” he says, clapping his hands once, “this is fantastic. Small world. Kento, you’re not busy, right? Come back to our place. Catch up properly.” You stare at him like he’s lost his mind. Nanami hesitates then nods once. “If it’s no trouble.” Hiromi reassures him, already signaling for the check. “Anything to catch up with an old friend, right? No trouble at all.”

You’re going to fkning murder him.

Arriving home, the apartment door clicks shut behind the three of you. Hiromi immediately heads for the kitchen, shedding his jacket over the back of a chair, “Whiskey orrr whiskey?” he calls without turning around. You drop your bag on the entry table with more force than necessary. Nanami stays near the door for a second longer than he needs to, loosening his tie with the same deliberate calm he used to use when he was about to end a long day by ending things with you.

“Whiskey’s fine,” Nanami says. Hiromi pours three glasses without asking if anyone wants ice. He hands one to Nanami first then you. You all sit. You take the couch. Nanami takes the armchair across from you. Hiromi perches on the arm of the couch next to you, close enough that his thigh presses against your shoulder.

“So.” He swirls the glass lazily. “Kento. Still doing the corporate bullshit. “Or did you finally tell them to fuck off like we talked about senior year?” Nanami smiles, “Still employed. Still billing hours. You?”

“Still losing cases I should win and winning ones I shouldn’t.” Hiromi shrugs. “Same shit. You remember that class I had to retake four damn times?” “Oh—yeah,” he says, motioning toward you with a small lift of his chin. “You were in it. Same section. Same professor. You used to finish the hypotheticals before Ikeda even finished reading the facts. I sat behind you every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“Ikeda’s class. The one with the curved grading and the weekly hypotheticals that made half the section cry.” Hiromi clarifies. Nanami nods once. “That one.” Hiromi’s gaze snaps to you disbelieving, “You were in Ikeda’s morning section?”

You swallow. “Yeah.” staring into your whiskey like it might grow a mouth and save you.

Nanami continues, “We dated for a little over a year. Then I graduated early. Corporate offer came in. Timing didn’t work.” ‘GODFCKN DAMNIT KENTO why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut.’

Hiromi goes still. The room is so quiet you can hear the refrigerator hum. Hiromi takes a sip slowly. “You dated,” he repeats. Hiromi looks at you then sets his glass down with a soft clink. “So,” he says casually, “you two have history.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Hiromi—”

Hiromi lets out a short, incredulous laugh that has no humor in it. “I was in the afternoon section. Same professor. Same material. Same fucking hell. And you—” He points at you, then at Nanami, then back at you. “—were in the same goddamn classroom as him. Every Tuesday and Thursday. For a whole semester.” You open your mouth. Nothing helpful comes out. Nanami exhales through his nose—the same sound Hiromi makes. It’s uncanny. Hiromi’s eyes flick to you. “And then you met me.”

You glare. “You’re making this weird.” “I’m making it honest.” He leans back, arms crossed. “I mean, come on. My old college friend—who I haven’t seen in years—happens to be your ex. And neither of you thought to mention it until we’re all three sitting here.”

Nanami looks at you. “I thought you would have told him.” “I thought it was ancient history,” you mutter. Hiromi snorts. “Ancient history, sure. So, which one of us fucks you better?” Kento chokes on his drink, as you shoot your boyfriend a glare, “What has gotten into you?!”

“What’s gotten into me?” he echoes, “I don’t know—maybe the fact that my girlfriend’s ex is sitting in my living room, drinking my whiskey, and apparently sat behind her in the same goddamn Contracts class I used to come home and bitch about every single week. Maybe it’s the part where neither of you thought that was worth mentioning. Ever. Or maybe—” he tilts his head, eyes flicking between you and Nanami, “—it’s the part where I’m sitting here realizing the guy who used to steal my ramen and proofread my briefs is the same guy who used to fuck my girlfriend.”

Nanami sets his glass down carefully. “Hiromi,” he says gently, “That’s enough.” Hiromi’s laugh is bitter, “Is it? Because I’m just getting started.”

You stand up so fast the couch creaks. “Hiromi, stop.” He looks up at you angrily, “I’m not mad at you,” he says, “I am mad that you lied. For pulling this shit tonight. I’m mad that I invited him here like an idiot because I was happy to see an old friend. And I’m mad that—” He gestures vaguely at the three of you. “—this is happening. All of it.”

Nanami stands slowly. “I can go.” Hiromi’s head snaps toward him. “Sit the fuck down, Kento.”

Nanami doesn’t sit. He just stays standing, hands loose at his sides, waiting. Hiromi exhales, “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “That was out of line. The question. All of it.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t know how to process this without sounding like a jealous asshole.”

You soften despite yourself. “You’re not an asshole. You’re just… processing. Loudly.” He huffs a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. That tracks.”

Nanami goes to turn and leave, “I didn’t come here to cause problems,” he says. “And I’m not here to compete. If you want me to leave, I will. No hard feelings.” Hiromi studies him for a long beat. Then he looks at you again. “I don’t want either of you to leave.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his already wrecked hair. “You’re really gonna say that right now.”

You shrug, helpless. “It’s the truth.” He looks between you and Nanami like he’s weighing between jealousy, curiosity, maybe both and then his mouth curves into a smirk. “Alright then,” he says, sliding off the arm of the couch, settling properly beside you, one arm draping behind your shoulders, fingers brushing the nape of your neck as his eyes stay locked on Nanami.

“You still think about her?” Hiromi asks bluntly. Kento takes a sip before answering. “I don’t lie to myself about the past,” he says evenly. “Yes. Sometimes.”

Hiromi’s thumb strokes once against you, “And you?” He turns to you, voice dropping. “You still think about him?”

“Sometimes,” you admit softly, “Not like before. But… yeah.” Hiromi nods once, like that’s the permission he needed. He leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Then go ahead and fuck him.” Your cough turns into a startled laugh. “Go on, baby. I know you want to.” He urges you again. You hesitate before softly saying, “Ken… come here.”

Hiromi shifts, pulling you back against his chest so you’re half in his lap, legs parting instinctively as Nanami sinks to one knee between them. Kento’s hands settle on your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up inch by inch while Hiromi mouths along the side of your neck, “Look at her,” Hiromi murmurs against your skin, “Isn’t she so pretty.”

Nanami’s thumbs trace slow circles higher, higher, until they brush the damp lace between your legs. You arch without meaning to, a soft moan slipping out. Hiromi hums approvingly, one hand sliding down to cup your breast through the dress, thumb flicking over the nipple until it pebbles.

Kento hooks his hand through your wet panties, shoving them aside. The first swipe of his tongue is slow, like he’s relearning every inch. You gasp, hips jerking, but Hiromi bands an arm around your waist, holding you still. “Easy, baby,” he soothes, even as his other hand works the zipper of your dress down. “Let him taste what he’s been missing.”

Nanami groans against you, his tongue circles your clit once, twice, then dips lower, lapping at your pussy. Hiromi’s already hard against your ass through his slacks. His arm tightens around you, holding you open, “Tell him how much you missed this,” Hiromi whispers, “Tell him, baby. He’s listening.”

