• I’m a fic writer who’s obsessed with… the Pitt, jjk, and Superman :)
• I have a separate blog for my Creepypasta interests/writing ( @lachrymose-doe )
• I’m a Pisces, a film nerd, and an anime geek
• I mostly yap on here about anything I can think of
• Not much other than that, everyone is welcome, if something is NSFT it will be tagged as that so it can be avoided by those who don’t want to see that
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pervy bf!choso who gets hard when you yell at him.
pervy bf!choso who has a sweat kink.
pervy bf!choso who gets off to the thought of you stepping on him.
pervy bf!choso who’ll eat you out anywhere, anytime. Whether it’s after you’ve came back from the gym, in a empty parking lot, or even in a random public bathroom. He’s always up to it.
pervy bf!choso who loves getting smacked by you during sex.
pervy bf!choso who desperately wants you to peg him. But he’s too nervous to ask you.
pervy bf!choso who loves using your panties as a gag when he jerks off.
pervy bf!choso who uses your cum as coffee creamer.
pervy bf!choso who loves being bossed around by you.
pervy bf!choso who wears a collar with your name on it under his clothes. He loves knowing that you own him, that he’s yours.
synopsis . In which it takes a total of sixty nine days of living with Choso for the two of you to realize you’re both terribly down bad for one another. He’d been crushing on you hard (pun intended) from the day you moved in with him, and while living with you is easy, being around you almost all day every day like this is turning him into someone he can't recognize. So much so that you should be concerned. Except, you're not?
content . afab!reader, perv x perv, filth, dirty talk, virgin!choso, dub-con (considering all the perversion), switch dynamics, porn w no plot, choso’s down bad but so is reader, pet names, lots of dry humping/humping in general, he watches a lot of porn, loser!cho, awkwardness, embarrassment, premature ejec (he cums a lot), creampies, implied breeding kink, panty sniffing/stealing, getting caught, reader makes him suck a copy of his own dick, possessiveness, manhandling, scent kink(?), oral sex (f!receiving), he's literally disgusting, missionary, he calls reader mommy on “accident” a few times, eventual rough sex, etc.
word count . 11k (cannot tell ya how tht happened tbh) || author's note: mostly based on this drabble & the many requests i got for this!! banner art from “Lady K and the Sick Man”
Day Two: The Phone Incident.
Choso should’ve known how severely fucked he was from the moment he got hard after handing you your phone.
And yes, that is as crazy as it sounds.
You didn’t even notice it—as you were much too busy trying to get to some phone call—but this was the first time in a whopping forty-eight hours of living with you that Choso had experienced this kinda thing.
Something about holding a device of which your fingers spent the majority of the day wrapped around drove him crazy. Perhaps it was the indirect touch, or the fact that his hand faintly smelled like yours afterwards, but either way—he felt a sudden twitch in his pants that he just couldn’t ignore.
He’d accepted the fact that he was attracted to you when you moved in, but this?
This was absurd. Surely his body wouldn’t continue to react like this around you… right?
After handing you your device, Choso turned away all awkwardly and calmly excused himself into his room for the night. This left you to watch him walk away with slightly confused eyes as you carried on with your call, shrugging off his sudden stiffness and figuring it was nothing too serious.
Which, in a way, it wasn't. The man nearly needed a moment away from you.
A moment long enough to take care of the leaking problem in his pants, that is.
As soon as he enters his room, he lightly shuts the door and lets his head push against it with a soft thump. One hand remains on the doorknob whilst the other is just barely keeping his body standing upright. It was like a switch had gone off in his head or something.
It hasn't even been a week with you yet and there's already one thing running rampant in his mind—sex.
Choso's known you for quite some time now, which is exactly why you moving in with him when he already had a spare bedroom only made sense. But to already be losing his head over something so small makes him feel shamed with the weight of guilt.
He shouldn't touch himself. He should ignore how hard he is right now. And should definitely not think about you if he does decide to act against those two things.
...Yeah, that goes straight out the window the moment he hears you laughing from the living room.
You're still on the phone and you'd have no reason to come into his room and check on him or anything so it should be okay, no? Getting off to you once won't hurt anyone.
Clasping his bottom lip neatly in between his teeth, Choso finally moves a hand down over the fully formed bulge poking out against his sweatpants. Maybe he won't even jerk off. Maybe he'll just rub at his cock until he cums.
That should be fine.
Right?
His hand carefully cups 'n grabs at the outline of his hard shaft, his bottom lip falling loose with a moderately noisy pant breaking free from his throat. "Fuck," Choso sears just under his breath as he squeezes his eyes shut.
He shouldn't be doing this. This is wrong. You just moved in!
His hand slides over slowly, letting the friction of fabric and his palm soothe his aching arousal just a bit.
What would you think if you saw him right now? You're only a few steps away from his door, sitting all pretty in his living room. Would you be disgusted by him if you knew how he rubbed his hand against his dick to the mere thought of you? Taking his other hand—the same one that held your phone and now carries the faintest bit of your scent—and slowly bringing it up to his nose to smell.
His palm reeks in your lotion. You must've used it recently, huh? Probably right before touching your phone for the last time, he thinks.
Choso's other hand squeezes around the head of his dick, feeling something nasty beginning to wet up his boxers. Fuck, he feels gross for doing this. He's all hunched up against his bedroom door, body flinching whenever he hears your voice a little clearer from beyond it, and cock jumping with each whiff he takes of his palm.
His mouth flails open a little and he nearly whines as his hand grips at his length a little tighter, slithering towards his shaft, and then letting his hips roll forward. The hand pressed up to his nose slips down to clasp over his mouth to conceal that pathetic sound, only worsening his situation as he realizes this means the smell of your lotion is practically smushed up to his lips now.
Choso feels his knees going weak all of a sudden and can't even help himself as he ditches the teasing rubbing and finally stuffs his hand down into his pants. His cock meets his hand raw with a throbbing heat he hadn't been expecting.
Quickly, before he starts letting out sounds too loud to conceal, he does his best to work himself up to an orgasm. Because of his hasty movements, it's not long before his hand is cramping up and he's jerkily thrusting his dick into his coiled fingers.
"A-Ah," Choso gasps, his lashes fluttering over something wet that'd unknowingly built up against his waterline.
Then there's a sudden knock at his door.
The poor guy nearly falls over, barely managing to grit his teeth and swallow the next array of sounds that threatened to leave him. His eyes stare down at the silhouette of your shadow under the door and he struggles to suppress a groan.
"Hey, I dunno if you're asleep already but," God, you sounded so sweet—how could he be doing this in thought of you? "I just wanted to let you know we're out of trash bags. Tried to text you but it wasn't going through."
Choso's standing here jerking off like some freak after touching something of yours and now you're standing on the other side of his door telling him you guys are out of trash bags?
How comedic.
Not that any of this stops his hand from moving. If anything, his cock feels wetter as he continues on to the sound of each word leaving your lips. Then he presses his face against his door and murmurs, "M-Mhm, thanks for... letting me know. I'll get more t-tomorrow," He grunts out.
Little did he know, his movements had only become smoother because he already came from the moment you knocked on the door. Now his briefs were filled with cum, his hand felt disgustingly sticky, and...
And you have absolutely no idea. You haven't the slightest clue that he just did something wildly perverted in your name.
Or so he thought.
——
Day Fifteen: Missing Hoodies.
A little over two weeks in and Choso's issue has only gotten worse. On the bright side of things, at least he's not the only one slowly losing his sanity in all this.
Because surely if you weren't losing your mind just as much as he was then you'd have moved out by now. Even though he's sure you're not aware of any of the things he's done so far like steal your panties just before laundry day, stuff his nose into your bath towel mere minutes after you've showered, and even use that same lotion of yours to jerk himself off.
But again, Choso is pretty sure that if you knew about any of those things he's done then you would've been out of here faster than you came in. Better yet, faster than he cums whenever you're in mind.
Which is pretty damn fast.
It's on this fifteenth day that Choso loses his first hoodie. It's a plain grey hoodie, but he noticed it's disappearance rather quickly because the last time he wore it was on the day he last spoke to Yuji—and everyone knows how attentive this man gets when it comes to his siblings.
So imagine his surprise when he's tearing his room up trying to find that hoodie to no avail. A small frown takes over his face and he lets out a long sigh before trudging out his room and towards yours.
Knocking thrice, "Are you busy?" Choso asks carefully, ears slightly quirking up at the distant sound of your bedsheets being shuffled about.
Part of him wonders what you were up to.
"If so, don't worry about it," He adds on shortly after. You hadn't even said anything yet and he was already nervous. "I didn't mean to interrupt—"
The door swings open and you're greeting him with your breath seeming as though it's lost it's way into your lungs properly. "You're not interrupting anything, Choso. What's up?" You hum rather sweetly.
"I was just wondering if you'd seen my uh-," He cuts himself short as his eyes helplessly fall downwards. Perhaps he was dreaming or something because surely you're not wearing the very thing he came looking for? Choso's hand draws up as he unintentionally points at your chest, "Is that my hoodie?"
You look down at yourself and then back up at him and shrug, "I dunno, is it?"
Maybe it was the dim hallway lighting but you swear Choso's face is getting redder by the second, a cute hue of pink flushing out over his cheek and noticeable around the dark ink stretching across the bridge of his nose.
Then his hand flies up to the back of his head, scratching beneath his dark, loose locks of hair, "Well, unless we have the same hoodie... m'pretty sure that's mine." He mumbles on.
"Oh." Is the only warning he receives before he watches your hands meet the bottom of that same hoodie, and then lift.
Oh fuck. Choso's eyes widen and all the hairs at the back of his neck seem to stand up as he watches the way you thoughtlessly pull his hoodie off of your body, revealing the very sheer tank-top you have on underneath and the lack of pants below that.
While living with you was easy, truly, there were times like this where Choso wondered if you even saw him as a man. Or if maybe you were just really comfortable around him. Because in what other world would you take off his hoodie right in front of him whilst clad in nothing more than a tank-top and a dark purple pair of panties that he's all too familiar with?
Not that you knew about the last part of that but, still. He's allowed what feels like a minute of staring and drooling before his face is met with that same hoodie of his!
"Was that all?" You ask smoothly, as if you hadn't nearly flashed him and then thrown his own clothes back at him like it was nothing.
His head nods rapidly from beneath his sweatshirt, refusing to move his body just yet in fear of where his hands may find themselves, and waiting until he hears your bedroom door shut again.
As he's left in the hallway to his own devices, Choso's slow to remove the jacket from his head. He holds it out to inspect for a moment and notices a wet patch near the ends of it. His mind immediately goes somewhere dirty.
Did you... use his hoodie how he wants to think you did?
Choso looks back up at your door and gulps. Then his mouth twitches and before he knows it, he’s smiling rather smug-like. If his thoughts are correct then that would mean you got off to how he smells and—he brings his hoodie up to his nose and inhales—luckily for him, the cologne this fabric in particular is doused in, just so happens to be his favorite.
Which is exactly why Choso goes on to make said cologne his only scent.
Following this little act of his is an abundance of his shirts and hoodies going missing. You only got caught wearing them just that one time but, he doesn’t need to see you in his clothes to know you’re the one stealing them.
It’s quite obvious, in his humble opinion. No matter how many times you come to tell him he must’ve lost it or misplaced it somewhere. As if. The man barely leaves the apartment!
And while that’s nothing to brag about, it is undoubtedly the truth.
——
Day Thirty-Four: Indirect Cumshots.
This is where things really start to go from bad, to worse.
The two of you now have a mutual habit of stealing one another’s clothes. You know for sure Choso gets off with your stuff since he mostly takes your panties, skirts, bras, shirts, shorts, and shoelaces?!—all in that order.
What other use for these items could he possibly have if not for sexual satisfaction?
The same questions travels throughout Choso’s mind whenever he wonders why his shirts, hoodies, and jackets go missing. Except, his only issue with it—outside of it being an inconvenience whenever he needs to dress himself—is that he’s still not fully sure whether or not he’s right about your use for them.
Especially since you’ve worn a few of his clothes around the apartment without a care in the world, blaming it on the mixed laundry whenever asked about it. Naturally he believes you, but he can’t deny the fact that he desperately hopes you’re lying to him.
Just the thought of you having your nose buried into his clothes while your fingers play with the neglected cunt in between your legs, your thighs clenching whenever you get close, and mouth breathing out moans of his name makes Choso’s mind go blank.
He’s never had sex before so he hopes that doesn’t turn you off—wanting nothing more than for it to be you that changes this some day.
Above all that, and back to this whole clothing fiasco, Choso has found another way to satisfy his doubts.
In the event that you really weren’t taking his clothes to fuck yourself in, he had a backup plan. By this point Choso had accepted the fact that he’d become nothing more than a dirty pervert since you moved in. So much so that he figured if he could jerk off to indirect kisses from you…
…He could indirectly cum on you too.
Now, now, he knows that sounds bad at first. But he swears it’s really not!
It technically started when he accidentally came on one of your blankets.
He’d been in the living room—doing what any perv would do—rubbing his bare cock against the last place in which you’d sat on the couch. You weren’t home so he wasn’t worried at all about getting caught, thrusting his dick all slanted against the cushions, and letting his precum smear sloppily all over where you were sitting.
“Nngh-,” Choso cared little about holding back his sounds whenever you weren’t home, this moment being the most prime example of this.
His hand loosely kept his cock from sliding all over the place, thumb lightly hovering over his base so that he could have some sort of rhythm in his movements.
He was bare naked, whole body flushed from how hot ‘n bothered he found himself. You looked especially pretty that day. He doesn’t even remember where you said you were going but he does remember the glimpse of your panties he got when you got up from the couch and walked over towards the door in that unfairly short skirt of yours.
It was the same black pair he fucked his cockhead against just three days ago and now you were wearing them and you didn’t have the slightest clue. That fabric would be hugging your pussy for hours and you were oblivious to the fact that his cum had been pooling against it not too long ago.
Fuck, the thought drives him straight over the edge, causing him to stumble against the couch as he fists at his dick. Choso tosses his head back and begins to fuck his hand imagining it was you—gushy spurts of cum spilling out from his plump head in varying directions before he even realizes it.
Heavy pants departed from his mouth as he stroked himself through his high and let whimpers exit his throat. By the time he calmed down, he looked below himself to see that he not only came all over your seat—the splatter of his cum mirroring the way it probably would if he ever came on your ass—but he also accidentally shot some of it onto your blanket.
The same blanket you bury your face under whenever you two watch a movie that’s a little too gruesome, the same blanket you cuddle yourself under, and the same blanket that sometimes get smothered in between your thighs whenever you have it hugging your body a certain way.
Choso tilts his head a little and that’s when it hits him. Just like the time you two had shared a water bottle and indirectly kissed… him cumming on your favorite blanket is no different than him cumming on you, right?
His brows meet. Is that bad to think? If he cums on more of your stuff, does that mean he’s always cumming on you?
Has he technically finished inside you since he’s done so inside your panties more times than he can count?
Shit.
It’s from then on that Choso begins to purposefully release a load on things you use all the time. And just as doing this to your blanket has been one of the most perverted things he'd done so far, so was doing the same to your favorite mug.
He just woke up with the fattest tent in his pants that morning, he had to do something about it! And you can’t blame him when he ignored the erection and joined you for breakfast anyway, watching your lips mold themself around the rim of the dish, gulping deeply until the liquid inside was all gone...
Choso barely felt like himself after you left. He rushed into the kitchen and searched the sink for the cup you used, pulling his cock out and letting it slap against the porcelain. He’s sure this is your favorite mug because of how expensive it is so he knew he had to be careful.
Even so, that didn’t stop him from dragging his dick around its edges—right where your lips and tongue had been. After which he spent the next few minutes emptying his balls into the mug until it was a quarter full with his seed.
This was by far the most depraved thing he’d done so far.
Only for that feeling to get worse in his chest when he watched you use the same cup the following morning, humming at a slightly different pitch as if a new flavor had been added to your beverage.
He couldn’t bear to meet your eyes afterwards. You basically just drank his cum and you didn’t know.
That’s horrible. You’d totally hate him if—
“Did you buy a new dish soap or something?” Your voice breaks him away from his thoughts of impending guilt.
Choso’s head flies up and his eyes, wide and dopey brown, set on you with that intensive warmth you always enjoy. “Huh?” He gapes.
You grin, “I asked if you bought a new dish soap.” Then you shrug all cheekily, “My mug smells really nice for some reason.”
Yeah, probably because he spent an hour cleaning it after he did something so sinful to it…
Your roommate shakes his head, “No, no, I didn’t buy anything new.” He tells you.
The conversation ends around there as you nod and then return to your breakfast, thinking nothing more of it.
Meanwhile Choso feels guilt in between his legs stirring up again and some weird sense of pride in his chest swelling.
Which is exactly why he doesn’t stop there. Although he always cleans up thoroughly after these indirect cumshots of his—it never fails to fill him with pride when he watches you use the same things he’s soiled.
Forks, spoons, straws—which were hell to clean—your phone while you were sleeping one time, pictures of you, etc. In more ways than one, Choso’s basically marked and claimed you as his own via spilling his seed all over you.
——
Day Forty-Eight: Shame? Never heard of her.
The cumshots were one thing, of course. Starting to see your face in every pornographic video he watches is another. So is lightly stroking himself while sitting right next to you and talking to you about his day.
But fucking your pillow when you’re not home, pretending that it’s you, while playing some random audio of yours in the background? Now that was the final straw.
Choso can't even begin to explain nor understand what exactly has gotten into him.
At least when he'd done all those other nasty things with you in mind, he felt bad directly after the fact—apologizing to you via being extra sweet and kind in ways that'd earn him lovely praises from you in return.
It seems like that's a lost art to him now, though.
The man had walked into your room in search of his headphones, the ones he let you borrow last night and now needs to properly enjoy his porn. He hadn't planned to do anything dirty in your room. No, never.
But when he got in there he was thrown off by you leaving a pair of panties on your bed. Not just any pair though, the red pair.
Now, these panties in particular had a bit of a story to them. Choso knows you only wear them when you go out to hook-up with somebody and if they’re sitting on your bed now, that means you saw someone recently or were planning to.
Either way, he doesn’t really want that to happen.
He hasn’t quite revealed any of his intentions nor feelings to you (or at least he doesn’t think he has), but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to feeling possessive over you. You were his roommate, after all.
Maybe this is why he ends up on your bed, grabbing the pillow you sleep on and hauling it up towards his face for a good sniff. The fumes flow through his nostrils and send a rush of blood straight down to his cock.
Partially because he can smell remnants of his cologne lingering in the cottony fabric, which could only mean one thing—you'd slept in his clothes before. Or something like that, anyway.
Halfway through his pillow sniffing, and with a half-hard cock forming in his pants, he hears his phone chime from within his pocket. The chime in question is one he specifically set for you so he wastes not even a second digging for his phone and pulling it out.
Your contact sits center on his screen as it unlocks, revealing to him a voice message you'd just sent.
Choso gulps.
You've sent him a few voice messages in the past, having felt too lazy to type stuff out, but it never fails to make him nervous before pressing play. And right now was absolutely no different.
"Hey Cho, when you get a chance—hahh, shit." Oh? Do his ears decieve him or was that a breathy pant from you? Rewinding the recording a few seconds, "Hey Cho, when you get a chance—hahh, shit. Sor-," He cuts the voice message off and then follows suit with his phone, turning it over and looking up to the ceiling for the moment.
Did you... have any idea of the things you did to this man?
Tossing the question, he tries again.
"Hey Cho, when you get a chance—hahh, shit." There's a short pause as he hears you taking a deep breath, "Sorry, when you get a chance, can you order takeout from the same place as last week before I get home?"
Takeout, of course. Of course. What else would you have sent him a voice message for?
...Certainly not for what he was about to do with it.
You were out at the gym so that little pant of yours should've been expected but he must've forgotten by the time he played the message. His thumb keeps finding itself repeating the same part of your recording, within the first few seconds when that pant, followed by a sweet curse of exhaustion dares to leave your lips.
It's stupid, really. You made one little noise and said one word he's heard from you a thousand times and yet he's already plopping down on your bed, your pillow still in hand, and his legs slowly spreading out so his poor, hardening cock has room to breathe.
Then Choso saves the message to his phone, not thinking twice as he goes on to edit it within his camera roll so that the few seconds of panting and cursing can replay over and over until he's had his fill of it.
After a good five times of replaying those gorgeous few seconds you'd given him, an idea Choso simply cannot ignore is born.
He doesn't recognize himself at all as he tosses your pillow over, snatches up those panties you had lying around and turns around to hover over the two items.
This is so fucked, and he knows it but it's hard to care. One moment he's starring at the assortment of material he has here and the next, he's got your pillow snug under the fabric of your panties. His thumb traces the edge of it just as it would if you were wearing them, swiping up heavily against the center where your pretty slit would be.
Fuck, he should stop.
His thumb glides back down and he shifts against the mattress, knees digging into the plush of it, and hot breaths tumbling out of his lungs. Then his fingers pinch at each side of your panties before he tugs, cleanly ripping the cloth just enough to create a small hole.
He winces upon doing so, knowing damn well he's getting worse by the second.
Choso pauses for a moment and grabs his phone to open his photos. His thumb swiftly swipes through his camera roll until he finds a picture of you, and along with it, he's managed to have your little panting curse combo playing on repeat.
And that's all he needed because now he's got a hole ripped into your pillow and although it was very cottony wrapping around the head of his dick, he couldn't be bothered to care. His imagination was running rampant and all he could picture was you splayed out beneath him, letting him use your body to strip him of his virginity.
He's so sure of how absolutely warm your pussy would be, despite never being inside one or even setting his eyes on one (in person) before. You'd squeeze him nice 'n tight, wouldn't you? Suck him in deeper even when he knows he can't handle that and tries to pull himself back?
God, he's getting dizzy in his own arousal and his precum is serving as lube inside this stupidly dry pillow of yours. It doesn't even feel good but every time he opens his eyes and sees your panties ripped open, his cock bulging in between where he'd torn them, he cares less and less.
Not to mention how you'll be sleeping on this same pillow soon, so the faster he cums inside of it, the faster he can say he's indirectly spilled his cum on your face.
Which is precisely why his hips are picking up their pace, even as he falls over and ends up having to hold his hunched body up with one very unsteady hand.
"Fuck," The curse falls from his lips in sync with the one that fell from yours in that recording—which is still playing in the background of his misdeeds, by the way. Then his visions suddenly become clearer while his movements grow more janky, eyes journeying to the back of his skull in pure bliss.
He swears he can see you under him right now, feel the pretty walls of your pussy clenching around his cock because it's too big for you to take with the way he's rutting forward right now. You'd tell him to slow down a little, no?
Choso steadies the pace of his pelvis just a faction as he catches his breath, "Gonna cum soon." He whispers to the imaginative version of you he's got underneath him.
How would your hands feel pushing or even pulling at his waist, trying to get him to reach deeper inside you despite his dick being much too big for you? Is it cocky of him to think that?
His bottom lip fwips out a little as he pouts, eyes growing teary from how stimulating this is for him. He's never wanted to fuck someone so badly. All these weeks of teasing and sneaking around to commit the most debauched of acts in your name... when would things come to a breaking point? When would you catch onto the hints he's not even throwing??
Ugh, all these questions leave Choso frustrated. So frustrated that now he's applied all his weight to your pillow, fulling humping his fat cock into the makeshift hole. You'd feel so much better than this stupid pillow but the realization of that does little to stop his fingertips from digging into your sheets as he grits his teeth and then spills his first load into it.
"Fuckfuckfuck-," Choso mutters under his breath as he tugs all his inches back a little before diving them right back in. His seed floods throughout the cottony insides of your cushion, making everything creamy.
He ends up having to bite down on your sheets just to hold back the sounds he begins to let out as he drives himself straight into overstimulation with a lack of halting his movements. You'd let him do this to you, right? Fuck multiple loads into you? Breed you?
Hell, what does Choso—who spends majority of his time thinking and fantasizing about you without ever feeling the sexual touch of a woman—know about breeding?
All these damn questions have had the man so distracted that he never realized how much his hand had bumped into his idle phone screen, having somehow managed to capture all of his past few events—which consisted of him moaning your name out and muttering filthy things he doesn't much understand—on camera.
But, that's not the worst part about all this.
The worst part about all this is that by the time Choso finishes up with properly breeding your pillow, he went to finally swipe his phone up, and in doing so he hit send on everything he just recorded.
Now, bear in mind that you never received any sort of response to your innocent takeout request. So really imagine your shock to hear nearly twenty minutes worth of audio porn from your roommate. Actually, scratch that, imagine how quickly you got wet from opening your text thread with Choso to see a video from him.
Because it wasn't just audio he'd accidentally captured, but an entire production of him fucking your pillow.
Shit.
——
Day Sixty-Nine: The Copy-Cock Incident.
Ever since that day, things have been weird between you and Choso.
You came home and didn't say a word to him, didn't even look at him or acknowledge him, and proceeded to hide away in your room for... the next few days or so.
By the time Choso saw you again, you pretended to be completely normal and made him feel like you'd forgotten all about the video he sent you. In fact, you even talk to him as if he'd never done anything wrong.
Weird.
The man was naturally uneasy around you for every day that followed, feeling his skin crawl with guilt every single time he was in front of you. There was nothing he could do about it either, anytime he tried to bring it up or apologize, you'd shut the conversation down or change the subject. It was almost like you didn't want him to apologize for it.
Does that mean you were silently thanking him for it? Did you perhaps like the video?
Choso's unsure. Like, severely unsure.
If you thought he was nervous and awkward around you before than he's gotten a million times worse after the whole video thing.
But today—the sixty ninth day in which you've been living with him—he's finally given the clearest answer to all his questions. All his awkwardness and shyness flies straight out the window the moment Choso comes home to see you sitting rather weirdly in his designated spot on the couch.
He made small talk with you while grabbing a bottle of water for himself from the kitchen, hearing this notable waver in your voice that he simply couldn't ignore.
What Choso didn't know quite yet was that he'd came home far earlier than you expected him to. So now you were left to maintain casual conversation with him as if there wasn't inches of thick silicone stuffed inside your cunt right now.
"—and they're dropping a sequel too, can you believe it?" Choso's voice reverberates throughout the fine walls of your apartment and your hips squirm slightly.
You don't think he ever noticed it but you always found his voice to be especially sexy. And after you got that video of him fucking your pillow—which you've replayed a concerning amount of times since—you think your attraction to his voice has only worsened.
You never knew someone with a tone that deep could whimper and whine so sweetly. The mere reminiscent thought of it has you lifting your body up an inch or two, before you sink back down onto the dildo you have beneath you.
Then your eyes threaten to close and you nibble on your bottom lip to stop yourself from making any sudden noises.
Clearing your throat instead, "Really? That sounds—"
"Are you okay?" Choso cuts off, having fully entered the living room with you now.
His eyes narrow at you as you make contact with them, watching how he's got a single brow cocked up and one hand at his hip—the other busy drawing his perspiring bottle of water up to his lips. Instead of answering him immediately, you sit there and watch the movement of his mouth for an unhealthy number of seconds.
Choso's lips press against the opening of his water oh-so-effortlessly, his tongue swiping out to capture any liquid that imperils to escape his mouth, and his throat shifting along with each unwavering gulp he takes.
When his mouth detaches from the bottle, your eyes are glued to the small breath he lets out before he tilts his head. Then his hand waves out your way, "Hello?"
You shake out of your little daze and cringe at yourself internally, "Huh? Oh-, yeah, mhm. I-I'm fine."
Choso nods his head slowly as if he definitely does not believe you. Then you see the way his eyes drop down to the blanket concealing your lower half, and his feet move against the floor to carry him over to the empty spot on the couch beside you. "Are you sure? You look a little..." His eyelid lower a fraction and he clears his throat, "Stiff?"
You wanted to move around and reposition yourself to show him that you're totally fine but it was a little difficult to do so when you had a sex toy poking up inside you. "I'm fine, Cho. Don't worry about it," You tell him.
He's entirely unconvinced. After living with you for a little over two months, he can confidently say he knows you and your body language like the back of his hand.
So, he leans back against the couch—eyes still trained on your ever little move—and then rests one of his arms against the backside of it, leaning closer to you. "It's kinda hard not to worry about it when you're looking at me like that."
You blink. "Like what?"
"Like you've been caught doing something wrong," He says with a breathless scoff following, "Did something happen?"
"N-No," You breathe out as quickly as you can.
Choso's gaze gets impossibly firmer on you, "You're lying."
Looking away for a split second, your arms move to fold beneath your chest, "Since when did you become so intuitive?"
"I've always been this intuitive," He tells you.
An uncomfortable beat of silence passes, and unfortunately for you, his talking is not helping your situation right now. Every word that vacates his mouth has you soaking both the item you're sitting on and the couch below it.
