TW; harsh language, degradation, casual sex, overstim, crying during sex, cunnilingus, taking of nudes (with reader's consent and her face is not shown), rough sex, manhandling, threesome, DP, anal, male squirting
divider credits; @designlikenonsense
You just moved into a new neighborhood. Luckily, the creeps plan to give you a very, very, VERY good welcome.
Tattoo artist!Jeff only accepting your appointment because all the other tattoo artists at his studio took his regulars before he could even schedule for them.
Tattoo artist!Jeff prepping his tools only to spin around and see you, sweet, sweet you, in your pink miniskirt and button-up top. The white fabric could barely hide your baby pink bra.
Tattoo artist!Jeff grins and curls a finger at you to come sit on the bed and tell him what you’d like. Every now and then you’d spot him staring at your chest, licking his lips and tapping his fingertips on his leather belt adorned with the biggest buckle you’ve ever seen. You tell him you want a small pink heart outline on the back of your thigh.
Tattoo artist!Jeff points his finger on the leather seat and tells you to “Lay front-first.” You wince at the sudden, sharp motion of the needle dragging on your skin, but you manage to sit still while he meticulously (and surprisingly carefully) embedded the pink ink on your soft, pure skin.
Tattoo artist!Jeff blows sharply cold under your skirt, chuckling when you squeal. Shamelessly, he slips his cold, bony hand under your skirt, fingertips pressing into the plush of your ass while you shiver.
Tattoo artist!Jeff asks, “Tattoo sure looks fuckin’ sexy on that ass.” Bashfully, you lift your head just enough to turn it around to look back at him. “... really? Y’think so?” God, you’re flushed. You’re flushed and turned on and soaked. Jeff thought you looked like a scared little lamb.
Tattoo artist!Jeff mutters, tilting his head. “Want me to prove it to you?”
Tattoo artist!Jeff’s tattoos almost looked like they shone under the lamplight, bicep adorned with a long, beautifully detailed dragon in black and white. His tanktop lifts up just a little to see two guns crossed on the skin of his lower belly, a trail of matte-black hair leading up from his waist and thinning out on the belly button. The mirror behind you two was angled good enough for you to spot a tramp-stamp he had: the PLAYBOY logo scrawled on his pale, ashen skin.
Tattoo artist!Jeff ends up mounting you right on his tattoo bed, holding your head down sideways with your cheek pressed into the smoothness of the plastic cover. Your hands are bound behind you with his other hand. You’re bound to have bruises on your wrists later.
Tattoo artist!Jeff lowers down beside your ear, lips brushing against your skin. “Comin’ here wearin’ that slutty ass skirt just to get fucked by a stranger you don’t know shit about, huh? Do you even know my fuckin’ name? Huh, bitch?” You shake your head, mewling helplessly against the leather. He’s fucking you so hard and so deep. The chair is squeaking. You’re sobbing a little and digging your nails into the cushions. You bite on the leather, eyes rolling back when he finds that spongy spot in the deepest part of your cunt.
Tattoo artist!Jeff rams inside your leaking, slick-coated pussy, seemingly rutting in deeper and deeper and deeper—
Tattoo artist!Jeff laughs almost maniacally when you squirt all over his station. He pulls out just in time to paint your cute little ass with his cum, pumping himself a bit more. (He was careful enough not to land anything on your new tattoo.)
Tattoo artist!Jeff gives you the service and tattoo on the house, smirking as he watches the tattoo bounce up and down just under your skirt.
And smirking even harder when he remembers he made you keep his smeared cum inside your panties.
Camp ranger!Toby spotting a pretty little camper (you) looking all sweet and lost surrounded by thick trees and whatever goes bump in the night that you’re so very scared of.
Camp ranger!Toby swaggering over to your shaking frame, axe still in hand from cutting down pesky weeds. He breathes a little, staring at your (very uneased) body and face— mostly your body— before grinning impossibly wide at you.
Camp ranger!Toby’s face gash leaks a little more when he sees your poor little scared face. He breathes, “Are yuh– you l-lost?” Nodding, you shift a little on your feet. You notice how tall he really is, how big his muscles are. “I don’t know where my cabin is,” you shakily hand him your admission paper. He takes one look, nods, and grins. “Follow me.”
Camp ranger!Toby grips the skirt of your dress, almost ripping the seams. You glare at him for a moment, but your feet stumble on each other trying to follow him. A few minutes of almost tripping on small rocks and bashing your on face with risen tree roots, you realize this path isn’t the path you originally got lost on.
Camp ranger!Toby ignores you when you stammer how this isn’t my path mister and how I don’t recognize this path please stop pulling on my dress. He drags you back to his cabin, busting open the door with one swift kick and pushing you inside.
Camp ranger!Toby starts planting slobber-coated kisses all over your shoulders and neck. He looks up at you— why is he cute— before asking, “Can I taste you?” You freeze. Then, feeling a regretful but tempting ache in your body– you nod.
Camp ranger!Toby flashes a smile at you before dropping to his knees and shoving his face under the heat of your dress, pressing the tip of his tongue on your clothed clit, moving hungrily up and downed your panties, groaning when he feels the little bit of slick drip through the fabric and on his warm tongue.
Camp ranger!Toby eventually moves your panties to the side to plunge two fingers deep inside. Working madly up and down, he whines whenever specks of your fluids drip and spray on his tongue and the sides of his mouth, and Toby licks them all up like a filthy mutt.
Camp ranger!Toby cums in his pants the moment you cum on his tongue, your fingers gripping his hair like a death sentence. He pulls off of you with a disgusting pop! Before looking up at you, so sweet and so thankful— muttering “Thank y-you…”
Camp ranger!Toby gives you a wet kiss before backing off of the porch of your actual cabin, stumbling back to his own trail before he disappears into the night.
You find his number scrawled on your flyer snapped against the garter of your panties the next day.
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian laughing to each other when they spot you stumbling out of your own car. Brian tilts his head when you approach their desk. You ask for a simple pink tint.
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian nod and say their boys will get it done for you in no time. You thank them and sit down on one of the waiting benches inside their shop. However, you didn’t feel one set of eyes on your chest (that tank top you wore was dangerously low) and another set of eyes on your thighs (your shorts are showing more skin than you think it’s showing).
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian approach you after your tint is done. They name 300$ as their final price. You search your purse— you forgot your wallet. You freeze in front of them like deer in headlights.
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian were covered in car oil and grime, smears of black decorated their thick, strong forearms. Tim was wearing a white tank top that let his biceps flex and stretch and leave you with the unholiest of imaginations. You wonder how the fabric hasn’t ripped under his muscles yet. Brian, however, was shirtless— cocky while sporting his oily abs and V-lines, while a yellow hoodie was tied around his waist.
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian watch, smirking as you gulp and squeak how you forgot your wallet at home and if they had any online paying options. Tim grunts, “‘m real sorry, miss, but we only take cash.”
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian pause for a bit, before Brian speaks. “We do have another mode of payment,” glancing at Tim, motioning to the stock room.
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian have you on top of Tim, riding his cock while your tank top is pushed up to your collarbones, exposing your bouncing tits (“no bra, puddin’? Y’must be waiting for this.” Tim said.). Brian slips in behind you, hands kneading your tits, rolling your nipples in between his calloused fingers, whispering sweet nothings in your ear (“You’ve been riding him for the past half-hour, sweetpea. Mind giving me some sugar, too?”).
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian takes you at the same time. Brian in your ass, while Tim fucks up into you (because your legs are practically jelly at this point). After about half an hour they both go non-verbal, loud grunts and groans filling the room accompanied by your whines and mewls.
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian cums messily. Brian fills up your ass while Tim paints your body.
Autoshop owners!Tim and Brian let you leave the autoshop without paying a dime.
You leave a five-star review on their blog a week after.
College professor!Jack clicking his tongue at your recent Biology test papers, shaking his head while he looks blankly at your wrong answers.
College professor!Jack seems to be calculating something in his head, before looking up at you from his desk. “You’re one more failing test from flunking Biology for the semester.” You cower, biting your lip and thinking of what your parents might think, working their asses off just for your tuition only for you to flunk general biology in your third year.
College professor!Jack hums when he hears you asking for extra homework for extra credits, slowly standing up, eerily silent and thinking. Suddenly, he speaks. “You need at least 30 more points to amount to a passing grade,” you nod, desperate for the extra points.
College professor!Jack pauses, then turns around. “I am in need of a test subject as material for my female anatomy worksheets due before finals.” silence again. Then, “It’s about reactions to arousal.”
College professor!Jack has you laid on his desk, naked with nothing else but your flats on. You prop yourself up, but he plants two fingertips on your chest and gently but firmly pushes you down. “Ah-ah,” he tuts, clicking his tongue. “Lay flat. I need to see all of you.”
College professor!Jack who at first runs the tips of his fingers up and down your torso, humming at the visible goosebumps following his motion. His tail wags gently side to side, but even that looks perfectly calculated. He brings the pad of his fingers firmly on one of your nipples, hearing you whine at the stimulation.
College professor!Jack trails his fingers down to your slick-coated heat, circling the soft nub of your clit before slowly slipping a finger inside. He watches your face change closely. Then, another finger, then another… but he doesn’t move. You beg him to please move your fingers please I want it so bad, but he doesn’t respond.
College professor!Jack finally obliges and moves— but painfully slow. You whine and writhe against him, the base of his palm merely brushing your clit. Jack leans in, slow and accurate, breath flush against your ear. “Ride my fingers. Prove that you deserve those 30 points.”