You start trembling and whimpering, “I—I missed your mouth, Ken. The way you… fuck, the way you always knew exactly—” Nanami doesn’t let you finish—just doubles down, sucking gently on your clit until your thighs tremble. Hiromi finally gets your dress off your shoulders, baring your breasts to the cool air of the apartment. He rolls one nipple between his fingers, pinching just hard enough to make you whine.

“Look at him,” Hiromi orders, “Look at how much he wants this.” You do. Nanami’s eyes are half-lidded and focused, blond hair falling forward as he works you over with devastating patience. When he slides two fingers inside making you whimper, back bowing. Hiromi laughs softly, “There it is. That sound I love.”

He shifts behind you, freeing himself from his pants with one hand while the other keeps you pinned. His cock presses hot and heavy against your lower back as he strokes himself lazily, watching Nanami devour you. “Think you can take both of us?” Hiromi asks, lips at your ear. “Like we talked about that one night. Remember my pretty girl?” Your brain short-circuits. “Yes—fuck, yes.” Nanami pulls back just enough to speak, lips shiny. “Hell yes.”

Hiromi nods in agreenment, before pressing a kiss beneath your ear. “You heard him, sweetheart. He’s in.”

Nanami rises smoothly to his feet, shedding his jacket, The metallic clink is obscenely loud in the quiet room. Hiromi helps you turn, maneuvering you until you’re facing the back of the couch, knees sinking into the cushions, ass presented. “Hands here,” Hiromi murmurs, guiding your palms to the backrest. “Keep them there unless one of us says otherwise.” You nod, breath hitching.

He walks around behind you, slapping your ass as Kento appears in front of you. “Hi, pretty girl.” He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Open.” You do, tongue flat, and he slides in slow—filling your mouth inch by inch until your lips stretch around him. The weight of him on your tongue makes you moan around the shaft; he exhales sharply through his nose, hand sliding into your hair to guide the rhythm.

Behind you, Hiromi lines up, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave prints, the other spreading you open. He pushes in with one long, steady thrust, your back arching with a muffled cry vibrating around Kento's cock.

“Fuck,” Higuruma rasps, “So tight after all that arguing earlier. You were waiting for this, weren’t you?” You can’t answer—mouth full—but you push back against him, clenching deliberately. He groans, hips snapping forward harder, setting a brutal pace that rocks you onto Nanami’s length.

His control slips a fraction. Hiromi’s thrusts drive you forward forcing more of Nanami’s cock past your lips until the head bumps the back of your throat. You gag softly, eyes watering, swirling your tongue under the ridge just the way you remember he liked. The two of them find rhythm without speaking: one pulls out as the other pushes in, seesawing you between them until your whole body is shaking.

“Goddamn,” Hiromi growls, fingers digging deeper into your hips as he watches the way your throat works around Nanami. “Look at that. Taking him like you never forgot how.” He begins thrusting deeper, balls slapping against you with every snap. You whine around Nanami’s cock—drool slipping down your chin—as Higuruma angles just right. Kento tightens his grip in your hair, fucking your mouth while Higuruma rails you. Nanami pulls out just enough to let you gasp, strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip. “Words,” he says calmly. “Tell us how it feels, baby.”

You manage a whimpered, “F-fuck—full—don’t stop—” Higuruma’s rhythm stutters at your voice. They sync up—Higuruma slamming deep from behind, Nanami sliding back into your mouth. The position holds: you bridged between them, body rocking with every thrust, throat and cunt stuffed. Nanami’s thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that slipped free when you took him especially deep. “Still so good at this. Always were.”

Hiromi laughs possessively, “Yeah? Tell me something I don’t know, Kento.”

Nanami’s eyes flick to Hiromi over the top of your head, “She used to come untouched just from sucking me off,” he says, “First time it happened she cried—thought something was wrong with her. Took me half an hour of coaxing to get her to admit how close she was.”

Hiromi’s thrusts turned punishing, that comment clearly hit a nerve. “Is that right?” Hiromi rasps, one hand sliding up your spine to fist lightly in your hair, tilting your head back so Nanami can sink even deeper. “You never told me that, baby. Keeping secrets from me now?”

You can’t answer—mouth too full, throat working frantically—but your body does: a fresh gush of wetness before you come first shaking hard, muffled screams around Kento as your walls flutter and clamp down on Hiromi as his pace turns erratic. “Fuck—fuck, that’s it—squeeze me just like that—”

Nanami pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop, hand stroking himself fast, eyes locked on your wrecked expression. “Where do you want it?” he asks, voice strained. You don’t even have to think. “On me,” you rasp, voice hoarse. “Both of you.”

Hiromi swears viciously as he pulls out at the last second, flips you onto your back so fast the room spins, then straddles your hips. They stroke themselves in tandem—Hiromi’s hand flying over his cock, Nanami’s slower but no less desperate—until they both come.

Hiromi comes first, hot stripes painting your stomach, your breasts, one pulse landing across your nipple. Nanami follows seconds later, spilling over your chest, your collarbone, a few drops catching your chin when you tilt your head back for him. Hiromi exhales roughly, dropping down beside you, pulling you half into his lap before reaches for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and drapes it gently over your lower half.

Hiromi snorts softly. “Ever the gentleman even when he’s fucked my girlfriend. Classic Kento.” Nanami’s mouth quirks—just the tiniest hint of a smile. “Someone has to be.”

You laugh, weak and shaky, head lolling against Hiromi’s shoulder. “You two are ridiculous.”

Nanami disappears into the hallway without a word, returning a minute later with a damp washcloth and a glass of water. Classic fuckin’ Kento, what a sweetie. He hands you the glass first. You take it with trembling fingers, sip slowly, grateful for the cool slide down your raw throat. Then he kneels again between your spread thighs and gently wipes the mess from your stomach, your breasts, your collarbones with slow careful strokes.

Hiromi watches the whole thing with half-lidded eyes, one arm still slung around your shoulders. “You always this sweet after you come on someone else’s girl, Kento?” Nanami doesn’t look up from his task. “Only when she asks nicely.”

You choke on a laugh that turns into a soft groan when the cloth brushes a particularly sensitive spot. “Stop. Both of you.” Hiromi smirks, reaches over to take the washcloth from Kento’s hand, and finishes the job himself dragging the damp fabric across your nipple until it pebbles again under the attention.

You look back up at Kento, about to ask him not to leave before Hiromi beats you to it. “You should stay,” he says, “Since it’s already so late y’know.”

Kento looks up, eyes flicking from Hiromi to you. You reach out before you can overthink it, fingers curling loosely around Nanami’s wrist. “Please,” you add softly. “Stay.” He brushes your hair to the side of your face, “Alright, of course. I’ll stay.”

Hiromi smirks lazily, already reaching for the half-empty whiskey glasses on the table. “Good. Because we’re not done catching up.” You bury your face in Hiromi’s neck to hide your blushing.

Whatta small world, indeed.

a/n: several pussy pleasure breaks were taken during the writing of this and I j wanted to share that ALSO credits to @owwllly for this masterpiece of art they drew

[yailuxe]

BUY ONE, GET ONE FREE

overview: in which emo!choso shockingly agrees to wear the panties you got for him.

cw: afab!reader, sexually explicit content, sub/dom dynamics, dom!reader, sub!choso, lingerie, bondage, denial/edging, ruined orgasm, sexual overstimulation, slight dacryphilia.

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble about five paragraphs long based on this fanart, yet here we are, 2.5K words later sigh...