"So," His fingers idly drum against the back of the couch, "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or...?"
You scoff, "Nothing's wrong, Choso."
He waits exactly ten loooong seconds before cracking a smirk, "So move."
"What?" You gasp.
He's still starring at you with the same unconvinced look on his face, "If there's nothing wrong, move."
You wave your arm out in a dismissive gesture before rolling your eyes and turning your head elsewhere, "You're being annoying over nothing."
Choso sizes you up, drinking in every inch of your noticeably rigid frame. "And something's wrong with you but you won't tell me what. Are you in pain? Did you hurt yourself in an embarrassing way? C'mon, if that's the case, I promise I won't make fun of you for it."
God, you hated when he acted like this. Sometimes Choso cared too much for his own good. He almost walked in on you touching yourself one night and wouldn't leave you alone until he set his eyes on your face to make sure you were okay.
You turn your head back towards him and sigh. You knew he knew what was going on here. Otherwise, why would he be pressing you to tell him what you were up to like this?
"You walked in at a bad time, that's all," You admit to him.
Choso's brows scrunch up all cutely, innocence etched into his sight as it softens on you. "What do you mean?"
How the fuck are you supposed to explain that you were in the middle of bouncing up and down a dildo—that's actually a direct copy of his cock—just moments before he walked in, and now the damn thing is nestled inside you??
"Well," You pause, heart racing a mile a minute as he stares you down like you're the only person who's every word has had him on the edge of his very seat. Then you start to fidget with your fingers in your lap and let your eyes drift away, "I was in the middle of something, and—"
You notice his legs spreading apart and his hips rolling up slowly from your peripherals. Before you can even finish, "In the middle of what?" Choso asks.
He knows.
You look at his face, and the way he's staring at you now is enough to make the heat pooling below get impossibly hotter. You can't help but squeeze your legs together, which causes the cock inside you to slip deeper.
Then your face twists up in reaction before you can help it and Choso watches the entire thing—not missing the movement in your thighs, the breathy moan you let out, and the way your fingers curl into the blanket you have neatly clutched over your body.
Oh.
Choso drags his slightly salivating tongue over his lips to wet them and then releases a short, unnerved chuckle. "I interrupted you, huh?" He asks rhetorically, voice husking a pitch deeper.
You nod your head, aching to move your body to satisfy yourself again.
"Are you embarrassed?" He goes on, trying his hardest not to move his legs out of fear you'll finally notice the boner he's been sporting this entire time.
"O-Obviously," You stammer, "But, I don't wanna talk about it. Just—"
"Don't talk then," He huffs, feeling something starved resting all thickly against the tip of his tongue. "And don't let me stop you."
Your breath tangles, "What?"
His eyes glide up and down your body thrice—seamlessly undressing you through those desperately blown-out pupils of his. "...You were playing with yourself, right?" He questions lowly.
"Something like that, yeah,” You reply.
A singular moment passes between you two before he finally says fuck it and looks at your face, "Can I watch?"
Your cunt involuntarily clenches around the dildo and you squirm, "Choso, I..."
He gives you a surprisingly calm, reassuring smile, “You know you can say no, ri—"
"I know that!" You huff, turning away as your face burns from the heat of embarrassment.
Then, without giving him a vocal answer, you finally shift around in your seat. He watches as you lean back against the corner-part of the couch and move your hand to the blankets edge before lifting it.
The first thing he notices as the cover is removed is that you're in his hoodie—the one he just wore yesterday!
You slouch your body a bit and move the blanket to the side as you slip from sitting to laying back, peeling your legs apart nice ‘n wide to give him the most sinful display of that dildo sliding a few inches out of you. Then your hand reaches down to make contact with the base of it and you bite your lip before languidly pulling it out of you.
Your pussy lips hug the silicone neatly whilst it schlicks its way out of your hole and you release a breath you weren’t aware you’d been holding in. There’s a droopy string of your slick dangling from in between the dildo’s glossy tip and your pulsing entrance—all of which Choso’s is left to peer at.
You redirect the toy’s weighty tip towards your clit and roll it around slowly before tossing your head back a little and sighing in relief.
"Ohgod-," Your roommate chokes into the palm he’d slapped over his mouth all of a sudden.
His body jolts and his other fingertips dip and grind into the couch as he tries to steady himself, holding on so tight that the veins trailing his arms begin to protrude out against his muscular arms. Something in between a throaty grunt and a whine had been ripped out of his throat.
You look over at him from beneath your lashes before batting them, "Are you okay? You're the one who wanted to watch..."
He nods shortly, mumbling, "M-Mhm, m'fine."
As if you’d believe that.
You raise a brow and move the silicone away from your cunt before snorting, "Why're you making that face then?"
"Well, I kinda..." He turns his blushing face away from you completely. Voice small, "Watching that made me cum..."
"What?” You lean up a bit, propping your body up more comfortably against your elbows, “I couldn't hear you, speak up."
Choso thinks his cock is gonna hurt after all this. He turns to face you again and looks you dead in the eyes as he speaks softly, "Watching you do that made me cum."
You blink dumbfoundedly as you find yourself unable to stop the amused smile that breaks into your features, "Just like that?"
He nods.
"You didn't even touch yourself..." You snort, looking down at yourself and shrugging as you tap the dildo against your pussy. Speaking casually, "I know you're a perv 'n all but, shit, I thought you'd last a little longer than that."
Choso’s entire world freezes, "Wait, what?"
"Mmnh," You’re busy moaning as you let the tip play with your entrance—teasing yourself shamelessly right in front of him.
The fact that you just admitted you’d known he was a filthy pervert all this time, and then went back to playing with yourself like it was nothing really threw him off.
Not that he has much time to let that sink in, though. Choso is far too easily distracted by the sight of your glistening pussy below, the living room light doing well to illuminate just how pretty your wet, sopping folds look against the head of the dildo.
“O-Ohhhh fuck.” He gasps, already on the verge of pleasureful tears. “You’re…” His hand shoots down to hold his dick as if to control it—squeezing his shaft roughly before pushing at it. "You’re soakedd. Can I taste it?” Choso asks, voice cracking a little on the last word.
You flick your eyes up at him, “What?”
“Wanna lick it,” He's whispering while moving to lean down, and flashing you this voracious look from his half-lidded eyes. “Can I? Please? Can I taste you, mommy?”
The second, “What.” that falls from your lips is flat as you find yourself struggling to process just how quickly he'd positioned himself in between your plush thighs and how smoothly that name just poured off of his tongue.
“S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to uh-, call you that…” Choso grumbles awkwardly, looking away to let the moment pass before peeking back up at you, “But, can I please—“
“Why should I let you?” You interrupt rudely.
He blinks. “Huh?”
The sudden shift in tension was rather palpable since you realized it's you who's in control here, and not him. “After alllll the dirty things you’ve done in thought of me," Your head angles off to the right, "Why should I let you taste me, Choso?”
“B-Because I’ll make you feel good,” He tries to promise, his dark eyes locked up onto the unfairly gorgeous display of you—wearing his hoodie and spread out a few inches away from his waiting mouth.
His small promise does little to help his case considering how you tut, “Aw, you think so?”
“Uhuh,” Choso nods submissively.
There's a feral, burning urge inside of him to bury his face in between your legs without permission, but that same urge battles strongly against the equally as resilient urge to be pliant and await your every command.
“That’s cute," You say before holding the dildo towards him, "How about this; if you can make me cum with this, I’ll let you get your taste, yeah?”
For the first time, Choso lets his eyes capture the toy you've been using all this time. The item is... weirdly familiar. Your roommate is many things, but he's not stupid—he knows what his own dick looks like.
Not that he has the mind to question you about it right now, though. there are much more pressing matters to tend to.
Which is exactly why he's not asking you anything as he takes the toy from your hands and then looks down at your cunt. Your hole pulses as if asking to be filled and he thinks his heart skips a beat.
He can see, touch, and smell everything.
Sluggishly, Choso directs the head of the fake cock towards your entrance and applies the faintest bit of pressure before stopping the moment he feels resistance. “Uh, is it.. supposed to do that?” Choso murmurs as he looks up, “Like.. are you supposed to be this tight? Do I need to use lu—“
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had sex before," You cut off.
You've had a feeling for months that Choso was a virgin but you'd never been too sure until now.
He pouts sheepishly, “Well..."
“Just-,” You cut yourself off with a sharp exhale. “Y’know what, you're the one that wanted to taste me so bad. I’m not teaching you, figure it out.”
His chest feels like it's caving in for a moment, “What?” He'd never heard you be so.. mean. Though he'd be lying is he said he wasn't into it, “But you made a copy of my dick, I don’t think that’s fai—“
“I don’t think it’s fair that you’re in between my legs with a toy in your hands and no idea how to use it," You say with a prominent roll of your eyes. “If you wanna taste my pussy, figure it the fuck out, Choso. Make me cum."
Oh, his cock swells impossibly harder.
Then he whines, “Y-Yes ma’am..."
Choso takes a deep breath and returns his attention to your cunt. Leaning down experimentally, his lips press clumsy, open-mouthed kisses against your inner thigh before he starts working his way inward. His nose bumps against your folds a few times, but you keep watching him try his best to piece everything together.
His brows furrow a little before he glides the dildo up and nudges it under your clitoral hood, plucking it away directly after once he notices your body flinching, and then tapping the silicone back down against it in the same way he'd seen you do earlier.
“This is your clit, right?” His question is made with genuine curiosity, but something in his eyes tells you that he already knows the answer to it—he simply wants to hear you say it.
Your head bobs a little and you're already feeling a little dazed from watching him, “Uhuh…”
You could feel his searing breaths flap down against all your wet skin and it was making you more sensitive than normal. The sound of your breathy confirmation made his face light up triumphantly.
Choso waves the tip of the dildo—technically his cock—left 'n right against your clit just to tease you before he lifts it away and lets it push against your hole again. He presses it forward with more pressure than the first time and finally pokes an inch inside you, lifting his eyes to see you bite back a moan.
You were so fucking needy.
He can only imagine how hard it was for you to sit there and act like you didn't have this toy inside you all that time. Now you're more worked up than you probably would be in any normal situation.
He strips your insides of that taunting inch after a few seconds and then repeats this action over and over until he can hear it in your breathing that you're getting frustrated with him. But before you can send him any complaints, he lifts his head and hovers his lips over your clit.
“It’s so pretty, can I kiss it?” Choso asks softly.
“I…” His eyes are all glossy ‘n pleading—too irresistible for you to say no. “Yeah…" You concede, "But no licking.”
“Thank you,” Then he dives in and smothers his lips against your clit, sucking on it lightly without ever letting his tongue make contact with it.
The tip of that stupid silicone continues to pop in and out of your squelchy pussy mindlessly as Choso gets addicted to the feel of your clit against his lips.
Muttering, “S’pretty,” into the twitchy lil’ bud over ‘n over again in between the groans he's letting vibrate out. “It keeps—mwah, runnin’ from me.” He whispers against you, “Sensitive girl—she’s so fuckin’ cute.”
As soon as that praise leaves him, the entire length of the fake cock is thrusted into you and your back is forced into a nasty arch as your hands grab at the couch. A wanton, “Choso!” flying out of your mouth before you can even help it.
He plucks his lips away and glances up at you desperately, “Can I lick her now? Please. I’ll pass out if I don’t—“
“Fine,” You huff shakily, “J-Just... lick her ‘real good for me or I’ll make you stop.”
He doesn't have to be told twice whatsoever.
The next thing you feel is his tongue finally melting against your clit as the dildo is thrusted into you, stretching your saccharine walls out perfectly. Choso only fucks the toy in halfway this time though, pulling it out directly afterwards and then repeating this action many times over as if that's all you could take.
It's at complete random that he decides to fuck the entire length of it inside you, and your body flinches as the sudden gesture is paired with his tongue practically wrapping around your poor clit.
“You like that, princess?” Choso utters with a rasp, sticking his tongue out to show you how he moves it around into spelling out his name, “Like the way I flick my tongue against this pussy? Hm? Am I doin' a good job now?”
“F-Fuck. Hnngh-, yeahhh..” You purr out all softly, hips carefully rocking up to meet both his tongue and the dildo.
You hadn’t expected him to be a talker, especially since he’s never done this before. You assume he’s just saying whatever sounds right in hopes that it works, and luckily for him it always seems to.
In a matter of minutes, Choso's fucking you relentlessly with both his tongue and the copy of his cock. You could drive that toy into you at the same speed of which he's doing now, which is exactly why it's not long before you're whining for him to slow down a little since you didn't wanna cum so quickly.
It felt like he'd only just started!
And if he was doing all this with his tongue glued solely to your clit and that toy thrashing against your g-spot, you could only imagine what the entirety of his mouth would provide for you if you let him.
Even with your pleas of him slowing his pace, Choso wasn't much listening until after you came all over the dildo. He let the toy slip right out of you and held it to the side as he tried to move in and lick at your gaping hole in an attempt of finally getting a raw taste of you.
Sure, he got to savor a bit of you just from licking at your clit but that was far from enough.
You shot a hand down to grab ahold of his hair and yank his head up before that could happen. Panting, “What’re you doing?” as you furrow your brows at him.
Choso whimpers, “Y-You said I could taste you after I made you feel good.”
“Yeah," You smirk, "But not like that.”
You make a gesture towards the same toy he's steadily growing very envious of and his eyes are slow to follow along. Then he frowns because he knows exactly where this is going.
His chocolatey eyes travel along the fake veins trailing the cock and he wonders distantly how you managed to capture every essence of his sex like that. “You… You want me to suck my own…” Choso trails off instead of completing his sentence as the realization settles in.
All whilst you're laying there with the same haughty smile on your face, “You want your taste don’t you?”
A light, defeated groan evades his lips as he watches you go on to grab the dildo and hold it up towards his mouth. The slick, shining toy is absolutely coated in you—your arousal clung to the silicone in glossy streaks, and the evidence of your orgasm fragrant and sloppy against the material.
Choso's nose twitches as he catches the sweet scent of your release oozing off of it before his voice stains out. "Fuck." He breathes, watching a slow bead of your cum slide down the length of the silicone—some of it pooled at the tip where a perfect copy of his own slit had been molded.
The man can't help the way he licks his lips reflexively as he leans towards it.
"Atta' boy," You hum, tapping the head of the toy against his bottom lip and watching your wetness smear across his skin. "Open up and get your taste, c'mon."
There's a war between his pride and his raging need to satisfy your every whim, of which the latter easily wins.
Choso parts his lips and you guide the head inside, his eyes fluttering shut upon feeling your taste meet his tongue. He moans around the toy and you push more of it into his mouth, watching how pretty his lips sealing around the shaft as he begins to hesitantly suck.
"Look at youuu, sucking yourself clean," Your words come out in a breathy purr the more you watch him work his mouth around the copy of his dick. "Good boy."
His eyes open and he bobs his head forward a little more, hips rutting against the couch hard enough for the furniture to inch forward. You watch drool trickle out of his mouth and trail down his chin, feeling yourself throb each time he moans.
You knew Choso was desperate for you but this...
“Mmgh..” He groans around the faux flesh, sucking a little faster once he notices the glow of entertainment in your eyes as you watch him.
“How’s it taste, pretty boy?” You ask in that unfairly sinful tone.
Choso pops his mouth off and gives you a fucked-out little simper, “S’good, mommy.”
Your hand falters against the base of the toy for a moment as you chuff out, “Stop calling me that.”
“Sorry,” He says, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic as he returns to licking his cock clean.
After a long, drawn-out time of him practically sucking and licking the dildo brand new, he pulls away from it with a slippery, wet pop!
Then he gasps, sucking in air, and moves his arm over to wipe off the slick and saliva mix from his chin. There's a disheveled look plastered all over his face and his eyes are hazy when met with yours.
"Was that good?" You ask despite already knowing the answer.
To your surprise, Choso doesn't respond.
He just stares at you like he's debating more things than can currently be expressed through words. Then he wraps his hands around the base of the dildo, snatches it from your grasp, and tosses it across the living room like it's useless.
Halfway-glaring at you with a new look in his eyes, he leans up leisurely. His hands move to the edge of his sweatpants and you see his dick imprint practically staring at you from beyond the fabric—a concerning wet patch darkening the area.
There's something grave in his eyes as he cocks his head over and exhales heavily, “Can I give you the real thing now?”
Your thighs twitch but you hope he doesn't notice it. Trying to distract him from it by shrugging, “You think you’ve earned it?”
“I think,” His fingers dip beneath the fabric and he begins to tug his pants down, “You’re being a brat—acting like you’re not just as bad as me.”
Oh. The switch in his head had most certainly been flipped and you were not expecting it.
“What?” You puff.
“Look at you now,” He reaches out and presses the thick pad of his thumb against your clit, “Swollen, needy, aching… all for me.”
Your thighs try to shut, “T-That’s just because—“
“Shhh, shhh,” He hushes, rapidly swatting his hands over to your legs and forcing them open before you can close them, “Let me show you I’ve earned it.”
He grips at your skin until it feels like you won't move once he extracts his hold on you, swallowing up how pretty you look submitting to him now.
Choso goes to pull his dick out and your breath hitches, entire body flinching as you watch it bob out. His length spanks down against your pussy, meanly spreading your wobbly lips apart and nudging against every sensitive nerve you have there.
Your roommate doesn’t move for a moment and just sits there so you can feel his veins thumping, and watch the crown of his cock drooool silky, wet ropes of mushy cum against your abdomen. He's a mess of his own seed but he doesn't seem to care or be embarassed by it whatsoever.
After all, you're the one who got him like this.
All while he’s panting, sweat running down his skin, and face flushed beyond belief. Hovering over you, Choso tilts his head and continues on with his needy glare, “Can I fuck you now?”
“Yeah,” You don't even hesitate to whisper.
His hand moves to hold your jaw graciously but the way he tugs your face up is quite rough, “Speak up.” He demands.
“Yeah,” You say clearly, “You can fuck me, Choso.”
And that’s all he needs.
Next thing you know and Choso's tucking his thiiiiick, creamy cock into your quivering pussy, throwing his head back from the sensation of feeling you welcoming him in for the first time. He's got one hand clasped onto the couch and the other having moved to grip the top of your head so you can watch him have his way with you.
He couldn't let you miss a second of this by looking away or turning your head because you didn't want him to see how much your face twists up in pleasure. No, no, if you're gonna let him fuck you then you're gonna watch how he does it too.
Every fuckin' second of it.
That initial inch of him sinking into you had your vision blurring. The dildo you had made couldn't even begin to compare nor replicate the real thing. It doesn't twitch the way he does, doesn't end with his hips pressing forward with intentional, punishing slowness as if to get back at you for making the damn thing in the first place, and doesn't make you feel every ridge or rubbing vein against the soppiest crevices of your pussy.
"Look at that," Choso drawls, his eyes locked onto where your bodies meet, "You take me s'fucking well—always knew you would." He admits.
But then he stops halfway with no warning, no nothing. You're left impaled and clenching around him, wanting and needing more desperately whilst he just waits. He watches how your walls flutter around him as if to bed for the rest but he still doesn't move.
Your voice feels broken, "C-Choso.."
"Hm? Something wrong, princess?" He coos innocently, "You want me to keep going?"
You nod desperately and the movement makes his hand grip at your skull tighter by just a fraction. Then he sinks in a little deeper and you deliver a trembling moan in response.
He doesn't even sound like the sweet, respectful Choso you know has he tuts, "I can't hear you."
Through gritted teeth, "Yes—fucking move, Cho. Please, fuck me." you beg.
The edges of his lips curl, "Thaaat's more like it."
And then he's bucking the rest of his plump cock into you, bottoming out just the way both of you have always desired. The fluid motion has air fleeing from your lungs and your back angling up ‘n away from the couch, a shamefully loud cry—that you’re sure your neighbors will send complaints about later—leaping out of your trachea.
Choso sets a nasty rhythm inside you, thrusting without a concern in the world about the way the couch is squeaking and creaking beneath your bodies.
Shit. At this rate the dame thing could just break and he still wouldn’t give a fuck.
His hand tightens within your hair and he pulls at your head, “Goddd, you’ve no idea how long I-, hahh… waited for this. Need you to watch, baby. Watch how I fuck this pretty pussy.”
You feel his stout cockhead flog up against your cervix repeatedly, almost like he means to brand himself into the area and have his cum signing his name across it permanently.
“Can’t believe you got some-, fuck—s-stupid toy to replace me. L-Like m’not right here for you,” He pants, a crisp whine slipping out somewhere in between his words. “You knew you wanted the real thing, knew you needed it. Right? Doesn’t this feel s’much better, princess?”
Your jaw is flailing open at this point and you’re a slobbering, moaning mess underneath him, “Yes, Choso. F-Feels s’good, nngh!”
A particularly puncturing thrust makes your eyes fly to the back of your head and your hand reach over to hold onto his arm, nails scratching across his skin. He smiles once he realizes he’s found the perfect spot to fuck you dumb.
Then he’s doing exactly that, pounding your body straight into the mattress and letting groans pour out of his mouth. He’s so fucked-out that he doesn’t even realize he’s drooling on you as he plows forward.
Your pussy is weeping all over his cock, lugging his every jerky inch in deeper ‘n deeper until he earns a specific twitch from you.
“O-Oh,” Choso moans again, “I found it, huh? You gonna cum on me again?” Once your head goes nodding and your pleasureful cries pitch out into airy whines, he gasps. “Give it to me then. Please? Please cum on me, lemme feel it. I wanna feel it baby—wanna feel you cum.”
His words immediately fade off into whimpers when he feels you doing exactly as he’s begged you to—your orgasm practically crashing through you and causing your body to convulse around him. Choso fucks you through it like his life depends on it, eager not to disappoint.
Then he’s right there with you—even though he technically came again quite some time ago, but both of you were too fucked-out to realize—and you feel globs of his cum gushing all throughout your pussy, the mess of releases getting mixed with one another with the way his hips insistently continued on.
Muttering, “Take it, take it, take it-,” over and over mindlessly whilst your cunt shuddered around him.
It’s not until his hips come to a sharp stop that both of you manage to catch your breath in an synchronized gasp of air. Choso’s body topples down over you and you feel his cock twitching as it goes flaccid inside you.
Your bodies remain still for a minute or two before he lifts his head to look at your face, leaning in to plaster kisses on your cheek and whisper intimate things that your ears don’t quite catch.
When your ears come in tune with what he’s saying, "—and about that video... I wanted to apologize for that. A-And for everything else." you catch him saying.
To which you let out a little dream-like sigh, "Choso… I literally have a camera in my room. I've known about what you've been doing for quite a while now. You don't have to apologize."
"Oh, you-," He pauses and lifts his body. "Wait, what?"
A mother, exhausted by fear even more than by hunger, whose children sleep each night with empty stomachs and tear-filled eyes, asks for nothing more than a morsel to silence their pain and a merciful hand to reach out and save us. A little from you could mean life to us, so please don't leave us to face this suffering alone.
✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #605 )✅️
The Story of Alaa and Her Children:
Alaa, a mother of four, and her husband, a tai… Kate Didier needs your support for Help Alaa in
Synopsis. Five times Fushiguro Megumi and his particularly determined elementary class attempt to matchmake the strong, surly divorced Fushiuro Toji with you—their pretty elementary school teacher. And the one time it doesn’t end in disaster.
(Or in other words; the one time Fushiguro Megumi might just become a big brother?!)
Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!teacher!reader, DlLF!Toji, 5 + 1 things, crackfic tbh, Iike MAJORLY, brainrot, sigmas, Megs and co., faiIed matchmaking, Toji’s a YEARNER, but can’t pull, bake sales, cherry bIossoms, SO many references, kids Iearning bad words from Toji (smh), parent-teacher meetings, tension, oraI (m + f), he’s FÉRAL, manhandIing, spítting, p taIking, p sIapping, fíngering, cIit bíting, GRADING, somewhat roIepIay, he’s MEAN, he’s BIG, biiiig stretches, you grade HIM, cervíx smooching, sIight banter, cIit pinching, more p sIapping, sIight bréeding, mentions of kids, feeIing for himself, taIking you through it, creampíes, cúmpIay, stuffing you FULL, brief headIocks, implied marathons, getting together, happy endings, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 15.4k
A/N. And shoutout to Megan THEEEEEE StaIIion for teaching me what rizz was mhm- aIso slightly inspired by my Unckuna fic here <3
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE ONE: RIZZ.
“…and that’s the problem.”
Fushiguro Toji can’t believe this.
No matter how he looks at it—this is weird, right?
After all, no respectable single father would be hesitant to drop his son off at his elementary classroom- instead lingering by the wide, multi-colored building steps for a few seconds before finally entering like a lamb to the butcher’s. And even worse- no respectable single father would let himself be ruthlessly interrogated by his son over this fact.
And worst of all, reveal - after much intense probing by a nine-year-old - that this was all because…he happened to have…a stupid crush on one of the teachers.
“Which one?” Megumi looks up through jet-black bangs much like his, nose crinkling at the thought of his father having- eugh, feelings.
Toji sighs. “Don’t mean to push you into your emo phase early, kid, but…”
And then he glances beyond the little one’s frame.
Right. At. You.
The entrance to Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary opened up to the main hallway; with classrooms upon either side, and doorways spaced between walls that were kaleidoscopes of crafts and schoolbag hooks and polaroids of students over the years. If Toji looked hard enough then he’d even be able to find the polaroid where Megumi was flipping the camera off—he’d learned that one from him, see.
That was an awkward parent-teacher meeting.
But that was also the day he properly met you - beyond just the polite nod and hasty small talk at drop-off and pick-up.
With your adorable flowery apron on - courtesy of elementary school policy - and your lips trying very hard not to twitch up into a smile—very nicely telling Megumi that that wasn’t something good kids do.
Toji agreed then. He’d have agreed with anything you said.
“But you were the one that taught—”
He’d slapped his hand over Megumi’s mouth then.
You’d let a small laugh slip- and he was a goner.
After that meeting, Megumi may have lost something (iPad privileges for a whole month), but Toji gained something: this little ember of attraction that he couldn’t shake off no matter how much he tried. Every routine pick-up and drop-off, every bake sale, every little notification that lit up his phone—you typing into the parents’ groupchat about some announcement or the other. And though it’d never be anything too personal, his heart always thundered in his chest as he clicked those notifications open. Is it weird that he set a different tone for your notifications?
The harder he tried to ignore it, the further it kindled.
Until he evidently couldn’t even walk inside that damn building without feeling some part of him melt just a little…
Even now, his skin burns as he watches you.
Biting back a laugh as one of your students hugged their guardian goodbye- so hard that both adult and child topple over. And then you’re being grappled into the same embrace, which you’re letting yourself be tugged into—soon enough, three more of your students join in. One tucks a wildflower from the garden behind your ear.
Sunlight falls across your face as your head falls back in a laugh - and then you’re leaning forwards and grabbing all of those tiny bodies in a hug.
Toji can’t help but wonder whether you’d like to be embraced just the same. Toji can’t help but wonder whether you’d laugh just like that when you’re picked up and spun around, feet never touching the ground. Toji can’t help but wonder why the hell Itadori Yuji was pointing and laughing at him.
“Mr. Fushiguro’s dad, your face looks funny—!” He squeals. Loud enough for multiple parents to turn and look.
Toji grumbles something underneath his breath and straightens, like the respectable adult - the respectable adult - he is. Cool. Calm. Collected. Mature. “Oh yeah? And your hair looks funny, kid.”
Now those same parents were turning to him and glaring.
“What—?!” He gruffs out at them, hands raising in surrender. “He started it.”
Itadori turns to them and smiles an utterly precious, gap-toothed smile.
He tells himself that he’s imagining the way they seem to be pulling their kids away from him.
Itadori stops laughing and ruffles his own coral-pink locks. The boy had strong-armed himself to become one of Megumi’s best friends since their first day; and he always has made himself known as the chatterbox of the group. The sweetheart. The trouble-stirrer (one of them, at least). “My grandpa says it’s um- jeanetic. My father had pink hair, too.”
Toji raises a brow, “Oh?”
“Yeah! Did you know my uncle’s in prison?” The boy looks squarely up at him and beams. “He sets things on fire.”
“Same, bud.”
“I eat dirt.”
“…what the fuck.” Toji whispers underneath his breath- though it must’ve been loud enough for the keenest of eavesdroppers to listen, because before he knows it, a little boy with a face mask and the most atrocious bowl cut Toji’s seen in his life—pulls out a notebook from his backpack and starts furiously scribbling something down.
Assumably the profanity he’d just spoken.
Inumaki Toge, was it?
Now he’s the one stepping away from these damn kids.
But before he can get too far, Toji feels a tug on either arm—he looks to his right: Itadori.
Attempting to climb up his forearms and biceps like monkey bars.
He looks to his left: Kugisaki.