College professor!Jack watches as you lift your hips then bring them back down again on his long fingers, eyes rolling back and your hand gripping his wrist in place. He watches your orgasm take over you with silent delight.
College professor!Jack pulls out and brings his soaked fingers to his face. He smells it, silently humming. Then, he brings his tongues out, stretched and licking up from the base to the tips of his fingers.
College professor!Jack cleans off his fingers. “Arousal is… sweet. Like nectar.” he pauses. “Do you mind if I took body-shots for… educational purposes?”
College professor!Jack hands you the answer-key printed on an index card on finals day, nodding to where your seat is.
You’re gawking at your own bare body, with no face shown, printed on the test paper.
Freelancer!BEN whom you’ve paid 50$ each week for him to work on your consistently broken sink, which you might or might have not wrecked on purpose so he can keep coming back.
Freelancer!BEN who appears on your porch, lazy smile and equipment ready, hits you with a “Morning, ma’am. What’s broken today?”
Freelancer!BEN who slides under your sink pipes, grunting a “Let’s see the damage here…” before he arches his body just right for his shirt to lift up and show a bit of his faint abs. He has a small LUCKY YOU tattoo on the side of his hip. You bite your lip, imagining what his skin would feel like if it was pressed against your tongue.
Freelancer!BEN who after about an hour, finally repairs the broken pipe that gave out soooo suddenly and glances up at you from the floor. He gives you tips and tricks as to not wear out the epoxy, but you aren’t listening. You’re too busy imagining what it would be like to shut him up using your glossed lips (that you used your most expensive lipgloss for) and hiking your booty shorts a little more.
Freelancer!BEN’s eyes travel in all the right places you want them to travel. He smirks, pointy canines flashing while he politely fixes up his tools. His pants look a little tighter.
Freelancer!BEN was about to name the price but you stop him with a hand on his shoulder and eyes deep inside his. He gets a good whiff of your perfume as you speak. “Actually, I…” you trail a finger up and down his chest. “With all this work you’ve been doing for me, I thought it would be just right to give something far more special back than just loading your face with money.”
Freelancer!BEN cocks an eyebrow up, still grinning from ear to ear, setting his toolbox down ever so quietly on the counter.
Freelancer!BEN who’s whining and whimpering and moaning so pathetically under you, breath knocked out with how hard you drop yourself down on his cock. He begs you to pleasepleaseplease let me cum inside you, eyes filled to the brim with tears. You don’t stop nor slow down, hands planted on his chest for support, smearing your slick and his pre-cum all over yours and his hips.
Freelancer!BEN who blushes when you say “Thank you sooo much for helping me, Ben,” high out of your mind on sex, while he nods back frantically, lightly laughing out of breath, “No– ngh– no problem ma’am— anytime– oh fuck!”
Freelancer!BEN who accidentally gets very overstimulated, to the point of sobbing under your touch, gripping on his pillow behind him, holding on to basically nothing. Nothing but the last of his consciousness when his eyes roll back into his skull.
Freelancer!BEN pushes you off the moment he feels you cum around him— because he literally can’t hold it in anymore— and squirts hard and long, spurts of white, warm cum splattered on your body that reach in between your tits.
Freelancer!BEN spasms and writhes under you, while you ride out your orgasm flush on his cock, mewling when the rest of your orgasm out. He sobs quietly under you. “Can I… can I have a kiss please?”
Freelancer!BEN leaves with lipgloss kiss-marks all over his face, kissing you goodbye and scheduling another repair next week.
summary: just some husband kuna and tattoo!artist reader’s text messages.
warnings: first smau, small cannibalistic joke, baby yuji, established relationship, also the messages aren’t ai i wrote these myself on memichat and i cant do anything about the bottom 😕
a/n from the mermiadfairyprincess ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵): first smau.. expect more of these I had fun with this 🩷🩷 also first jjk post so there’ll be more of that too!
TW/CW: 18+, smut, dom reader, mommy kink, overstim, dangerous sex (?), quirk malfunctions, electricity usage, stoner Denki
a/n: a few minutes late, but happy birthday Denki Kaminari, my favourite canon pervert
Black-and-yellow banners and streamers hung loosely around the apartment. Cake crumbs and half a bottle of Coke remained on the kitchenette side. The TV is still playing Sero’s playlist quietly, despite your friends’ absence.
It’s just Denki, and you left now, late into the night after a day of celebration.
"Did you have a good birthday?” you ask, trying to collect the paper plates and plastic cups bought for the occasion.
Denki sprawls out on the sofa, eyes slightly red and face relaxed. He offers a lazy smile, patting his lap as he exhales another cloud of smoke from Mina’s forgotten pink leopard-print pen.
“One of the best,” the blond affirms, nodding a little too slowly, “the only thing that’d make it better is my pretty girl on my dick rather than cleaning up.”
“Oh? I thought you were too tired?” You laugh, cocking an eyebrow as you walk closer to him.
“Tired? Nah, you know I’m gonna be up for a while yet, I jus’ told them that so they’d get out before they saw my raging hard on.” Denki shuffles, spreading his thighs further, showing off the imprint of his cock through his sweats, “You look damn good. Now gimme my birthday kiss.”
You slide onto his lap perfectly, made to be there. His hips buck upward instantly, letting out a low groan as he grinds against you, leaning up to press his lips to yours, his tongue quickly slipping between your lips.
“Haven’t even done anything today, Denki, jus’ that desperate?” You tease breathlessly against his lips, slowly circling your hips against him, his half-lidded eyes following the movement as he bites his lip.
“Don’t have to do anything to get me worked up, you know that.”
“Mhm, well, what does the birthday boy want hm?”
“Want you to ride me.”
“What’s the magic word?”
“Fuck- please, please, mommy.”
You’re shuffling briefly, tugging his sweats down and your own panties to the side before lining his aching cock up with your empty cunt. Sinking on him as he lets out a pathetic whine, already trying to take over by bucking his hips upward.
“Ah-ah, don’t move baby, s’your birthday right?” You coo, holding his pretty face, beginning to move.
His face twists in pleasure as you fully sink, teasing him with slow movements, his hands gripping the meat of your thighs as he tries not to buck up to get some more of that sweet, sweet friction.
“M-mommy, I- hnngh,” he gasps, gripping harder as you speed up a little, the sound of skin against skin audible over the music, “please faster. Please don’t tease.”
You smirk at his whiny begging, taking him deeper, clenching your walls around him to draw out that pretty groan he always makes. Your hands pressed against his chest. His cock is already twitching inside you, his stuttering moans showing how close he already is.
“You gonna cum already? Isn’t that a bit embarrassing?” You laugh between pants, quickening your pace, taking him deeper and harder as his hands tremble against your thighs. You know how sensitive weed makes him.
His eyes roll back at the mean degradation, and he whimpers, fully whimpers as he finally bucks up into you, moving from your thighs to hold onto your ass.
“Please mommy, wanna cum,” he babbles at you, drool collecting in the corner of his mouth, “please can I cum? Wanna cum in your pretty pussy, please mommy.”
You can’t give or deny permission, not as hot ropes of cum flood you without warning.
“How selfish,” you scold, “don’t I get to cum too?”
You don’t stop, keeping pace as you clench around him harder on purpose, milking every drop and then some. Denki’s hands are spasming against your ass, whining as you don’t stop, his now oversensitive tip hitting your womb.
“I’m sorry! I'm sorry, Mommy, I didn’t-“ he mumbles, incoherent as you keep moving; his words trail off into a mess of moans and whines as your cunt squeezes him again.
He bucks up into you, still trying despite his oversensitivity, only making you coo praises as you stroke through his fuzzy blond hair already collecting static.
“Such a good boy, Denki,” you praise cruelly, feeling the familiar pricks of shock through your muscles, “you want me to cum on your cock, yeah?”
He nods eagerly, eyes focused on the creamy ring formed around the base of his cock every time you swallow it deep. He’s still trying to thrust upward, mouth open and brain offline, eyes dazed, and brows furrowed—a look you know all too well.
“Hands off.” You warn quickly, not daring to stop, and Denki does his best to listen, taking his hands from your ass and gripping the couch instead as a spark overloads.
“Good boy.” You pant, patting his cheek as your bounces slow to a grind, for you instead of him now.
Of course, the praise gets him, and he’s moaning low as he floods you a second time, eyes rolling back as his hair begins to stick upward. His hands twitch into fists as he fights the urge to grab you, to slow you down, to speed you up as you turn his brain into mush.
Your hips roll against his, taking him the best way now, his cock still flushed and hard inside of you, hitting all those deep spots that make your toes curl. Every grind is accompanied by a gasp from you or a broken groan from him.
“Too much!” He hiccups out, bordering on a sob as he shakes from overstimulation.
It almost is, but he hasn’t uttered the word yet, and the familiar prickles are just that. Only when you feel your hair standing up on the back of your neck do you finally roll against that one spot that has you seeing stars, a dangerous game when your poor overstimulated boyfriend could zap out at any moment. You can only gasp and moan as the heat in your belly coils tighter, threatening to break any second as small zaps make your fingers against his chest go numb. Your cunt flutters around his cock as you edge closer to your orgasm.
“Jus’ a bit more baby, jus’ a bit more,” you pant out, “can do it for me, can control it.”
Denki nods fervently, biting his bottom lip as he tries to control the sparks that are quickly becoming dangerous.
“Can’t- can’t control it!” He gasps out, warning as his cock twitches violently inside you, “Gonna cum again!”