Choso always found it funny whenever people implied that he was a bad influence on you. 

Perhaps it was the fact that he was often dressed in black from head to toe, with tattoos coming down in dark, inky spirals over the thick bands of his arms and cutting a line over the bridge of his nose that gave them that impression. Or maybe it was the innumerable piercings that littered his body, along with his heavy use of eyeliner and his preference of putting his shoulder-length hair up into two spiky buns. 

His style was at complete odds with yours and the first time you met, that’s what drew him in to you. Your short ruffle skirt followed the sway of your hips when you walked, as if it were waving at him, beckoning him. And Choso, like a helpless sailor caught by a siren’s song, gave chase.

In the beginning, you were the perfect, shy girl nextdoor. You knew exactly when to blush under the heat of his stare, when to avert your gaze in deference and when to offer him a saccharine smile. You spoke to him in that sweetened voice of yours, so unlike the husk in his own, and you shuddered like a helpless butterfly when he hugged you. However what he loved most of all was how you would dreamily sigh whenever he kissed you, as if he had stolen your breath away with every pass of his lips over yours.

But Choso soon realised that it was all an act. 

He figured out that was how you lured people into your clutches, and once you sank your claws in, it would be too late. Even now, figurative claws were made real in the form of your soft hands and your nails lightly scratching over his chest, promising to ruin him for everyone else.

The woman above him was so far removed from the girl he met years ago that it made him breathless. And as your hips ground down onto his, he still couldn’t force a single puff of air into his lungs.

You had come back to the apartment after a long day of shopping, giving him a whole show of everything you bought. Then you came out clad in nothing but a pink lace set that had him sitting upright. No matter how many pieces you bought, his reaction to you would never change.

He had been so focused on your body, on its very outline as well as the curves and dips the lingerie barely hid, that he didn’t notice the tiny bag you were holding at first. You had to hold it in front of your bust, which he had been gawking at, before he even acknowledged it, recognising the logo from the lingerie store you frequented. Your lips curled as you gave him an innocuous smile.

“This one’s yours.”

A buy one get one free sale, you had told him. 

He looked in the bag, and his eyebrows skyrocketed when he saw a matching set sitting prettily inside. Whereas yours was pink, the one you bought him was in black and he hated that the thoughtfulness of the gift in his favourite colour made his heart beat a little faster.

Choso had never been a saint, but being with you was like discovering new levels of debauchery with each passing day. 

He put wearing the bra on ice for now; however, to your surprise and extreme delight, getting him to wear the panties didn't take a lot of convincing.

They fit snug around his hips, and the dark fabric popped out against his skin, the same way his tattoos did, making him look paler. He looked good in them. Would've looked cute if it weren’t for the raging erection he was sporting. 

His cock stood at full mast, dragging against the thin lace of the panties, spoiling them, and pressing against his lower abdomen. He was leaking and hard, painfully so, barely able to stop the shudders wracking through his body. 

“You’re so pretty like this, Cho.” You murmured as your eyes, which you used to avert often, hungrily devoured every inch of skin they passed over. They looked dark, and your pupils were blown out so wide they almost seemed black. 

Choso laughed, and he would have dragged his hands over his face if they weren’t tied up. You never half-assed anything, so you had taken one of the velvety pink ribbons that you used to tie your hair and wrapped it around his wrists. Knotting it in a pretty bow at the front.

A present.

“I’m not sure whether I’m being punished or spoiled.” His words tumbled into a gasp when your pussy pressed harder against him. Your lace panties meshed together, the friction causing an insufferably muted sensation that had his hips bucking up into you. His skin prickled when you moaned, chest practically puffing up in male pride at being the source of your pleasure.

“If I were punishing you,” You leaned down and brushed your lips over his in a soft kiss. “You’d know.”

The truth behind that statement had him sighing against your lips before capturing them in a heated kiss. And you let him, just this once because you really were spoiling him. You let him keep kissing you as your hand passed over his, which were bound against his stomach, and snuck under the waistband of the panties. A whimper passed through his lips when the cool press of your fingertips made contact with his length, and you wantonly swallowed it.

Your hand wrapped around him, bopping over his cock at an agonisingly slow pace that made him break the kiss. 

Shit maybe he was being punished.

“Don’t do this to me.” He begged with his forehead against yours and hips inching up, chasing each flick of your hand. When you smiled into his mouth, he knew you were teasing him on purpose. “Go faster.”

Your hand slid up to the head of his cock and tightened around it. It spasmed between your fingers and you felt his precum dribble onto them. It felt so hot and thick that it was like you were in a trance as you brought your hand up to your mouth and licked. Choso’s interlocked hands trembled as he watched you and he bit his lip, teeth scraping over his lip ring. He wished he could reach out to you. Wished he could weave a hand into your hair and hold you to him so he could taste himself on your tongue.

“Please.”

He didn’t even know what he was begging for anymore. He just knew that he needed you, and since you were in a giving mood (for now), you obliged. Your hand circled around him again, now moving faster over his cock as he squirmed under you.

Choso was blissed out, his eyes shut as he felt pressure building in the pit of his stomach, just begging to be let out. And just as he narrowly grasped the beginnings of his orgasm, you stopped. He let out a weak cry and perhaps you truly were the sadist he always accused you of being because you felt your own panties dampen at the sound. 

“You hate me, don’t you?” Choso asked with his brows knitted together, pain etched onto his face. You let out an airy sort of laugh and he couldn’t help but smile, even if it was at his expense.

“You know I love you.” Your hand went to his cock again, picking up right where you left off. “It’s just that you were about to cum without permission and you know I don’t like that.”

For a moment there, an edge hardened your voice, and he didn't think it was possible but your eyes darkened even more. Both excitement and trepidation stirred in his gut at the fact that you had found a way to remind him who was really in charge here.

“I’m sorry.” He gasped out, long lashes fluttering as his eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head again. His hips were lifting off the bed once more and you placed your free hand over it, thumbing the delicate material of the garment as you watched him slowly lose himself again. 

“It’s okay.” You said, but your tone suggested it definitely wasn’t okay. Choso’s suspicions were proven right because when his breath hitched, and he asked to cum, you smiled down at him. Teeth sharp and cutting.

“No.”

“What? Baby, please,” Even when he saw white, he tried to hold off as best as he could. So much so, his bound hands attempted to push your hand away so he wouldn’t cum, but you didn’t allow that. “Mmm, can’t hold it.”

His teeth caught his lower lip and they cut into the soft flesh. 

“No.” You said again, and this time were was nothing but amusement in your voice. Your pace picked up and he whimpered, eyes clenching shut again. 

“Can’t…fuck! Fuck!” He twitched in your hand and you immediately let go. Whiney cries came out of Choso’s mouth as he came all over his stomach, spurting some cum onto the panties and some shooting all the way to his chest. You had cruelly brought him to the edge then made him fall over without that final push. 

God, he hated how much he loved you. 

“Poor baby. You never know when to stop, do you?” You tutted as you adjusted yourself on his lap properly. With a hook of your fingers, you moved your panties to the side and did the same with his. You lifted your hips, positioning yourself over his cock and not even caring that it was still twitching weakly, small beads of cum spilling over the head as you did so.