Looking knowingly between you and him.
“These partners stink of-”
“What was that?” Kugisaki asks.
“Nothing.” Toji quickly replies. And then there was the other one: Kugisaki Nobara was impossible to miss in a classroom. If not by her chattering that was just as loud as pink-haired Itadori’s, then by the red, rubber hammer that she seemed to be fond of, smashing it on top of people’s heads if they displeased her. He was just in the middle of wondering whether he could be successfully knocked out if she hit him hard enough when-
“Where…are you taking me?” He quickly narrows his eyes- just as soon as the little girl started pulling him by the hand. Towards your classroom. “Hey—”
“Oh, c’moooon.” She rolls her eyes in a manner that was far too expert for her age. “How is the male lead going to get the heroine if they don’t even talk?”
“I’m not the main character?”
Itadori - who had by now managed to perch atop his right shoulder like some parrot - whispers uncomfortably in his ear. “How’s the rizzler going to get the skibidi?”
Toji whirls to him- “Bless you?” The fuck…
Megumi follows and nods sagely. Deadpanning. “Dad’s not sigma enough for that.”
“Not you, too?!”
“Hi?”
The Earth had given way from underneath him. But in reality, it was just your voice breaking through the chaos of the elementary lobby—Itadori had begun gripping onto his shaggy, black bangs for balance now- and Toji was doing all he could to peak through the boy’s cutely chubby fingers.
A breath catching in his chest once he realizes that they’d walked him all the way over to you.
Apron on. Brows raised. A flower tucked prettily behind your ear. Standing right at the door to your vibrant classroom; you kept a hand on your mouth to stifle your obvious smile. Though nothing could hide the light in your eyes.
And before Toji’s given the opportunity to wax shitty poetics about it in his mind, you’re nodding at the boy latched onto Toji’s head. With a smile- “Down now, Yuji. What have I said about climbing people like monkey bars?”
He sighs and removes his hands covering Toji’s eyes, “To not climb people like monkey bars.”
“And what are you doing right now?”
“Climbing people like monkey bars.”
“Down, please.”
Yes, ma’am…Toji’s thinking to himself. Snap out of it, man.
It was like a miracle. Itadori Yuji - for however much of a sweetheart he was - was never the type to listen to authority so directly—you could tell the kid to not eat glue and he’d chug down the whole bottle. Toji knows. From experience.
But it’s as easy as butter that he’s sliding off the older man now- and soon enough, his small red shoes are hitting the floor. And he’s staring up at Toji with his scarred mouth gaped open.
In fact, everyone was.
“Um, Fushiguro-san? Is everything okay?” Your brows then pinch in concern.
Kugisaki slaps her forehead, and Megumi seems to sink deeper into his bangs. As quickly as the words are registering in his head—he’s shutting his mouth and faintly puffing his broad chest out. Making sure that you see the way his beefy biceps flex as he scratches behind his neck. “Yeah- yeah, everything’s alright. How about you?”
“Can’t complain.” You giggle. And when there doesn’t seem to be a follow-up question, he flexes even harder. “I see uh…you’ve been hitting the gym lately, Fushiguro-san.”
“Oh, me?” He has the audacity to look a little shocked. “That’s cute, doll. But I don’t hit the gym.”
“You must take steroids then.” Itadori pipes up gleefully. “My uncle takes them, too-”
“I’m all natural—”
As this subsides, you’re taking control of the chaos like the professional you are. “Alright, oh- look at the time!” Sweeping a glance behind you at the classroom clock, “We’re almost late for attendance and rehearsal time. Let’s get inside, kids.”
You start ushering some of them inside- and Toji squirms as those balls of energy rush past him. Evidently you were preoccupied with them, but you have enough time to look up at the older man and flash him a smile-
“And I’ll see you at pick-up then?”
Faintly, he nods. “Uh-huh.”
“Good.” You cock your head up at him, “Hope you have fun with the gym then~”
“U-uh-huh.”
He can only watch mutely as you whisk a few students inside and clap your hands to get their attention—some of the parents were filtering out and he knows he must look like such a creep…but you were just so astounding. And at least he hadn’t completely fucked up that interaction-
“Mr. Fushiguro’s dad, sorry for your aura loss.” Itadori pats him comfortingly on his side. There were still some students milling about with their goodbyes.
He whirls, “Fushiguro Toji doesn’t lose aura-”
“But you did.” Kugisaki nods with her arms crossed. “You fumbled, Fushiguro-san.”
He turns to his beloved son for reassurance.
Megumi looks at Toji blankly. “You never had aura to me, dad.”
“That’s it-”
“But it’s okay.” Kugisaki says, “The male lead never gets the heroine in the first five minutes. They have to suffer first. You just messed up Phase One.”
He almost feels sorry asking. “And…what is Phase One?”
“The rizz phase.” This time, it’s Itadori that answers. “You have zero rizz, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad. But—we have a plan.”
“A plan?”
Itadori holds up three fingers. “Four more phases before you win Ms. Teacher’s heart!” Not so loud…he’s grateful you haven’t noticed them yet.
Megumi holds up the correct number of fingers. “Four more phases to embarrass yourself, dad.”
What moral support, son.
“I don’t know…”
Itadori nods seriously, “Take it this way, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad- there’s a red button and a blue button in front of you. If you press the red button you die alone like my uncle probably will. If you press the blue button you totally rizz Ms. Teacher up and live happily-ever-after before she divorces you. Which button would you press?”
Neither?! His jaw drops. “What the fu-”
“We just want to matchmake you!” Kugisaki shoves Itadori aside.
He eyes the kids warily. Leaving his love life to three elementary schoolers? Has Fushiguro Toji really fallen this far? Oh…he really is getting old. “Whatever. I don’t a shi- damn.”
And the answer is yes, yes he has.
But then Kugisaki clasps her hands together and beams, “Then in the end you’ll be just like Jinu and Rumi from K-pop Demon Hunters!”
And beside himself, Toji cracks a little smile. “Yeah…yeah, maybe we will.”
“You’ll die in the end and she’ll become a demon!”
“…let’s just stick to Phase Two.”
.
.
.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE TWO: SWEET TREATS!
Status: Pending…
Why did he agree to this shit again?
Though it wasn’t exactly Valentine’s Day; Fushiguro Toji was lugging a cart ‘round the candy aisles of Maruetsu supermarket, followed by three children with sticky fingers that just kept on piling even more sweets into the hefty chocolate-filled cart. And more. And more. And more-
And though Toji agrees that there was never a wrong day for chocolate - he was just damn relieved that yesterday had been pay day. These brats didn’t even glance at the price before throwing chocolate bars and heart-shaped candies over the cart rim.
Right alongside a bunch of flour, butter, and whatever shit one needed to make cookies.
Because yes—Fushiguro Toji was apparently the type to make cookies now.
Itadori tosses a bunch of Daddy Tony’s Chocolonely into the cart. “We’re totally chocolate-mogging everyone in the store right now.”
Why did he agree to this shit again?
It’d been their idea.
Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary’s annual talent show was nearing. The decorations were being made. The kids were rehearsing after-school. And Toji didn’t care too much about such things—the only reason this had stuck in his mind was because you’d sent a message about it in the group chat. And he’d read that little sentence over and over again until he memorized it.
To raise funds for such an endeavour, the elementary was hosting a bake sale; where parents - should they choose to do so - could contribute their own baked goods and little treats and candies that could be sold. The year before, Toji had honestly just sent Megumi off with a bag of chips that Itadori had scoffed down in all of three seconds.
Though, in his defense, it wasn’t mandatory and he didn’t know what the fuck a bake sale was supposed to be.
Phase Two of the plan seemingly consisted of emptying out Toji’s pockets- the three of them had insisted that this bake sale was the perfect opportunity for Toji to make his move on you.
It was simple, really—bake cookies for the sale, sell them there, and when it came to you- woo you with a special heart-shaped cookie and ask you out. Simple!
Was it obvious that this plan had been concocted by a bunch of nine-year-olds?
Toji sighs.
He glimpses Megumi wandering into the meat section and reaching for ¥50,000 Wagyu-
The next day, after burning the first few batches of cookies and setting fire to his kitchen only twice, Toji found himself crammed into a pretty pink-frilled booth at the official annual bake sale. Equally as pink apron cinched around his waist—and his t-shirt so tight that he catches a few single parents giving him appreciative looks.
Though he wasn’t paying attention to that.
He was keeping his eyes on you- making your way from booth-to-booth, laughing along with parents and trying out everything your students had to offer.
Toji lets out a long, lingering sigh.
He was never going to get over this damn crush—
Next to him, Megumi and his two best friends were the ones manning the counter and giving out cookies to paying customers. He hates to admit it, but business was booming.
“Hey…hey, if I pay you in chocolates would you sell this shit again for me?”
Megumi looks up at him blankly. “I want 60% equity and ¥5 for every unit sold.”
Toji drops a cookie he was holding over the counter—“M-maybe not…”
“Hey, there’s Ms. Teacher!” Itadori squeals.
And then…and then the most sweet, seraphic sound echoes in his ears- too close for it to be something he’d imagined, too removed from him to be anyone but you. You’re making the tall man freeze where he was leaned over the counter - and the hairs on the back of his neck rise…he’s pausing to listen for you before he knows it.
“Oh, let me get that for you.”
Toji hadn’t noticed you walk over. Toji hadn’t noticed you bending down to pick up the cookie he’d dropped. “O-oh, no you don’t need to—” Not before you’re straightening up and holding it out to him with a beautiful smile.
“It’s no problem.” You chirp.
Mutely, he takes the crumbling cookie from you.
He wanted that cookie badly.
“So…I see business is booming.” You nod down at the three little ones manning the counter, “Good job, sweethearts. How are you today?”
“Good.” Both Megumi and Kugisaki echo.
“My grandma got hit by a bazooka!” Itadori beams.
Your smile falters, though Toji’s impressed at how quickly you recover. “Well…that’s certainly a time, isn’t it, Yuji? And how are you, Fushiguro-san?”
“O-oh, me—?” His faze sizzles at being called out so suddenly. And the older man hurries to scratch behind his neck—did his biceps look good in this apron? “Ah…chill.”
“Chill, hm?” You smirk. Eyeing him, “I dunno- I’d say it’s a rather hot day today.”
Features scrunching up, Toji leans his head out and looks at the sky. “Is it? Those damn weathermen always lie.”
Megumi smacks his forehead.
“No, I just meant…” You’re flitting your gaze at the paper-thin fabric of his t-shirt, wrapped around his chiselled limbs so perfectly. Gift-wrapped. And then you’re shaking your head, instead turning to the rows of cookies put on display. “Anyways- any recommendations you guys have for me?”
Toji furrows his brows at the abrupt change in conversation. Beside him, reaching just past his knee, Kugisaki kicks him in the shin and hisses- “The cookie! The cooooookie! Make a move, male lead!”
“Oh. Oh.” Toji startles. Bending down and whispering back, “Now?”
“Yes, now!”
“But-”
“Go.”
“Wait—”
“Go!”
Finally, he holds one calloused palm out at you. Bandaged and slightly aching from baking all day yesterday. “Stay here, we made something special for you.”
“Oh?”
Toji shuffles around in the box of cookies that they’d brought with them; packaged away and separated from the rest was one particular cookie—your favorite flavor, which he’d probed out of the kids. Specifically made in the shape of a heart.
His hands shake a little bit as he turns to you with it.
Scarred lips parting, “This is…”
“For me?” You cock your head with a sweet smile.
He nods. “Free of charge.”
“That’s too sweet, I couldn’t possibly-”
“Please—” Toji interrupts, fingers weak - barely holding onto the crinkled package - as he holds it out to you. “I insist. For taking care of my son.”
Something changes in your expression, and your fingers twitch closer to his.
The trio watches open-mouthed as your hands close the gap in mid-air before—
“Oooooooo, cookie! Fanum tax!”
Before one Todo Aoi leans over the counter and snatches the cookie fast- before everyone could even blink, all of Toji’s emotions, hopes, pursuits, and dreams find themselves stuffed down the crumb-coated maw of the little boy. Chomped to bits.
Everyone looks at him in stunned silence.
He polishes off the cookie in three bites.
“What?” Todo asks as the silence stretches even longer- and he notices the stares around him. “Needs a little more salt…”
Toji feels like keeling over. “I am going to-”
“Here, Ms.” Megumi picks up one of those cute, floral-decorated cookie packets on the counter and pushes it into your hands. “Free of charge.”
“Thank you. I…” You look at Toji as though you’re about to say something more—but then a call of your name from across the school field catches your attention. Another teacher was waving you over for something- and with an apologetic smile, you’re bowing your way out of there.
Itadori whistles, “Wow, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad. Maybe if you hadn’t waited around bein’ a scaredy-cat then Ms. Teacher might’ve gotten the cookies before Todo.”
Immediately Kugisaki gets down from the counter- grabs her rubber hammer, and slams it down on Todo’s head.
Then before Toji can feel a rush of pride, she grabs two cookie packets and beckons him to crouch down to her height.
Once he does, she presses both packets to his cheeks and asks seriously. “And what are you?”
“A fuckin’ idiot cookie.”
A small gasp.
From the other side of the counter, he hears furious scribbling as someone jots that particular word down—he doesn’t need to look to know that it’s that Inumaki Toge again. Nooooo—! It’d slipped out accidentally, he promises. Also on the other side of the counter was Todo Aoi who was now eyeing the other cookies enviously- Megumi frowns and starts pulling them away from him.
Itadori turns to Toji and shakes his head as though he’d been the adult in this situation. “It’s a shame, though. Phase Two has also failed - take the L, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad.”
“L.” Kugisaki echoes.
“L.” Todo.
“L.” Somehow Toge.
Megumi nods. “Loser.”
And somehow that hurt the most—
He groans.
Todo huffs. “Can’t believe you just got framemogged by the TJE class monitor, old man.”
Toji whirls around with a glower. “Mugged? I’ve never gotten mugged by anybody-”
“But since you’re all just begging me—” Todo turns to the bemused others with his arms crossed importantly. “-I’ll teach you the true art of rizzing.”
.
.
.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE THREE: A DATE.
Status: -84834832849 aura.
A date.
Not one he’d asked you out on, of course.
Spring had neared like a reawakening of the Earth; the breeze was warm. The Sun cascaded softly. The birds were twittering. And Fushiguro Toji was losing it—he had already had enough of making a fucking fool out of himself in front of you.
And now he was about to do it all over again.
Megumi’s elementary school was hosting a picnic with the kids in Ueno Park, in honor of the cherry blossoms beginning to open up.
Parents were invited too, of course.
And it was inevitable that you’d be there.
Now with that kid Todo - a student a year older than the trio, it seems he’d found himself attached to Itadori though Toji has no idea how that friendship started - onboard for the scheme, Toji was finding himself pulled around like a marionette. This ridiculous scheme to kinda-sorta try and make you fall in love with him…
That he was going along with.
So for the outing, the four had emphasized that Toji wasn’t to come unless he was looking his absolute best. They’d told him to burn that usual black t-shirt of his - no matter how many times he tried to insist that he had a wardrobe full of identical ones. He wanted Megumi to vouch for him, but the boy had lied.
That traitor.
Thus on the Saturday morning it’d been planned; Toji spent a good few hours in front of the mirror.
Tugging back the sleeves on his white cotton sweater- he’d been told that people appreciate forearms more this way. Dousing himself in perfume. Putting on one of those face creams Kugisaki had recommended after asking her guardian. Attempting to tame his shaggy, black bangs. He made sure his biceps were looking good that day—and stuffed Megumi into his matching sweater as well n’ rushed off to Ueno Park.
He thought he looked pretty good, honestly.
Todo eyes him warily once he arrives, “…That’s the best you’ve got?”
“The hell’s wrong with it?”
“It’s just…not sigma-”
“Shut-”
A few parents turn to look at him.
“He started it—he—”
After certainly no small amount of bickering (and much apologizing from the woman that seemed to be Todo’s guardian), they managed to make it to the picnic area. Where a row of multi-colored checkered blankets were laid out across the green grass like some form of a quilt—Megumi wastes no time before waddling over to where Itadori and Kugisaki were seated with their families.
And before long, the three kids were tugging several blankets closer together and creating a larger one.
As Toji sighs and stalks over to them—he’s suddenly stopped by Todo Aoi. Evidently having broken free from his guardian for far, far greater purposes; he holds his hand up and makes Toji freeze. “You have much to learn, don’t you, old man?”
“Haaah?” He balks down at the boy.
“True rizzlers don’t sit around playing teatime with kids—” He throws his arm behind at the other three, “-and my beloved brother, Yuji—” They were related?! “True rizzlers have to be tall and nonchalant even if they’re short and chalant.”
Toji eyes him warily. “…Okay? And what am I supposed to do?”
“Talk. To. Her.”
“How—”
“Go there-” Todo stabs a finger in your direction. But Toji didn’t need it to know where to look.
He sweeps his eyes across the cherry blossom gardens- and his eyes seem to find you as they always do. Even in a garden of the world’s brightest and rarest flowers, you would be the most beautiful.
“Brother eugh, you’re getting that sappy look on your face again- nonchalant. You have to be nonchalant!” Todo exclaims.
You were wearing a summer dress that fluttered around you in the soft breeze- and before he knows it, the little boy was pushing him towards where you were standing.
“W-wait—”
“Oh, has Phase Three started already?” Soon enough, Itadori’s voice is piping up right beside him. And he’s pushing Toji, too.
Then comes Kugisaki. “Ooooo they always have a cherry blossom episode! I love those.”
The dark-haired man looks to his son for help, and he pretends not to meet his eye.
Dammit.
“Fine—fine.” An unstoppable force meets an immovable object. Toji’s pushing back against their persisting guidance, and they just won’t have it. You’re going to notice him being made a fool again. “I’ll talk to her. Don’t rush me—I said don’t-”
“Why is it that every time there’s trouble, it’s got something to do with the five of you?”
Too late.
With your hands on your hips, you’re walking over with a playful smile.
Though there was nothing playful about the way his heart thunders-
High-pitched giggles emanate from behind him, and he doesn’t have the time to compute before all three sets of small hands - and Megumi’s mildly disappointed stare - vanishes. The kids are running off, leaving the two of you alone, once you’ve properly walked up to them—leaving Fushiguro Toji to fend for himself and also…collapsing to the ground. Because of the lack of force from behind now, his ass hits the soft grass and you’re trying not to laugh from above.
Pretty hand reaching out, “Everything alright, Fushiguro-san?”
“Toji.” He somehow manages to blurt out, taking your hand and getting to his feet. “Call me Toji.”
“Of course.” And then you’re sharing your own first name. He repeats it like a spring breeze.
Then, like the fool he is, Toji stands around admirin’ you—long enough that the silence stretches a little awkwardly, and you’re starting to shuffle on your feet. He hears a chorus of small groans from somewhere behind him, and quickly amends- “Uhhh, do you like walks down cherry blossom paths?”
You’re raising a brow in faint amusement, “Yes?”
“Have you walked down cherry blossom paths?”
“Not this year.”
“Will you walk down cherry blossom paths?”
“Fushiguro Toji, are you asking me to walk together?” You bump his shoulder with yours, then loop a hand around arm - he felt like arm candy, but don’t save him—Toji was exactly where he wanted to be - and start walking between pink-shedding trees. “You should’ve just said so. Should we have invited Megumi as well?”
“Who’s Megumi?”
Your startled laugh echoes—and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.
The two of you loop around the pathway and then back again in companionable silence; though questions and confessions constantly bubbled up to Toji’s throat. Are you having fun? Is his body too warm? Can you hear his heart beating? Do you like the cherry blossoms? Do you know you’re far more beautiful than them?
Why do you glance at him with that knowing smile?
What secrets do you hide?
Before he knows it, the two of you have reached the spot where you met once more. And four eager children wait for something to happen- for something to be said.
Toji knows he might not get another opportunity—so as soon as the cherry blossoms are tapering out to more of the green grass, he’s turning to you and stammering. “I-I have something to ask…”
“Yes?” You smile.
“And it might be strange-”
“Yes?”
“And weird-”
“Oh, yes?”
“And creepy- don’t be afraid to say no if it’s creepy.”
“Huh?”
“But…” He feels the question: would you wanna grab coffee sometime? claw at his throat. Toji knows you’re waiting, anticipating—and then a cherry blossom flutters down and lands on your crown—making you look far too angelic. “Would you…happen to know that Japan is turning footsteps into electricity.”
You balk. “Excuse me?”
Toji whispers to himself faintly. “U-using piezoelectric tiles…every step you take generates a small amount of energy. Millions of steps…together…”
“Okay, old man, let’s get you to bed.” Todo’s - Todo, of all people - is coming to his rescue. Ushering him away, whilst his son hopefully manages to cover for his father with a good excuse—
“I do not know that man.” Megumi tells you, then leaves.
You’re left shrugging. Ah…
As they’re walking back to their picnic area, Kugisaki murmurs. “This is the cherry blossom episode. Next is the episode where you get hit by a truck-” Toji really hopes it is. “Guess this’ll be that sort of unfinished love drama…”
“My uncle loves hitting people with trucks.” Itadori beams.
Megumi smacks his forehead once more-
Toji narrows his eyes. “You’re gonna give yourself a concussion if you keep doing that.”
The boy smacks his head even harder. “I hope so.”
Toji mutters to himself. “Fuckin’ me too.”
Behind him, he already knows that Inumaki is jotting this somewhere in some bushes.
As the picnic continues—more and more of Megumi’s friends join their combined blankets. Toji notices you fluttering about, too.
So caught up, in fact, that he doesn’t even notice four matchmaking masterminds roping in their schoolmate Yuta into a deep conversation.
Toji sneezes- someone must be talking about him.
.
.
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE FOUR: THE MARRIAGE.
Status: Toji, you’re scaring the huzzzzz-
It seems that Fushiguro Toji was getting married.
Though not exactly of his own volition.
And to whom, exactly? Well, that would be none other than you—
The wedding shall be held in the idyllic venue of Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary’s sprawling playground; amongst the swings and pieces of chewed-up bubble gum stuck underneath slides. Music shall be provided by the choir team. Snacks are Goldfish crackers and nothing more—you won’t want to miss it.
Don’t bother to RSVP.
Invitations are open to no one, he’s bound to make a fool of himself.
Again.
Toji should’ve known that something was up the second Megumi told him to come for pick-up a little earlier than usual. Elementary classes ended their day with around fifteen minutes of playtime, before official pick-up commenced.
And though Toji didn’t mind coming in earlier - he usually staved his entrance off for the allocated time so Megumi didn’t have to play with his dear ol’ dad looming over his shoulder.
Something had to be wrong- maybe he was sick? And yet…Megumi was the type to never let out even a peep even if he was—he’d have to be dragged out of class and still try to convince Toji that he was feeling well enough to go back. He’d never leave hints like that.
Maybe he didn’t like playtime anymore? That certainly couldn’t be it- playtime always exhilarated Megumi, no matter how much his deadpan son attempted to hide it. He loved his friends. He loved the small rabbit pen that the school had. He especially loved the twin black-and-white wolf spring riders on the playground.
Or maybe…maybe he was getting bullied-
Toji shakes his head clear of that thought immediately.
He’d no sooner be bullied by his son than have his son be bullied-
In fact, before he’d met Itadori and Kugisaki- Megumi loved the playground for…very…different reasons. He’d pile his ‘opponents’ high like a small kid mountain.
Toji shudders.
So what could it be—?
That’s exactly the thought tumbling ‘round in his mind as he walks up to that multi-colored painted building. Instead of going up those steps, however, he’s rounding the corner towards the playground on the other side - where he could hear cheers, laughter, and shrieks. Those youngsters touched the air around them with happiness, and it made some part of Toji’s chest soar to think that his son was one of them.
That’s until he’s actually in-view of the playground and spotting you. Right in the middle of the chaos of elementary classes in playtime.
At the foot of the slides.
A bundle of weeds in your hands
A paper veil atop your head.
With that kid Yuta from the grade above Megumi’s stood solemnly beside you. An officiant.
It looked like…a wedding.
And the space in front of you was empty for your partner.
Ah.
He looks at Megumi who was avoiding his eyes- so this was the plan…
Fuck.
He must have made a noise of bafflement- because just then you’re turning and letting a smile splash across your face. You exclaim. “Ahhh—there’s my groom!”
Oh…oh, he might faint.
Toji feels numb to the small hands that tug on his arm- “C’mon, c’mon! You’re late, Mr. Fushiguro’s dad—!” And he’s being dragged all the way to the front of the slide, where his bride-to-be was awaiting him, it seems…“After this we need time for the divorce-”
“No, the divorce should happen like four episodes later.” Kugisaki rolls her eyes.
“There shall be no divorce.” The seven-year-old Yuta speaks above them - out of them all, he seemed to be taking his role the most seriously. And he beckons the happy couple closer to one another—fuck, Toji couldn’t even meet your eyes.
Standing in front of you, he stuffs his hands into his pocket and keeps his eyes trained on the ground- giving you a brief nod. “‘Sup?”
“On second thought, there may be a divorce.” Yuta solemnly declares.
“Hey-” Toji sends a glare at the black-haired little boy with the wide eyes, then crosses his beefy arms. “So are we gettin’ married or not? Chop chop.”
You shake your head fondly, “Don’t worry- we cut into rehearsal time for this, it seems.”
“Start the music…” Kugisaki whispers to Megumi…simply standing on the sidelines and sinking deeper into his bangs with every passing second. “The music—!”
Megumi lets out a sigh beyond his years, and clicks on the classroom speaker they must’ve brought from inside.
In mere seconds, Stateside by PinkPantheress with Zara Larsson starts flooding the playground. Kugisaki hums to herself with a smile- “PinkPantheress n’ Zara always makes things better.”
Soon enough Yuta’s reading out of a scribbled notebook in his hands, “We’re here today to um- something about marriage.” He looks between the two of you—“Hold hands, please. They always do that in the movies.”
The two of you share a look.
And then you do.
Your fingers are warm n’ perfectly fitted in his - he doesn’t have to think to curl his own fingertips around yours. It’s as if his hands were made for holding yours—the thought zips through his body and he wonders why the hell he was getting emotional as though this was a real wedding…
Yuta continues, “-ummm, something about love.” Toji almost jolts. “Something about caring. Something about taking care of each other when you’re not feeling too good- like my momma always does, heh. She makes this chicken soup that-”
“Get on with it—!” Kugisaki hisses.
“Wait- what sort of chicken soup?!” Itadori pleads.
“That’s my rizzler! Toji bro—!” Todo cries.
“Oh, yeah—” He looks back down at his useless notes. “And stay together forever and ever and ever for at least 67 years no matter how far apart you are, or how scared of your feelings.” Yuta looks at Toji pointedly- who did this kid think he was?! “Does the happy couple have any vows?”
And maybe this was it.
Maybe this was his moment.
Maybe this was…
Toji’s scarred lips open. “I-”
Suddenly the speaker playing music explodes—not literally, though for a moment there it did feel like it. The dance-pop song that’d been playing inexplicably heightens in volume until their ears rung- and Megumi hastens to turn it down.
Kugisaki smacks the speakers with her rubber hammer a few times before it stops. Then with nothing to play in the background, she elbows the pink-haired boy in his side—“Yuji, hit it!”
“Me?!” Itadori yelps, before noticing everyone’s gaze upon him. It’s slowly dawning upon Toji that this might not be the best place for a real confession when Itadori suddenly starts doing some confusing two-step. “You gotta go and I can’t…ehh, sorry. Uhhhh…Nepal. I just don’t want to say that-”
“Please.” Megumi drones. “Please stop.”
He stops.
Mutely, Kugisaki smacks the speaker once more and Stateside blares again.
Toji turns to the officiant- and shakes his head.
Yuta looks at you, “And what about you, Ms?”
“Oh—my vow is that you’re all getting extra homework if eeeeevery single one of you doesn’t dance to the reception tomorrow.” You look at each and everyone.
Small faces scrunched in glee.
Yuta hisses at Itadori. “Time for the rings—the rings!” And the pink-haired boy startles to hand them to him- just a single one plopped onto Toji’s open palm. It was one of those cheap ring pops; still slightly sticky and encrusted with flecks of strawberry candy from before. The actual candy part of it had been very-obviously eaten…
“Sorry.” Itadori still smiles. “I ate it.”
“And the…other ring?”
“I ate that, too.” He excitedly claims, “Plastic and all!”
“I…love whatever’s wrong with you.” Toji furrows his brows. “But also what.”
“Enough talk—exchange the rings then vow your undying love!” Kugisaki yells. “Then die!” She turns to some of the other kids looking at her strange- “What? I don’t mean it like that—the drama’s just better when they die. Where are you going- where are you-”
“Scary kid.” Toji comments. “But sweet. But scary.”
Megumi distances himself from everything.