With a final roll of your hips, your cunt clenches around him achingly tight, gushing around him as your orgasm hits. Your hips stop their movements instantly as Denki nearly short circuits, a broken sob coming from him as he twitches weakly, cumming a third time.
You both pant as you come down from your highs, Denki nearly dumb from overstimulation.
“That was a close one.” He whispers hoarsely, giving you a fucked out, his hair buzzing with static.
“Mhm… it was, but worth it,” you mutter back, giving him a quick peck that gives you a short jolt, “happy birthday baby.”
some part of you thought that maybe sukuna would be startled upon being caught red-handed (or... mouth-handed) like this. but as you lean against the doorway and drink in the lewd position you've walked in on him in, he just looks at you.
"no," you watch his palm pull up and off the tip of his cock, and the drooling mouth that you're sure was just sucking the soul out of himself seals up. he makes a point of closing his fist around the thick length of his cock and giving it a few rough strokes. "you see things that aren't there. you're odd."
you cross your arms. "well i'm not the one sucking my own dick."
"don't call it that. and you have no cock to suck," sukuna bites, hitting right where it hurts. a sudden reminder that you'll never be able to slip it into a warm and loving mouth like your own…
“shut the fuck up.”
you step into the room, ignoring the disgruntled noise he makes at your movement, and plop yourself down on the bed where he stretches out, stroking himself languidly.
"you're perverted," he tsks, ignoring your hungry eyes as he keeps pace. "go on, then. serve me with your mouth."
"i think you can do that well enough for yourself," you shrug.
"i should spank your ass raw, brat."
despite his sharp words, sukuna doesn't make much of an effort to stop you when you pull his hand from his cock and trace your finger over his palm. there's no mouth in sight, though his skin is covered in a sheen of what could either be precome or saliva. you aren't sure.
you give his open palm a soft kiss. "come on, kuna. i think it's hot, you know."
he doesn't reply, just bears his teeth a little as you guide his palm back to his leaking tip, pushing it gently against the in-tact skin. you aren't so sure how it works, his hand-mouth. the only glimpses you get of it are when he's using it to suck on your clit while he fucks you full of his cock.
it takes you reaching down with your free hand to give his balls a squeeze for him to finally relent and, with a groan, let the mouth on his palm manifest. you watch it latch on to the tip of his cock, collecting his beading pre on the tongue before you gently push his palm down a little, feeding sukuna's own cock to himself.
"can you taste it?" you ask, rolling his balls a little with your free hand.
"yes."
"do you like it?"
"keep asking questions and i'll replace this mouth with your own."
he's groaning his words out, rolling his hips up a little to push into his palm better. you don't listen to his threats, though you know they aren't empty.
"does it have a gag reflex?" you chime, taking sukuna's irritation as a chance to push his palm down even further, and watch in awe as he takes his own cock down to the base. "holy shit."
sukuna groans at the sudden engulfment, tipping his head back and bucking his hips up in rhythm with the push of your hand down on his own. he's in nirvana for all of five seconds before you laugh.
"it's like the fucking bag from mary poppins!"
"what the fuck is a—" sukuna cuts himself off, preferring to find his orgasm in peace than entertain the weird shit you say. his free hand comes up to the back of your head, and with a strained 'shut the fuck up', he pushes your head down to his balls.
you're easily occupied, smiling as you mouth over his sack with a kiss before starting on worshipping him properly. your warm mouth works in beautiful tandem with his, which takes his cock right down to the base.
you only chime up again when his balls tighten up, and you're met with the full force of his orgasm as he spills right into his mouth-hand with a chesty groan. you pull off his sack with a grin "ha, you just ate your own load."
chest heaving, sukuna growls. his hand pulls off his cock and shoots down to caress the side of your face, all too soft to be genuine. there's a stupid spark of amusement in his eyes that has your lips parting to ask what the fuck he has planned for you.
your question is answered before it can even leave your lips. pushing you backwards onto the bed and pressing himself in between your thighs, he doesn't give you a second to react before he's covering your mouth with his hand.
Come to think of it, it really is insane that my entire country is burning alive and literally no one in the rest of the world cares. Thousands of Indians are dying every day from the heat, it's 45+ degrees in multiple areas, the government couldn't give two fucks, we're getting severe warnings and red alerts, and not a soul outside of South Asia is speaking about it because why would you ever care about brown people
USA folks, that is a consistent temperature range hitting 113°. Death Valley temperatures. In Banda, it hovered between 116°-118° (47°-48° C) for a week straight.
This has been happening all month with little to no international media attention. Here are a few organizations you can check out for resources or to support:
A/N: sorry brainrotted thought I had at work today, actually imagine being on shift and your boss thinking about this 😭
Your boyfriend had many quirky and strange habits, more than most. His determination that, as an adult, he could have dessert before dinner, his childish nature and intent to find whimsy and joy in even the worst things, and his endless ego confidence and self-assurance.
But one of the weirdest was this.
“Hands on the wall pretty girl,” Satoru demanded, prepared to leave completely aside this weird ritual he demanded you keep, “Yeah, just like that.”
You knew the position to assume, back facing him, hands against the wall, Satoru standing behind you. As if this were a police stop and search rather than going out to get groceries.
Your pants are shuffled downward to just under the curve of your ass, and you hear that familiar sharp inhale.
“Plain black?” He asks, almost offended, “You wound me.”
“We’re going shopping.” You can only counter, yet some part of you feels weirdly guilty for disappointing him in your choice of underwear.
You were only going shopping, nothing more, your choice in black cotton briefs shouldn’t have been judged so harshly and yet, here you were.
“Nope.” Satoru sighs, pulling your pants back to your waist, tapping your ass twice, “Change them.”
“Satoru.”
“I mean it. Change them.” He repeats, petulant in tone, a whine in his voice.
You sigh, taking your hands from the wall, turning to face him. You cross your arms, looking up at him, about to argue. But you see the pout, as if he weren’t a fully grown 6’3” man, his blindfold in his pocket, otherwise dressed and raring to go.
“Fine.”
You’ll change to something he deems more appropriate. Maybe the lacy white pair, the cute pair with the star pattern, or even that ruby red pair you know drives him wild. Either way, you know you won’t be getting ingredients for dinner until he approves of your panties.
jjk men reactions & aftercare when you use your safeword…
headcanons list
MDNI, highly suggestive content, smut themes, overstimulation, mentions of discomfort/pain, spanking (suguru), etc.
gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna
-> all i could think of when writing safe words was this from that one rick & morty episode please help
satoru gojo:
satoru gojo, before his relationship with you, was a full-fletched virgin.
while people close to him like suguru, before he left jujutsu tech, or shoko would have been able to tell anyone this fact after having known him for so long and so well, in satoru's later years, he finds that everyone assumes he has a rather promiscuous past before settling down with you.
he understands. quite frankly, it doesn't surprise him at all. he's a flirty personality with a sickenly gorgeous face, with the confidence and arrogance of a well-seasoned slut. he does not exude the energy of a person who went twenty-four years of his life without having sex with anyone. he had received and given oral maybe a few times in his early twenties, but he had never gone beyond that.
you're his first at twenty-four and you're his one and only from then one.
despite his lack of physical experience, satoru, unsurprisingly, is incredibly skilled with the use of his body. there's truly nothing that gojo can not do perfectly. he's seen enough, studied the physical reactions you have to him even when you're just speaking, knows you enough to treat you well without having had to fuck a million people beforehand.
and because you are satoru's one and only, he fucking worships you. he gets drunk off of you. he goes insane for you every single time the two of you are together intimately. while his stamina is incredibly high, his desperation proceeds him and his ability to maintain control is drastically lacking whenever he's got your pretty legs quivering over his head as his tongue licks greedy stripes over your puffy clit.
satoru is spoiled. he gets what he wants and does what he wants when he wants it, and he absolutely expects to get exactly what he wants from you when the two of you are in bed, which is to make you as much of a mess for him as he is for you. he wants you shaking, he wants you begging, he wants you crying for more as you struggle to handle just how good he makes you feel, and every single time, he succeeds.
the thought alone of pleasing you renders him dizzy, and his mind often wanders in the middle of meetings when he's supposed to be focused on the course schedule for the first years over the upcoming next few months. satoru is completely and utterly whipped for you, and with his greedy, mindless desire to hear you moaning for him into the early hours of the morning, he can tend to get a little out of hand.
satoru has never made you feel any less than heavenly, any less than adored, any less than cherished. he satisfies you in indescribable ways, and you're admittedly as head over heels for him as he is for you. he's soft, but then he's wild, whiny, relentless, sloppy, yet always so damn good. he pushes you to just the right limits, drawing out physical reactions you hadn't even known to be possible before him, and talking you through it all. though he's always on the brink of going too far, he never has.
so that is why you are close to panicking now that your legs and your throbbing, overstimulated pussy have gone numb with a rather unfamiliar tingling sensation.
you don't even think you can see anymore. you're long past an acceptable point of lack of functionality, and you can't even think. you hear satoru's voice murmuring as it always does, babbling on in his far-gone state as he pulls you closer for another round. the two of you started this when the sun was out, midday, and now, the sky is pitch black and the clock reads almost midnight, not that you can even tell.
you can feel satoru everywhere, hands flying to any patch of skin he can possibly find, yet the sensation is detached from you. you take a few seconds before realizing that you can hardly breathe, and your body is so spent you can barely move.
satoru, above you, is gone. exceedingly pussy drunk, having came more times than he could count in your mouth, on your stomach, on your back, inside your cunt, and yet he still seeks more. it's like his mind and body are on autopilot, searching for you blindly without any indication of how far he has gone or when he should stop. he's just as fucked out in the brain as you, but the only difference is that he somehow has more energy to spare. his dick is somehow still jumping to life, and you suddenly remember that this is satoru gojo you're talking about.
on the battlefield and in bed, he's a monster, unlike any other.