“W-wait. Give me a second,” you sank down and watched in fascination when a tear dripped out the corner of his eye, trickling down his temple and leaving behind a small black streak from his eyeliner. You paused, concern pinching your brow as you placed a hand to his chest.  

“Cho, are you okay?”

“Don’t stop.” He blurted out between a sharp gasp. When he inhaled deeply, his stomach caved with the action, abs hardening. You still didn’t move, so he bucked his hips up into you, and sweat began to bead across his forehead as he blinked up at you. “Please baby. Please don’t stop.”

You don’t think anyone could deny him when he begged like that, you certainly couldn't. So you placed your hands on his chest and pushed yourself upright. You rocked your hips slowly, feeling his cock bully itself into you. It didn’t matter how long you two had been together, your walls still squeezed around him like a vice, first struggling to take him then holding him there like they would never let him go.

Choso looked down where the two of you connected, past the frilly pink and black panties you had pushed aside and to the sight of his cock disappearing between your folds. He stared right at your neglected clit and realised the hint of frustration behind your moans was probably due to that fact. A slick, creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, just where your arousal and his cum mingled, and an obscene squelch sounded with each smack of your hips. You started bouncing on him harder, moaning with your head thrown back when your fingers finally smoothed over your clit. 

“Oh fuck.” You huffed as you shuddered on top of him, pleasure licking at your spine as you got closer to the edge. And you weren’t the only one. 

Choso’s eyes were glassy as he looked up at you, and you tipped your head down at him, completely transfixed with how cute his tear-stained face looked. He could only manage shallow thrusts, hips twitching with overstimulation and feeling his sanity unravel like a frayed piece of thread as his tip bopped against a soft, spongy spot inside of you. His cock pumped into you and he willed his eyes to flicker between your face and your tits. He groaned at how good they looked in the bra; it didn't even come close to how good they looked bare, but this wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. 

Choso’s muscles tensed, and he licked his lips before speaking again.

“Are you gonna let me cum this time?” His eyes bounced all over your body, and he hissed as he watched your fingers speed up over your clit. You took a few seconds to think his question over, but it felt like an eternity to him. And his pathetic whimper cut through the crude sounds echoing in the room. The sound embarsssingly high and utterly ruined.

“Gonna b-break if you say no again,” he continued as his head turned to the side and the veins in his neck bulged out. When he spoke again, you feared it may be too late. He wasn’t going to break because he was already in shambles. “Please.”

You took another second, waiting until you were close too, then you nodded. 

Now, Choso could have easily broken out the flimsy ribbon you decided to use as a makeshift rope, but he had never been one to ruin your fun, so instead he raised his bound hands up, up, then over your head. They went behind you and rested at the small of your back, then he tugged you towards him. Your chests met with a soft grunt from him, and as your bodies kept moving together, filled to the brim with tension and seconds away from being tipped over, he glanced down at your mouth. 

“Kiss me.” It would’ve sounded like an order if his voice didn’t break off halfway. “Please? Need you—”

You sealed your mouth over his and it must have been the last push he needed. Choso sobbed into your mouth as he came inside you and you followed right behind him. You convulsed while his muscled arms remained around you, whispering ‘thank you’ over and over again as he held you against him. It was only when you caught your breath that you pulled back to look at him.

He had his eyes closed but he cracked one open to peek at you. As soon as your eyes met, the two of you laughed. 

“You’re gonna kill me one day.” He said with a groan as you eased his cock out of you. You inclined your head and delivered a tender peck to his lips. Then started to unravel the ribbon around his wrists and ran your thumb over the marks it left behind. 

“I promise to hold off until we get that bra on, if that helps?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled you towards him again, trapping you in his arms and he nuzzled his face against your neck. 

It was truly laughable that he was thought to be the bad influence, when all he did was wait with bated breath for what that sexy brain of yours would whip up for the two of you next time.

A/N: Just realised this is the second bondage fic of the week. I might have a problem hehe…anyway big thank you to @rambld for beta reading. Go check out her work if you haven’t already, promise you won’t regret it!

Thanks for reading. Love peaches🤍

[yailuxe]

୨୧ — SPOILS OF WAR

overview: emperor!sukuna who plays favourites with his concubines, finds out that someone else is taking care of the ones he’s neglecting. a late night stroll uncovers the culprit as one of his lower ranking mistresses and he’s fuming…and maybe a little jealous too?

cw: mdni, trueform sukuna, smut, emperor x concubine, voyeurism, self indulgent reader, some wlw action, finger sucking, oral (f receiving), riding his stomach mouth…mouth stomach idk, hands free orgasm (m), cowgirl, very light blood play, begging, light choking, 4.8k words

inspired by a drabble I lost half way through :(

Patience was a virtue.

And unfortunately, Ryomen Sukuna didn’t have any to speak of. 

He expanded his territories indiscriminately, seizing neighbouring empires that took a little too long to agree to his terms at the drop of a hat. Men who refused surrender were reduced to bloody pulps, and rulers beheaded faster than they could open their mouths and ask for forgiveness for making him wait too long.

The only time Sukuna showed a morsel of patience was with his concubines, and even that was wearing thin lately. 

It seemed there was an unexpected infestation of vermin in his palace. A skittery little mouse was roaming all over the place, and while it started off by taking small nips at his patience, it has now made itself at home. Overcome by gluttony, it overindulges and swallows his benevolence whole. And even when it has more than enough, it goes on to chip away at his most prized possession.

His concubines.

Contrary to popular belief, all of them came to him willingly, and they all knew that they were allowed to leave anytime they wanted. Some women came from impoverished kingdoms, where monarchs took most of their subjects’ money and prettily dressed up their corruption as ‘tax’. These women figured living in a palace with an abundance of food and clothing was better than a rickety shack that threatened to blow away with every thunderstorm. Others came from foreign lands, drawn in by whispers of an emperor in the east, who spoiled his women rotten with all his riches. A good handful even were royal and noblewomen who fled their kingdoms to escape forced marriages with men who were often four times their age. 

Harem standing at a whopping five hundred and fifty-five women, Sukuna was self-aware enough to know that some wouldn’t be interested in him. While all came willingly, some seemed perfectly content with enjoying all the luxuries being his concubine offered without ever having to be in the same room as him. This hardly offended the emperor because, truth be told, he had favourites too, and it didn’t matter how much stamina he had, trying to get through five hundred women would’ve sent him to an early grave with his cheeks sunken in from exhaustion. 

The only rule he had was that he expected all the concubines to be loyal. The irony of that rule wasn’t lost on him, but he was a possessive fucker, and he knew he would kill whoever touched what was his in the blink of an eye.

Or so he thought he would.

Fending off too many mosquitoes to count, Sukuna decided to take a late-night walk to clear his head. His physician told him it would help him clear his mind and relax, but after missing the pesky insects one too many times and smacking himself all over, he decides this isn’t for him. 

When he finds himself stalking through the Rose Palace, he slows down to stare at the pristine white building with intricate red accents all over. This palace housed the lower-ranking concubines, some of whom he had only met once, if at all, and he realised it had been a while since his last visit. Knocking himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, Sukuna turns to walk back the way he came. Relaxation be damned, he couldn’t afford to deal with more of these mosquitoes and get lost too.  