Before long, Yuta’s announcing that they ‘exchange’ rings.
You mime putting one on him.
From the sidelines, Todo sobs into Itadori’s t-shirt—seriously, were they actually related or not?! “Marriagemaxxing already…I’m so p-proud of you my rizzler…my brother in rizz…my sidekick…”
He jerks. “Side—”
Yuta speaks. “And do you, Ms. Teacher—take this auraless man to be your husband?” He can already tell who came up with this officiant’s script- but before he can throw a glance at the trio and Todo, you’re nodding.
“I do.”
Toji feels his heart flutter. He grows warm.
And his fingers are just as tender and sweet as they slip that ring pop onto your left hand—“Then I announce you married- uh. Smooch?”
“Euuuuuuuugh! Gross-” Megumi wails.
If Toji thought that he’d been warm earlier—then he wasn’t prepared for right now. It feels as though his entire body was on fire from the inside; every vein, every cell, every single part of him that hummed with delight at the notion. That made him blush.
So embarrassingly, as though this was his first-ever crush.
Toji catches your eye- and you give him the briefest of nods.
And then he’s leaning in…he’s hearing your breath catch- and pressing his lips to the back of your hand - just the lightest of grazes, where the ring pop stood out - before pulling back just as quickly. Nothing indecent. Nothing that would give away anything to you—
That ring…
It tasted sweet on his lips.
The surrounding kids cheer- loudly. Now it seems that everyone in the playground had joined in on this little act—and that’s exactly what it was.
Just a little act.
Toji’s lips quiver with the beginnings of a sentence he’s been aching to say for so long-
And then the school bell rings denoting time for pick-up.
Around you, the kids run to their classrooms and their backpacks - excited to tell their parents about what they’d just done in the playground. And as the sea of small bodies moves and thrashes against the two of you…Toji just remains standing. Staring.
Something within him still unfinished and unsatisfied—
You’re keeping his gaze for a few more seconds, before finally dropping it and unscrewing the plastic ring from your finger. “I uh…sorry about that- and thank you for playing along.”
“Yeah…” He faintly says. “Yeah, no problem.”
You give him a tight-lipped smile. “And if you don’t mind, I should probably…”
You gesture to the parents that had started walking in now, and he jerkily nods. “Yeah- yeah, go do…that.”
“Yeah, I…” You’re then holding your hand out to him- nodding at him to keep his palm open. Then dropping the strawberry-scented ring pop into his hand. “Guess the divorce came a little sooner than expected, huh?”
“Two seconds, that’s a new record.”
Starting to walk back—you briefly wave. If he was a cockier man, he’d have called you nervous. “I’ll see you at the talent show, ex-husband.”
“Hopefully sooner, ex-wife.”
“Oh- yes, the upcoming parent-teacher meetings.”
“That…” Toji murmurs to himself. That too, he supposes.
And as he watches you leave…Kugisaki is the first to speak up. “Not even a date? Awww man, I hate slowburns.”
He gapes, “I uh…”
“No, he got scared of his feelings—” Itadori adds. Toji squirms. “Did you know my uncle says he doesn’t have feelings? My grandpa agrees.”
“Dad.” Megumi pulls on Toji’s t-shirt to get his attention.
“Yes, son?”
And so deadpan, so unexpected- “You fumbled just like Klay Thompson.”
Dammit, son.
Speedwalking to the school with them. “The fuck just happened?”
That one he mouths- he mouths. But Inumaki writes that one down fast-
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE? CURRENTLY ON HOLD…
Reason: Parent-teacher meetings.
Status: Dire. Auraless. Megumi doesn’t claim him.
Will the plan have to be abandoned?!
“So.”
“So…” You’re twiddling your thumbs together on top of the desk, eyes trained on Toji whilst his own dart around the colorful classroom. “Megumi’s such a good kid- honestly there’s nothing more to say about him.”
Because today was the day of parent-teacher meetings; that half-an-hour where parents sit before you and leaf through crayon drawings and mathematics that made them cringe. Toji himself hadn’t been the biggest fan of them when Megumi was younger—why the fuck would kindergarteners need parent-teacher meetings?!
But now that his teacher was you…
At least it gave him something even more to look forward to.
So he sets his elbows on your desk and leans in—every meeting had been conducted sitting on opposite sides of your teachers’ desk. It was far too much proximity for his poor heart to take—but you sure as hell won’t hear him complaining.
Not a single peep.
He glides his roughened fingertips over the pages before him- Megumi was never the type to be cagey about his grades. And either way he did get everything above an 80%.
Toji tries not to let the tips of his lips twitch upwards into a smile—especially as he looked over one of the artworks that Megumi had done: a slightly-smudged drawing of three small figures, one with pink hair, another with a brown bob-cut, and then a portrait of himself.
And then two larger figures on either side of them
Toji and yourself.
The prompt had been Megumi’s family…
“You should be very proud, y’know.” Your gentle voice breaks through the quiet air in the classroom.
Toji had come slightly after the other parents, as organizing Megumi’s little sleepover at the Itadori household (with Kugisaki and Todo in tow) had been absolute chaos. Today they’d offered to take the children in because apparently Itadori had gotten some earthworm movies he’d wanted to share. And though Megumi didn’t seem particularly excited at the prospect of earthworms, he’d been begging for weeks to have this sleepover.
Now. The sunlight dipped beneath the horizon outside, casting the classroom into its warm embrace—like kindling fire. The light bounced off your features and touched his lips, too. Where things were perpetually encased in day and the hours were hot and lazy—like the leaping spark from a fireplace.
For the first time in a long time, Toji lets himself smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
You’re nodding with a smile- “He speaks about you a lot, did you know that?” Once Toji shakes his head, you’re continuing. “About how strong you are, about how you’re funny—” Your nose crinkles, “-but an awful cook.”
“Hey!” Toji squawks, indignified. “I try.”
“I know.” Something about that felt so knowing. “It really is a pleasure having Megumi in my class- he’s quiet but I think Yuji and Nobara are slowly bringing him out of his shell. He’s diligent. He’s quietly kind. He’s a sensitive kid, he notices things faster than most.”
“I’m sure he gets that from me.” He smirks.
You hum, staring at the blood-orange sky outside. There’s a long pause before you speak again—“And I think it’s sweet how he’s trying with his friends to set the two of us up.”
Toji’s jaw drops.
Actually drops.
For a moment he’s speechles—hell, he thinks he might be speechless till the end of time. Sure, he’d guessed that you must’ve noticed something being off…but he never thought you’d actually realize the two of you are being set up—!
You catch the look in his eyes- “Oh, c’mon. You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice, did you?”
“I uh…”
“The cookies. The wingmanning. The wedding. The plans-” Stifling a laugh. “Elementary schoolers aren’t very good at whispering, you know that?”
“Damn.” Toji fists his hands, softly thumping them against the table. “And here I thought a bunch of elementary schoolers could fix my love life…”
You hum—something coy in your tone. “Why don’t you fix it yourself?”
And Toji’s snapping his head up so fast that he thinks he might’ve caught whiplash-
“Would you…” He swallows. He starts off unsurely. “…maybe…like to get coffee sometime-”
“Yes.”
Barely waiting till the sentence flies off his tongue before you respond- it makes Toji wonder whether you’ve been waiting for this as long as he has.
Embarrassment shows in your slightly-frantic movements, as you start picking at the stationary on your desk and smoothing out your clothes. Nervous. It hits him. “I uh…you’re my last meeting of the day, actually. I’m free to grab some coffee now, if you want?”
He’s never agreed to anything faster in his life.
Less than twenty minutes later and the two of you have found yourselves in the cute new coffee shop down the road. The faintest memory of sugary goods still etched on your smiling lips, and your cups of drinks warming your hands—the two of you were sitting and talking at a window booth when the rain had started.
“Oh, shit…” You peer outside. “You were right.”
“Hm?” Toji takes a sip of his black coffee.
“The weathermen always lie.”
More than the panging warmth at the idea that you’d remembered a throwaway comment he’d said- was what you’d followed that sentence up with.
“Hey, I know this is out-of-the-blue, but…I don’t have an umbrella with me, and taxis are costly this time of evening.” You shift in your seat, avoiding his eyes for perhaps the first time since he’s met you—“My apartment’s close by if you’d wanna maybe grab an umbrella from there? You could even hang around until the rain subsides, if you want…”
This time, it’s his turn to reply embarrassingly fast. “Fuck yeah.”
And so you’d ran.
You’d ran hot on each other’s heels as though someone was chasing you—maybe fear, maybe your inhibitions, maybe the feeling that Fushiguro Toji wanted to kiss you so badly.
So bad.
You’re sploshin’ the five-minute walk it takes to reach your apartment- before you’re both darting inside and closing the door to the world. Just the two of you. On opposite sides of the narrow vestibule connecting the entrance to the living room. To your bedroom.
Toji presses himself against the cream-colored wall and breathes in. heavy.
This entire place carried your sweet, sweet scent—and it was driving him crazy.
In front of him, your hands seemed to absent-mindedly reach for the umbrella holder- blindly clasping around one polished handle. “I uh…”
“You-”
You’re both attempting to speak at the same time—then abruptly stop when the other speaks. You gesture for him to continue, and he does the same for you-
“I just meant- here’s your umbrella.”
“Thanks.” Like a zombie, he’s reaching out and clasping it.
This was it—this was really it.
He was about to leave.
He was about to wake up from this dream.
Before Toji’s letting the umbrella drop to the floor- and you’re both crashing into one another. It’s built and built—and the coil of tension had tightened and tightened before finally snapping—!
Lips against lips.
Tongues against teeth.
His lips sliding against yours and positively ravishing you—one of his large hands finds purchase on the back of your head. His warm touch. Toji feels the pretty pulse on your neck quicken as he tips your head back and delves his tongue even deeper - memorizing the taste of you to every crevice in his brain.
Your essence…he wants it imbued into him.
Absolutely starving.
He just couldn’t get enough of you.
He just couldn’t get enough of you.
The two of you are making out sloppily- and the sounds of lips lifting from lips permeates your entire apartment. Punctuated occasionally by the hollow grunts that Toji himself was letting off.
Your cunt twitches between your legs - and you’re pressing yourself into Toji even further. Pushing against his toned body. Rolling your hips against the raging, hot erection that’d found itself home in his pants. Just the sheer size of it- the thickness, the way it throbbed against you was enough to make you let out a soft, simpering nose.
One that he’s gladly swallowing up whole—greedily, even. Because that’s exactly what he was.
A fucking greedy man for everything that’s to do with you.
And he’s waited for far too long.
In no time, you’re taking him by his larger hand and pulling him to your bedroom. Leaving the umbrella and your reservations behind.
Toji lets out a hallowed groan as he’s being pushed back into the bed- the backs of his knees hitting the mahogany bed frame. Your hands flying to the ties of his trousers. Your own knees striking the floor—
“Easy there…” Toji brushes one hand down the side of your face- reaching back into your scalp and tightening. “Don’t want my girl to get hurt.”
“Your girl?” You grin. “You haven’t even asked me out on a proper date yet.”
“And you should be buyin’ me dinner before this. Lecher.”
You’re huffing as you’re able to tear that wretched fabric off his muscular legs- finally. And your jaw…drops…
He was so…
Fucking big.
From the moment his achin’ cock’s freed, Toji springs out and seems to pulse even thicker—the start of his base reminding you of one of those soda cans. Toji reaches down to wrap his other hand ‘round it, his palm covering some of the dark curls decorating his pelvis, and he seems to look even bigger when framed like this.
Rock-hard. Covered in numerous veins.
They were dappled all across his inches and throb-throb-throbbing- so ravenously hard that Toji’s length twitched the moment he’s feelin’ the cold bedroom air.
And not only was he big, but that curve of his shaft was delicious.
It made you wonder what it’d feel like to have him curve up inside…
Upwards tilted. That crown of his craning up at the ceiling. The pointed end of his cock ended off with his blushin’ mushroom tip- so fat n’ already soaked in his wads of sopping precum. The color of it was the prettiest tannish pink you’ve ever seen in your entire life—and so you really couldn’t help but lean down and press a chaste peck-
The taste of his salted-caramel pre takes over your tastebuds immediately.
“O-oh…” Toji’s head throws backwards with a gravelly groan. “Don’t go teasing me now, doll.”
“You’re the one that’s been teasing me this entire time.” You counter. Though you’re loosenin’ your jaw and taking him in even further. Inch by solid fucking inch.
It’s hard to stuff Toji’s cock all down your throat like you so-badly wanted- he was big. N’ those zig-zagging veins down his length made you want to linger…massaging the roof of your mouth with a few semi-gulps that rub his inches on top. Again and again.
You’re shuttering your eyes and moaning deep into his shaft at the carnal scratch he somehow seemed to soothe.
“Ah ah—” You’re hearing him before you’re feeling him- suddenly, two thick fingertips are pinching your poor nostrils together. Eyelids flapping open to stare up at him.
Toji has the most cocky smile across his beautiful scarred lips as he peers down at you. “Now what’s this about refusin’ to take me anymore?” He asks you, punctuating the that of his sentence with a thorough nudge of his bulbous tip down your throat. “You don’t wanna take me any further, doll? Or you…”
And another.
Though, this time, it wasn’t a nudge at all.
And Toji’s massive length is pushing apart the wet walls of your throat- and mazing his throbbing cock inside. The noises you’re letting out when you slurp him up are so pretty—
And the older man uses his second hand to wipe a stray tear off your cheeks, “-can’t?”
“Mmm–mmmfg.” Choking down both your needy sobs n’ your breaths. You’re clawing at his thicks- so thick and toned.
“What? Whaaaat?” He pinches your nose even harder. “Wha’s the matter, teach?”
“You-” Barely able to mangle out some semblance of coherent syllables - you’re going cross-eyed trying to both take him in deeper, and look at the fingers blocking off your airway. “Mmm- ngh.” Whatever mess of a sentence that was meant to be, it’s coming out embarrassingly jumbled.
Embarrassingly so.
And tears are just starting to stream down your cheeks- your cunt’s getting even wetter at his actions and pushing against his toned calf- once he finally lets go. Finally.
With a loud pwah! you’re removin’ your swollen lips off of his cock. Feeling for your poor nose that’s startin’ to sting—“So mean, Toji. I should’ve bit that dick off.” You joke.
He looks at you with a leer, “We both know that out of the two of us, you’d be the most disappointed with that.” And it was true- it really was true. But Toji takes it a step further by lazily reaching his calf over and pushing it against your cunt. Dripping wet even through those panties of yours- your pretty dress was hiked up n’ already exposing that sweet puddle that’d formed in the middle of your underwear.
His mouth waters at the sight.
“See what I mean?” Then Toji straightens up and pats the top of his manspread thighs. An invitation.
“But, I haven’t even…”
“S’okay.” He nods at you reassuringly. You didn’t have to worry about any of that needing to please shit with him- he’d be the one driving you wild tonight. “I have something even- heh, sweeter in mind.”
And hopefully every night after that.
In a mere few moments, you’re settling yourself on Toji’s lap. And then he’s attacking your mouth in a mind-numbing kiss, tongue swipin’ between your lips before ultimately sucking on those tastebuds of yours. Sucking. Like candy.
He then maneuvers the two of you to then drape you across the sheets; slightly sodden with lust and perspiration. The blankets stick against your clammy skin as Toji presses your hips down on the mattress- “Down, girl.” His fingertips dig into the side of your waist.
“What’s that about not teasing?” You pant.
With a low chuckle, Toji presses a peck on the left side of your hips—then creeps himself down until his handsome features were huffin’ and puffin’ against your sodden cunt. His own hot breath seemed to reach out to you—curling, cloooouding, it seemed to stroke down that watery slit of yours. “Fushiguro Toji never teases.”
“You’re teasing right-”
“M’just waiting for the perfect moment.” And there’s not a second wasted- before Toji lurches himself nose-deep between your legs and gives your dripping pussy a good lick!
“O-oh…” Your mouth waters at the brazen touch- body jolting just a little. Though if you thought that Toji would let you so much as squirm whilst he’s locked between those thighs of yours, then you’d be sorely mistaken. His fingers dip down the expanse of your legs and clutches you close against his ravenous maw—“Aren’t you going to take off my panties, Toji?”
“Don’t be vulgar, doll.” He mutters- just to tease you. “M’gonna eat you through your panties, of course.”
And it’s the only warning you’re getting.
Before Toji latches his puckered lips to your cunt- properly, this time. And his loooooong tongue was lavishin’ across every inch of your pussy he can reach. Through your panties—Toji gapes his mouth open and laps like a fuckin’ animal at the leaking slit your underwear was stick to, your swollen folds, your utterly needy button.
“Mmmmpf-” Toji’s prominent nose pushes apart your pussylips, and he’s feelin’ for that puckered, pretty nub. Already throbbing like you’ve been so impatient for him this entire time.
He presses himself closely against your clit for a few seconds—throb-throb-throb!
Like a ticking time bomb. He’s driving himself absolutely wild; before snakin’ your panties to the side and thrashing his tongue against your raw cunt. Slurping. Sucking. Everything and anything of you he could find - he’s pushing himself so nose-deep into your pussy that he damn-near can’t breathe—and eating you out like an animal. “Mmmm, don’t you move a s-single inch now.” Toji tightens his hold on your quivering legs. “I haven’t even started yet.”
“Started what…?” You babble out - your hips were yearning to push off the creaking mattress.
Though all it took was a fraction of his strength to pin you back down, roverin’ his tongue on the slick-glued insides of your folds. Rooooound and round in circles that left your mind dizzy. “Heh- what else d’you think?” Toji answers. “M’teaching this pussy how to take Fushiguro Toji, that mouth of yours barely could.”
“Rude.”
Before you could pipe up anything more witty, he’s spankin’ four fingertips down on your glistening pussy. “S’not rude if it’s true.”
“I’m the teacher here, though.”
“Then maybe I’m the principal.” He leers- swabbing the fat edge of his tongue into your hole. “Gonna grade you and everything…”
“That’s fuckin’ corny—”
“Made your pussy weep, though.”
And just in good time, too- because almost immediately he’s letting that first inch of his tongue fuck inside your cunt. Just the first inch. But it was already enough to make your toes curl n’ your back arch—Toji’s wet muscle was just so thiiiiiiick.
He’s pluggin’ up your orifices with a mere few thrusts - the ridged texture of his tastebuds kneading your tight walls. Shovelling you open. Shovelling himself deeper inside. The flickerin’ tip of his tongue laps against some of your most tender areas n’ then pushes up into the sensitive roof of your cunt-
“Sh-shiiiiit—” You’re keening out in the prettiest trill he’s ever heard. Toji has the audacity to let out a wet giggle at your dripping core - clenching ‘round him.
His ears burn at the musical note- and before long, your folds are burning at the searing smack! that he’s planting on top of your cunt. Your head drops down to stare at him in shock.
“That’s a C- for handling yourself.” He echoes. Two more spanks follow—before Toji nuzzles your gummy pussy n’ laps his tongue across your clit. “But an A for pretty moans.”
“I th-think that grading syllabus is a little- ngh! skewed, don’t you think?”
Yet another spank.
“Not at all.”
He was merciless. Ruthless.
Absolutely impounding you with those slashing, scouring strokes of his - Toji’s thrusts manage to reach so much deeper than you’d have ever guessed. And when he felt that his tongue was stuffed inside your pretty pussy far ‘nough, he’s flaring those edges outwards and scraping his tastebuds down the sides of your walls. Stimulating your snug channel sooooo fuckin’ good—
“S’that so?” Toji flutters his long, dark lashes up at you. It takes a second for you to register that you might just have said that last thought out loud.
Though you’re merely steeling your expression and nodding-
He’s plasterin’ his fingertips against your puckered pussy with a chuckle. “Cute. But flattery’s gonna get you nowhere- with all this damn squirming you’re doing, your C’s dropping down to a- haaaah, D.”
Your eyes pop open. “B-but…”
“And just think-” Toji continues without a single speck of mercy for you. His tongue’s tunneling and thrusting- faster than your frenzied mind can keep up with. “-that if you’re reacting like this to just my long tongue…” Thrust after thrust after thrust—the curvaceous inches of his tongue don’t leave a single bundle of nerve unprobed. Zig-zagging and swabbing wildly - your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. “-yer gonna fucking run away when it comes to my cock, doll.”
“Oh—” You’re tumbling your hips constantly up to him. Attempting to heighten the friction. “Promise I won’t. Promise-”
“And now look at you.” And after all he’s taught you…Toji grasps his left hand underneath your arching body. Grabbing a nice handful of your ass cheeks- it makes him smile to watch your mouth drop in shock at the lecherous action. “Dropped down to a D-.”
A fucking minus.
That earns you several more wet spanks. And then a fucking pinch—right on your clit.
And Toji merely trundles, “Where the fuck does this pretty pussy think she’s going?”
Crashing his lips into…yours. Quiverin’ your weakened limbs around the back of his neck-
Your ankles are weakly latching themselves there- slightly glissading down his glossy strands. It messes up his hair just a little, and Toji’s soon finding himself smirking against those pussylips.
“Tch…fine, you get a B for neediness.”
Only a B?!
But perhaps it was better that you’d kept your mouth shut - mostly because you couldn’t speak over the primal moans that kept escaping your throat - because then Toji’s sinking his canines ‘round your clit and swervin’ his face aaaaaaall around your pussy. Every corner and inch.
He’s fucking coating his features in a layer of your shimmering slick.
Like a damn medallion.
It clings to him in long, ropey excess.
“O-oh my god—” And then your trilling vocals break the very second that he’s intruding your hole once more- this time, with his fingers…
You weave your own hands into Toji’s sweat-dampened hair and hold on for dear life.
“Hmmm, a little possessive, huh? M’bumping that neediness to a- hah, A+...heh.” As a reward, you’re getting his textured lips encasing your sopping clit—just so desperate and damn-near flinching with how hard you were pulsing between your legs. Needing. Needing.
Your breath comes out in stuttered bursts, and it takes everything in you to echo. “A-and what do I have to reach to- mm, get your cock, Toji?”
“I dunno, aren’t you the one with a t-teaching degree?” He’s babbling- before that haziness in his eyes clear up once he realizes what he’s just said. “No, wait—I’m pretending to be…I’m the one gradin’ now…”
Toji looks down at your pussy as though offended. A spank wasn’t enough, he’s properly spitting.
“This pussy’s made me pussydrunk, heeeeh?” He scoffs n’ edges in to suckle on your clit—all while his two bulky fingers were scissoring between your pussylips. “An A+ for that…”
Pussydrunk.
Though you’re not doing too well yourself.
You’re just sizzling from the very insides - even your very vessels seemed to be vibrating with that carnal sort of needy for him. And as Toji’s slashing strikes with his fingers accelerate, so does that kindling pit of pleasure in your stomach. “I th-think m’close, Toji…”
“Close?” Toji’s breath hitches. “Close? And we haven’t even finished the grading yet—buck up, doll, because m’not holding back anymore.”
“Th-that was you holding back?!”
Evidently so.
And you can surely attest to that—in mere moments, he’s adding in a third finger with a lecherous slurp! of his honed inches bein’ all sucked in. Down every single joint. Down to his damn knuckles; you’re feeling those mountainous ridges push up against your sensitive pussy, and Toji’s three fingers were rovering and reeeeeaching every single spot inside.
Claiming them as his.
Toji laps up a silken line of slick that’d dripped from your cunt and down his wrist—you were claiming him as yours, too…“Got a second to hear your grades, doll?” Whilst the desperate pleads start to bubble at your throat- “Won’t be given’ you this cock until you do…”
“Then tell them to me—” You shriek. Haaaauling at the thick tufts of his scalp, “Fucking tell them, Toji.”
“Well, manners fuckin’ F.” Toji huffs- but he couldn’t fool you. Ohhh, the expression on his face was pure ecstasy as you guided his lapping face around your cunt. “But manners for this pussy…hmmmm…B.”
“Only a fucking B-”
“Roughness: used to be C- but oh, m’thinking it’s now an A.” He comments - the more and more frustrated you become, the more your carnal urges surface. Your grip is searing on his scalp. Your legs are locking around his neck. “Doesn’t mean you can go easier on me now, teach.”
“Fuh-fuuuuck, Toji—”
“Wetness: A+ of course.” Rolling his eyes as if that should be obvious, “Sweetness: A++.”
“Fuck-”
“That mouth of yours? D.”
“Fuck you.”
“M’trying to. And hmmmm, about the way she clenches…” He ponders- before then directly diverting his round, rotund fingertips to the spot just a few inches into your channel. He’s already mapped your smallest ridges n’ crevices out by all of these thrusts- and you’re feeling pure white-hot pleasure run down your spine as Toji then rams his dexterous fingers into your fucking g-spot. “That’s an A+++”
Because of course, you’re keeping him hostage.
Of course, you’re squeezing your velvety walls around him until his joints were turning white—and Toji’s fingers were havin’ a tough time moving back and forth stuffed between those clingy walls of yours.
And yet…he’s scissoring apart your needy grip and rammin’ into your deepest, most sensitive depths.
Again and again and again- “Yeah…this pussy’s definitely gonna take me now. Isn’t that right, teach?” But the only thing your fried head can urge you into doing is nodding. “Tha’s what I thought. Dumbification: A.” Toji cocks his head. “Don’tcha think I’m being too nice with these grades?”
Shaking your head fervently- through sobs.
“Mmmm…well, I think I am.” His canines teasingly grip your clit and draaaaag that swollen nub out. “S’alright doll. After this, you can grade my cock when s’time…”
He smirks - still keeping that firm attachment onto your most sensitive place - and you can feel it. You can feel it—
“And you can be as fuh-fuckin’ ruthless as you want.” Toji’s long fingers then curl inside your cunt for a final time before…“Because I know m’gonna be fucking my girl right.”
Before you’re shattering.
Breaking into your high—it first starts with an explosion of pleasure between your legs- before teleporting right up to your fuzzy head. Your thighs were quaking. Your pulse was thundering so loud you could hear it with your own ears- and it felt as though those torrential waves of bliss were just taking you over.
“Oh—oh, fuck.” Clawing your hands through Toji’s hair. The only anchor you had was this- and the tunneling digits that were fingering you to ecstasy- he was hitting at every peak. He was elongating your orgasm more than you ever thought possible. “Fuck, fuck, fuck- fuuuuuck, Toji.”
“Tha’s right- say my name.” He grunts. Such lecherous slurps! echoing from between those legs of yours as he sucked n’ sucked on your clit simultaneously. “Say my name- say my name. Who’s making you feel this good?”
“Toji.” You hiccup. “Y-you, Toji.”
A sudden spank! resounds across all four corners of the room.
Your high crescendos even further than your limits- or at least what you’d assumed them to be.
“I was lookin’ for sir, but that works, too…” Your jaw drops at the boldness of this man.
“Sir? D-don’t think that you’re getting off easy when I- ngh, when I finally ride you stupid.” As the last few pangs of your orgasm shimmer through your body, you’re managing to gather your thoughts better than before. “What do you think you’d get anyway?”
Toji pulls off your oversensitive pussy with a loud plap! “A’s across the board.”
“Oh, don’t be so humble.”
With that said- you’re reaching out and grabbing Toji by the collar. He gets dragged upwards—the bed dips as the larger man cages you in with his strong forearms. He leers, “I think you pass, don’t you?” You could see that somewhere during makin’ out with your pussy, Toji had tugged down his pants- likely to jerk himself off as he did so.
And his long cock stood aching and rock-hard between his legs.
That round, reddened tip of his seemed to wink up at you as he dribbled out a single bead of precum. Aaaaall the way from the edge of his cockhead, and aaaaaall the way down to his bushy black curls at the base.
Your mouth waters.
Hands on his body- his fingers tearing through your own fabric. Soon enough you’re naked beneath him—and he’s just as devastatingly bare. Perfectly-aligned abs. Chiselled pecs. Fushiguro Toji had a body that made him look as though he was hand-carved by Hercules himself- it was just so sensual the way his ladder-like core pushed down against yours.
And it’s so difficult to keep a stern face facing him when those bulky biceps of his were flexing—right next to your face.
But somehow you manage- you were a professional after all, weren’t you?
“I’m serious about what I said on riding you stupid.” You’re murmuring up at him, “Flip over.”
He smirks, “And if I don’t?”
Within split-seconds, you’re grabbing a fistful of his hair and watch as his cock twitches at the rough manhandling—at the way you’re turning the two of you over and straddlin’ his hips. Toji bucks with a groan underneath you, but you’re quicker than that- and you’re clasping a hand around his gulping throat. Sweaty and scorching to the touch .
“Ah ah-” You tut. “You already had your fun. Now it’s time for mine…”
“Aye aye, teach.”
“Quiet coyote.”