"c'mere, pretty, just-just one more, gotta feel you," he rambles, panting heavily as he tugs you closer and roams his crystal blue eyes over your trembling body. his sense of logic is skewed, the flags are not registering. he only sees you, and he is eager. he's so in love, so intoxicated by you, he's lost his damn mind.
"y'so gorgeous for me, baby, such a good pretty girl. my good pretty girl. love this pretty girl's pussy, so-so good for me. so good."
and there he goes, on and on about how he wants you, what you do to him, how perfect you are, and you can't even hear it. your ears are ringing. where the hell even are you?
satoru's moving to caress over your body, detailing the softness of your soaked skin beneath his palms before his hands meet your soaked cunt again. he's prying at your weak thighs, ghosting his fingers over your clit hungrily, and the second you feel the tip of his finger so much as graze your bundle of nerves, you're momentarily revived. you're gasping and pushing him away, crawling back.
satoru watches you, brows drawing together. he goes to reach for you again, but then you hastily breathe out. "purple! purple, purple, purple," you wail, body twitching as you curl in on yourself.
the moment your safeword falls on satoru's ears, he's snapping out of it. his blown pupils suddenly shrink and he reconnects with the world around him, with you, the way your heart races, the way you can hardly speak, the way you can't even lift your head from the pillow.
he looks down at the drenched state of your sheets, then back up at you, shaking, and he's finally back.
"baby," he coaxes in concern, crawling up to meet you. you don't even open your eyes when he hovers over you. you simply squirm, murmuring nonsense as chills rack you and your feet kick out. you're absolutely done. "fuck, baby. hey, you there with me? (y/n)?" he cups his hand over your hot cheek, worried eyes taking in the sight of you. he's never seen you like this before, and it's jarring. how long have you even been like this? did he seriously not notice that you had been spent for a while?
your hands go to push at his chest, but he stops you gently, holding your wrist and hushing you. "it's okay, princess, you're okay. you're alright... fuck, baby, look at you. you can't even understand me, can you?"
as expected, you don't show any indication that you can hear him. instead, your body slowly melts back into the sheets as though registering the shift in satoru's mannerisms and tone. you relax, slumping, and satoru almost thinks you've passed out.
"uh uh. don't pass out on me, pretty. come on," he urges you gently, patting your cheek. you groan and stir, at least showing him that you are still conscious. "okay, that's good, baby. that's a good girl, come here."
he pulls you into his arms, enveloping you in his safe embrace. your cheek falls against his bare pectoral and you hum, nuzzling into him as he holds your head close, petting over your hair and watching you carefully. satoru struggles to gather himself as well as he holds you, breathing heavily and twitching against your body whilst bringing himself back to reality.
you continue to rub your face against him, and he looks down at you, brows knitted together. fuck, he feels awful. he hadn't meant to push you this far.
"(y/n)?" he calls your name again, a rather rare occurrence. you take a moment to hum drowsily after a few minutes have passed. "can you hear what i'm saying?"
"...mhm," you hum again brokenly.
"yeah? you can?"
this time you only nod, and he sighs. "are you okay, pretty? are you hurt?"
"mm-mm."
"you sure?"
"y-yeah, tor..."
you don't even finish his name as you sink further into him. satoru kisses your cheek, then your temple. "okay, i get it now. i did too much? i went too far?"
"mhm," you whimper, and his arms tighten around you.
"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, i should've known better," he apologizes profusely. "i got carried away, i wasn't even thinking. i wasn't even there myself- but that's no excuse. i'm sorry. stay with me, pretty."
slowly, your arms slide to wrap around your boyfriend's neck, and he melts like sap into you, cooing gently and showering you with kisses. he can feel your rapid heartbeat against his chest, your soft pants fanning on his cheek, your abdomen tightening and releasing with your shivers.
"you're so sensitive. i got you good, huh?" he observes. "i'll go easier, next time, pretty. okay? you did so good for me. you always do such a good job. just keep those pretty eyes closed and rest. i'll clean you up in a bit."
you nod meekly once more, cuddling impossibly further into him. you doze to the sound of his assurances, of his tender voices telling you that you’re safe, that satoru’s got you, that he’s so proud of you. he lets you rest before he has to wake you again to help you get ready for bed and to clean you properly.
he loves you so much. so so much, and despite him going overboard, his heart swells with relief at the fact that you feel comfortable enough to tell him to stop.
suguru geto: suguru is truly a kind and loving man. he's gentle and meticulous in the way he cares for you. he always makes sure that you have everything you need and that you're cared for the way you deserve to be cared for. and in bed, he's almost teasing with the way he loves you. he's sweet, keeping his searing lips to your ear as he floods your brain with declarations of future promises, of making you happy, of practically laying down his life if it means listening to you call his name over and over.
he's got a mouth on him, one full of filthy affections, and he gets you off on the sultry sweetness of his sugary tone constantly. he'll be knuckles deep inside you, kissing your cheek almost innocently as he murmurs seductively to you his devotions.
"you squeeze me so nice, sweet girl. you look so fucking beautiful like this. that's right, angel. feel it. feel my fingers stretching you out so good. fuck, i could finger you like this every day for the rest of my life. would you like that, angel? hmmm?"
he always makes sure you respond, as well. he's pulling orgasm after orgasm from you and urging you to speak while doing so, no matter how far gone you are. he's not satisfied until your angelic little voice is breathing out to answer him unsteadily, your words warming his heart and hardening his dick without fail.
nevertheless, despite suguru's generosity, he has the tendency to be so mean when he's agitated.
suguru has a pretty terrible attitude, and though it's not often on display when he is irritated, particularly by something you say, he's an entirely different beast.
his honeyed tone still remains when he punishes you, yet it's laced around far less pretty words. he teases, mocks, judges, and at times, it's enough to make you cry or second guess yourself if you were to hear him go on like this in any other setting.
suguru's presence is incredibly domineering aside from his normally gentle demeanor. when push comes to shove, he is still a man capable of murder, a man harboring the hatred of an entire species, and a man who manages to uphold his connections and his legacy through his cult by means of manipulation.
suguru is nice, yes, but he's also kind of a bully.
the dark-haired man doesn't find himself taking out his irritations on you often. he only deems it necessary to do so when his irritation is inspired by you, and while he has attitude issues, you mirror his tenfold... and he does not tolerate you doing so one bit.
now, you know suguru very well and are very accustomed to how he handles you when he's pissed off, but tonight, he's showing no mercy.
he's had you splayed over his lap for what feels like forever, your ass pointed upward and your wrists bound before you as you muffle your whimpers as best as you possibly can. you don't even remember what you had said or done to get suguru so worked up, but you know that your ass is stinging horribly and is likely marked up with several red angry hand prints, yet suguru is seemingly still far from finished with you.
you've tried crawling away multiple times, but his strong hands always pull you right back, keeping your back arched and your ass up for his access.
"don't cry now, angel," he says, voice dark as his hands roam over your ass. you tense as he gathers a handful of the fat into his fingers, squeezing tightly before raising his hand to smack down hard again with no warning. you lurch forward with a sob, your legs trembling harshly. "you weren't crying earlier when you were running your mouth so much, were you?"
"sugu," you hiccup, desperate for a break. "p-please..."
"nuh uh. you can't 'sugu' you're way out of this one," geto says, eyes heavy and dark as they look over the marks he has left behind. "after all, you're the one who wanted this."
"n-no," you deny pitifully.
"no?" he bites down hard on his teeth as he smacks you again, watching your plump flesh jiggle with the motion. he groans under his breath, sliding his hands over you again as you cry. "really? i could have sworn by the way you were talking to me, this was the only outcome you were looking for."
you can hardly hold yourself up anymore. your face falls flat on the bed as your body shakes with your laments. you don't know what number of spanks you're even on. was there ever a set count to begin with?
you try to reach a hand back, but you forget that your wrists are tied before you, leaving you with absolutely no defenses and suguru with the upper hand.
suguru roughly grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you up, looking over your tear-stained face with a quirked brow. "what's the matter? can't handle your punishment?" he taunts, eying you intensely.
you sniffle, eyes unfocused. your lips part to answer him, but he beats you to it, landing two more smacks to your backside, and you're seeing stars. the strike of his hand is starting to burn, stinging agonizingly over your skin. your ass is buzzing, throbbing with its own bruise-induced heartbeat.
you feel more tears break past your eyes and your brows scrunch up. "that won't do, angel," suguru says. "i must've gone too soft on you."
who goes to land one last strike, and you can't take it anymore. you're kicking away as best as you can, panting with your cries as your voice goes ragged.
"rose!!" you call, completely beyond yourself. "please, no more, please- i'm sorry! rose!"
suguru freezes, his hardened facade washing away. he breaks past the air of anger that he's been submerged in and sees the way you cry as he holds you up, your pearly tears dribbling past your chin as you continue to beg him to have mercy on you under your trembling breath.
"shit," he curses, slowly releasing your hair and easing your head back down. "i hear you, angel. loud and clear."
he hastily undoes your bind and tosses it to the side, setting your wrists free. you quiver, sinking over his lap. suguru catches a glimpse of the marks he has left once more, watching the blooming of purples and reds spread over your poor bum. he hadn't realize how bad it looked before, but he sees now just how hard he's been hitting you.