But his sharp ears pick up on a sound that has him freezing in his tracks. It is so late that the courts are empty and all the women are fast asleep in all their quarters. So, hearing a fervent curse whispered into the night, low and pleasure-filled, followed by the moan of a name, is shocking. Head tilting, Sukuna’s legs have him turning towards the sound instead of leaving, doubling back to a room just at the end of the row. The window is open, and through the slip between the curtains, he sees it.

The indisputable entanglement of two women pressed together in a messy web of soft legs and wandering hands. Their chests are plastered together so tightly that not even the thinnest sheet of paper could hope to wedge in between them. One woman is completely naked, and while she looks like a dreamy vision as moonlight falls over her skin and marks a white outline around her silhouette, Sukuna’s scarlet gaze shoots to the other woman instead. You. 

Clad in a silky nightgown, your hair falls over your shoulders, curls and waves kissing along your collarbone almost as feverishly as the woman on your lap pecks at every sliver of skin she can get to. You have an arm looped around the woman’s slim waist, keeping her on your lap, and you watch her through low-lidded lashes while she grinds down on your fingers. She whispers a name, presumably yours, and Sukuna would have found it pretty if the sight before him didn’t fill him with unimaginable rage.

It seems he has just found the vermin that has been running amok. 

The woman moans unintelligibly, and you capture her lips in a heated kiss before pulling back to whisper, “You can say it, Emika. No one’s gonna hear you.”

Oh, he begs to differ.

“Yours.” The woman, Emika, whimpers with her mouth gaping and hips picking up to buck into your hand faster.

“Hmm?”

“I—I’m yours.” 

Emika’s words are uttered with her right on the precipice of an orgasm, and a better man would have left a long time ago, but unfortunately for her, that wasn’t Sukuna. So, with two long strides, he’s at the door, and a burly arm shoots up to land a heavy blow against the flimsy block of wood. There’s a shrill scream when the door swings open, and it bangs against the wall in a loud crackle, just shy of falling right off its hinges.

Sukuna steps over the threshold, and he watches as the brunette woman’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. She grabs a nearby blanket off the bed, wrapping it around her body with trembling hands before coming to kneel at his feet.

Or at least Sukuna thinks that’s what she does, because since he walked into the room, his blood-slick eyes haven’t left yours. You’re still sitting prettily on the bed. Arms propped out behind you and the thin strap of your nightgown falls off your shoulder, teasing the curve of your breast, as you meet his gaze head-on. 

The longer he stares, the more the infuriatingly alluring smirk on your lips broadens. That look is enough for him to know who the guilty party is here.

“Your majesty.” Sukuna startles a little, as if he forgot the other woman was still there, and he finally glances down at her. At complete odds with you lounging on the bed, Emika’s head nearly touches the floor with how far she bows. “We weren’t expecting you.”

I bet. He mentally grouses.

“Am I interrupting something?” Sukuna sees the woman shudder, as if bearing the weight of the heavy baritone in his voice was too difficult a task. 

“No! Not at all. We were just uh—” she allows herself to meet his stare for half a second before glancing away again. “Just talking.”

A snicker sounds from the four-poster bed, and Emika whips her head to the side, lips thinning like she’s ordering you to be quiet.

“Talking? With your clothes off?”

She turns back to the emperor, and her face is flushed bright red. “I erm…we—”

“Get out.”

Emika jerks like she has just been electrocuted, but stands up, nonetheless. She takes a few steps to the door, then, as if remembering something, turns towards you and softly calls out your name, as if urging you to follow her, but Sukuna merely shakes his head.

“No, just you.”

There’s no movement, and with a glance over his shoulder, he sees the young woman frozen on the spot with her lips pursed as if she might stand her ground, but with a warning flash of his ruby reds, she is hobbling out the door like a kicked dog. Sukuna’s eyes meet yours again, and you finally pull the gown down your legs to hide supple bits of skin that both sets of his traitorous eyes lapped away at. 

“Your majesty.” You greet with a slight incline of your head, moving as if you were going to approach him, but choose to sit at the edge of the bed at the last minute. The lack of deference has him bristling.

“You aren’t bowing.”

“Weak knees. My humblest apologies.” You explain half-heartedly, and when you cross your legs, he once again has to wrench his eyes off their smooth expanse and back to your face. Sukuna definitely hadn’t met you yet. Sometimes he received brief descriptions of potential concubines, and he would wave them off before going back to his work. After all, it wasn’t like he would acquaint himself with every single one of them. 

But perhaps if he had paid more attention during your arrival, he would’ve caught you before you had made yourself so…comfortable. 

Remembering your name from Emika, he drawls it out, tests it on his tongue like it was an unfamiliar taste of exotic wine, and he was trying to decide whether he liked it or not. Being called by name makes you perk up a little.

“Do you mind explaining what I just walked in on?” You don’t answer right away, and it makes the last bit of his patience dry up, words now coming out as a low growl. “I asked you a question.”

“I heard you.” While he’s barely keeping his temper at bay, you’re completely calm and play with the threads that came loose from the bedding, as if they were more interesting than the entire conversation was. More interesting than he was. “I was just wondering how much detail you would like me to go into.”

The side of Sukuna’s face scrunches, and at his sides, all twenty fingers almost follow the movement, nearly balling into fists. But with how calm you were, he decides he could not be the one to break and lose his temper first. He takes a step closer to you, and finally, he sees the corners of your eyes crinkle as you narrow your eyes at him the tiniest bit.

So, you did have some self-preservation.

“When I first heard the rumours that someone was bedding my women, I thought it was one of my soldiers or maybe a cook. Hell, it could have even been a eunuch who had somehow evaded castration, but it’s you, isn’t it?” Your back straightens when he stops a few paces away from you, and yes, he knew for sure that it was you. “What makes you think you can take my women?”

Your lips purse for a moment, eyes shifting to and fro as you look for a good answer to give him. Then…“May I speak freely for the remainder of this conversation, your majesty?”

That elicits a sharp cackle from him.

“Why bother asking? You never needed my permission to do anything before.” You only arched an eyebrow at him, as if he were a toddler whose tantrum you were waiting out. “Speak.”

Your hair bounced as you readjusted on the bed, and without even knowing you, Sukuna could tell from the condescending gleam in your eyes that he wasn’t going to like what you were about to say. 

“You have half a thousand concubines and only pay attention to a select few, twenty on a good day. It’s hardly fair that the rest of us are expected to stay celibate just because you can’t keep up.”

What.

“Excuse me?”

“The way I see it,” you continue as if he hasn’t spoken. “You should be thanking me for keeping the ladies entertained in your stead.”

“Thank you?” he splutters with his voice the highest it’s ever been. 

“You’re welcome.”

Something between a laugh and a scoff comes from his chest, half incensed, half disbelieving as he turns his back to you. Hands go to rake over his face, passing over the hardened casing that covered the right side. A moment passed as he gathered himself, then, when he was sure he wouldn’t throttle you, he turned around again.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t get to come into my house, break my one rule, then tell me I should be thanking you for it.” His words wipe the shit-eating grin off your face. “All the women know that if they’re unhappy, they can leave at anytime. I’m not forcing anyone to be here!”

“You know full well that most of them can’t go back to the conditions they lived in before!” Had anyone else raised their voice at him, they would have been cut down where they stood. But Sukuna is so thrilled that you are showing an emotion other than cool indifference, he barely pays it any mind. You stand from the bed and approach him with agility that tells him you in fact, did not have weak knees.