Toji mimes zipping his lips shut—but there’s openin’ back up again almost instantly once he feels your sultry hips swivelling down his cock. You duck a hand underneath yourself to grab his throbbing hilt- and before long, his wet tip’s smushing apart your pussylips. He’s intruding that hole of yours and bucking up into where you needed him the most.
He shovels in a few more inches with an echoing sluuuurp! of your pussy viciously gulping him up.
“What did I…oh.” Beside yourself, your head’s throwing backwards at the sheer pressure he was creating inside. “What did I say about staying still?”
“Actually…you didn’t say anything about that.” That grin of his was infuriatingly handsome. “Still, mmm, cockdrunk?”
“You wish…” Though that wasn’t an outright denial.
It was true that your mind was coiled with fog after your last orgasm; the dopamine still coursing through your body. And the way that Toji’s thickened, textured length was pushing your walls aside wasn’t helping—it was making you feel sensations so raw and carnal- that saliva’s dripping down one side of your mouth after a mere few semi-thrusts.
Just the bulging edge of Toji’s tip scourin’ your channel inwards.
“Awww, don’t tell me I was right?” He asks you- and it registers as mere distant words. Toji reaches out his right hand and wipes away that splatter of spit - before bringing it up to his own mouth and sucking. What an animal. “Can’t grade ol’ Toji’s cock? Or is it- heh, so good that I’m breaking all the scales?”
“You fucking-”
“Yeah yeah, wish- right?” He scoffs meanly. But honestly…he might be teasing you but he was completely infatuated with the idea of your smart mouth babbling for him like this.
The way you were twitchin’ with every light graze of his flared tip.
Your insides were getting used to him, and Toji was only stuffing himself even deeper. “Right…” Though of course- Toji himself wasn’t doing all too hot. Just a single one of your adhesive-like clenches and he can’t help but buck—
“Easy, eeeeasy- you can take me, my girl.” He grits his teeth. He blinks back the tears in his eyes. He’s guiding your impatient hips n’ grinding your cunt dooooown onto his pelvis. “Fuck- fuck, and how d’you grade the stretch?”
Your eyes pop open. “The stretch?”
“Mhm- the streeeeetch—yeah?” Toji’s chest rumbles in delight as he watches your every microexpression and reaction. Even the smallest curlings of your toes. “Such a big stretch feels good, yeah?”
“Mhm- I rate it a…” Your jaw hangs open- as though to purposefully influence your grading, he’s shovelling his length a few more times. Faster. “B.”
And that…what the fuck?!
“A fucking what?” That makes Toji’s maw gape, and his handsome face twist into something of bewilderment. You look at him and you honestly let out a little chuckle - but that seems to only spur his driving hips even further. “Oh noooo, doll. You’re joking.”
“I said what I said.” Biting back. “It’s a B because…” Throwing your head back and arching—you’re gaining more movement in your hips and letting him push inside. “-you’re just not- fuck. Bottoming. Out. Fucking do it already—!”
His feet plant ever-so-slightly on the ricketing mattress- and that means you were feeling the plushness of his muscular thighs against your back. Those tendons and rippling strength. There’s honestly nothing more for you to do but gnaw down on your trembling lower lip in the hopes that those embarrassing noises won’t escape-
Because Toji then glues his hands upon either side of your hips and slams your cunt down onto him.
It’s such incredible friction. It’s so many of his winding veins- pushin’ apart your walls and scouring you all over—
You’re arching your back into him and gasping- “A…”
“A what?”
“A for your veins.” And that honestly manages to catch him off-guard and make him let out an exhilarated bout of laughter. Being in your presence was like four shots of espresso—fucking you was four shots of vodka. Straight. He’s dizzy and he’s clamorin’ his numerous inches up your pretty channel, watching as you drip glittering globs of slick all ‘round him.
“Oh…” Toji seems to grow even bigger inside you. He grips you as hard as your pussy was clenchin’ him. “Keep going-”
“And a- fuck, an A for your pace—” Just perfect. Dizzingly fast; whilst still being steady and balanced enough that you were able to feel his textured length slipping into every spot he needed to slip into—“And a…a fucking F for your attitude.”
“Hey…” Toji juts his scarred lip out in a mock-attempt at a pout. “Don’t imply m’sassy when your pussy speaks like that to me.”
Right on cue, you’re letting out some of the most sinful slurps as your cunt slaps right down onto him. Onto his hefty balls.
Toji’s thick brows raise at the sounds- even he didn’t think that your pussy could get this chatty. Mouth falling agape as he watches you drip-drip-driiiip.
You’re grabbing onto both of Toji’s sculptured deltoids for balance, increasing your pace as your legs start to grow limp. Perhaps noticing your little struggle, he’s supporting one of your legs with his left hand—and thumbing over your clit with his right. “And then? What else—dick got yer tongue?”
“You fuckin’ wish.” You snipe back.
“Yeah.” Toji simply replies. Without a single warning, he’s craning his head up and signalling you to open your mouth- instinctually, your tongue sticks out. Perfect for him to spit—a heaping mess between your lips. “You looked so pretty with my cock stuffed down your throat, too.”
Grumbling - though it was just for show - yet you swallow. “That was a B- since you almost missed.” One of your hands reaches up to swipe at the splattered saliva piled on the edge of your mouth.
“Oh, no.” With such a loving glint in his eyes, he’s leaning up and kissing the mess he’d just left behind. “That was totally on purpose, doll.”
“F-filthy…”
“You know it, teach.”
Both of your bodies were slick with sweat and glissading against one another- Toji himself was especially frenzied with his movement. His thrusts. His battering rams. The way his pointed tip struck the end of your cervix—bottomed-out, and then smeared apart your channel to drag aaaaaaall the way back down. Aaaaaaall the way back in.
And through it all- you’re sputtering out the same ruthless grading of his cock. Red-hot and ruining your insides with every thrust. Pump after pump- “Deepness…B.”
Bruising his tip’s circumference at the very back of your pussy. Dribbling out ribbons of pre.
“Hmmm, alright a B+.” Pleasure runs through your body the more n’ more Toji grows irritated- because that meant the more he was trying to prove himself. The harder he was fucking you. “And the- hah, curve: an A.”
“Damn right.” That, he could most certainly be proud of. That slightly upwards curve of him was the perfect shape to mold your walls- to let his honed tip be the searchlight.
And your sweetest spots were what he was aiming for.
After a few more vulgar strokes, Toji’s rediscovering and ramming himself into none other than your g-spot. That throbbing bundle of nerves that’d just kept on and on waiting for him to probe you with his shaft—perhaps a bit too long at that…“What took you so long to find that spot again, Toji?”
“Take it easy on me…” He pleads with a slight hint of amusement. “Your pussy was to- mmm, hypnotizing. You can’t blame a guy for taking a little time…needy fuckin’ pussy.”
That last bit was said to himself- underneath his breath, in fact.
And yet, your proximity means that you’re catching onto every single word - and without a split-second of hesitation you’re countering back. “Oh? What was that…I’m sorry, maybe I was- hngh, hearing things? Because it just sounded to me like you wanted all your g-grade to plummet to an F?”
His lips part. “You wouldn’t…”
You peck him on the mouth. “Try. Me.”
And fuuuuuck—it’s clear he’s not expecting the way that sends pangs of excitement coursing through every inch of him. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to fucking do with himself- once he propells his ruddied cockhead to hit against the door to your womb.
And Toji’s thighs are left shivering at the way your walls immediately rush to embrace him.
Suctioning him.
A ribbon of drool drips slowly from the edge of his mouth, “A-and what do I have to do to make it up?”
“Hmmmm?” The fact that you made the Fushiguro Toji stutter so blatantly like this…it was driving you wild. It was making the cockiest smile plaster across your face- he wanted to kiss it away so bad but you were teasingly inching your lips away, making him work for it.
He growls and repeats- “What do I have to fucking do to get- hah, extra credit? To make up for my…” Toji’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs. “-mistake.”
“There now. Was that so hard to- hah, admit?” You coo. “Gimme a D.”
“Huh?” Toji gapes. “Aren’t you the one supposed to be- ngh, giving out the grades?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just telling you to shut up and fuck me harder with your fat dick—”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He lightly stirs his hips in semi-circular motions to get the most out of his veiny cock- to make sure that those prized n’ precious vessels were massaging your insides just right. “Fuck-” Your entire upper half is shaking from stimulation - “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck—just like that.”
“Hngh, oh yeah?” Honed canines beared.
“Faster-” And he listens.
“Harder.” And he listens once more.
“Fucking-” You’re it escape you in a trilling tone. “-b-breed me…”
Toji’s breathless once the words register to him. “Yes, ma’am…”
Pumping up into you - meeting your bouncin’ cadence - like he was angry with you. Like he was trying to shove to your deepest depths n’ then probe his erect cock even further. Like he was trying to meld your bodies into one—
He was fucking you in a way that was so animalistic.
And Toji can’t help it- fuck, he can’t help but throw his head back—it just feels so good. Eyes shuttering. Brows furrowing. His hips unsticking from the now-dampened bedsheets to arch properly up into you-
But that’s when he feels those familiar fingers ‘round his throat again.
“Ah ah ah—” You tut. Your vision was just a little bleary from all the tears and pleasure clogging up your mind- “And who said you could- hah, move, hm? Seems like you’re the one running away, not me. What? Scared m’gonna milk you too hard, Fushiguro Toji?”
He growls. “You little…”
“F- for handling yourself.” Remembering just how much he’d teased you earlier for similar reactions just made these words so much sweeter on your tongue. “In fact…”
Toji looks eagerly up at you through his bangs.
To which you’re taking your lazy time changing your sloppy cadence into figure-eights instead. It swerved n’ stirred his pussy around your depths; and made it so that the most sensitive parts of Toji’s veins - that pinkish line underneath his slit, the frailest of his veins, where his balls rested - were being stimulated. Making him pour out wads of precum into you as though it was a waterfall—
“See me after class.”
“Fuck yes.” Toji grunts to himself- his hair was flying into his face, and every bit of his skin seemed to be furiously flushed. “Fuck—fuck, I need to cum inside you.”
Plap after plap after plap! of his hips hitting yours. “Mhmmm—”
“I n-need to fill you up until here-” His thumb briefly detaches from your clit to graze your lower stomach, where your womb was wont to be. “I need to feel it pouring out of you- then fuck it all back in.” And he was pistoning into you like it, too.
“Shit, m’close-”
Hard. Fast. The wads of his sappy precum only get stronger and more frequent - “I n-need to…”
Toji’s voice hatches into nothingness in his throat, and you’re cooing down at him cutely. “What’s thaaaat?”
“Need you to make me a f-father for a second time.” Toji utters.
And then with a particularly hard press on your heart-shaped, swollen clit—you’re both tumbling into your highs together. Tumbling into one another as you both hold each other through your strong orgasms - even stronger than the one you’d had prior.
Zaps and twinges of pleasure.
Goosebumps dapple across your skin.
Your spine arches into him.
Now you have Toji’s ravenous cock bulging into your walls- his globular tip searchin’ for every sweet spot and pinpointing them using his shape. That only elongated the sparks of your high until it felt never-ending; and dopamine washes over your body and leaves you wracking. Hands clawing down wherever you could latch onto the older man. Your knees squeezing tighter around his waist to milk him through his own euphoria. “Yes—yes, just like that.”
“Oh…oh, look at the way m’dripping out of you…” Toji’s mouth unfastens. Your cunt had already been bloated around his cock- now with his volumes of cum being webbed up inside, it was almost too much for you to handle.
And Toji’s orgasm rips through him strong—even his powerful limbs were wrapped around you as he powered through it. His thumb tremblin’ as he rolled and rolled.
He breathes out hot and heavy when those fingers of his dare to wonder…right along where a sheen was spreading along your inner-thighs. Every satiny drop of cum he was pouring out gets slid down your cervix- and then trickles deep inside of you. “So messy, this pussy o’ mine.”
“Yours?” You gasp. Though even that tiny reaction meant you feel his warm wetness splosh! inside you.
“Mhmmm—” He nods drunkenly. Left arm wrapping behind you and pulling you to him - resting you against his chest. “But don’t worry…this cock is yours, too.”
You scoff. “The audacity. Didn’t I give this cock an F?”
“Yeah, you sure did give me a fuck.”
You decide that the only way to shut up him is to overstimulate him by fuckin’ him—perhaps unfortunately for you, Fushiguro Toji seemed to have had the same idea.
“Mmm, now what about the parent-teacher meeting? We already- oh, handed out the grades, didn’t we?” He’s whispering in your ear once he’d somehow manhandled you into a doggy position. Sculpted abs pressed against your spine. Beefy arm wrapped around your throat in a headlock—
“T-to say what?” You’d wheezed out.
“That m’not done fucking this pussy pregnant.”
.
.
.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI’S (and co.) FIVE-STEP PLAN TO MATCHMAKE HIS FATHER AND HIS TEACHER—PHASE FIVE: 𝕲𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖚𝖕…
It’s so over.
Today was the day of the talent show; and Fushiguro Megumi had never felt more untalented.
And no…it wasn’t because of any of the other competition—if he had any idea how these things go, at the end they were going to say that everyone won and everyone gets a prize. This was elementary school, after all. And he was quite grown up.
Anyways—the point is his, Itadori, and Kugisaki’s magic show had been quite the hit amongst parents especially.
And that wasn’t why he was feeling untalented.
It wasn’t because Todo’s PG-censored version of a Megan Thee Stallion song had been honestly…quite good. It wasn’t because Yuta’s puppeteering act had been something that’d drawn endeared laughter from both kids and parents alike. It wasn’t even because of the act that was happening right now…where Inumaki was standing alone on center stage with a notebook opened up in his hands. The last act of the night.
The rest of the show had gone swimmingly.
Inumaki was a bit more of the quiet type, but at this moment he speaks into the mic loud and clear.
“For my talent today, I am going to read out vocabulary words taught to me by Fushiguro-san. Thank you Fushiguro-san!”
The audience coos and turns to try and find the aforementioned man.
From his position peaking-in from backstage, Megumi watches his father pale from the first row. And then sink deeper into his seat.
Deeper.
And deeper.
And deeper-
“Bud.”
Though the rest of the audience nods in sweet endearment- Toji’s damn-near jumping out of his seat in surprise. That was…clearly not what he had been expecting.
Not at all.
Inumaki continues.
“Cookie.”
And Toji has gathered enough bravery to…perhaps properly sit up in his seat. Clapping along with the other parents- looking around to make sure that he wasn’t just hearing things. And this was actually what Inumaki was reciting.
“Concussion.”
That one draws some admiring sounds. Such a big word for such a small kid—good on Fushiguro Toji, right?
He might just be safe…
“And divorce.” That one draws mixed reactions- but Inumaki closes his infamous blue notebook, and Toji lets out a sigh of relief - one that was nearly audible backstage.
Along with the rest of the parents, he can whole-heartedly start clapping now. Maybe even throw in a cheer or two.
Let the audience know that he was the mastermind behind such academic advancements. Yeah, maybe they should pay him.
But Inumaki wasn’t done yet.
“And my favorite yet—” Which one was it? Which other important vocabulary word had Toji so graciously bestowed upon this kid? Which other aspect of his life had Toji alleviated by the sharing of precious, precious knowledge? Inumaki firmly grips the mic. “Is fuc-”
Megumi leaps onto stage and snatches the microphone out of Inumaki’s hand before he can complete that specific word…
But the implication must have been evident either way, because then each set of eyes turns behind to the black-haired man. And glares. Toji flips them off. The applause is more polite than willing now. Then he decides that he’s never showing his face ‘round here again, he’s never stepping a foot through those damn multi-colored doors if it fucking kills him, he’s never—
Just then, you’re stepping onto the stage and graciously taking the mic from Megumi. He’s so back.
“Hello? Is this thing on?” You chuckle into it.
And Toji…Toji knows. He knows he wouldn’t mind being thrown a dirty look from every single person he meets- so long as you’re there to spot him out in a crowd. Tugging his son close to you—as you beckon all the other kids on-stage and start your speech.
It’s mostly thanking those that made it possible; the parents, the staff, and especially the students. Toji isn’t quite ashamed to admit that he’d been too busy drowning in your gorgeous tone to even register your words—
Expectedly, you were telling the kids that everyone won - and Principal Yaga had been called on-stage to hand out prizes to every one of the kids. And as Fushiguro Megumi holds his prize - a custom trophy with his name, a certificate, and a bunch of art supplies - he’s suddenly remembering why he’d been feeling so untalented.
It had been a week since Phase Four of the mission to get you and his father together. And it had been a few days since parent-teachers meeting and Toji had come to pick him up the next day, smiling dopily.
Megumi’s sure his father’s losing his marbles.
And he has the strange, sinking feeling that after tonight- they’d either forget about the plan or abandon it altogether. Feeling so hopeless—it’s so over.
“Hey, Fushiguro…” Itadori not-so-successfully whispers to the black-haired boy, ultimately drawing attention from whomever was around the two of you. “Fushiguro, isn’t that your dad coming up the aisle?”
“And why does he have such a big bouquet of flowers?” Kugisaki adds on.
Though…once Toji reaches the foot of the stage everything becomes very clear.
Because with a hand coming up to your mouth, and the spotlight shined on you, he lovingly hands you the plush bouquet of roses from below. Roses. Red, red roses.
With a silent thank you—you’re kissing Toji on the cheek.
Every. Single. One of their jaws drop-
Inumaki starts scribbling something down in his notebook.
Yuta sticks an approving thumbs-up.
Even some of the parents in the audience whisper to one another - most nod approvingly.
And Toji catches Megumi’s eye to wink. “We’ll talk later.” He mouths.
Megumi nods mutely- excitement thrums through him so fast that his fists clench—and Itadori has to clasp onto them. They succeeded? They really, truly succeeded?
His eyes are glimmering as he turns to Itadori and Kugisaki- both nodding excitedly in agreement. They couldn’t squeal like they wanted to right now with Yaga’s speech droning on in the background, but after…after, they had a loooot of questions for the new couple.
Together; they loop their arms together in a silent victory.
They’re so back.
Though being silent was never something for Todo Aoi.
Yelling.
“Fushiguro Toji rizzed Ms. Teacher before GTA 6—?!”
frat!gojo, who had a reputation that always clung to him like smoke—loud parties, chaos, and endless amounts of cheap alcohol with men and women practically throwing themselves at him, but none of his one night stands ever stuck around. no one ever really stayed.
frat!gojo, who was always perpetually bored of people, no one could ever really keep up with him, that was until you.
frat!gojo, who’s almost instantly enamoured by you, following you around like a lost puppy everywhere, just so you can give him even the slightest bit of attention.
frat!gojo, who almost whimpers when you roll your eyes at him, walking away as if he was never there, and he just knows he has to have you.
frat!gojo, who has your schedule memorised to the T (he found it while stalking your socials), waiting outside your classes every single day, with his tuft of white hair sticking out in the crowd, while following you around immediately while carrying your fat stack and books and your bag while you walk around campus.
frat!gojo, who’s always bored out of his mind when you aren’t in class with him—always pestering poor nanami because you aren’t around to slap some sense into him and tell him to focus.
frat!gojo, who’s almost afraid of how smart you are, his cock straining nearly painfully against his pants when you ramble on about the kreb’s cycle and whatnot, and all he can think about is what it’d be like to be quizzed from between your thighs instead.
frat!gojo, who’s had numerous filthy dreams about you, with you tying him down, walking all over him in your pretty boots, fisting his hair with your pretty hands—and he wakes up, his cock throbbing in his sweats, leaking beads of pre, he feels like an idiot while he wraps his hands around his dick.
frat!gojo, who muffles his moans into his pillows, cumming onto his pretty abs, all while gasping your name in between breaths. he know’s you’d kill him if you found out about the dirty little fantasies he’s had of you—but the very thought of you reprimanding him has him twitching, flushed against his abdomen all over again.
frat!gojo, who has a picture of you in his wallet, it’s a candid from when you were tutoring him, your lips in a focused pout while you were trying to explain your notes, and gods he just never got over how pretty you looked while being completely engrossed in the stupid text that sat in front of you.
frat!gojo, who knows he’s down bad but he just couldn’t care less. so, if you see satoru gojo being yelled at by a pretty nerd, do NOT come save him. he is exactly where he wants to be.
this is a reupload.
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
.A person with a compassionate and tender heart, dreaming of a better tomorrow. Imagine waking up to find yourself surrounded by ruins ,everything you once knew, gone. This is my reality and the reality of my family. The war has shattered our home, our dreams, and our hopes for the future. I’m not asking for much , only for a chance to rebuild my life, to travel, to start again, and to restore the home that once brought us warmth and safety. Your sup-port, even the smallest contribution, can he-lp me take the first step, toward a new beginning toward a life filled with hope instead of despair. He-lp me rebuild, travel, and bring life back to my home.
I’m going through unimaginable pain, and you might be my only hope to survive. Your kindness could be the difference between despair and safety. Please, show mercy. every don-ati-on helps. Your support can save a life.
summary ── After breaking up with your toxic ex, Ryomen Sukuna, you discover your tear-soaked voicemail has been sampled into his latest SoundCloud track.
tags / warnings: soundcloud rapper!sukuna, unserious all around, he vapes, weed, nsfw, eventual smut, tension, humiliation, cheating (kinda?)
masterlist
꒰ SUKUNA is your slightly evil ex, no─ scratch that, your very evil ex. You always knew he had sadistic tendencies, and you certainly knew he could be cruel, you just never imagined you’d be on the receiving end of it.
꒰ SUKUNA had promised you it would be a chill night with the boys, head tipping back smirking at your disappointed frown. Now, by no means were you a complete idiot but you both had recently mended things and rekindled your relationship, so now you had no choice to trust him. He leaned over, biceps flexing as he places his large hands on your plush hips, brushing slow circles over the curves of them, “Don’t you trust me baby?” Fuck no you don’t, but you let him go anyway.
꒰ SUKUNA makes you regret the decision right away when you see him in a club grinding on a random girl, yeah so much for a chill guys night. Storming over to him, you push drunken bodies out the way and grab a handful of his wife-eater tank top. Your red eyed boyfriend immediately stills, and doesn’t say anything at first, just drags his gaze up to you in quick regret. You don’t even have words to describe your anger, holding your breath until it's caught in your throat, you can’t even bear looking at him and you quickly move to turn away. Sukuna's eyes are blown wide as he scrambles after you, grabbing your wrist with his free hand “Wait─ baby wait! It's not what it looks like” he almost trips over his own feet “I don’t even know who this girl is! I mean, she just came up to me, you gotta believe me sweetheart.”
꒰ SUKUNA breaks your heart for what─ the millionth time? Though, you suppose it doesn’t come as a large surprise. You feel like a fool for trusting him again, relying on him, fuck, even supporting his shitty rapping career─ which was absolutely going nowhere. So, is it really your fault when you send a messy voicemail to him at three in the morning?
“I f-fucking hate you! You… you lying piece of c-cheating shit, you good for nothing asshole.”
꒰ SUKUNA is a bastard, you established that, but you’d never imagined he was a complete idiot as well. Imagine the surprise you feel when you get a text from your best friend a week later, asking if you were aware that your teary-eyed voice note had made it into his latest soundcloud track. At first, you laugh out of pure disbelief, this had to be a joke right? Pressing the link, you start to listen and hear your own voice, trembling, desperate and aching “Ryo… I h-hate you…”. There's no way. Your laughter immediately dies, and heat crawls up your neck, full of embarrassment.
꒰ SUKUNA wanted you to hear it, he didn’t want you to move on, oh and you heard it alright. Spiralling further, you opened the comment section, scanning the comments.
Catchfeels_Toji: This is heattt you making it out 🔥🔥
NaoyaTypeBeat: Powerful ❤️
notGojofr: stop making music bro
“The fuck?”
꒰ SUKUNA is gonna get exactly what he wants─ a reaction, and if you’re being completely honest you don’t care anymore. Turning down the dim hallway of his apartment, you take in the foul scent of weed that clings to the air, intense and suffocating. Stepping towards his door, your head pounds with anger, you stop right in front of it. Before even considering walking away, you clench your fists tightly and you knock, hard. No answer, great. Sukuna is making you wait, hes fucking messing with you. You, on the other hand, do not feel like waiting or messing around. Taking in a deep breath, your hand tightens around the door handle and twists it open, pushing the door open.
꒰ SUKUNA lays there, head tipped back and legs spread out on the couch, wearing a tight shirt that clings to his muscles and grey sweatpants that hung suspiciously low. He smirks when he sees you enter his apartment, looking so frustratedly hot, subconsciously flexing his bicep he places his arm behind his head─ teasing you. Shaking your head you move closer to him, hands resentfully running through your hair, and his eyes follow the motion, trailing down your jaw to your neck, taking in the rise of your shirt and the bare skin beneath it.
꒰ SUKUNA speaks before you can even get a word in─ “Missed me?” he grumbles, bringing his sour raspberry vape up to his lips, taking a deep drag. His smirk grows wider when he sees your frown worsen, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you ask, shaking your head when you find your eyes tracing over his tattoos. His brow quirks, gaze questioning but teasing. He sits up, leaning forward the cushions dip as he moves. Forearms resting on his thighs, he spreads his legs wide and shoulders rolled back. He tilts his head up, eyes locking with yours, he stares at you through his half lidded eyes, amused and territorial. “Hm? Why’re ya so upset, baby?”
꒰ SUKUNA is an infuriating man. Tilting your head, you step back, crossing your arms in hopes that it would shield you from his arrogance. “You’re actually unbelievable, S’kuna.” you mutter, soundingly utterly defeated. His ears perk up hearing you call him by his last name, his jaw tenses, studying you beneath his heavy lidded eyes. “That so?” Sukuna clicks his tongue, despite his cool demeanour he grows impatient, feeling the need to be closer to your body.
꒰ SUKUNA gets off on humiliating you, you’re sure of it. Attempting to cross the room, your steps falter as you feel strong arms wrap around your waist, the sudden weight feeling heavy on your body. Caressing your hips, something darker flickers in his eyes, “You came all this way just to call me that?” He asks, pupils dilating he continues, “I don’t think so.” You try to snap back at him, but instead you feel your weight being pulled down onto his lap, his palms tightening around your waist. He wets his lips, his hand leaves your hip for a second─ and you find your breath hitching when it finds your bare thigh, drawing circles around it.
꒰ SUKUNA bites his lip hearing the stutter in your breath, hand twitching as he brings it closer to the hem of your shorts. “You hated me right….” he mumbles, the soft pads of his fingers trailing against your skin, slowly tracing your thigh. You try to show some restraint, but you’re so fucking turned on, subtly you rock your hips, feeling his boner grow beneath you. Sukuna’s eyes drop from your pretty face down to the way you rock your hips into him, and squeezes your thigh─ harshly. “C’mon baby.. Show me just how much ya hate me, yeah?”
꒰ SUKUNA grins, rolling his hips into you, causing you to let out a whimper, eyes fluttering shut. He continues to roll his hips slowly, grabbing your waist, feeling your hot body against him. He coos at you when you look up at him with glossy eyes, practically begging for more. “D’ya want me to put it in?” he asks teasingly, yet he is completely blindsighted when you kiss him. You’re not gentle, kissing him with pure hunger, fingers curling around the collar of his wife beater, pulling him in deeper.
꒰ SUKUNA groans into your mouth and grabs your hips, pushing them off to remove your shorts and panties, earning another whimper from you. Pulling his sweatpants and boxers down, his cock springs out and your breath hitches in your throat. He palms his cock, aligning it with your soaked pussy and you sink down on it, your cheeks flush and heart hammers fast. Trying to catch your breath, your lips part “R-ryo…” you murmur, eyes growing heavy as he thrusts up into you, letting out a sharp hiss, “F-fuck─ I missed you calling me that”.
꒰ SUKUNA holds your hips in place as you ride him, his groggy voice throwing praises while rutting into you from below─ “You’re so good baby,” he grumbles. Hearing your sweet moans his cock twitches, and he grabs your waist, slamming you down hard, feeling his tip crease your cervix. Your chest heaves, and your whole body pulses in shock from him thrusting up into you. It’s rough, and fast, it feels like Sukuna is trying to push you past your limit, and you surrender yourself to him entirely.
꒰ SUKUNA cums inside of you, hips unrelenting as he stuffs you full. His cock is shoved so deep inside you that you whimper, the coil in your stomach coming undone as you cum as well, your nails digging deep into his shoulder. “Fuuuck” he groans, breathing heavily he lazily grins at you, and pulls your thighs apart further, admiring the sight.
꒰ SUKUNA doesn’t pull you off him, but he shifts beneath you. Leaning back into the couch slowly, one arm stretches along the backrest, the other one lazily resting low on your stomach, warm and teasing, thumb brushing idly. He glances at you, canines peeking, he smirks, “So, ya still mad at me, sweetheart?”
hope u enjoyeddd
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requests are open so feel free to DM!