"fuck, angel, i'm sorry. i'm sorry."
his hand runs over the small of your back and he ducks down to the side of your face, which is still concealed as you cry. his brows curl and his heart lurches forward, his touch upon you now soft and delicate.
"(y/n)?"
"why'd y'spank me so hard," he hears you question into the blankets, speaking unstably amid your tears. suguru's heart drops then and there, and his entire demeanor shifts upon seeing what he's done to you.
"oh, sweet girl, i'm so fucking sorry. i'm sorry," he whispers to you soothingly, attempting to calm you. you're a wreck over his lap, shaking violently. "i don't know what happened. i don't know why i did that. i'm sorry, baby. i'm sorry."
he hisses as his thumb ghosts over his handprints, and even that has you jumping suddenly. "okay, i won't touch. i'm- shit, i really marked you up. that looks like it hurts so bad, angel, i'm sorry. i was being a dick. i don't know what came over me."
suguru slowly helps you up when you don't reply to him, and once he's got you slightly upright, you fall into his chest as you sob. his arms wrap over your upper and lower back securely, face burrowing into your shoulder. his long hair tickles your bare skin gently, his comforting scent consuming you, and you are reminded of your boyfriend's sympathy once more.
"a-are you really t-that mad?" you hiccup into his shoulder, dampening his skin with your tears.
"no," he tells you. "no, i'm not mad anymore. that wasn't- i just got carried away," he repeats. "you're okay, angel. you're perfect. i let my emotions get in the way too much."
"fe-lt like you hated me..."
"what?" he frowns, pulling back to look you in the eye. your red eyes meet his sorrowfully, and you sniff, searching for the kindness of those hazel eyes you so adore. you rediscover it the moment you look at him. "hate you? (y/n), no. don't say that. i could never hate you. i love you," he brushes your tears from your eyes and you whimper. "you're my sweet girl. my perfect angel. i would never," he says gravely. "i can't believe i made you feel that way."
"you spank hard," you pout, and he kisses your puffy lips, smoothing his hand over you hair and stroking your neck.
"i see that now. i'm sorry. i won't do that again," he kisses you again. "i'm sorry. i hate to see you cry like this. this isn't how i should make you cry."
suguru looks around and locates the bottle of water he left on the dresser prior. he leans forward, careful as to not agitate you, and grabs hold of it. "here," he unscrews the bottle around your waist and lifts it to your lips. "hydrate, baby. you need it."
you pucker your lips around the bottle as he eases it upward, easing the fluid into your mouth as you drink. "that's my girl."
once you're done, he leans down to put the bottle on the floor and slowly guides you off of him and onto your stomach after kissing your lips once more.
"what do you want, angel? ice? you want me to massage it?" he asks you, craning down by your ear as you press your cheek to the pillow and look at him tiredly.
"both," you say softly.
"yes ma'am. i'll be right back."
suguru spends the rest of the night treating you, rolling his cool hands ever so carefully over your bruises, cupping your ass, and massaging out the stings to increase blood flow. your brows arch and you moan into the pillow as he does so.
"i know, i know," he murmurs. "promise, i'll make it better. try to calm down for me."
he's kissing softly over the handprints, whispering endless apologies before applying ice every now and then. eventually, the pain begins to calm and subside as your senses dull, and suguru rubs circles over your waist.
"sugu?" you mutter after an extended period of silence.
the dark-haired man ducks down, gazing over your now serene features. "hm?"
he sees the corners of your lips pull upward subtly as you close your eyes. "you're mean, you know that?"
he puff of amused air blows through his nose as he nods, stroking your temple. "i know. i'm the meanest, angel. i'm sorry."
kento nanami:
kento nanami is a man among men, a perfect gentleman, the blueprint for all partners. he loves you dearly, and he takes any chance he can to show you or remind you of this love he harbors for you.
nanami treats you as though you are the only womann to grace this planet, and in many ways, that is exactly how he sees you. he dotes on you and makes you feel as though you are a queen among peasants, sending you flowers nearly every day, writing you sweet letters, cooking you dinner, keeping his hand to your waist to guide you close to him when you walk around in public, cooking your meals, and buying you every possible thing you could ever even mention wanting.
he's an angel. he's your dream man, and he's all yours and you're all his.
when kento is intimate with you, he likes to take his time. he likes to drag out every second of his fingers touching you and his lips ghosting over your body. he likes to admire you, every single part down to the last detail. he is never in any rush, and why should he be? why would he want this to end? you're his lovely woman, and you deserve every second of pleasure he has to offer you.
he handles you so lovingly, holding your gaze and intertwining his fingers with yours as he strokes into you deeply, a haze of raw passion capturing you both as you breathe into each other, fall into one another's longing gazes, and intertwine like pretty strokes of paint mixing into one another on a canvas.
he's enamored by you, kissing over your neck and listening to your pulse against his skin as he makes love to you, keeping you close, flush to him. tendrils of soft blonde hair sprinkle over your forehead as his lips meet yours, bodies rocking passionately. you can feel the fondness in the way he presses into you, the way he holds you, and you feel so feather light as your head floats into the clouds and heaven encaptures you in the bliss of his hold.
nanami is afraid of hurting you when you have sex. he tends to always handle you with care solely because of this fear of his, and while he has his moments of letting just a little bit more loose, of handling you just a little bit rougher, of pushing in just a little bit deeper, he doesn't want to overwhelm you to the point where you are in pain.
you, of course, spur him on and encourage him to let go. you don't believe that nanami would ever hurt you, or at least do so to the point of irreversible damage, but he still gives you a safe word to use for any time you may feel more sensitive than normal or need a break or simply want him to stop because he's making you uncomfortable. you never thought that you would need such a thing with him, but you had unfortunately been wrong.
it isn't even nanami's fault, per say. you like to push yourself more than nanami really approves, and while you can handle it just fine, you find a moment when you overestimate yourself.
you've been riding kento at his desk chair, your hands gripping his shoulders as his hands clutch your hips. his head is tossed back, normally neatly combed haired tousled messily, and his chocolate eyes drink you in through heavy lids. a chorus of hushed moans leave your lips as you work yourself down onto him, rolling your hips, grinding over him, and sliding up and down swiftly.
the blonde's lashes flutter as he watches you, a sight so beautiful and a sensation so purely exquisite that he can not bear to look away.
you lean down to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest to his unbuttoned dress shirt. his hands run over your back on instinct, eyes falling closed as he pants into your shoulder.
"ken," you pur into his ear. "fuck up into me, please..."
and normally kento would think on it more, but hell, you just feel too good for him to deny such a polite request. he obliges, gripping your hips and holding you down, planting his feet securely into the carpet and sheathing his throbbing length upward and into your welcoming, gummy walls.
"oh, sweetheart," he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist and burrowing his nose into the crook of your neck with furrowed brows. "you feel so perfect like this."
"fuckkk, ken," you whine.
after a while, you push yourself down at a faster pace, attempting to catch up with his strokes and speed him up. kento grunts, holding you tighter and understanding the message as he thrusts up into you faster.
soon, the sound of his hips slapping into your ass lifts into the air throughout his home office, and you're whining into him, rutting yourself down with him.
nanami's groaning into you, pace a bit wilder as he mimics your behavior. he's got a hand slid up your neck and into your hair as the other holds your waist down, no longer allowing you to move the way you had before as his thrusts proceed.
you're squelching around him, moaning prettily and growing louder by the second until nanami shifts slightly, sitting up straighter and holding you still as he fucks up into you.
he's rougher, as you had physically and verbally requested of him. while this isn't the first time he's handled you a bit harder, it's the first time you feel the weight of his tip bruise your insides with his position, his speed, and his access.
you gasp, breath hitching in your throat as pleasure rather quickly transitions into discomfort, and you squirm. you want to take it, you love taking him so much, but the longer he pulls you further into the harsh push of his dick into your cervix, the more painful it begins to feel.
you grip into nanami's hair, squeezing the muscles in your face as you breathe out heavily. it only takes a few more thrusts that slam into you way too harshly before you tap against his back.
"ah- ken, ken, hold on- mm- yellow!"
nanami stops even before the word leaves your mouth, pulling you off of him with haste as you wince. he sets you back down on his thighs, and you can feel his length twitching against your ass as he looks over you with pinched brows.
he looks so pretty, still thoroughly consumed with lust, captured by worry for your well-being. his hands remain on your waist as he looks over you sternly. "tell me where sweetheart. how did i hurt you?"
you already feel bad as your walls clench around nothing, rather disappointed in yourself. you tremble slightly, looking down. "sorry- i just... it just started hurting for a sec."
"i was going too roughly?" he asks you for clarification, warm brown hues of care looking up at you. he looks torn, devastated that he had broken the one promise he had made to himself about harming you in such a vulnerable state.
"it wasn't you, ken, i didn't think it would hurt that much," you say dejectedly, a tad woozy from the way you had just been handled. it wasn't as though you didn't enjoy it, your body had just reacted differently and reminded you of your limits with taking ken in such a way.
"of course it was me, honey, i'm not sure what you mean," he says softly, his thumb smoothing over your spine. "i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i never meant to hurt you. i must have allowed myself to get too worked up."
"it's okay, ken," you shush him, taking his face gently in your hands. he gazes at you, frustrated with himself but eyes so full of love for you, the darkness in his eyes still swimming about. "you always tell me to reel it in, but you just make me feel so good. i always want more of you. i pushed a little too hard."