“You live in my house. In my kingdom,” eyes red hot as a blazing sun, sneered down at you as if they were promising to burn you to a crisp. “You follow my rules.”

Glossy lips purse as you stare up at him for a few long moments. Then that carefully blank curtain falls over your face again. “Fine. Then I should like to leave.”

You turned towards your vanity, and Sukuna only saw the piece of paper lying on it now. “I was going to hand in my resignation letter later this week, but seeing that you’re already here—”

“No.”

Feet faltering, you pause, and your shoulders work when you take a deep breath before turning around.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I won’t sign it.” Sharp canines glint as he gives you a sardonic smile.

“But you just said we could leave whenever we wanted.”

“I said my concubines could leave whenever they wanted.” The distance between the two of you closes again, and he isn’t sure who stepped closer this time. “You are a thief.”

“A thief?” You sputtered with your brows raised so high they nearly touched your hairline. “With all due respect your majesty, you have a nasty habit of making these women sound like possessions rather than people.”

“They’re mine.” He says, not even denying your comment, and when you scowl, he has to crane his head down so he can get in your face. “You think you can come into my house, eat my food, wear clothes bought with my money,” he lifts his hand, and a sharp nail catches the strap of your nightgown where it hangs off your shoulder, and tugs it up to its rightful place. “Fuck my women, and I’ll just let you leave?”

You glance down at his hand hovering over the curve of your shoulder, his nails so long they could puncture through skin with ease if he wanted to.

“You can’t keep me here against my will.”

The boisterous laughter that echoes through the room almost makes you flinch. 

“Who’s gonna stop me, huh? You?”

Your lips tremble, and he preens, thinking he has finally gotten through to you. But instead of the ugly cry he was expecting, a smile curls your lips, and you take a step forward, so close he can smell the scent of jasmine and something more edible on your skin.

“Well in that case, Lady Kyomi has been staring at me a little too closely these days. If I’m staying, I might as well pay her a visit.”

Sukuna didn’t make a habit of harming people who were a lot frailer than him. He liked the dizzying thrill of heading right into battle with combatants who were on par with him. And swords, claws and teeth would meet in a frenzy of blood and gore. 

This meant that he never lifted a hand against a woman. That is, until today, when a hand closes around your neck and pushes you back until you’re pressed against a nearby wall.

Your breath hitches.

He isn’t choking you, not really, but the threat of it, as his massive hand spans over your throat with ease and sharp nails drag along your skin, is definitely there. Sukuna could handle a lot of things, but you threatening to go after the very woman in the running to be his empress consort was out of bounds. 

“Do you wish to see me lose my temper?”

His voice was scarily low now, and the tip of his nose brushed against yours.

“You mean you haven’t already?”

“Don’t test me, little girl.” Your nose scrunches, obviously not a fan of that nickname. With his grip on your neck, he tips your head up higher so you can look at him. “You are to stay away from Kyomi, Emika and all the other concubines you have bedded. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” You say that a little too quickly for it to be convincing, and when you move into his hand around your neck instead of cowering away, he knows you aren’t going to give in so easily. “But just between us, your majesty, tell me which upsets you more, the fact that I fucked them or that I didn’t fuck you?”

A beat passes before Sukuna laughs, long and loud right in your face. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Your cock is pressing into my thighs.” You mused, and his shoulders tensed. 

Truth be told, he has been hard since he eavesdropped on you and Emika earlier. And as much as it pained him to admit it, the longer he spoke to you, the higher the tent beneath his robes pitched itself.  

“You know,” A manicured nail skirts over the opening of his robes over his bare chest and his cock twitches. “If you had just asked, I would have considered letting you join.”

Your sheer audacity has him at a loss once more.

“I wouldn’t need your permission.” He replies through clenched teeth and tries to hold his breath so your perfume wouldn’t cloud his mind. This is probably how you got people wrapped around your finger. He thought. A teasing touch, the coaxing pull of your sweetened scent and most of all your soft, taunting voice, and they would be trapped before they even knew it. 

“Oh, but you’d want it.”

Sukuna’s hand flexes around your throat, and a beat passes with him just panting inches from your mouth. Whenever the emperor couldn’t purge his temper through bloodshed, he often turned to fucking. And it seems he chose the latter as he tugs you forward and seals his lips over yours. 

You flinch at the force of the kiss, breath coming out as a soundless huff like he just knocked the air right out of your lungs. Your hands come up to rest on his thick biceps, but you don’t push him away just yet. 

Sukuna’s tongue traces over the plush seam of your lips before it plunges into your mouth, and he stiffens at the taste that hits him. Minty freshness, remnants of hibiscus tea and a little fainter, the unmistakable tartness of pussy. A fang nips at your soft lip, and he relishes the yelping sound you make as he greedily laps at a bead of blood that flows out. He wrenches himself away from you, eyes burning as he meets your gaze. 

“You put your mouth on her?” He seethes, and you only peer up at him through long lashes, a self-assured smile firmly in place on your lips. “You are infuriating.”

Hands grasp your waist and pull you off the wall and up against him. And as he leads you to the bed, your feet never touch the floor again.

Belatedly, you start to wonder whether you have bitten off more than you can chew. 

The bedsprings whine under the weight of the burly emperor lying on them. The man is made of pure muscle, and the inky black markings that cut lines down his tanned skin bulge with every movement he makes.  Four hulking arms lay at his sides, flexing impatiently as he tries to keep himself from pulling you onto him. And while he waits, two sets of eyes, four total, glare at you through his coral hair and obsessively follow you the way a predator would stalk its next meal. 

“Since you enjoy eating pussy so much, let’s see how you like being on the receiving end.” Sukuna had said a while ago, and while your heart thrashed excitedly in your chest at the prospect of sitting on his mouth, you soon realised he wasn’t talking about the one on his face. 

You could only gawk as washboard abs quivered, then gaped, giving way to a large mouth that cut through the centre of his stomach. The mouth gave you a mischievous grin, canines razor sharp, before it licked its lips in anticipation. Between that and the monstrosities, yes, monstrosities plural, that lay heavy between his legs, you aren’t sure where to look. 

“What are you waiting for?”

Your eyes bounce up to his face, and you shift a little on the foot of the bed before moving on all fours to crawl towards him. A crimson gaze burns a trail through you when you go to his side instead of immediately straddling him. You tuck your hair behind your ear before you lean down and kiss him. Sukuna’s arms snake under you, and you gasp when he forcibly pulls you on top of him. Settling on his lap, he makes sure the kiss never breaks as he sucks your lip into his mouth, chasing the taste of iron he tasted earlier.

A tongue licks a stripe up your lips, and you feel a heated breath blow against your stomach before his other mouth lolls out against your skin. You shiver above him, hands braced beside his head and almost buckling from the sensation pooling low in your belly.

“Sit on it.” Sukuna commands, breath hot against your lips, but you don’t move. A low groan sounds when you pepper a soft kiss on his mouth, and he pulls back to ask again.

“Let me taste you.”

Your dark eyes clash with his, and he blurts the word out before he can stop himself. The word he has never had to say to anyone before.

“Please.”

An emperor begging a concubine? No one would believe you if you told them. But you oblige. Straightening on his lap and moving forward until you’re hovering just above the large mouth that literally drools with your cunt so close to it. 