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art by: @/winterrbluess
divider by: @/cursed-carmine
i tried explaining to this girl at a party once how i could be gay and asexual at the same time and it basically boils down to never being into anyone but like once a year i’ll find a man attractive. and she was like “so what am i if i only like girls, and i’ve never found any of my boyfriends attractive and and i just wanna do cocaine all the time?” i was like “you’re a lesbian with a coke addiction?” and she was like “woooooah”. she broke up with her boyfriend that night and had a threesome with two girls in the bathtub. rebecca if you’re out there, i hope you’re going places. well, not far, since you’re electronically tagged. but spiritually.
︵ ೀ mdni. you and shoko always casually made out at parties but that stopped after she started dating suguru, until one night she invites you to join them and you end up as their plaything ( threesome / being used by them )
the parties were always the same.
loud music, dim lights, too much alcohol, and the two of you ending up in some dark corner like it was inevitable. it started with teasing, a smirk from shoko, then her pulling you close by the waist. your lips would crash together—messy, hungry, tasting like cheap vodka and cigarettes.
her hands always found their way under your shirt, fumbling with the clasp of your bra while you gasped into her mouth. she’d squeeze your tits roughly, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they hardened under her touch. you’d moan softly, pressing closer, grinding against her thigh just a little, but it never went further than that.
clothes stayed mostly on. hands wandered, but never below the waist. it was always rushed, sloppy, and over too fast—someone would call shoko’s name or the music would change and you’d both pull away laughing, lips swollen, cheeks flushed.
“just messing around,” shoko would say with that lazy smile, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. but for you… it was never just messing around.
every time her fingers slipped under your bra and pinched your nipple, you ached for more. every time she sucked on your tongue and squeezed your tits like she owned them, you wished she would push you against the wall and actually fuck you. you wanted her hands between your legs, wanted her mouth on your skin, wanted her to take you somewhere private and make you hers for real.
but you never said it. you swallowed it down, smiled like it was nothing, and told yourself it was just fun.
until it wasn’t anymore. because shoko started dating suguru.
it made perfect sense. they looked so good together—the two college heartthrobs. shoko with her effortless cool, cigarette dangling from her lips, pretty eyes and that lazy smile. suguru with his long dark hair, calm confidence, and that beauty that made people stare.
they fit. they looked like they belonged on magazine covers, like the kind of couple everyone secretly envied. when they walked into a room together, heads turned.
and now the corner makeouts stopped completely. now she sits in his lap at parties, kissing him slow and deep while his hands rest on her hips. you watch from the side, nursing your drink, trying to ignore the sharp twist in your chest every time she moans softly against his mouth.
you told yourself it didn’t bother you. you smiled when they told you they were official. you even teased them about how disgustingly cute they looked together.
but tonight, the jealousy feels like a live wire under your skin.
you’re all back at suguru’s apartment after another loud night out. the lights are low, music still playing softly from someone’s phone. you’re sitting on the couch with too sugary drink in your hand, watching them.
shoko is straddling suguru’s lap, kissing him slow and deep, the kind of kiss that makes everything else disappear. her fingers are tangled in his long dark hair, hips rolling slowly against him as their tongues slide together wetly. every soft sound she makes hits you like a punch.
you look away, cheeks burning, but your eyes keep drifting back. you remember how her hands felt on your chest, how she used to pinch and knead your tits until you were panting. but now those hands are on him.
shoko eventually pulls back for air, lips shiny and swollen. her eyes find you across the couch and she tilts her head, studying your face.
“you’ve been quiet,” she says. “jealous?”
you shrug, trying to play it cool. “no, i’m not jealous.”
shoko lets out a soft laugh. she leans back against suguru’s chest, still straddling him, and looks at you with that familiar lazy smirk.
“liar. i know you.”
before you can protest, she slides off suguru’s lap and crawls over to you on the couch. her hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip. without another word, she leans in and kisses you.
it’s slow at first, almost teasing, her lips soft and warm against yours. then she deepens it, tongue slipping into your mouth like she’s reminding you exactly what you’ve been missing. you can’t help the small sound that escapes you when she sucks lightly on your tongue.
when she finally pulls back just enough to speak, her breath fans over your wet lips.
“you missed it, didn’t you?” she murmurs. her fingers slide into your hair, tugging gently. “missed the way i kiss you.” she nips at your bottom lip. “my hands on you… the way we used to mess around at parties?
you feel your face heat up, embarrassment and want mixing together. shoko smiles against your mouth, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. suguru watches the two of you from the other side of the couch, a small amused smile playing on his lips.
“it’s okay,” she whispers, kissing you again, slower this time. “you don’t have to lie to me, baby.”
the kiss quickly turns deeper. shoko’s tongue slides against yours, while her hand slips under your shirt, palm warm against your stomach, and you shiver. she smiles into the kiss when she feels it.
without breaking away, shoko reaches for the hem of her own shirt and tugs it off. her bra is simple and black, but it looks perfect on her. she tosses the shirt aside and immediately returns to your mouth, kissing you harder now, more eager.
“your turn,” she murmurs against your lips.
her fingers are gentle but sure as she pulls your shirt up and over your head. the cool air hits your skin, making you feel exposed, but shoko doesn’t let you dwell on it. she kisses you again, deeper, while her hands roam over your bare waist and up to your chest. she squeezes your breasts through your bra, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they harden.
“so pretty,” she breathes. “always so pretty for me.”
you’re both breathing heavier when shoko pulls back just enough to look at suguru.
“she can join, right?” she asks, voice husky but soft.
suguru’s eyes go dark and he nods once. “yeah. come here.”
shoko grins and takes your hand, guiding you both toward him. suguru shifts on the couch, spreading his legs wider so there’s room. he pulls shoko onto his lap first, then gently tugs you until you’re straddling one of his thighs, facing shoko.
now you’re both on suguru’s lap—chest to chest, knees bracketing his thick thighs. shoko doesn’t waste time. she cups your face and kisses you again. your breasts press together, only thin fabric separating you. you can feel the heat of suguru’s body beside you, his hands resting lightly on both your waists.
suguru’s his gaze is heavy as shoko’s tongue slides into your mouth and you moan softly. then his hands start moving—one palm strokes up shoko’s back while the other caresses your side, thumb brushing just under your breast.
shoko breaks the kiss only to trail her lips along your jaw, then down to your neck. you tilt your head, gasping when she sucks lightly on your neck. suguru’s hand slides higher, finally cupping your breast from behind, squeezing gently while shoko kisses lower.
“look at you two,” suguru murmurs. “so fucking pretty together.”
his other hand rests on shoko’s hip, encouraging her as she rocks against his thigh. you’re both breathing hard, lips swollen, skin flushed. shoko pulls you back into another deep kiss, tongues tangling messily while suguru’s hands explore—one kneading your breast, the other sliding down shoko’s spine.
you feel surrounded. wanted. the jealousy from earlier slowly melts into something hotter, sweeter.
shoko smiles against your mouth and whispers, “missed you so much, baby.”
while you’re still lost in shoko’s kiss, suguru leans closer. his lips find the side of your neck. he presses open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, tongue tracing lightly as he sucks gentle marks. you whimper into shoko’s mouth, their caresses making your head spin.
suguru kisses down your shoulder, then hooks his fingers into the front of your bra and tugs it down, freeing your breasts. before you can even gasp, his hot mouth closes around your nipple.
you moan loudly, back arching instinctively. suguru sucks gently at first, then harder, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. the wet heat of his mouth combined with the slight scrape of his teeth makes your thighs shake.
shoko finally pulls back from the kiss just enough to look down between you. her eyes darken when she sees suguru’s mouth on your tit.
“fuck, that’s hot,” she breathes.
shoko watches the whole thing with dark, hooded eyes. she slides one hand down your stomach, fingers teasing the waistband of your pants. “can i touch you here?” she asks and when you nod desperately, she doesn’t hesitate.
shoko slips her hand inside your pants. her fingers immediately find how wet you already are, and she lets out a satisfied sound. “fuck… you’re so wet,” she says. “all this just for us?”
her middle finger drags slowly through your folds, gathering wetness before circling your clit with light, teasing strokes. when you twitch against her she kisses you again. shoko smiles against your lips. “so sensitive tonight.”
after a moment, shoko slides one finger lower and pushes it inside you, curling it slowly. you clench around her instantly, hips twitching forward into her hand. she adds a second finger, thrusting them in and out at a steady pace while her thumb keeps rubbing your clit.
“that’s it,” she whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth. “ride my fingers, baby. let us hear how good it feels.” shoko’s pace quickens slightly, fingers curling perfectly against that spot inside you with every thrust while she kisses you again and again, swallowing your moans.
at some point the night blurred into a haze of pleasure. you’re still on suguru’s lap, back pressed to his chest, completely drunk on them both. shoko’s fingers have been inside you for what feels like hours—curling, thrusting, rubbing your clit until you’re shaking and sobbing through another orgasm. every time you think you can’t take any more, suguru’s big hand wraps loosely around your throat, holding you in place while shoko pushes you over the edge again.
you’re their perfect little plaything tonight, and you’ve stopped pretending you want anything else.
when shoko finally pulls her fingers out, you whine at the loss, body twitching. she just smiles and brings her slick fingers to her own mouth to taste you. “she’s ready,” shoko says softly as she looks at suguru.
suguru doesn’t need to be told twice. he shifts you forward on the couch so you’re on your hands and knees, still facing shoko. his large hands grip your hips, pulling your ass back toward him. you hear the sound of his belt and zipper, then feel the blunt, fat head of his cock pressing against your soaked entrance.
shoko watches with amusement, kneeling in front of you on the couch. she takes both of your hands in hers, lacing your fingers together tightly.
“breathe, baby,” she murmurs, thumbs stroking the back of your hands. “let him in.”
suguru pushes forward and the stretch is immediate and intense. his cock is thick—much thicker than shoko’s fingers—and you feel every inch as he slowly sinks into you from behind. your mouth falls open, eyes wide as the burn blooms deep inside you. he’s so big it almost hurts, but the pleasure is hotter.
“fuck… so tight,” suguru groans lowly, voice strained as he bottoms out, hips flush against your ass.
shoko’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the way your face twists. she leans in and kisses your open mouth, swallowing the moan that finally escapes you.
“look at you,” she coos against your lips, still holding your hands. “taking his cock so well. your pretty little mouth falling open like that… so cute.”
suguru starts moving—slow, deep thrusts that rock your entire body forward with every snap of his hips. every time he drives back in, your tits bounce and your breath catches. shoko stays right there, holding both your hands firmly so you have something to anchor yourself to while suguru fucks you from behind.
“that’s it,” shoko whispers, eyes locked on your face. “let him fuck you. rock forward for me, baby… just like that.”
you do exactly what she says, pushing back to meet suguru’s thrusts and rocking forward into shoko’s space with every movement. she keeps watching, mesmerized, occasionally leaning in to kiss you while suguru’s pace gradually turns harder, deeper.
the wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with your moans and suguru’s grunts. shoko never lets go of your hands, squeezing them tighter every time suguru hits that perfect spot inside you and makes your eyes roll back.
“good girl,” suguru growls from behind, one hand sliding up to grip your hair gently. “taking me so fucking well.”
shoko laughs softly, pressing another kiss to your parted lips. “keep moaning like that,” she teases. “i could watch you get fucked by him all night.”
after a while, suguru slows his thrusts and pulls out with a wet sound. you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he’s already manhandling you gently, turning you around to face him. “come here.” he sits back on the couch and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him, chest to chest. “ride me.”
you’re so drunk on pleasure that you barely register how quickly you obey. your hands brace on his broad shoulders as you sink down onto his thick cock again. the stretch is still intense, but your body is so wet and used that he slides in easier this time.
shoko settles on one of suguru’s thick thighs so she’s pressed flush against your back. her bare breasts are hot against your skin, nipples hard as they brush along your spine. one of her arms wraps around your waist while her other hand slides down between your bodies.
“keep riding him, baby,” she whispers right against your ear. “let me feel you.”
you start moving—slow, shaky rolls of your hips as you ride suguru’s cock. every time you sink down, he groans deeply, hands gripping your thighs to help guide you. shoko’s fingers find your clit from behind, rubbing slick circles while she grinds herself against suguru’s thigh, her soaked pussy sliding wetly over his skin.
shoko’s warm breasts press tighter against your back with every roll of her hips. her breath is hot on your neck as she kisses and bites gently along your shoulder. her fingers never stop teasing your clit, occasionally dipping lower to feel where suguru’s thick cock stretches you open.
you’re completely drunk on them. your mind has gone hazy, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as soft, helpless moans keep falling from your mouth. you barely register anything except the heat, the stretch, and the constant pleasure.
“so good,” suguru groans. his hands squeeze your hips, helping you bounce on him harder. “look at you… taking my cock so deep.”
shoko hums in agreement, pressing her chest firmer against your back as she grinds faster on his thigh. her fingers move quicker on your clit, slick sounds filling the air.
“she’s so out of it,” shoko laughs softly, kissing the back of your neck. “completely drunk on us. aren’t you, baby? just letting us use this pretty body however we like.”
you can only whimper in response, head falling back against shoko’s shoulder as you keep riding suguru.
“tell us how you like it, baby,” suguru says. “you want it deeper? faster?”
shoko leans in closer, lips brushing your ear from behind. “yeah… use your words,” she teases softly. “tell us what feels good. you want me to keep playing with your pretty clit while you ride his cock?”
you try to answer.
your mouth opens, but only a soft, hazy whimper comes out. your mind is too foggy, body too overwhelmed with pleasure. every nerve is sparking, your thoughts melted into nothing but heat and the feeling of being used so perfectly between them. you can barely form a single coherent word.
“i… ah— i…” is all you manage.
shoko lets out a quiet, fond laugh against your neck. “aww, listen to her,” she coos, clearly amused by how gone you are. “can’t even speak anymore. so cute.”
she slides her free hand up to cup your jaw, gently turning your face toward her. she kisses you again. her tongue slips into your mouth, tasting every helpless little sound you make while suguru keeps rocking you steadily on his cock.
“it’s okay, baby,” she whispers, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “you don’t have to say anything. we already know exactly what you need.”
suguru leans forward to kiss your collarbone, then looks up at shoko with dark eyes. “she’s clenching so hard around me. keep touching her. i want to feel her cum on my cock.”
shoko smiles against your skin and circles your clit faster. “don’t worry,” she purrs, voice dripping with heat. “we’re nowhere near done with her yet.”
sometime later, you’re completely spent.
your body has gone limp, limbs heavy and trembling from the endless waves of pleasure. you’ve lost count of how many times they made you cum—on suguru’s cock, on shoko’s fingers, between their mouths and hands. every inch of you feels used, warm, and satisfied in the best kind of way.
you barely have the strength to keep your eyes open anymore.
shoko notices first. she presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, brushing damp strands of hair away from your face. “you’re done, huh?” she whispers fondly, voice still a little breathless. “poor baby… we wore you out.”
you manage a tiny, hazy nod, eyes already fluttering shut. the last thing you feel is shoko carefully pulling you down onto the couch, laying you on your side so you’re comfortable. she tucks a blanket over your naked body.
“sleep. we’ve got you.”
your eyelids grow heavier. the world starts to fade. through the sleepy haze, you catch the soft sounds beside you.
shoko lets out a quiet moan as suguru pulls her closer. you barely manage to crack your eyes open just enough to see them. suguru has shoko on her back right next to you, his large body covering hers. he’s kissing her deeply, while he pushes inside her.
shoko’s back arches, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wraps her legs around his waist. “suguru…”
he groans low in his throat, hips starting to move in deep, steady strokes. the wet sound of skin meeting skin fills the quiet room again. suguru’s hand slides up to cup shoko’s breast, thumb brushing over her nipple as he fucks her right there beside you.
shoko turns her head slightly, eyes half-lidded, and looks at your sleepy face. even as suguru thrusts into her, she reaches out and gently laces her fingers with yours, holding your hand while she gets fucked.
“goodnight, baby,” she whispers to you, voice sweet even as it breaks into a moan.
you can’t answer anymore. your eyes finally slip shut completely, the last image burned gently into your mind: suguru’s broad back moving over shoko, her hand warm in yours, the quiet sounds of them making love right beside you.
it feels strangely comforting.
you fall asleep like that—exhausted, satisfied, and wrapped in the soft afterglow of being theirs, even if only for tonight. the steady rhythm of suguru’s hips and shoko’s breathy moans lull you deeper into sleep, their presence safe beside you.
Synopsis. Five times that Ryomen Sukuna - most desired man on campus, frat boy extraordinaire, your longtime FWB - would rather sIeep with you than tell you how he feels. And the one time he finally, finally does both.
Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, frat boy!FWB!Sukuna, 5 + 1 things, FWB-to-Iovers, accidentally falling for your FWB, no strings attached, slightly toxic, pIayer!Sukuna, Kuna’s MEAN, denial, distractions, emotionaIIy stunted Kuna, jealousy, hurt + comfort, YEARNING, Choso cameo, Sukuna with tattoos, college wrestler!Sukuna, manhandIing, oraI (fem. rec), p talking, p sIapping, spítting, pússydrúnk Sukuna, spelling, overstím, HEADLOCKS, rough s, tummy buIges, talking you through it, running from it, chokíng, DÚMBlFlCATION, dirty taIk, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight bréeding, confessions, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 16.9k
A/N. Officially my longest fic hehehe- inspired by all the frat!Kuna edits I’ve been seeing on my FYP, bIess all editors.
“You’re obsessed with me.”
Sukuna grins. “Other way ‘round, mama.” He takes his long, languid time swirling around the liquid in his red Solo cup. It was some cheap bottle their new pledges had snagged, and it burned down his throat.
The aftermath was in the way the man stumbles just a little closer towards you. He catches himself with a tattooed hand pressed on the wall above your head. Abs against your core. Caging you. “Other. Way. ‘Round.”
You’re jutting your chin up in challenge, “It isn’t.”
He hums, “Isn’t it?”
“And what makes you so sure of yourself, Ryo?”
He shivers at the sound of your pretty voice. He could almost taste the cherry punch in it, and something about that made him tighten in his pants…“Maybe it’s the drinks talking, but I just know.” Sukuna leans in so close that there was barely a centimeter between you both, between your lips. “And I also know you want me, girlie. Bad.”
Even with your highest heels on, the pink-haired leader of Curses Epsilon (Curses ε, the most sought-after fraternity on campus) seemed to loom above you. Crimson eyes narrowed. Smile predatory. Signature black t-shirt tight.
He always had caught your eye, you had to admit.
C’mon, it was impossible for him not to: a few heads taller than most of the student body, more sculptured, more attractive. You’d heard a rumor that he did modelling down in Shibuya sometimes and you didn’t doubt it. He walked around this very university like he owned it. He probably did.
Sukuna pushes back his cotton-candy locks, and you’re seeing the roots of reddish brown where his undercut was.
The shade was so at odds with the utterly devilish look those tattoos gave him. Even now you could see the ink peaking out at his wrists, his collarbones, his nose bridge. They snaked all over his body. Sensual. And when he slowly dips his head down to kiss the underside of your jaw, you start to wonder just how far those patterns went…
“Oh.” You gasp, grabbing onto his well-built shoulders.
They flex through his thin t-shirt when he’s leaning even closer, and you’re suddenly remembering that he was here on a scholarship for wrestling. The infamous leader of his weight class on your university team. The King of the Court. At least that explained his irresistible build - you wonder whether he was a semi heavyweight? A heavyweight? Did they even have those?
You couldn’t think.
You’re tipping your neck further to the side, and from the edges of your peripheral vision you see the way that Sukuna raises one pink brow- before draaaaagging a line of soft kisses down the side of your throat. Filthy. Fleeting.
You’ve seen that look on him before - it’s the one he’d shoot at admirers that dared to stare too long. That sort of ‘if you want it come and get it’ look. That sort of challenge. Prowling through campus corridors that seemed to shrink whenever his figure waded through, sports bag slung over his shoulder, hair still wet from his shower, you could expect the sports superstar to throw at least ten at a time.
Though you couldn’t really blame them! You suspected that about half the student body - and perhaps even some professors - held a burning fire for Ryomen Sukuna, and the other half simply wouldn’t admit to it.
And just as long as his list of admirers was his roster.
Or so the whispers claimed…‘His latest catch is actually the mother of-’ ‘They say he has five girls at once and they know about it but stay-’ ‘He swings both ways so what I’d give for a chance-’ ‘His longest relationship was two days and that’s because they begged him-’ ‘Stay away.’ ‘Stay away.’ ‘Stay away.’
Stay away.
You didn’t have to be told that to know.
It was an unspoken rule on campus, the lay of the land.
Quite the dichotomy, wasn’t it? Stay away from Ryomen Sukuna, unless he’s the one that approaches you first and then it’ll be like your wildest fever dream, your wettest, and when he finally leaves- well, weren’t you told to stay away?
That’s the way things were. And all any heartbroken ex-companion would get is a few soothing words by the very same people who would turn around and make an example out of you.
‘Didn’t you see what happened to so and so…? Stay away.’
He was like a guilty pleasure that most people knew better of, knew would become an addiction. However, still indulged in anyway.
And so here you were. Cooped up in some dimly-lit frat party, cramped until every breath felt like it was singed with the copious amounts of alcohol around you, surrounded by booming beats and bellowing boys. In nothing but the most sinful dress you’d stowed away for a night just like this. Though you had to give yourself some credit- you didn’t wear this just for Sukuna, that’d only happened to be a happy accident!
In fact, you hadn’t even been expecting to meet him here.
Sure, it was the fraternity that he was the leader of, but Sukuna was always quite the…busy man. To put it lightly.
No—when your friends had urged you into this very party, you’d worn it with the thought of another man in mind. None other than your two-timing, two-toned, two-inched ex Zenin Naoya.
Your relationship was never meant for a happy marriage with two kids and a house that had a picket fence, but the straw that surely broke the camel’s back was about a week ago when you’d sneakily scrolled through his social media likes. And say whatever you want about privacy, but the multiple other girls he was entertaining and the deplorable podcasts about women he’d been secretly listening to let you say whatever you wanted.
And your first words to Naoya afterwards had been that you wanted to break up. Your second had been cussing him out.
Which was why, when Utahime had told you that he’d be attending (likely to try and pick up another poor girl), you’d immediately rifled through your closet for this skimpy dress you knew he’d hate. And still jerk off to later.
Speaking of…how ironic was it that you’d run from one red flag and straight into the arms of another.
The thought mulls lazily in your brain, before it’s quickly overtaken by the feeling of Sukuna resting his hands just over the small of your back. Something stirs carnally at the pit of your stomach, and you don’t think you’ve felt this way for a long time - not even when you were still with your ex.
“Prove it.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.
He stops, raising those brows of his again.
And you don’t hesitate a single second before looping both arms around Sukuna’s neck and bringing him closer to you. And the hulking man lets you manhandle him as you please, lets your lips whisper just a breath’s distance away from his. In the distance you think you can hear a few gasps, feel a few stares. “Prove that I want you. Badly.”
And Ryomen Sukuna’s realizing that he didn’t need the alcohol, not really.
Not when he was already drunk on you.
His lips are on yours before you can say anything else.
Your first time meeting Ryomen Sukuna ended up with you pushed into the bedroom at his frat house and holding onto the headboard so that it won’t break against the wall. Bang-bang-bang. He’d lifted your trembling hands off of them, eventually, and placed them between your legs to roll over your clit. You don’t think he cared for a single sultry moment if any of his frat brothers happened to hear.
In fact, with the way that he’d been plunging his massive girth between your legs (the rumors really hadn’t exaggerated!) you’d almost wondered if he wanted them to hear. You wouldn’t be surprised.
Sukuna fucked hard, fast.
He made you stupid on his cock and chased his high like an absolute madman- though, that’s not to say he was a selfish lover. No—perhaps for his own ego, you were made to cum at least thrice on his fat, throbbing length.
And after the deed was done he’d rolled over to the side of the bed and tugged off the sticky condom. Discarding of it into the nearby trashcan, Sukuna rifled through his bedside cabinet for some wet wipes.
Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t the type of after-sex cuddles and aftercare, you’d come to learn. As he’d handed them over to you gruffly, and flicked at his lighter to burn up a cigarette.
Taking a deeeep drag of it, he turns towards you and brings his lips so close that you think he might just kiss you—only to puff out a smoky cloud in your face. “Inhale.” You do as he says, and let the fumes burn your throat. The side of his lips were quirking up in a smirk, “Mmm, good.” Sukuna gestures at his walk-in closet, one that you’d been eyeing for the sheer luxury of it when you’d first entered. “Might wanna find a t-shirt in there, your dress is a little…”
You looked at the sad heap of silky fabric on the carpet - torn now. “And whose fault is that?”
“Heh, just go get yourself a t-shirt, girlie.” Sukuna sits back on the headboard, and you’re appreciatively eyeing his half-naked figure. Prominent pecs. Ladder-like abs. Tattoos that stand out against his golden, tannish skin. He’d tugged on a pair of black boxers by now that did nothing to hide the happy trail of dark pink hair that you had your nose pressed up to minute ago. “Or don’t.” He looks at you with a sleazy smile- shit, he’d caught you staring. “I don’t mind.”
“S-sure ya don’t.” You’re managing out, tight.
And almost robotically, you manage to pull yourself onto your wobbly legs and take one step—Sukuna chuckles to himself as you stumble.
With a glare thrown over your shoulder, you walk into his closet. About as large as your entire dorm. Rows upon rows. Shelves upon shelves. Clothes upon designer clothes that made you wonder just how loaded a future professional wrestler is.
There were brands on his shelves that you couldn’t even recognize but knew were high-end simply from looking at their logo. Gawking, you flip past a few hangers - Versace, Burberry, Burberry, Gucci, Loro Piana, Dior, Dior, Dior, Dior-
Eventually, you simply give up to snatch the (hopefully) least expensive thing you could find: a wrestling hoodie with colorful logos on its front and ‘Sukuna’ emblazoned across the back.
The fabric was oh-so-soft in your hands, made of pure cotton that tempted you to tug it on your body as soon as possible. Oh, you’re marveling at the way the ending hem of it reaches well past your torso, engulfing you like some sort of blanket. Experimentally, you’re pulling the hoodie flap over your head and giggling at the way it droops down all the way to your nose. Unable to help yourself, you tug the sleeves up to where your wrists were and press the pink fabric to your nose.
Strawberries.
What a smell for such a guy.
“Fuck-” You’re whispering into the fabric, slightly muffled. The rush you were feeling gets dampened down a bit as you remember where you are, “I’m getting way too ahead of myself.”
When you’re finally walking out of the closet, Sukuna was lounging on his king-sized bed and scrolling through his phone. You take a moment to admire him like this- his long limbs stretched across the mattress, hair still sex-ruffled, your nail marks prominent down his shoulders, hands hugging a pillow to his chest.
He looked as if he was carved by the heavens themselves. Though he fucked like the devil.
He’s flicking his eyes casually your way, eyebrows slightly raising as he takes in your attire. “Nice choice.” Sukuna hums, voice deep with sex. “Didn’t think ya had it in you.”
And then he’s patting the empty side of the bed once more.
More, his eyes said. He wants you even more.
You almost instinctively take a step forwards before-
“Actually-” You start, fighting to keep your words steady. You keep yourself rooted in front of his closet and fidget with your fingers. “Before we do anything more, I wanted to make some things clear.”
“Mn.” He’s turning his phone off with a slight sigh, placing his hand atop his head.
Sukuna says nothing more, and you take it as a signal for you to continue. Taking a deep inhale, “I don’t really do this one-night stand thing often- not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Heartbeat quickening at the way his lazy smile grows, you don’t know why he made you feel the need to explain yourself. “But since we’re-”
“And who says we’re a one-night stand?”
Your heart does something funny with its tempo, “Wh-what?”
He tilts his head as if analyzing you, almost feline with his movement. Sukuna’s pinkish tongue darts out to wet his lips, still sweet with the taste of your pussy. “What if I want two nights? Three? Four? What’re you gonna do then, girlie?”
“Th-then-” You’re clenching your fists—fuck, it made it so hard when he was looking at you like that. “Then you’d have to get tested.”
And that…seems to make him pause.
“What?”
“Then you’d have to get tested, duh.” You’re crossing your arms in front of your chest - oh, it was quite amusing to watch the Ryomen Sukuna scramble for words. And you can’t help the spike of satisfaction, as he so-very-obviously didn’t expect that. “And we’d have to set boundaries. And share schedules. And you’d have to tell me if you meet up with another one of your ‘friends’ so that we can get tested again.”
“…”
“…”
Without warning, he bursts out laughing. “Thorough, aren’t ya?”