"honey," nanami begins, taking one of your wrists in his veiny hand and turning to press a kiss to your palm. "i still would never blame you in this situation. i know better. i apologize sincerely. how badly does it hurt?"
"...it's not that bad, ken. it was just a sting."
"it doesn't matter," he shakes his head. "i think that's enough intimacy for today. i can not stand the thought of hurting you any further."
you give him a sad look. "but it wasn't all your fault, ken," you frown.
nanami smiles at you softly and leans in to press a long, gentle kiss to your lips. he pulls away from you and meets your gorgeous eyes. "i love you, sweetheart," he declares so warmly, so honestly and you return the sentiment without a second thought, heart thrumming.
"i love you more."
"let me run a bath for you, okay? then after, we can relax and order some food. i can give you a nice massage, too. how does that sound?"
"...can i massage you too?"
nanami laughs slightly. "darling, i'm not the one who got hurt."
"i don't care. i wanna help you relax too. you always have so much tension."
"i'm relaxed any time i'm with you. and you certainly were helping me relax a few minutes ago. perhaps, a bit too much."
you pout and he kisses you again, his soft lips warm and enticing against your own. "ken," you murmur against his lips as he draws himself back, rubbing his palm over your spine and sliding your shirt back down from its scrunched state.
"yes, my love?"
"i still want you."
he gives you a firm, warning look. "(y/n), i said that's enough. you need to rest a bit. you just said that you have the tendency to push yourself when it comes to sex."
"i know, but," you push your bottom lip out and lean back up against his chest, arms draping over his shoulders again. "it doesn't have to be sex. you can just... eat me out."
you feel nanami's chest stutter against you as he breathes out heavily. "you're playing a dangerous game, you know that?"
"please?" you beg, dragging your nose against his neck. "you're always gentle. and it feels so good... all you have to do is hold me down, i won't get hurt in any way with your tongue on me, i swear."
a groan rumbles in nanami's chest and you can feel his dick twitch back to life against you. you smile lazily, leaning back to look him in the eye. "pleaseee?"
"only if you behave," he accepts, raising his brows. "i'm serious. i will go the pace i want to go, and you'll take it. slowly."
you bite the inside of your lip and nod, a pretty smile gracing your face. nanami hums, curving his hand over the back of your head and bringing you to his lips again.
"what am i going to do with you?"
choso kamo:
your brown-haired boyfriend is new to a plethora of human emotions and habits, yet sex is one thing he adjusts to rather eagerly and skillfully thanks to your influence.
choso is ever so inquisitive, seeking to explore every part of you so that he can ingrain your body and its incredible functions into his mind, so he can adapt, so he can improve, and you can confidently say that he proceeds to do so with each passing moment he studies, loves, and cares for you.
choso gets pretty flustered by you easily. you introduce him to not only a world of your love and affection, but a world of vulnerability, pleasure, and sensual exploration. he learns fast, the goal of making you happy driving him forward into picking up on the things you show him incredibly swiftly.
he's so handsy with you, unsure of how to properly convey all that you make him feel so he frequently clobbers you, enveloping you, consuming you in a needy daze, repetitively chanting about how he loves you and how beautiful you are, and how amazing you make him feel, how he never wants to let you go. he's pathetically obsessed with you, longing for your touch at any given moment yet he always allows you to initiate your intimacy first before he completely drowns in you. he's still working on managing himself around you as well as his own urges to refrain from acting out of line, being too forward, or misreading situations. he wants to be perfect for you, and never in your relationship does choso ever want to misstep or misread what you want.
getting him to vocalize when and how he wants you is one thing, but once you've started, sending him a text about how you need him, or running your hand down his thigh a little closer to his crotch underneath the table, or giving him that certain look in your eye that can only mean one thing, then he's completely and utterly unraveling at the very second you give him the green light.
choso's sloppy and uncoordinated but it doesn't matter and he doesn't care because all he's after is you, and when he has you, his brain goes numb, his hands, his dick, his everything are acting with a mind of their own.
the two of you are hot gasps and nasty sloppy noises as the purple eyed man above you pleads for you, though you're right there, aching for more until he can't even breathe.
you think choso is so beautiful like this, lips parted and brows curled as though he's going to cry from the euphoria. his brown hair falls over his shoulders and sticks to his forehead, free from the updo that he always wears, and for someone who can manipulate the blood in his body, he is beet red in the face as he watches the way he disappears into you.
choso would never hurt you. not in a million years. he would die before he hurt you, standing in front of oncoming traffic and sacrificing himself for the sake of your life.
therefore, when his crooked fingers are rocketing into your sopping walls as you cream over and over on his three digits, his lips slurping over your clit with your fingers lace into his hair and tugging at his scalp, he doesn't expect you to stop him.
he's only thinking of how you taste so sweet on his tongue, how your gorgeous pussy makes that squelching noise the deeper he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, and god, the way his dick twitches every time you pull at his hair- he can hardly tell if you're trying to yank him away or to pull him closer at this point, but he's not even thinking about that. he's not thinking at all.
he’s groaning and humming into you, whining in between breaths about how he just can’t get enough, but his fingers are beginning to thrust too fast, too far inside of your walls.
his noises shift between guttural, deep growls and shaky, heavy-pitched breaths. though you love every sound, you begin to feel yourself rejecting the feeling as it grows far too swift, too hard, too overpowering.
"c-cho," you whimper, your thighs moving to push you away, but he keeps you down with his free forearm to your lower abdomen. "baby, i c-can't- ah!"
his noises rise over your pleads and he doesn't stop, and you can feel an uncomfortable knot building in your stomach in addition to the ache inside you. you wince, the overlapping sensations proving to be way too much at once.
your hand pushes at his forehead rather harshly. "cho-! ngh- pinaepple!"
choso's brows twitch as he processes what you just said, his mind still not completely comprehending, but after a second or two, he rips himself away as though he's burned you.
panic swirls in his violet eyes, his saliva and your slick shining over his chin up to his nose. he looks up at you over your thighs, but you don't see because you're leaning your head back in relief and breathing heavily.
"did you just say your safeword?" he asks in a rush, ensuring that he has registered your words properly.
you nod stiffly, furrowing your brows. "y-yeah, m'sorry," you breathe. "i couldn't take anymore."
choso's pupils shrink as though you've just told him that all life is ending as you know it. his heart hammers through his chest, and he instantly peels away from your now cold sex to swipe his fingers on the bed, ridding himself of any reminder that he has pushed you too much.
he crawls up to see your face, caging his arms over you. his muscles tense as he looks over your expression, brows knitted and eyes glossy. you eventually open your eyes again, having sensed his presence over you.
"(y/n), i'm sorry," he apologizes so earnestly like it's the very last thing he'll ever say to you. he's suddenly deadly serious, firm, and ashamed of himself. "you've never used our word before. i... i didn't realize what i was doing to you."
"cho," you say his name softly. he tilts his head further down to you, his brows curling in sadness. "it's okay, baby. stuff like this happens."
"what do you mean?" he frowns, hand coming over your cheek the moment yours lifts to hold his. "this has never happened to us before. i'm not sure how i let it, either."
"i just mean in general," you clarify softly. you can feel your eyes growing heavier and your speech slurring. choso notices as well, keeping his hand on your face so that you remain with him, cognizant of his gaze and his touch.
"this has happened to you before?" he asks, slightly horrified and simultaneously agitated by the very idea. "when? with who?"
"baby, i'm trying to tell you mistakes happen," you laugh softly. "no, this hasn't happened to me before, but i'm saying we have a safe word for a reason for when these things do happen."
"oh," he murmurs. "but i never wanted you to actually have to use it..."
"well, how else would we learn about each other if we didn't run into things like this?" you smile warmly at him. choso's face blooms with further heat, humming to himself as he looks at you.
"tell me."
"tell you what?"
"tell me exactly what it was that i did. i'll be sure not to make the same mistake twice. i swear. i'm so sorry for hurting you," he declares, determined.
"it wasn't that bad, love," you assure him.
"i still want to know. i need to know."
"it was just the way you were using your fingers, and i was already super sensitive."
"...so, you don't want me to use my fingers on you anymore?"
"oh, god, no," you say, and you can see choso visibly relax.
"oh... okay, good. i would have stopped if you wanted me to, but i was hoping that wasn't it. i love fingering you."
your tired smile spreads as you lift your other hand to curl into his hair, scratching gently. his lashes flutter, heavy eyes matching your own. "i love when you finger me too, cho. just maybe next time, be gentler... only because you'd already made me cum so much. my body was just tired and i don't think it could keep up anymore."
he nods, taking in every word you say. "i understand. that makes sense, i'm sorry. i should have checked on you and asked."
"it's okay, baby, you don't have to keep apologizing."
"but i just can't stomach that i-"
"it's. okay," you whisper slowly, pulling him down to meet your lips with his in a delicate peck where you can smell yourself on his breath.
he sighs when you pull away, face twisted irritably. "are you sure, baby? you're not just saying that?"
"of course," you say softly. "it was just one little thing. that's all. i'm okay."
choso almost looks reluctant to accept your dismissal of the situation. he somehow feels like he needs to be reprimanded more for it, and you can tell simply by the way he stares at you.
"cho," you giggle. "stop, i told you i'm fine."
"i know. you're too sweet to me, (y/n)," he murmurs. "i wanna make it up to you. can i? is there anything i can do to make you feel better? please tell me."
you swoon internally at just how much cares. "can you just cuddle me please?"