Hands grope at your hips, then lower you slowly.  

Whereas Sukuna is taking his time, his mouth didn’t seem to get the memo because a disarming kiss is delivered to your clit before a fat tongue lolls out and swipes a lavish lick up your slit. You forward jerk, and strong hands clamp around your form tighter, holding then pushing you further onto the relentless mouth that laps away at every drop of your slick. 

“Oh.” You huff out with a little shock colouring your tone. 

You look at Sukuna’s face again, and you see his lips gape as a light glaze covers his eyes, almost like he can taste you on both mouths. Your hips roll against his stomach when his thick tongue thrusts into your cunt, and moan slips through as your gummy walls clamp around the muscle.

“Look who can’t keep up now,” Sukuna says, referring to when you told him that you were doing him a favour by picking up the slack of tending to his ‘neglected’ concubines. 

Your hips slow, trying to lift off his mouth to give yourself a break, but he doesn’t let you, of course. And you’re not sure what possesses you, but your fingers, the same ones you had inside Emika a few minutes ago, go to his lips and slot into his mouth. 

“I keep up well enough.” You know he tastes her essence from the way his red pinpoint eyes narrow to slits, and you smile at him. “Sweet, isn’t it?”

Teeth bite down on your fingers, and you mewl at the ghost of pain that follows. His fangs pricked your skin again, and he sucks the digits into his mouth with a heavy groan. You feel his body move beneath you, and when you glance over your shoulder to see his hips rutting into the air and both his cocks leaking with precum, your tongue instinctively wets your lips.

Maybe one day you’d be brave enough to take him in your mouth too…wait, why were you thinking about that as if you’d let this happen again?

Sukuna is drooling around your fingers and on your cunt as he alternates between diving into its tight hole and sucking your clit into his mouth. When you feel his hips shudder pathetically under you, followed by the warm spray of cum against the small of your back, you almost want to make fun of him for cumming untouched. But you can’t because you’re not that far behind either. A few more shaky rolls of your hips, and he keeps you plastered to him as you tremble with your release too.

You’re still shaking when Sukuna lifts you to move you further down his muscular body. He angles the pink tip of one of his lengths with your cunt, and you feel the other bop against your ass needily. Sliding down the thick girth is no easy feat, and he doesn’t rush you, not even when his hips beg him to thrust up and bottom out. 

Moans fill the room when you sink all the way down and your head tips back. The mouth on his stomach seals itself shut, then quickly reappears near his pelvis. You’re about to tell him how uncanny it is that he keeps making it move, but your words fall short when it flicks its tongue over your hypersensitive clit.

There are too many hands to count roaming over your body. A pair pawing at your ass and urging you to bounce on him faster, and another set squeezes your tits and rolls the hardened buds of your nipples between his fingers.

Sukuna stares up at you in awe as you ride him. The light above your head forms a halo around your hair, making you look otherworldly and the sounds you make have him believing that you were some sort of fallen angel who has come to drag him to the depths of hell in condemnation for all his sins.

Your hand goes behind you, curling around his neglected cock, and he makes a sound he didn’t even know he was capable of. Your walls squeeze unbelievably tight around him as you cum not too long after him, and his hands band around you before pulling you down so he can kiss you again.

It takes a while for the two of you to stop shuddering, and only when your lips are utterly kiss-bitten and too numb to continue, do you slide off him and land at his side with a huff. 

Sukuna is still trying to catch his breath when a thought clicks into place. He was more than happy to lock you in the deepest dungeon he had so you’d never see the light of day again, but after all that, he could think of something better.

Better for him, that is.

He rises from the bed and starts to put his robes back on. “You’ll be moved into the Ruby Palace tomorrow.”

He hears you sit up, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know your eyes are probably bulging out their sockets. 

“What?!”

Your exclamation makes a pleased smile curl his lips. 

While the Rose, Jade and Emerald palaces housed all the concubines, the Ruby Palace has always been vacant.

Because it was reserved for whoever Sukuna would pick as his empress.

With an about turn, he meets your stare and offers you a mocking smile. “You’ve touched what’s mine and believe me, I’ve killed men for less. So, be happy that your emperor is generous enough to award your insubordination with a title instead of an execution, hm?”

Your mouth opens, but he’s already pulling the door open. There’s a heavy thud of something hitting the wood and a string of colourful expletives follow him as he walks back to his quarters with a spring in his step. 

Hm, maybe late-night walks really were relaxing.

a/n: whew my family would 100% request an exorcism if they ever saw this. anyway, thank you to @rambld for being my test subject, love you like jellytots baybay

[madamechrissy]

mdni- Law professor! Higuruma x law student! reader

Your law professor Hiromi Higuruma is exhausted, he'd asked you to come for a meeting to discuss your upcoming internship with him - you were a top law student, after all, but he had no damn sleep and his coffee is too weak. He's eased back with his dark eyes shut, hands over his face, trying to wake himself up enough to see you.

It's hard to see you too, hard to even look at you, how fucking pretty you are makes his job difficult to say the least. You're a good twelve years younger, not that its' that much of an issue, the problem is you're his student.

He certainly can't cross that line, and he certainly can't jerk off every time he sees your thighs in your little pencil skirts, all professional and smiling as you bring him breakfast, lunch, fuck you're always bending over to give him something - and making him feel like a fucking depraved pervert. He tries not to think of you when he jerks his cock at night, but you flit through his mind.

How he'd fuck you right here on this desk, pump all his cum inside your pretty cunt. How he'd eat your surely cute little cunt, have your squirt all down his dress shirt, his tie, every inch covered in you. Fuck he'd bathe in it if he could.

Even now just thinking of seeing you has his cock throbbing, he's so tired he can't stop it like he usually can, jumping up when you walk in, clearing his throat and quickly sitting up, praying you don't get close enough to see the tent in his slacks. You smile all pretty, today your blouse is unbuttoned too much, hints of your tits peeking out as if to taunt him.

"Mr. Hiromi," you say softly, shutting the door behind you and holding two cups precariously. "I got your favorite espresso."

"Oh fuck I love you," you giggle when he panics, tired eyes lidded as they gaze down at your lips.

How would they wrap his cock?

"I mean..." He starts stammering just a bit, but you smile.

"I will take that," you tease, handing it to him, your fingertips brushing together when he takes it. You feel that heat shoot down into your tummy, a gnawing ache that's just constantly there for your professor -months of having to watch him lecture, watch him in court, your vibrator hates to see you coming after days you join him and watch him argue.

When he gets angry? Fuck.

He seems so calm but it's just brimming underneath the surface, he takes a sip and moans. "God that's good, so much better than the shitty coffee here."

"I figured so," you sip your own drink - much more foamy and sweet, handing him the documents he asked for. "Here you go."

"They can wait," he tosses them to the side now, sighing and leaning back in his chair. "It's the weekend, don't you have some party to go to or something? A date?"

"Nah I was just gonna watch Bridgerton and cuddle on the couch," you sit on his desk, crossing your legs, his gaze darts to them, fingers damn near twitching with how badly he wants to grip them.

"You're twenty three, shouldn't you be having fun?"

"As if you're so old," you tease, uncrossing them and swinging your ankles around just a bit. "But no, not my thing."

"I see," he tilts his head and leans close. "What season are you on?"