He wipes away a tear of mirth from the right side of his face and- c’mon! You honestly didn’t think it was that funny! Sure, you hadn’t had any…arrangements like this before but you couldn’t have been too far off for the requirements?
“What are you-” But as you start to protest Sukuna only guffaws even louder.
“Alright, alright-” He’s raising up a hand as if to tell you to stop before his (well-toned) sides start to split. It’s only once you take a step back and huff n’ puff yourself into silence that the man finally starts to calm down. Looking down at his lap, “Damn- fuck, I’ve never had my boner killed so fast.”
“It’s just the requirements.” You’re grumbling.
“Girl, I might as well cut off all my ah- ‘friends’ as you so-nicely put it and marry you.” Quite dramatic, but alright. You notice that he doesn’t push back against your boundaries, however. Sukuna stares you down, eyes twinkling with something that you couldn’t quite discern. “And what exactly would you like to call our little relationship then?”
“Friends-with-benefits, what else?”
“Mm, I like it.”
“And nothing more- no marrying any time soon.” You shudder when you think of your last failed relationship.
Sukuna grins, “Keh- don’t have to worry about that.”
.
.
.
“Okay-” Utahime slams! all one-thousand pages of Shoko’s anatomy textbook down on the cafeteria table, rattling your trays and making the surrounding students glance at your trio. You’re watching as her glass of orange juice splashes precariously around the rim and inches one watery hand towards the pages of the book. “-spill.”
You’re startling at her sudden interrogation, “What?”
And to your horror, even Shoko puts aside her medical notes to pay full attention to the commotion between her friends. Both of them staring—squarely at you.
“You heard me.” Utahime crosses her arms, “Something’s up with you these days- and we want to know what.”
Shoko nods, sighing the way she did whenever she was assigned a particularly difficult medical case to discern. “Sudden glow about you- likely a mix of estrogen and dopamine boosts, slightly dazed look in your eyes, increased screen time, unconscious smiles, unexplained disappearances at odd times of night.” She taps her pen on her chin, “Science says you have a boyfriend.”
Utahime gasps, “And we haven’t heard about it?” Throwing an arm around a deadpan Shoko, who says nothing when the other girl shakes her to and fro. “We- we, your very best friends since freshman year, haven’t heard about him.”
“So who is it? I’m curious.” Shoko probes.
“Tell us or I cry-”
“It’s no one.” You’re finally managing a choke out, to which you’re met with the most dramatic groans from both your friends. This time, they’re loud enough to garner the attention of over half this section of the cafeteria- and in your peripheral vision, you swear you could feel the intensity of two crimson eyes…
Your eyes flick to the side - and there’s your first mistake.
Utahime gasps, kneeling on the bench to look over Shoko’s head. “He’s there-” Above your frantic pleas for her to just settle down, “Don’t lie, I saw your eyes move! He’s there I just know it-”
You grab onto her dress and start tugging, “Uta, for heaven’s sake just sit- down-”
“Hmmm, the only ones there are Professor Yaga- no. Todo- no. That PhD student, Higuruma- maybe.” As her options dwindle, she sweeps her eyes. “Ijichi- no, eugh. No offense, my dear, it’d just get so troubling to have to peg him all the time.”
You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “U-Utahime, oh my god!” Even Shoko simply lets it happen in amusement.
Until finally, her eyes waft over the group of fraternity brothers that sat tall amongst the rest of the students. She wrinkles her nose at them, “One of the Curses Epsilon boys- no way, you’re smarter than that.”
They were such a boisterous bunch. Murmuring what were most likely innuendos with each other, clapping each other on the backs with guffaws. Almost handsomely stupid the way they kept looking to their pink-haired leader for approval. Occasionally, someone from a neighboring table would walk up to them in an attempt to talk to Sukuna - and the entire table would fall over themselves to erupt in wolf howls.
You were almost thankful for the way Utahime had given you the excuse to stare right at him. The way he’d wave off whichever newcomer, the way he’d roll his eyes at his friends’ antics. You’re realizing that his group was mostly composed of athletes, evidenced by the team jerseys and the trays upon trays of food were wolfing down.
Sukuna, noticeably, wasn’t wearing his wrestling hoodie.
The thought makes something shift at the pit of your stomach.
“Oh my god, it’s one of them-” Utahime’s following your line of sight with something akin to horror, and even Shoko seems to be rapt with an attention that she didn’t ever have in her classes.
Both of them had easily let their eyes slip past the boys, it seems. And it’s only once they saw your lingering gaze, only once they saw that familiar smile across your face, that they’re realizing.
Widened eyes slipping back to the rambunctious table.
You snap your eyes to your purple-haired friend once you register her words, “N-no, wait-”
“You stuttered!” She squeals, and you don’t know whether it’s out of excitement at the gossip or sheer fear. She turns to Shoko, “She stuttered, right? I’m not dreaming? She stuttered?”
Shoko nods, “She stuttered.”
Utahime whirls back to face you, “You didn’t even stutter when you told off that asshole Naoya- thank you for that recording by the way, it was quite the pleasure to listen to.” Shaking her head as if to make herself get back on topic, “Either way, are you or are you not dating one of the Curses Epsilon boys?”
“I am…” You pause, “-not.”
They both groan at your response. Utahime even reaches over the table to shake you by the shoulders, “Tell us- I can- tell- when- you- lie-”
“No- no listen!” You’re defending yourself, swatting away her grabby hands. “I’m really not dating one of them, promise! It’s just…”
Shoko asks, “Just?”
You sigh, there was no getting out of this now. “Remember that party we went to at their house a few weeks ago?” Continuing as they nod, your heartbeat starts to accelerate as you realize you’re getting to the meat of the story. “Right- and remember how I disappeared halfway through the night and told you that Akari dragged me off somewhere?”
Utahime gasps, “I have connected the dots.”
Shoko frowns, “You haven’t connected shit.”
“I’ve connected them.” She replies, “I always assumed you ended up hooking up with someone that night and didn’t think much of it. Now you’re telling me that it was one of them-”
“Keep your voice down!” You plead, “But yes, it was…and the thing is that one night turned into two, two turned into three.” Your skin starts to heat up as you remember just last night when you’d snuck out to be let in through the back door of Curses Epsilon. To be pressed onto all fours and ruthlessly ploughed into- “But look, the point is that now we’re kinda…sorta…friends-with benefits.”
They gasp in unison.
Utahime’s all but standing on the bench once more, “Who is it-”
“Whose dick do I need to cut off.” And Shoko is, too.
You put your face into your hands with a groan as they start listing off names.
“No.”
“Choso?”
“No.”
“Larue?”
“No.”
“Kenjaku?”
“No.”
“It surely can’t be fucking Sukuna-” Both of them look at you, look at the impression on your face. And they turn to each other with serious expressions, “She’s fucking Sukuna.”
There was no use in telling them to keep their volumes down now - people turned their heads your way and started to whisper. You could only imagine what the rumor mill was conjuring up now. Hell, even Sukuna himself casually flicked his head your way in interest.
And you wished you could sink even deeper into your seat.
“Did you see that-” Utahime hisses.
“I saw.” Shoko replies.
And the purple-haired girl reaches over to clasp your hands, “He was giving you that look- oh my god. He looked like he was about to eat you up—” And you think that Utahime is perhaps the only one who’d look over and glare at Ryomen Sukuna the way she did just then, “You know what they say about him, right?”
“I’m well aware.” You breeze off, “It’s nothing serious- just no-strings-attached fun, promise. I could break it off at any time and not feel a thing, and I know the same goes for him.”
Utahime scoffs, “Yeah but it’s not like he’s seeing you that often, right?” A pause. “Right?”
“Well…”
You’d been saved in that very instance by a bzzzz—! in your pocket: a text from the man of the conversation himself. And with a quick apology to your friends (you loved them, you really did, but you supposed that was enough interrogation for the day) and a glance at your calendar to make sure you didn’t have any more classes for the day—you were racing out of the cafeteria.
Followed suspiciously closely by a certain pink-haired wrestling superstar.
You didn’t quite care who saw what or thought what, because a few hours later found you back in your single dorm room.
Fucked stupid.
Sex still hung in the air.
You were sprawled out across your humble single bed, heaving as if you’d just ran a marathon. Head sinking into the pillows. Cunt all drooling with your splashin’ slick. Still reeling from the aftershocks of your multiple highs.
With Sukuna’s athletic stamina, however, he seemed to be barely affected. Taking a light drag of his cigarette (you’re sure the building had a no smoking policy…), he looks over your dorm room with faint interest. Much smaller than his but also much…cozier, you had to admit.
Lived in.
He takes in the polaroids of you and your friends, all the cutesy lights, the columns of books. Sukuna stares hard at one of the pictures above your headboard—it was one of you, Utahime, and Shoko after shotgunning a few beers. On the verge of throwing up.
“Cute- the dorm, I mean. S’nice.” He says, blowing out a streamline of smoke at the photograph. “This purple-haired one s’the one that was screamin’ about us in the cafeteria today?”
“You heard that?” You exclaim.
“Girl, the entire cafeteria and Gakuganji’s senile ass heard y’all.” He rolls his eyes with a grin, “Dunno whether you’re louder then or…” Such a devilish, devilish grin. “-here.”
“Shut up.”
“You certainly didn’t-”
“They threatened to cut off your balls if you broke my heart, y’know.” You don’t quite know why you’re telling him - Sukuna was probably used to the threats of his love interests by this point. You’re turning to your side and facing him, trying not to shiver at the way his eyes glide appreciatively down your exposed body. “Not that there’s gonna be anything at stake to break.”
“Of course.”
“Of course.”
“And what if?” He asks you, to which you only look at him in confusion. Sukuna takes his sweet time puffin’ on his cigarette once more before satiating your curiosity, “What if I break your heart?”
You think about it for a little bit, “I won’t cut off your balls.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll cut off your entire dick and feed it to you myself.”
The cigarette falls from his hands and onto your carpeted floor- which Sukuna hastens to put out with an uncharacteristic yelp. You guessed wrestling scholarships didn’t cover burnt-down dorm rooms, and you have to stifle a giggle at his actions.
“You-” He pants out, finally looking up after picking the scorched nub between his fingers and throwing it into your trashcan. Almost glaring those rosy eyes down at you, “You think you’re soooo funny, huh, mama?”
You chuckle, “I do.”
“Well, yer lucky you’re cute.” He grumbles to himself, at least- you think that’s what he grumbles to himself. Because the moment you’re looking at Sukuna in slight surprise, he turns his head.
You see nothing but the sharp edge of his jawline, those high cheekbones, the tips of his ears that were flushed with…the sex? Surely? Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, Sukuna brings a hand up to cover them under the pretense of scratching his sweaty undercut. “Never met anyone with this much fuckin’ audacity.”
You yelp, “H-hey!”
“Hey yerself.” And then he’s heaving himself up and digging underneath your own fucking bed as if it was his. How strange, this familiarity. The two of you had only known each other for a few weeks (though you had to admit you had spent considerable hours together) and here Sukuna was rifling through your room like nothing - you just wasn’t sure whether that was a him thing or…He’s finally pulling out—
“That- that’s my rose toy?!”
“Yeah, let’s give ‘er a spin.”
.
.
.
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Itadori Jin’s voice echoed out from the other line, almost reaching a fever pitch in defensiveness.
Sukuna rolls his blush-red eyes, he’d been standing outside this godforsaken café on a call with his brother for what felt like hours now. With you inside and waiting. All warm. All…fucked-out—anyway! The point was that you were inside all comfortable, and he was a hulking figure looming outside some frilly café grumbling profanities underneath his breath.
In his defense, it was after one of your ‘hangouts’, alright!
It was just another day with you. After he’d pumped deep into your lungs, Sukuna just-so-happened to hear your stomach rumble in hunger. And he was the one to have suggested taking a stroll down to the lil’ café down the block. It was packed with college students, and he didn’t really care who saw - besides, bearing through the gaudy interior theme and re-play of music certainly not his taste was almost bearable for the pleasant surprise in your ears.
And the refueling, of course. The main reason he was taking you here was because (surprise, surprise!) a house full of college men didn’t quite have the nutrition needed to last a few more rounds. And Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t done with you just yet.
He just didn’t expect to have been assaulted by a phone call from his older brother the very second he’d taken a step inside. And Sukuna had told you to find a seat for the two of you, deciding to take the call outside. He knew his brother wouldn’t give up if he declined the call.
They always were alike, Sukuna and Jin.
Sure, maybe not in personality - Jin was always a bit of a goody-two-shoes, though he could hold his own in a fight. Sukuna was the one everyone said they had to watch out for.
The one that didn’t get invited to birthday parties by fearful parents, the one picked last during team sports because they said he’d start a brawl, the one visited only by his brother and his father the first time he’d ended up in the ER after a fight, the one who only had those two to cheer at his wrestling matches. Only ever those two.
Whatever.
Same rosy hair.
Same features (for the most part, at least. Sukuna’s constant trips to the gym and the ER had resulted in him having a rather more rugged look than his twin).
Same stubbornness.
They’d ended up going to different universities, with Jin attaining a scholarship for marine biology a few hours away. Which meant that family functions weren’t quite as frequent as they used to be, but he could still hear it in the man’s voice - that stubbornness.
It made the younger of the two brothers feel the heat creeping up on the back of his neck, slightly squirming as Jin admonished him—“I’m just saying that you sound happier than usual-”
“Jin.”
“And that’s a good thing!” He could practically envision the bespectacled man throwing his hands in the air, trying to hold back his smile. “Hell- Ryo, it’s a wonderful thing! You finally have someone making you happy! You’ve finally met someone special! You finally have someone in your life-”
“I don’t have trouble getting around.” He grumbles, and—well. Ryomen Sukuna isn’t quite the type to explain himself, but with his brother…
“Ryo.”
“Alright, alright!” Sukuna bursts out, and a mother nearby grabs her child by the hand and speedwalks away. “Alright, I haven’t met up with anyone else! I’ve cut off all of my ah- friends, for lack of a better word.” He could hear the smug hum of his brother, “But that’s not because it’s special or anything, it’s just because…”
Jin urges, “Go on…?”
“Because s’just convenient, alright?” He’s finally answering, “S’too much of a hassle to get fuckin’ tested after each one, so I might as well only have her in my life- ah wait, fuck, I didn’t mean it like that-”
“I knew it.” Comes the squeal, “Listen, Ryo, I just don’t want your stubbornness to get in the way of something special-”
“And I don’t want to hear yer voice- goodbye, old man.”
The ringing tone to denote that the call has ended is much more soothing than his brother’s voice, he decides. And he takes a few deep breaths before tucking his phone back in his pocket- turning it on silent mode.
He turns around to step inside and—there you are.
Dressed in that hoodie of his that he’d forgotten to take back from you. The air of someone that’d just been properly fucked. Through the glass, he sees you staring at the other people outside. He strays his gaze himself to see what you see- you’re chuckling at that little boy who skips along the pavement, you gasp at the delivery driver with a stack of boxes who almost trips, you coo at the elderly couple walking their dog. Hand-in-hand.
Sukuna looks down at his own empty hands.
Scarred and calloused.
Before he’s reaching his dominant one upwards and pushing open the swinging café doors. You look up from the booth you’d chosen for yourselves as he enters, waving him in the right direction. It was one by the window, he notices, though in the very corner of the place as if you’d wanted to hide yourself away.
Perhaps hide the two of you away.
Hm…Sukuna thinks, rubbing at his chest. And thrusting both hands into his pockets, he’s sauntering right up to you.
He’s not blind to the stares he garners from some of the other customers, and though any other time he might have thrown a stray wink or two - and honestly, nothing was stopping him now - he simply sides into the seat opposite you. “Sorry ‘bout that, mama- emergency calls.”
“Emergency?” You raise your brows in amusement, peering at the man opposite you as if you were analyzing every inch of him. And he almost couldn’t believe that just a few minutes ago, you’d been shaking and whining underneath him. “I don’t know anyone named ‘Emergency’ at our school.”
“Goes to another school.” He quips, knees bumping against yours as he stretches them out underneath the table. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, girlie~”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
In almost no time, the waitress is bounding up to your table and jotting down your orders. He orders his coffee black, no sugar—and you roll your eyes at him.
The older woman then coos down at the little interaction, “Oh, you know we’ve got a special offer just this week in honor of our upcoming fifth anniversary? 100% off on all desserts for couples!” Her eyes wrinkle beautifully at the edges, “Would you two perhaps be…”
You open your mouth, “Oh, we’re actually-”
“Completely in love.” Sukuna interrupts you casually, his large hand settling over yours on top of the table. “Maddeningly. We’ll take one of everything for the lady and a strawberry shortcake for me, thanks.”
“Oho, you two.” She chuckles, walking off. “Ah, young love~”
You watch as she leaves—and snap your head towards Sukuna so fast that you think you may have gotten whiplash. “You-”
“It’s for the offer, don’t overthink it.” He lets go of your hand and crosses his arms. You almost miss the heat of it - was the air conditioning in this place too high? You’re sinking your hands into the sleeves of your- his hoodie, and Sukuna’s slouching in his seat. “Take it home- all the desserts, share it with your friend or whatever. It’s for you, anyway.”
“Right.” You’re not quite sure what to say- “Thank you?”
It’s a rather long and awkward silence that follows.
You attempt to break it by grasping for some shred of conversation, “So ah- is everything alright?”
He raises a pink brow in question.
And you don’t know how he manages to do it - how he manages to make your veins bubble and bolt inside of you with just a single look. “The ah- the call, I mean.” You’re squirming in your seat at his half-lidded gaze, so intense. He always looked at you with this certain fire, whether in bed or…here. “You were just out there for so long, I hope it wasn’t anything serious.”
He rests his chin on one hand and tilts his head, “Not worried about me, are you? If it was anything serious?”
“And if I was?”
“You shouldn’t.”
To which you furrow your brows in confusion, “What do you mean? Of course I’d care if something bad happened to you.”
Sukuna only holds your gaze, his expression unreadable.
He reaches a hand down his chest - right over his heart - and lightly rubs that spot. Finally looking away from you, the frat leader answers. “No- no, it’s nothing serious. Just a…friend.”
“I see.” You still.
“You said I could still have ‘friends’, right?” He asks, a note in his voice that was imperceptible. Sukuna looks at you with a meaning that you didn’t fully understand, and you’re realizing that the two of you had been leaning over the table for quite some time. “Or has that changed?”
It seems like an age before you break his eye contact, “Nothing has changed.”
Sukuna leans back in his seat, “I see.” There’s silence between you both once he reaches into his pocket and starts scrolling absent-mindedly through his phone. “Then yeah- it was a friend that called. I’ll get tested afterwards though, don’t you worry that pretty head of yours over it.”
“Good.”
A few more minutes of silence.
He can’t bear it. “Lemme eat you out in the bathroom as an appetizer before our food?”
“Be quick.”
.
.
.
“Truth or dare! Truth or dare! Truth or dare!” Utahime chants, jovial words slurring into a nearly-incomprehensible mess as she claps her hands. Messily, she’s pulling you and a few others into a haphazard circle on her bedroom floor.
All cooped up in a room that was decidedly not designed to hold this many people. The air dimmed with LED lights and cheap alcohol. Bass thumping throughout the bones of her apartment - it was a small get-together that’d turned into a large get-together that’d turned into friends of friends of friends both invited and uninvited
You swear you’d seen a few graduates sneak themselves onto the living-room-turned-dance-floor before you were being pulled into her room by your inebriated friend. One who, as the host, was deciding what the game of the night would be. “Truth or dare!”
Pronouncing, more like.
Shoko rolls her eyes, “Your ability to turn into a twelve-year-old when you’re drunk both fascinates and abhors me.”
“Jokes on you I don’t know what that word means.” Utahime sticks her tongue out, to which most of the group giggles.
“But seriously- are we twelve?”
“Fine…” Utahime grumbles, and clicks her fingers as if happening across a sudden epiphany. “Dare or drink, then!” She’s peering towards Shoko with a smug smirk, “How’s that for all adult and mature, hm?”
“That’s almost worse.”
You’re taking the opportunity to sweep a look at the (likely) players: some more of your friends, Ijichi, Haibara, Higuruma from the PhD students, a few sweet sorority girls, some strangers, one Curses Epsilon member-
Your eyes widen as you take in the long-haired man—Choso, you believe his name was.
He catches you staring and smiles at you shyly, an expression that you hope you’re returning without it looking too much like a shocked grimace.
You’d seen this very man around Sukuna sometimes, and he seemed to be one of the quieter amongst the bunch. Below Sukuna in terms of rank, certainly, they seemed to have an almost brotherly relationship that stood out to you when you looked at the group. And, listen! It’s not that you didn’t realize a member of his fraternity could attend parties - in fact, Curses Epsilon was synonymous with parties.
So you should have expected this. So you should have been prepared for this.
But the fact that he was here…a part of you couldn’t help but wonder whether that meant Sukuna was here, too…
What that meant he was doing…
Who…
You’re startled out of your little reverie by a call of your name- and to your horror, you’re realizing that you’d been staring right at Choso. The man was squirming before you, his ears tinged just the slightest rosy shade.
Heart thundering at your throat, you look away and turn back to Utahime. Slightly breathless, “Wh-what?”
“You’re up first!”
She’s pointing down at the carpeted floor, which had a glinting vodka bottle in the middle that’d been spun, it seems. Its transparent circular nozzle stares you down in an almost-accusing way and makes you shift uncomfortably—you didn’t even know that they’d begun spinning bottles yet. And whoever was to fall victim to the end of its vermicular spine was the first up for their dares.
And it just-so-happened to be you.
You gape, “I-I…”
“C’mon, c’mon! You can’t back out now-” Utahime taps her chin and pretends to think, “I dare you to—”
“Fucking hell…” You already know that this wasn’t going to end up well for you.
And just as you expected, her eyes slide over to meet another pair of eyes—dark, doe-like eyes that had been fixated on you ever since you’d been fixated on them. Subconsciously or not. She smiles as she drinks in the sheer intensity that Choso had been staring at you with, “I dare you to make out with the person sitting opposite you for ten seconds.”
Your brows furrow, “Sitting opposite…” Eyes lifting up to meet—his. “Oh.”
“Oh.” Choso’s pink lips part, the tips of his ears furiously red.
And there’s a few seconds of silence- between you two, but not the drunken students that surround you two. They erupt into cheers and wolf whistles, ribbing at a quiet Choso Kamo to get on with it.
As you stare, stunned, he peeks up at you through his long lashes. “W-would you mind?” His quiet voice was almost inaudible.
“I…don’t.” You find yourself answering, mouth moving faster than your brain can compute.
And before you know it, you’re rising to your feet and making your way to the middle of the circle. Those dark eyes widen as you draw nearer- so different from the red ones that you were used to.
Something in your stomach clenches, and you feel a strange buzz zing! throughout your entire body. You’re not sure whether you like it or not.
Choso himself starts to get closer to you, and your pulse quickens at his closing proximity. His eyes turn half-lidded as they flick to your lips and back up to your face, like he was making sure that you were okay with this. Tentative. Almost…shy. You’re admiring the tousled look of his hair, that tremble of his lips, and the way his eyeliner makes him look so soft.
You wanted to run. You wanted to kiss someone. You wanted to run. “I- I really don’t.”
Choso kisses you.
For a beat. Two.
One of his ringed hands snake upwards to grip the column of your throat, and you’re parting your lips with a moan! Fuck, you were getting wet. Just in time for him to slip in his tongue and-
CRASH! THUD!
You’re wincing at the rush of light that assaults your retinas, and as you slowly blink back your vision- you realize that there were tears in them. Because of what, you’re not too sure. But you chalk it up to the harshness of the light as your eyesight clears back up.
And then you’re seeing—oh, it couldn’t have been a figment of your imagination.
You’d never mistake that cotton-candy hair anywhere.
Sukuna was on Choso, with the other man sprawled out on the ground and the rugged wrestler on top of him. Chest heaving. Skin flushed. A vein throbbing at his neck. His entire body was rigid and honed for a fight that he knew he was going to win. He had one tattooed hand gripping the front of Choso’s shirt, and the other pulled back mid-punch.
A punch that he was frozen in.
A punch that clearly hadn’t landed yet.
From what you’re surmising of the situation, Sukuna had pulled the other man off of you by his collar. From what you’re surmising of the situation, he was all but about to attack the other man just because he was kissing—
“Ryo.” You’re starting, a hand reaching out as if to stop the fight yourself.
Any and all floatiness from the liquor had now completely dissipated from your body, and you were only left coiling in thick, unyielding tension. Surprisingly, your voice doesn’t waver. “Don’t do anything fucking stupid or god help me-”
Almost as if jolted to life by the sound of your voice, Sukuna lets go of Choso in a single, jerky movement.
Though he doesn’t speak - and you’re almost thankful for it, you don’t know what you’d say to him. Instead you’re breaking out of your little trance and pushing aside Sukuna—yes, pushing him to the side so that you can get to Choso.
Stunned, he lets you move him.
He always has.
With both hands gently placed upon either side of Choso’s handsome face, you’re inspecting him for any injuries. He flushes slightly at your touch. And - tactfully - no one nearby says a single word about it. “I’m- I’m alright.” Choso says, his tone slightly hoarse.
But you don’t give up until you’re completely and utterly sure that he’s okay. “Hm, well alright.” Finally letting up, you start to move yourself- and only then do you realize that you’d been straddling Choso’s hips. Hurrying to scramble off, “O-on behalf of him, I apologize.”
You’re lightly bowing and he stops you with a hand at your shoulder- only to glance at Sukuna and let you go as if you burned. “No, no! It’s my fault for not knowing-”
“Don’t worry.” You spare a glance at Sukuna, who had his eyes downcast and his expression revealing nothing. “There’s nothing to know.”
And that…that makes the Ryomen Sukuna flinch—
As if he’d just been stabbed.
As if the temperature in the room had dropped to freezing.
As if you’d plunged your hand right through his ribcage and torn out his heart.
But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at his point. “Again- I’m so sorry.” Turning back to Choso, who’d been watching the exchange with side eyes - right along with half of the party that’d turned up from the living room now at the whispers of a commotion here. Especially one with the wrestling star—and over a girl at that! “And about that ah…” You gesture at his hips…the ones you’d been straddling.
Choso blushes even deeper, waving his hands in front of him frantically. “No- no, I didn’t mind! I mean- I mean, it’s alright and you don’t need to apologize! But you didn’t need to apologize anyway because I didn’t-”
“Man.” Shoko rests a hand on his shoulder, “Stop talking.”
He immediately clicks his jaw shut.
The next thing you’re doing, you don’t even know if you even fully thought it through. Because one second you’re standing up—and the next you’ve got your hand wrapped around Sukuna’s waist—and the next you’re dragging him through the packed party—
Through the crowd that turns their head to look at your unlikely duo, that turns their head to watch the gruff leader of the wrestling team be led out as if he was a naughty child.
Sukuna lets you take a few steps out of the apartment’s front door, before he’s halting in his tracks and gripping onto your waist instead. Not hard enough that it hurts, not gentle enough for you to be diverted anywhere but his one-track destination to…well, you weren’t quite sure.
“Ryo- I mean, Sukuna—” You squeal as your heels click-clack! down the stairs. You don’t pull yourself free from him, because you know he would let you. “Sukuna, I demand to know where we’re going-”
“There’s nothing to know.”
Your stomach drops.
It’s the last thing he says. The only.
And you can only follow as Sukuna draaaags you out into the night-lit street, cars lining the pavements like the straps of lingerie on a faceless body. An outstretched. A ready.
You’re recognizing the gleaming black body of his new Audi in an instant - you would anywhere, to be honest. It took up about half the street. Imposing, just like him. It always did make your heart skip a beat to see it parked outside whatever rager you were attending for the night. Just as soon as you’re registering the car, you’re having your back pushed up against it-
“What are you-” You gasp out, before his lips are on yours.
Furious. Feral. Fighting to open them roughly with his own mouth, he’s taking a single look at your prettily parted lips and spiiiiitting straight onto your tongue- before stuffin’ it with his own tastebuds, just in the way that Choso was about to mere minutes early.
You muffle out, “M-mmpf- Sukuna!”
“Ryo.” He rasps, blindly unlocking the door and pushing you into the spacious backseat. “You know m’always your Ryo.”
That night he fucks you harder, faster than any time before.
As if he was claiming every inch of you.
And you don’t end up going home for the night—no, you end up at Sukuna’s instead. And if he made you moan his name even louder than usual, well, it’s only in the morning that you realize that Choso’s bedroom was right next door.
.
.
.
Ryomen Sukuna had flowers—
An entire bouquet of red roses that he’s sure the florist ripped him off for - surely something grown out of the dirt couldn’t be that expensive?! But he did have to admit that it looked wonderful taking up more than half of his backseat—the very same backseat he’d fucked you senseless in not too many nights ago.
The two of you hadn’t seen each other properly since Utahime’s party.