"yes. absolutely, yes."
the brunette moves to kiss your forehead, then helps ease your legs over so that you are settled comfortably over the bed. before he lays down, he is reminded of the dampness beneath you, coating your inner thighs and creeping up to your belly button.
"love, do you have a towel?" he asks you gently as you start to curl over to him. "i need to clean you up, don't i? i made kind of a mess."
"later, cho," you mumble tugging at his bicep. "just want to be close to you right now."
he's torn momentarily. he's always quick to cater to what you ask of him, to just silently yet happily comply with whatever you need, but he knows that the second he gathers you in his arms, sleep is going to take over the both of you as it normally does after sex. the last thing he wants is for you to be laying in a sticky pool of your own arousal. he imagines you waking up uncomfortable, and it doesn't sit well with him.
"hold on a minute," he tells you. you look up curiously as he kisses your cheek and slides his arm slowly from you to stand. your hand slips into his before you release him reluctantly.
"cho?" you call him with big eyes, and the brunette almost gives in right there.
"just one more second. i remember us always doing this, and i don't want to neglect you now."
"...but-"
"one second. i promise, love."
you sigh and accept it. the moment you say okay, choso is practically sprinting to your bathroom and back with a towel. you can't help but smile gently as he hurriedly, yet gently, cleans you dry, holding your legs in his palm and easing them to the side when he's done.
"do you have to pee?" he asks you rather bluntly, gazing up at you as he folds the towel and places it on the ground.
you groan at the thought. "yeah, but i don't feel like it."
"that's okay. i'll take you."
"to pee?" you quirk a brow.
"yes?" he answers as though you questioning the thought is absurd. "i don't want you to go yourself. you're tired."
"yeah, but then that means you'll just be listening to me."
"(y/n), i've seen every part of you. i don't care about watching you pee."
"why would you want to hear or watch me in the first place?" you whine.
"to make sure it doesn't hurt you when you do."
"cho, baby, you did not hurt me that bad. oh my god," you run a hand over your face and shake your head with your laughter.
"i just want to make sure you're alright. i can close my eyes if it helps," he says stubbornly, leaning down to gather you slowly into his arms. your arms go to wrap over his neck as he lifts you up and walks you off.
"it's honestly fine whatever you do, cho, i just think it's a little funny."
"to worry?"
"nooo," you sigh, knocking your head against his shoulder. "nevermind."
choso responds with a peck to your head before sitting you down in the restroom. once the both of you are settled, you're back in bed under the covers. choso holds you with your back to his chest, palming soothingly over your abdomen as you drift off to sleep with the feeling of his chest rising and falling against you.
"(y/n)," cho's voice rumbles into you. you hum contentedly half asleep, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "thank you for being honest with me. i love you. i love you so much."
"mmm. i love you too, cho. thank you for always listening to me."
toji fushiguro:
toji, mentally and physically, can not get enough of you, especially after long stressful days on the job. when he comes home from work and is greeted by the sight of your pretty face after having had guns pointed at his head, blood spilling on his face, and the weight of exhaustion and sore muscles hanging on his back, seeing you is like seeing the gates of heaven after death.
the assassin is always so quick to fall over you, pressing you to him and smothering you in long, deep, hot kisses as he walks you back or picks you up to carry you to your bedroom, or to the shower, or hell, even to the countertop in the kitchen.
toji fucking loves being inside you. he loves tasting you on his lips, feeling you clench around his fingers, watching you squeeze over his heavy cock as he sinks into you with a guttural groan and a devilish smirk. he loves the way your soft skin feels beneath his calloused hands, he loves licking the salty-sweet sweat from your neck as you toss your head back, he loves the sound of your pussy gushing around him with each slow stroke that inevitably transitions into ruthless pounding.
god, he loves fucking you as much as he loves you, and the moment he's got you in his arms with a week of stress pent up within his chest, he's pouring all if it straight into the way he fucks you, and he gets lost in the euphoria that is you.
you're such a pretty thing beneath him, so small compared to his bulking frame, and he is obsessed with it. one second, he's stroking in leisurely, absorbing every second of the way he slides his girth between your gummy walls, soaking up the way you greedily drag him back in with each thrust. and the next, you're in a mating press and he's grunting into your mouth through a sloppy lip lock, slamming in rhythmically, stilling his cock inside you for a second longer each time so that you can feel just had deep he is, just how deliciously he's stretching you open. hell, he doesn't even know when or how it happens. he just knows that you have him whipped, and his stress melts away with each drag of his seed he pumps into you after the umpteenth round.
"fuckin' hell, doll, keep drainin' my cock just like that. thaaaaat's it, pretty baby- hah, fuck- take me so deep inside this perfect lil' pussy..."
toji has always been well aware of the size difference between the two of you. he's always been a freakishly large man, and that fact of course applies to the generous width of the monster he carries between his legs. he knows you struggle at times when he has to take a good minute or two to help you relax as he eases himself into you while you whine, that his size can be a bit overwhelming, but you've accustomed to him so well that he completely forgets about how much stronger, heavier, and bigger he is- especially so when he is stressed.
he is, however, unfortunately, reminded after he has curled your lower half up from the bed with your legs over his shoulder. your knees are hovering by your ears as he plants himself over you with his feet on the bed, holding onto your hips and pounding himself down into you almost vertically, keeping you flush against his torso.
his day had been particularly long and grueling, and the job he had been on took far longer than expected just for his client to argue with him about some bullshit once he had finished. toji's irritated, and he's fucking you like he is.
normally you don't have much of a problem with that, but this position he's got you in has you widening your eyes and practically screaming. he's too deep, pushing in too hard, and this angle gives you no room to squirm away or for his dick to angle anywhere but straight into your guts. it hurts, and his face is tense with blazing jade irises of fury, fingers digging into your skin bruisingly, and he's on the verge of going impossibly harder.
you choke, scrunching your face and moving to press against him. when he starts to reach for your hand and pin it down, you shout.
"orange!" you cry. "stop, toji, orange!"
he instantly stills, face falling as he stares down at you in shock. "oh shit, baby, for real?"
you nod quickly with a tight face and he's retracting within seconds, pulling out carefully and bringing your legs back down to the mattress.
"fuck, alright," he says, climbing over you and pulling you down gently. "sorry, baby, was it the angle?"
you don't say much, only nod again as you fight the tears that prick the corners of your eyes. you keep your eyes closed and toji wraps you up, laying back on his side and pulling you into his chest. he feels your legs twitching against his and your shoulders shaking as he holds you, and remorse floods his chest. "talk to me."
"w-was too deep, toji," you shudder, whispering shakily into him. "s'big, and that angle- it hurt."
toji's heart clenches as he holds you tighter around your shoulders. he kisses your forehead, pressing his lips to your hair. "i didn't realize, baby, i'm sorry."
"i told you it was too much..."
"i know, doll, but i didn't think you meant it. you usually don't."
"s'why i said... the word."
"yeah, you did. you did exactly what you were supposed to. good girl, doll," he praises, rubbing over your back slowly. he's never seen you look so pained in such an intimate space with you. the way your brows were pinched angrily when he looked up, the way your teeth bared in a soft grimace, the way you pushed against him and wanted him to get off, it breaks his heart. he feels like a complete piece of shit, especially so because he didn't notice until your safeword came flying out of your mouth.
"i'm sorry," he apologizes again. "i should've been payin' attention. i had a bad day... fuck, sorry."
you can tell he's remorseful, and that combined with the fact that you've been fucked stupid for the past hour and a half has you shaking your head against him forgivingly, head dizzy as you finally take a moment to collect yourself. "it's okay," you mumble into his neck lightly.
"it's not, doll. it ain't even fun or sex anymore if i'm hurtin' you," he frowns. you make a soft noise but don't respond to him verbally. toji looks down at you, gently lifting your head to catch the fuzzy look in your eye. "you hearin' me? you okay?"
you nod dumbly, a hint of unease pinching your brows when your legs twitch again and the ache in your core throbs. you burrow your face in toji's neck and he sighs.
"i gotta get you cleaned up, doll. then i'll make up for it."
"wait," you mumble the moment you feel him pulling away. he stops as you cling to him, peering up at him through sleepy lashes. "don't go."
"i'm just gettin' you a towel. i'll be right back."
you look at him sadly once he has completely torn away from you and stood at the edge of the bed. he watches the way you bring your knees to your chest and look up at him with sleepy, desperate eyes. toji exhales, tilting his head.
"you want me to take you with me?"
"yes..."
he allows himself to smile lightly in amusement. "alright, but you're not walkin' anywhere, you understand?"
he leans down and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. he hoists you up cautiously by your bum, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso. you cringe slightly at the action, your legs burning after having endured such exertion, and toji can feel you shift against him as he holds you with one arm by your waist.
"that's not comfortable, is it?" he turns to your face, but it has already disappeared into his neck. you don't respond and toji exhales at the stubborn clinginess that you resort to in this fucked out state at the cost of your comfort.
he aids you by holding one of your thighs gently as he walks to your bathroom to retrieve the things he needs. with one hand holding you and the other gripping some cloths, he carries you back into your room and sets you softly onto your back on the cushions.
he gently unwinds your legs from around him and kneels on the bed beside you. he ducks down to kiss you softly, and you hum in satisfaction against him before he pulls away, stroking your forehead.