"You do not watch it!"

"Who says I don't," you're giggling all cute, ruining his muddled mind even further. "Okay I don't but I have heard of it."

"It's really good! You probably just rewatch Lincoln Lawyer on repeat."

"Tch," you're giggling again and drinking your cup. "You're right."

"Called it!" You hop down and nearly trip, he catches you buy your hips quickly, the coffee precariously falling but you some how catch it with both hands. "Oh I'm so sorry."

He says nothing, not when your tits are right in his face, and he can feel the curve of your waist, he hardly holds back a gutteral moan, not letting go. You set the coffee down with a shaky hand, heart hammering in your chest, stepping between his spread thighs now.

"Are you all right, Sir?"

"Don't fuckin' call me that," he rests his head on your waist now, exhaling and tugging you closer, nuzzling the little buttons of your bodice when your hand brushes back his messy dark locks. "You really should go."

"Oh? Why's that?" he chuckles just a bit, looking up at you underneath those lidded eyes, black from his pupils being blown out.

"If you stay I'll put a fucking baby inside you, how do you think your law career will be then?" You suck in a breath, thighs pressing together, filthy images fill his mind - pumping so many loads of cum in your cunt you can't walk without them dripping down your legs. "Go."

Your answer is to sink to your knees, he barely holds himself back when your fingers undo his zipper. "I don't want a baby yet but you can certainly say you wanna, you can cum inside me."

"God," he's hissing when you pull out his cock, the tip already leaking all that white he wants inside you. He holds your hair in a ponytail when you're flicking your tongue on his tip. "I won't give you special treatment in class, but I will fill you with all the cum you want."

"Mmm," you take him in your mouth now, sucking and watching him with your pretty eyes, he tugs your hair into a better ponytail, watching as you glide your throat down him. You're touching your clit over your panties as he starts to get mean with it, desperately rutting his hips up, hardly able to keep quiet.

"F-fuck, your slutty throat is that good? Sweetheart," he's mumbling now, your drool is spilling down his balls, tight and heavy, your nose brushing that dark pubic hair as you gag and choke on it. "Touching yourself? No."

He yanks your fingers off, you pull back with a wet pop, lips dripping with saliva and pre. "I need to cum, please Sir."

"You're asking for it," he grumbles - every time you call him that more pre spurts from his red, swollen tip, sucking you off your fingers, you gasp at the action, just to get tugged up by your hair to stand. "Turn around and lift your skirt f'me, hmm?"

This isn't meticulous, exhausted law professor Hiromi, this is dominant, commanding Hiromi with his big cock leaking, you eagerly obey and he sighs, sinking to his knees as you tug that skirt over the curve of your ass. He buries his face against your cunt, panties on and all, soaking wet already.

"You're already this wet? From sucking me?" Your answer is a muffled whine, trying not to let the entire college know that Hiromi is about to bury that long nose inside your cunt. "Prop that leg up - atta girl, there you go. Good job."

"F-fuck," you're clinging to his desk when he tugs your panties to the side, tongue lapping a fat stripe from your clit to your ass, slipping down to fuck into your quivering hole.

God you taste good - he can't get enough of it, the slick coating his tongue and lips, dripping down his chin. He parts your swollen folds to look at it winking right at him, cunt just gushing arousal in clear little drips that leak down your thighs. He licks it up greedy as it spills, and you're arching, begging for him.

"Please, inside," you're barely able to form a word when he nudges your twitchy clit with his nose, his papers just fucking scattering as you start clinging to the desk. "Mnh, please!"

"Shh, I'll give it to you," he leans up, turning your face to his - he's a gentleman and he hasn't kissed you yet, that just won't do. "Open."

You eagerly do what he asks, cock slapping against your ass with a loud thwack, your tongue out, he spits your juices right on it, closing your mouth and urging you to swallow, tip nudging that messy cunt, pressing in, she's so wet she's soaking his cock, dripping down onto the polished hardwood underneath.

He sinks his cock deep inside your walls, your head falls back, ragged little breaths escaping as your tongues swirl all messy, one of his hands tugging your thigh up even higher, bottoming out in one stroke. You can hardly take just how girthy his cock is, the tip kissing your cute cervix as he lets you adjust for just a moment.

"Feel better than I even imagined," you blush now - how cute you blush with cock inside you, walls quivering around him, his spit down your throat, when the door knocks and you tense up Hiromi just slams inside you harder.

"Ah!"

"Shh darling," he covers your mouth with his hand, fucking inside of you deeper, the wet squelch just echoing in his office. "Yes?"

"I need to talk about class tomorrow," it's professor Nanami, as soon as he talks your cunt pulses, Hiromi gets unreasonably jealous, his other hand toying with your twitchy clit.

"You're getting that wet from him?" You shake your head, but Nanami talks again and you're soaking his cock as it shoves fully in, balls smacking as he moves, the wet sounds obscene. "I don't share."

"Hiromi?" Nanami asks, his lips are on your ear as he lets your mouth go and you bite on your lip.

"Want him to know you're getting bred by your professor, pretty girl?" You do in fact, filthy thoughts are racing of fucking both your professors, though Hiromi is pounding your cunt so good you don't think you could handle more, his finger roughly pressing patterns on your clit faster. "Go ahead, cum."

"C-can't, psycho," you glare and Hiromi just smirks all tired, wrapping an arm around you to drag your messy hole right down him. "Mnh!"

"Is everything all right in there?"

"It's fine Nanamin, I'm just... wanting a nap, you know? Can I come see you in a f-fuck..." You're clenching too tight, he almost can't take it, cunt milking him for all he's worth. "In a few?"

"Always fucking napping and shit," Nanami sighs and stomps off, just in time for Higuruma's curved cock head to nudge your spot, you spasm and gasp out, barely able to cover your mouth in time, cunt squirting all down your thighs as your orgasm hits.

"Oh fuck, and you're a messy little law student, huh?" He's fucking you harder, pressing your back down so you arch even more, his fingers slipping inside your mouth. "Squirting just for me?"

"Mhm," you're nodding, letting him pin you down, your face next to those law books as he fucks you through it and into another orgasm, Hiromi's pinning your wrists down behind your back, moving harder, until you can't see.

No amount of masturbation prepared him for your needy, messy hole, nor how pliant and eager you are, letting him use your body however he wants. He hovers over you, lips brushing your temple tenderly as he moves his hips so goddamn mean. "I'll w-watch Bridgerton with you if you let me fill your cunt up."

You barely manage a laugh, turning your head as he lifts it by your hair and kisses you. "All seasons?"

"God anything, j-just wanna fill her up so full," you nod and Hiromi busts as if on cue, his messy white ropes all puffy and sticky in your slick walls, he's moaning desperately not even trying to be quiet. "Fuckin' taking all of it, want your cunt bred by me, hmm?"

You didn't think Hiromi would be filthy.

You didn't think he'd spit in your mouth, tell you he was gonna breed you or finger his cum back inside you. And you absolutely didn't think he'd actually come watch Bridgerton with you in your little off campus apartment, but he does. Though you're cockwarming him and he's torturing you, not letting you move.

Maybe Hiromi Higuruma is just a little sadistic.

****

that episode has me unwell tagging my bbs @cupidstrace @kamiflix @uhnosav hehe

[madamechrissy]

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