"close your eyes, doll. let me take care of ya."
a warm rag runs over your body, wiping over dark hickeys and lines of sweat. his lips follow in the cloth's wake, kissing over any part of you that he deems he has treated too roughly in his haste to relieve himself of stress.
he reaches your thighs, where the most pain resides, and presses his lips to them softly. his fingers run over your calves, up the sides of your plush flesh and he proceeds to pepper kisses between your legs, swiping the cloth over your damp entrance tentatively, keeping his eyes on your face to ensure that he isn't further harming you. you do jerk slightly, but that is the extent of your physical reaction.
"i got you, don't worry."
the second you feel the cloth leave you, toji's hands are pulling you up again, moving you around so that he can lay flat on his back beside you. you open your eyes, watching him curiously.
"come lay on me, baby," he guides you by your arm.
you do as he says, easing yourself chest-first onto of him and allowing your body to sink into his heat. his hands come over you and his palms work into the knots in your lower back, over your bum, and in your shoulder blades. he kneads into the balls of tightness, rolling over and rubbing them through lazily.
your eyes flutter at the relieving sensation, the green-eyed man's rough hands smoothing to rid your body of excess tension. "there you go," he kisses your shoulder. "i'll make you feel better, i promise. no more pain for my girl."
"love you, toj," you whisper sleepily into his skin.
"love you too. i'm sorry for hurtin' you. i'll be more careful."
ryomen sukuna: you know sukuna to be rough in all aspects of his life, and that certainly does not change when it comes to the two of you having sex- in fact, that very trait of his is enhanced. the moment he slips inside of you, he's pushing your head face first into the pillows, gripping your waist or your thighs or your throat with his large palms as to prevent you from running away, spitting into your mouth, fisting your hair, leaving red bite marks in his wake, anything he possibly can to remind you that you are his to devour whole.
you've always enjoyed the way he tosses you around or fucks you over the velvet pad of his throne, or holds you almost violently by the thighs in the air and spears you down on his ungodly thick cock while sitting at the edge of your bed with his feet planted into the floor. he knows he's not gentle with you, but aggression is the only way he knows to take you by, to show you how much you drive him fucking crazy, to bask in your enchanting screeches and your doll-like, hazy expressions.
and like the good girl he knows you to be, you take him every single time, and it spurs him on. it encourages him to plow harder, to grip tighter, to render you completely immobile beneath him as he ruts himself into you like it's the end of the fucking world and the only way for him to survive is to fuck you like a worthless whore, though you're nothing close to one.
while he always leaves you in a pool of your mixed fluids on the verge of losing consciousness, shaking like a leaf kissed by the breeze, you've never expressed an inability or refusal to handle him. you take him so well for a human, and sukuna's captivated by your strength, your insatiable desire when he's bullying his dick into your swollen cunt. while you get overstimulated, or hell even beg him to go slower or softer, he knows you don't really want him to stop because you haven't uttered the one word that he told you to reserve only for the times you feel you are beyond discomfort.
that is, until a few seconds ago, when the muffled word rips from your hoarse throat through the ball of your panties he's stuffed into your mouth.
sukuna's on top of you, pressing his heavy weight over your back with his arms wrapped under your frame and his thighs crushing in on your on. you're on your stomach, tears dribbling from your eyes and down your face as sukuna finally stills inside you after having thrusted painfully into your cervix over and over. he's so deep inside you, and he wants you to feel. he wanted to see how much further he could break you in, but clearly, he had mistakenly forgotten that you are still fragile.
the king of curses' eyes go wide, and he rips an arm from under you to tear the gag from your mouth. you heave out a sob, face falling into the pillows as you murmur your safeword again, a string of practically unintelligible spent moans that only sukuna can understand because he's never heard you utter that word before.
"red, red, red," you snivel, and sukuna's face relaxes.
"i heard you," he murmurs gruffly. "give me a moment."
you whine as your entire body collapses with the withdrawal of sukuna's arms from your body. he sighs heavily, looking over your marked skin as he smoothes a hand up your spine. you flinch with a whimper, and he clicks his teeth.
"this is what happens when you grow cocky."
"h-hurts, kuna. too hard," he thinks he hears you simper.
"never heard you say that before," he murmurs. "know your limits, woman."
he slowly eases himself out of your warmth with a clenched jaw and angled brows, watching your arousal gush onto the sheets the moment he's pulled back. you jump and curl further up into the pillow.
"oh my, how far have i taken you this time?" he hums, watching as you squirm under even the slightest touch he gives.
"ryooo," you whine.
"alright, alright," he comes back down over your limp body, curling his fingers over your forehead to pull your face up and gently brush your sweaty hair away. your eyes are closed as he turns inward to look over you, caressing your damp cheek softly. you're so warm, so shaky beneath him. your brows are pinched together in pain and exhaustion, and your lips are wobbling. hell, he's never seen you look so weak before.
"hey," he coaxes gently, voice rumbling tenderly against your back through his toned abdominals. you're releasing a series of trembles, broken hums, likely unsure of where you even are, and sukuna curses internally. he softens. "what do you need, peach?" he asks you in a low whisper.
your response is near incomprehensible, but sukuna is already thinking and moving before you even open your mouth. he exhales heavily and presses himself back up so that he can stand and gather you in his arms. you whimper when he goes to delicately flip you over.
"relax," he orders softly, smearing the wetness away from your cheek and smoothing his hands over your heated skin. you obey him to the best of your ability as he pulls you up.
as though it is muscle memory, you lean into his bare chest once he is holding you bridal style. you continue to tremble, and sukuna's crimson eyes roam your body carefully. he's truly done a number on you this time.
normally when it came to baths, sukuna would have one of his servants or uraume run them for you, but instead, he feels the need to take the duty on himself as he carries you into your large connected restroom. he sets you down within the inhumanly large royal tub slowly, and the moment he pulls from you, you reach for him lazily in retort as your head rolls back against the rim.
"be patient, i am not going anywhere."
he reaches to turn on the faucet as hot water streams around your feet. he's hasty with his movements, focused, knowing that you do not desire to be cold in this moment. he stands to retrieve the oils and soaps he's purchased solely for your pleasure and sits back down beside the tub.
"open your eyes," he reaches in to cradle your chin. you scrunch your lids and tilt your head to him, peeling your blurry eyes on his command. "lavender or peppermint. pick one."
your eyes weakly drift to the array of bottoms lined on the ledge. "lavender," you request tiredly.
your voice is so small, so light, a heady contrast to the way you normally challenge him with your playful tone. sukuna looks at you momentarily, soaking in your sweet mellow state, before retrieving the said bottle and pouring it into the rising steamy water.
he keeps a hand on your shoulder, rubbing over a bite mark with his thumb, as bubbles, soothing fragrances, and petals fall into the tub one by one. the hot water crowds over your bare skin, alleviating the dull ache between your legs and the stings of the marks on your skin.
sukuna holds an intense look of focus, swishing his arm around the water to ensure that all the properties he has included mix together well. you watch him, dazed, cheek propped against the porcelain with heavy (e/c) eyes studying his attentiveness. he feels your eyes on him, but only raises a brow at you once the bath is finished.
you truly aren't all there.
sukuna rises to his feet, slipping his arms behind you and under your own to hold you up as he steps inside with you.
you let him manuever you, your body too exhausted to dare to try to move. he pulls you flush against his chest, his thighs crowding over your own. you sigh out, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he brings a cloth over you, washing away remnants of spit and cum, massaging into the aches of your body wordlessly.
his chin comes down over your shoulder while his hands wind over your waist to stroke your legs. his fingers dance gently over your inner thighs, up your abdomen, ghosting over your neck. he's everywhere, and for the first time, in a supple, tender way, as though he is polishing glass that he does not wish to break.
you're humming, breathing steadily, chest rising deeply and slowly. sukuna's hands curve to smooth over your tits, and you flinch, leading him to smirk lightly. "sensitive, are we?" you pout, brows curling, and he turns his lips to your neck. "calm down, brat, i'm not going to push you. keep still."
his palms work over the sore plush of your breasts and you melt, arching into him as he massages over you with such care. a weak moan threatens to escape you and sukuna shakes his head. "do not. that is what led you here in the first place."
his hands release your tits and follow the curve of your body downward once more. he continues his massaging and caressing of your body until you're no longer twitching.
his hands fall over your hips, smoothing over your stomach. he lifts up slightly to look down at you. "are you still in pain?"
you take a moment to respond, but eventually, your eyes open again and they meet sukuna's lax gaze. despite the permanent angle of his brows, he appears calm before you, mutely compassionate.
you lean against him, holding his gaze, and shake your head slightly, a bit of your senses slowly returning. "only a little between my legs," you murmur.
he hums. "and how would you expect me to tend to this pain?"
you don't say anything, but the soft glint in your eye speaks for you as sukuna's hand slowly trails down your stomach and past your clit lightly. you inhale sharply, still thoroughly sensitive.
sukuna's eyes look over the whole of your face. "do you wish me to massage your sore cunt from the inside? is that what you so desire?"
you moan out a gentle sigh, heavy lids falling over your eyes in a blink as you nod helplessly against him. "slowly..." you murmur.
"you are insatiable," he mumbles lowly. his fingers ghost over the lips of your pussy, circling them gently before sinking past and sliding into your warm walls.
your mouth parts and your head knocks back as sukuna watches you closely. the water swishes around your legs as you move, sukuna's lips crushing slowly over your mouth.
"i suppose i can assist as a reward for you speaking up."
Being put through the mattress until they're at the brink of exhaustion and collapse on top of you.. crushing you beneath their weight.. lazily rolling their hips against yours while their cock softens and mumbling into your neck that you can survive a few more seconds