What with his wrestling practices for the upcoming tournaments, and your finals rounding the corner. It’s honestly by sheer miracle that Coach Kashimo had cancelled today’s training for some reason or the other (he honestly didn’t look too closely, merely glancing at the email before driving to the nearest florist whilst texting you to ask whether you were free). And, well, here he was…
So fucking pathetic in his excitement to meet you that he’d forgotten the damned flowers in his car!
Sukuna hopes that they weren’t wilted as he struggles to put on his ripped jeans, discarded on your bedroom floor right along with the rest of his clothes. He’s looking around frantically for his t-shirt, when you glance over at him from the bed.
And he doesn’t see the flicker of hurt in your eyes.
“Leaving so soon, Ryo?”
“Uh huh.” He’s absent-mindedly responding—where the fuck where his socks? Did he even need socks just to go down to his car-
You bite down on the inside of your cheek, “Another appointment?” Another person, is what you really wanted to ask, but…
“Something important that I forgot.” Sukuna replies, looking underneath your bed and ah- there they were. He feels you sitting up on the bed, blanket clutched to your naked chest, as he sits on the mattress with his back turned and finishes dressing up. “Fuckin’ hell, can’t believe I even came up here forgetting-”
“Right.” Your tone was clipped.
“Should’ve gone down the second I remembered but-”
“Should have.”
“Because it’s mad urgent-”
“More than me.”
“I just got a little distracted, y’know?” The pink-haired man glances over his shoulder with a teasing smirk, slightly frowning at the way you turn your head away from him. Hm…he attempts to lighten the mood, “S’all your fault, girlie~”
“Sukuna.”
And that makes him slightly wither in on himself. That tone. That name. Trying to get a good look at your face, he leans towards you. “What’s wrong…?”
“I think we should end this.”
Everything.
Everything was wrong.
Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t fight your decision, Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t try to get you to explain. He lets your words sink into his being like a pebble cast out in the vast and unceasing Blue—and he lets them fester within him just as mysteriously.
He’s walking out of your dorm a hollow man.
Right up to his car, he’s taking automatic steps. Where he flings the door open and grips the bundle of stems of those- of those fucking roses.
He wants to destroy them.
Sukuna’s hand trembles as he raises them high in the air to chuck- before his peripheral vision features two familiar faces. Unbreathing, he’s turning his head jerkily to the side and staring at them—matching crows’ feet, a slow hobble, the slightly hoarse laughter between a whispered conversation. A vision so private that he almost wants to look away, he didn’t know how you did it.
It scares him how quickly he recognizes the elderly couple to be the exact same one you’d been admiring from afar that one day at the café.
It scares him.
Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t know why he hands his heartbreak bouquet to the old couple that day. But he does remember one thing - the delighted smiles on both their faces, the way the old man had so-clearly wanted to hold the blushing, beautiful flowers. But he’d given them to his wife anyway.
Seeing the young man staring, the old man had winked.
A knowing smile on his face.
“Oh dear, oh dear.” To which the sweetly older woman had reached down to pluck! two blossoms from the bouquet. And without hesitating, she’d tucked one behind her husband’s ear—and then beckoned Sukuna to lean down to tuck the last one behind his. Rosy red against lovely pink.
His eyes widen as her slightly roughened hands cup his cheek.
Humming with a smile, “You are so easy to love, my dear.”
Something in him breaks a little at that very moment.
And Ryomen Sukuna drives the entire four hours it takes him to drive to Itadori Jin’s university, to damn-near bang down his apartment door.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!
“I’m coming, I’m coming! Jeez…” His older brother’s familiar voice - stubborn, so stubborn just like his calls out from inside the apartment. He doesn’t care that it’s 2AM and Jin’s neighbors would be complaining, right now he just…really needed his big brother.
He can hear the footsteps get even closer. “Who the hell is it at this time- I swear if it’s rent then I already paid it two weeks ag-”
The door clicks open.
Jin’s face freezes in surprise—before it’s dropping at the look on Sukuna’s face.
“Oh, Ryo.”
His arms are around the taller man’s instantly.
And if Itadori Jin felt his sweater drench where Sukuna’s face rested, then he doesn’t say a word about it.
“What did I tell you about keeping your someone special, Ryo?”
.
.
.
It’s the next day when you’re waking up to an incessant knocking at your door.
It pounds like the headache you’d been sporting all night.
And you’re getting up, your eyes swollen - not just from sleep (in fact, you don’t think you slept a single wink all night) - and your movements all sluggish. Looking down, you realize that your pyjamas- Sukuna’s wrestling hoodie, was still drenched in tears. Your blinks were heavy. You felt a mess.
You barely even wanted to get out of your bed, and you don’t think you would have had it not been for the sheer ferocity of the knocks.
Were they trying to break down your damn door?!
“C-coming!” You’re coughing out, sure you had a doorbell that was going unused. Disgruntled, you’re unlocking the door and reaching for the doorknob. “Jeez, Uta, I swear this isn’t really a good time if you’re going to-”
The first thing you see is red.
Red.
Red.
Red roses.
Bouquets of it lined every inch of your dorm’s corridor, as far as your eye could see, some even piled on top of each other, the largest held between Ryomen Sukuna’s trembling hands.
And the second thing you see is, well, red again.
The blush that dusts his handsome face, rivalling his pinkish locks. Sukuna takes a half-step forwards- before he seems to think better of it and lurches right back. His thick brows furrow in sincerity, as if he just wanted to make you feel his words— “I love you.” He pants, as if he’d just run here. And it feels like all the breath has been knocked out of your lungs. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you-”
“Oh, Ryo.”
And it’s all the confirmation Sukuna needs to let the bouquet in his hands drop down to the floor. Rustling. Letting the blossoms be replaced with something that is, to him, far more beautiful.
He crushes you so tightly into his embrace that you almost can’t breathe - nothing but the soft strawberry scent that engulfs you whole. And you almost don’t think you need to. Not right now. “I love you.”
“You idiot.” You choke out, “You idiot- you’re so- fucking- stupid.” You punctuate your words with punches to his chest, which makes it rumble with a chuckle. “And I’m even more stupid because I…”
“Yes?” Breathless.
“I love you even more, Ryo.”
He sighs with his entire soul and collapses in on his world—you.
A few minutes later.
What feels like absolutely no time later.
You’re finding your back laid flatly against your single bed - a humble compartment in your dorm room. But now it had you sprawled out across it and reaching for your rickety headboard to hang onto dear life, Sukuna kneeled at the foot of the bed and clawing at your tear-stained sweatpants.
Pulling at it.
Tearing through it.
Your whines intermingle with the rip-rip-riiiip of fabric once he’s exposing your naked legs. You were wearing nothing underneath it, and Sukuna’s fucking groaning as he opens up your thighs to take the heavenly sight in-between.
“Fuh-fuck…” You swear you see a line of glittering drool fall down the side of his mouth, one that Sukuna’s gulping back as soon as it comes. “Holy fuck, sweetheart, how do you look even tastier every time I see ya?”
You’re huffing, unable to stop yourself. “Maybe you’re just mixing me up with-”
“Don’t say that.” And though his voice was quiet, it was stern. It meant every word he was saying, “Never say that.”
Gliding his roughened hands down the tender inner parts of your thighs- you’re shivering as you feel every line and callus from his palms. Remnants of wrestling. The softness of holding you. It makes something in your heart lurch, “I-I just-”
“You don’t need to explain yourself.” Sukuna looks away with a light blush as he cuts you off, “But I do. We have much to talk about…but the one thing I need you to know is that ever since I met you, I have never, and will never, so much as look at anyone else.”
“Ryo—” You whimper, feeling the thick crowned edges of his thumbs inch towards your drippin’ core.
“And I want you to know that m’yours.” He nudges his handsome head closer, until he could breathe in the sultry scent of your pussy. You could feel the cold breeze of his inhale- “Soul…and body.”
And then he’s lavishing his loooong tongue out to lick a wet stripe at your clothed pussy.
Sluuuuuurp—! Such a greedy taste of your cunt. Before Sukuna’s drawing his muscle back in just to do it all over again - flick after flick where you were most tender. With the tip of his tastebuds he’s outlining your glistening crevice, and pinpointing them right where the knob of your clit was located.
You’re twitching as you feel him enter his lengthy tongue juuuust underneath the drenched fabric of your panties, before fishing it back out whenever he feels he got too close to your pussy.
“P-please-” You’re grabbing onto Sukuna’s head of pink hair, trying to move him even closer. “Want you even closer- stop teasing now.”
He rolls his eyes rudely, “Teasing? You think this is me teasing, sweetheart?” And before you can register it, he’s reeling his tongue all the way back into his mouth. Leaving your poor cunt all throbbing and completely untouched. “This is me teasing.” As you buck your hips pathetically with the desire for his ridged texture, “What I was doin’ earlier was just savoring, mama.”
You throat was thick with need, “But- but what is there to savor-”
“What the fuck are ya talking about?” One of his pink brows raise.
“I mean-” You hasten to explain, your entire body radiating pure heat and need. “You’ve already had me like this before-”
“Oh—” And suddenly, the most lecherous smile plasters across his attractive face - already slicked with copious amounts of wadded slick that sticks to him like some sort of adhesive. “Girlie, you don’t even know the half of what m’capable of.”
And before you know it—Sukuna’s rugged fingers come down to spank! right on top of your pussylips.
Before you know it, he’s clasping the side of your ass cheeks and flipping you right over as if you weighed nothing more than a feather. With one finger hooking onto your panties- you can distinctly sense when the wrestler seems to think better of it and instead bites his pearly white canines down on your soaked underwear.
You’re muffling out with your face pushed into your pillows, “Wh-what are you-”
Before he’s teeeeeeearing your panties right down with nothing but his mouth.
Exposing your quivering pussy all for him to see, smearin’ apart your folds with both his thumbs. He takes a few seconds to admire the slick that splashes out of your entrance, before spitting vertically down your slit.
Simply to add onto the mess.
It’s the only warning you’re getting before Sukuna completely surges in and shoves himself nose-deep between your puffy folds. Just the tip of his nose drags down the middle of your cunt from behind, and before you know it- his tongue is zig-zagging at your hole wiiiiiildly—
He’s like a madman. He’s like a man starved.
Gulping at the excess of your leaking sap and then munching himself even close to lap at the dewdrops of slick just about to fall out of you. They don’t even have to be pouring out of you for your greedy Sukuna to be gluing himself to your cunt.
Shovelling his tongue even deeper.
And when your tight orifice can’t take any more of him, he’s grunting out into your cunt and spitting.
“Fuck.”—He’s clenching his jaw and spitting out once more at the slight resistance of your hole. Just the way that Sukuna’s wet muscle was oh-so-thick, and he kept having to pry apart your pussy folds even further just to inch inside. Until you’re shivering at the feeling of his knobbly tastebuds dragging down your walls, “C’mon c’mon c’mon- just fucking take it my girl, I know you want to.”
“I swear your tongue got even bigger, Ryo-”
Your velvety walls close in on him, keeping his slippery tongue hostage while he only tries to ebb even deeper. He’s clenching his jaw at the slight resistance of your tight hole. “S’only been a day and she’s forgotten me this much?”
Fisting at the pillows, “I didn’t, it’s just you’re too big.”
“Appreciate the flattery, mama.” You could feel his grin against your softened flesh. “But it’s my fault.”
Instinctually, you’re raising your head off of the spit-drenched pillows to ask just what he meant-
“But I guess I hafta eat her out so she remembers this time, hm?”
But you didn’t have to ask for the answer.
You didn’t even have to think—honestly, you don’t think you can even, well, think by the time he’s got a hold of you.
Because Ryomen Sukuna was going to do well on his promise—Ryomen Sukuna was going to do well on all his promises.
He was latching one ruthless hand onto the side of your hips and manhandling your hips to start gyratin’ down onto his open maw. Angling you in just the right position so that his swollen lips can latch onto your throbbing clit-
“Bet’cha didn’t know that m’a good multitasker.” He’s gurgling out, wads of slick n’ spittle clogging up his throat. And the thing was—Sukuna didn’t care how much he had to suffocate on your pussy, he fucking loved that shit.
“I-I don’t think I did.” You’re replying.
“And bet’cha didn’t know that I- fuck, I can reach in so deeeeeep.” The large muscle of his tongue swipes in so deeply inside of you- you can’t even fully comprehend whether he’d plunged inside all the way up to his chin because of how dumb he was fucking you.
Rough, hard strikes at all your most delicate spots inside.
Finishing off with the most sinful noises - it’s like the deeper he gets, the louder those noises get. “Bet’cha didn’t know that I r-reach yer- hah, g-spot this fast, hm?”
You’re furrowing your brows. Sure, you were slowly getting more and more dazed on his cock - but surely you weren’t that mindless that you wouldn’t notice? “Wait, but I don’t think you ever actually—oh.”
And then you’re feeling it.
And you’re realizing that Sukuna had timed it precisely for the middle of your sentence, when he can hear the effects of you stumbling and falling apart on his very tongue.
Mazing all the way inside as if searching for treasure, his thorough inches are spreading out your walls so well. Not leaving a single crevice unturned, a single drivelling orifice, a single bundle of nerves- that he’s honing in on and darting straight against.
Pushing down on the area of your g-spot, you’re suddenly jolted by the electricity of your pleasure. He snickers, “There it is.”
Crying out, “Th-that’s just mean, Ryo.”
“Th-th-that’s just mean.” Mocking, in a lilting pitch that was most certainly not reminiscent of your own. With a tough roll of his eyes, he’s only unfastened his maw to take you even deeper from behind. “Bet’cha didn’t know that I could be meeeeean—fuckin’ meaner than you even even thought.”
“I-I think I know too well.” Or so you claim - but shit, Sukuna had never eaten you out like this before.
With his pointed chin jutting against the base of your treacly cunt, and his nose curving against your slit. Sukuna isn’t just thrusting his tongue inside you, he’s also making sure to flick and linger his tastebuds into any orifice he knew you were fragile at.
Again. Probing.
Again and again and again.
And with a smug chuckle, Sukuna claims. “Bet’cha didn’t know that I could go reeeeeal fast.” Until you’re hanging your head down to stare between your slick-sheened legs and all you could see was a pink blur intruding at your folds. “Or reeeeeeal slow.”
“F-fuck, that feels so good.” Your back arches into the perfect curvature when his velveteen tongue starts slowing down into an agonizing pace.
It was just so slow that you could feel each line and crevice of his rows of tastebuds, and just so thorough that speckles of your syrup were darting from your orifice and splattering! down onto the mattress. It starts forming a puddle on the sheets beneath you- one that Sukuna was certain not to go to waste.
His free hand skids down the insides of your thighs, layering his fingers in a thin glaze of your pussy’s slick. And whence his fingertips were all done and coated, the pink-haired man was raising them up to his mouth and sucking the sweetness off.
Not. A. Single. Drop. Wasted.
With a groan, he’s not letting his time go to waste, either. And he’s back funneling your snug channel with his tongue—in and out, in and out, in and out. “Take yer pick- s’all for you, mama.”
“Sh-shit, but I like both.” You didn’t even know whether he was talking to you or your pussy by this point - but you were too gone on his tongue to even care. Slightly bucking your hips into his mouth, “But I- ngh, do like it a bit better when you go…faster…”
A sudden spank down on your clit once more, “Atta girl.”
Nose pressed up against your slit, tongue lashing ruthlessly inside.
Ruthlessly.
If you thought you were ruined on the movements of his tongue just earlier, then this sudden sloppy cadence has you seeing fucking stars.
The gooey end of his tongue swabs against every tender spot at your innards, somehow forking at your luscious g-spot and attempting to reach even deeper. Perhaps your cervix. Perhaps your womb. And Sukuna’s permanently patterning his tastebuds against your walls. Swirling and swirling and swirling right on time with the caresses at your clit.
He didn’t care how much you bucked and trembled at the sheer pleasure of it, the frat leader’s fingernails dig deep into your flesh every time you lurch away.
“Ah ah-” Only to be hauled back down in mere seconds by one of his strong arms. Back and forth, back and forth, baaaack and forth. With an unceremonious squelch! your pussy’s being plastered back down onto his mouth. And Sukuna tongues your folds back open to start jutting in between your lips, “Don’t- haaaah, fuck, don’t fucking run away…how m’I supposed to eat out my girl’s pussy if yer fucking running away?”
“I don’t know, you’ve never- hck!” Before you can open your mouth with your next few words, Sukuna’s showing you what it means to be his girl.
To have his knobbly fingertips pinch at your clit and start drawing—“H-heh…can ya spell it?” He rovers his thumb even harder on top of it like a button, “Bet’cha didn’t know I could do that. Spell it. Or are ya fucked dumb on m’mouth already?”
You’re replying crossly, “M’not fucked-”
“Then spell it.”
With a pitiful moan, you’re throwing your head in a downward direction to try and see exactly what he was-
Smack!
Yet another mean swatting on top of your puffy pussylips, and Sukuna’s tutting against them. It was as if his lips were glued to your pussy using the slick adhesive of your juices, and he didn’t want to detach himself even to speak—even to speak. “Ah ah- no cheating now, mama. Noooo cheating.”
“Fuh-fuck—” He angles his fingertips as if he was about to strike you once more. “Fine- I meant fine! The first letter is, mmm…”
“Yeeeees?” Drawling out.
And your pupils are swirling in time with the sultry motions of his digits. It was a pattern that makes every hair on your body stand on end - too curly to be a particularly pointy letter like ‘A’ or ‘K’ and yet not even half as curly to have been an ‘S’ that might mean his name. “Is it…R?”
“Atta girl.” Yet he plants another slamming of his fingertips that makes you throw your head back and whine, “Whoops- accident, sweetheart, accident.”
“F-fu—” Fuck you, is what you meant to say.
But Sukuna’s roughly bashin’ away at your sweetest orifice a few more times, leaving a big bruise against the side of your walls with his tongue. And it simply leaves you speechless, “Mmmm, nope! The next letter isn’t ‘F’, try again.”
“Y—!” You’re bawling out, your jaw falling agape at the sheer incredible speed at which he was drawing out all those whines and noises. It was simply unbearable in the best way. Unbearable.
You could tell that he had so-very-clearly been holding back at your previous…hangouts. And you could feel the burning sensation of bliss start up at the pit of your stomach, “And is the rest of the word ‘Ryomen’?”
“Mmm, three correct.” He answers, to which your hazy mind guesses that the first letters were R-Y-O…“Quite the sneaky lil’ thing, aren’t you? And ah- here’s a little hint, this next one’s an apostrophe.”
“Fuuuuuck, m’close.” You’re whimpering out in response- and his response, he’s only slashing at your g-spot at a faster rhythm. Only plucking at your tender clit—“S, and the next letter is- ngh, P.”
“Good, goooood—”
“U.” You gulp, and you’re unsure whether it was because of your oncoming high or because a lecherous part of you already suspected what the rest of what he was writing may be. “S…S…” Your entire body shivers, limbs unravelling - and you’re not quite sure whether you’d make it until the end of-
Your lips wobble as you try to enunciate, “Ryo’s pussy…”
“That’s my girl.”
You’re seeing a split-second of flashing lights before you’re suddenly pushed onto your high - hard, overtaking waves of pleasure that leave you all boneless against Sukuna’s eating mouth. But that worked just alright for him- he’d simply white-knuckle onto the side of your hips and lavish your tight entrance with his entire tongue.
Probing, again and again.
The cushy edge of his tongue swipes forwards to strike your g-spot right on time with the peaks of your euphoria. Like a perfect button for him to press on and increase your pleasure until you were simply shaking, “And my girl feels so goooood on her Ryomen’s mouth, doesn’t she?” He pants, fingers pinching your clit now and rolling between the roughened pads of his index and thumb. “Feels so nice cumming on Ryo’s tongue- bet’cha didn’t know it could feel this good, huh, sweetheart?”
Furiously shaking your head, “Didn’t- didn’t know- hck!”
And with a few more moans you’re just splashin’ your clingy wads all down Sukuna’s throat, all across his handsome lower half. “Ooooo- aaaaaatta girl—”
“C-can’t stop cumming.” You shake, tears sparkling at the edges of your eyes. “It just feels so good-”
“Leave some for m’cock, alright?”
But he was the one that wasn’t leaving anything, that wasn’t showing you any mercy.
Even once the sparks of your startling orgasm have bated, he’s plunging his wide tongue in and out. Scouring the inside and outside of your treacly pussy. Licking up every single ounce of slick sploshed down your front.
Dripping wet.
Only once you’re well and thoroughly overstimulated does Sukuna actually falter his movements, “Mmmm, there ya go, girlie~” He’s pulling his prolonged muscle out of your hole with a sloppy squeeeeeelch! He looks down at your mindlessly clenching pussy and admires his handy-work. “And now for the real deal.”
“Th-that wasn’t the real deal?” You’re asking through a whimper.
“That? That was just my appetizer, y’know?” The pink-haired man snickers at his own joke - though it really didn’t sound like a joke to you.
You attempt to flip yourself over- but Sukuna keeps you firmly in place with a hand at your hips. “Ah ah- don’t you think of running from me. Not now. Not ever.” And while you’re still draped across your front on the bed like this, Sukuna’s starting to tug off your hoodie—
Before he realizes just which one it is - his, his name on the back - and he stops immediately.
“Actually…” Sukuna stands, and you know that tone of voice didn’t bode anything good for you. “Why don’tcha keep it on, hm?”
Instead, he’s the one that’s stripping now.
That skin-tight shirt.
Those baggy pants.
Those boxers that were—oh.
Your eyes widen, “Is it just me or did…grow even bigger since last time, Ryo?”
“Mmm- why don’t we ask my pussy about it later, hm?”
And with that said, you’re getting to turn around and admire all of Ryomen Sukuna’s toned, tanned muscles. They ripple as he discards his clothes somewhere over his shoulder, making those tattoos of his look as though they were moving by themselves.
Greedily, your eyes follow the circles on either of his deltoids. The snake-like patterns down his pecs. The rings around his beefy biceps. The rings around his wrists. All the way down to the rings around either of his meaty thighs.
Shyly, you’re realizing that you’d skipped over one spot in particular.
And you drift your eyes back up—Sukuna’s erection was hard and hot between his legs. The most furious red at his mushroom tip that made him look as though he was so achingly needy he might as well fall off.
That you might as well count each one of his throbs.
Biting down on your lower lip, you’re impatient as you follow a bead of milky pre that dollops on top of his thick tip. Smearing just a bit. Travelling down, down, dooooown the veiny length of his shaft- until it ends up at the unruly tufts of pink at his base.
His tattooed base.
One more ring around his hilt, and next to that—you gasp.
“Oh…oh my god.” Without a second thought, you’re leaning in to get a closer look at that irritated patch of skin next to Sukuna’s v-line. And if your eyes weren’t deceiving you - that part of his skin had a swirling black calligraphy of none other than your fucking name on him. “Don’t tell me you’ve-”
“I did.”
You gape up at him, “Ryomen Sukuna, you’re fucking crazy-”
“I know.” He shivers as you reach out to touch it. Sukuna was fully unclothed now and prowling towards you on the bed, like a predator closing in on his prey. “But I couldn’t just name that pussy of yours ‘Ryo’s pussy’ and not contribute my part, too, could I? I had to show my dedication too, mama.”
“But putting it permanently on your skin-”
“Is the best decision I’ve ever made.”
You knew there was no talking him out of it, and Sukuna’s eagerly smoothing his calloused palm on top of your stomach. Caressing you. Drinking you in with his eyes.
Flipping you onto your stomach once more-
“Now face down, ass up- I wanna fuck my girl right.”
You’re barely managing to let your sweaty scalp hit your pillow before Sukuna suddenly has his obtuse tip squeezed between your pussylips and pushing and pushing—
“Oh—” Your eyes are scrunching as tight as they could close, and the only thing you can do is utterly melt into Sukuna’s carnal desire. You don’t think you’d ever get used to his sheer size. “Oh my god- oh my fucking- ngh, I always love h-how you feel-”
“For now-” And it’s a damn miracle that the man could speak - especially when your tender walls were squeezing him like that. “F-for now just pretend it’s the first time.”
Did he just stutter? What was he even…“Wh-what- oh.” You’re being shut up by Sukuna’s rugged, ravenous tip once more. He’s swabbing every treacly spot of your insides without even trying - simply just attempting to fit and fit and fit—
“Just- hah- just pretend s’the first time.” He kisses his lips to his teeth, both clammy hands plastered onto the side of your hips to help him funnel his massive cock inside.
His flared slit lodges against the roof of your cunt, and you’re arching just so beautifully into him- that he can’t help but lean down and bite at the side of your throat. Humming in satisfaction at the way the marking is just covered by his hoodie, it gives him the courage he needs to say those next few words. “Pretend s’just you and I. Pretend s’our first time- ngh.”
“You mean to say—oh.” You’re dizzy on the way his honed tip was perfectly opening up your hidden spots, and every time he’s reeling his hips back it’s just a constant back and forth. “Don’t think I even knew I had a spot there…”
“Good- good, jus’ like that.” He grunts out, holding you even tighter to his muscular body. “Pretend s’like we’ve never fucked before. You’re my girl- always have been. M’your Ryo- always have been. Always will be.”
“A-always will be-”
“And right now s’our first time, I’ve never fucked you before- oh, forget about all those fucking times in my room and in the car.” He whispers out, something desperate cracking primally at the back of his throat as he eases his way inside. “S’our time now—and I get to finally, finally fuck you as mine.”
All his.
And you’re finding that when Sukuna’s fucking you as just his…it means he’s so much more ravenous than you’ve ever known him to be.
So much more ruined.
So much more out-of-control—
It’s like he’s truly realized his full potential. “Since yer mine I get to- hah! stop you from running from my cock whenever I like.” Hauling you down like a ragdoll with both hands on your waist, you shrill at the slamming contact of his hips against your hips. His thighs against the backs of your thighs. His large cockhead against your ready cunt. “I get to fuck you raw for the first time. I get to fuck you so much- s-so fucking much n’ I don’t even have to worry about the marks I leave.”
“What marks?”
A slam so hard that you swear you can feel the globular end of his shaft right near your throat—“These marks.”
And you’re almost about to repeat your question in search of an answer once more- before you’re realizing what exactly Sukuna means.
Marks.
The marks he was leaving on every gooey orifice inside your cunt, on the globes of your ass being pummeled by his hips, on the sides of your body under the mercy of his grip.
Using that very same grip, he’s folding you on all fours underneath him. Tighter and tighter. Closer and closer to his hulking body. Before your muddled brain can register it, Sukuna’s reaching over his meaty right leg to plant right on top of your sweaty scalp.
Yes—on top.
The heel of his foot ends up on your head, and your eyes snap open in- perhaps shock, perhaps at the sheer audacity of him. You jolt.
“Ah ah-” The only thing you hear before one of his hands clasp ‘round the cottony fabric of your hoodie and tugs it down - it seems that your sudden lurching movement had made his uniform bunch up by your head.
And the famed wrestler wasn’t just bringing it down to take a good look at your pretty self. No—he was also bringing it down to read the name - his name - emblazoned across your back and jostling to and fro while you were being fucked by his ruthless hips. “Theeeeere we go, gotta rep the name, mama. Especially the first time.”
“Rep the set? You’re already fucking me- ngh, senseless.”
“And yet I already get to have you- fuck, wear this f’me. My girl. My lovely, lovely girl.” His toned figure leans down and he’s sloppily kissing at the name.
His name—fuck, how he loved this position. That was why he’d purposefully chosen it, to have his name peak up at him as he ploughed himself into you like a madman. Grunting out once your sopping lips squeeze him at the stretch, “The girl with my- hck! last name-”
“Ryo!”
“Whoops- too soon?” He doesn’t even sound the least bit regretful. And you can’t even answer, because then he’s only fucking your surprised whines out of you, “Mmm, and don’t forget that I also get to do- heh, this.” And as if it was even possible, his vicious hips accelerate their tempo against you. “I get to do whaaaatever I want with my girl’s pretty pussy- ah, apologies, my pretty pussy just to fit my thick cock inside.”
“I-inside-” You mindlessly babble out, “Want it inside-”
“Yeah? Want it all the way until my tattoo? Never been fucked like this before, have ya?”
Well, he has fucked you like this before. But that coherent part of you realizes that that wasn’t exactly the answer that Sukuna wanted right now—“No- no, never. You’re the first to fuck me like this, Ryo, mmm.”
“Good.”
Whether he was praising you for keeping up with his conversation - or whether he was praising you for taking his cock until he’s bottoming out - you’re not quite sure. Either way, the curly pink hairs at his base finally reach your folds—and they scritch-scratch at your pussy in such a carnal way you never knew you needed.
As he’s fully inside of you, the wrestling superstar hunches his entire body over and shivers. And pants. And throbs his entire length deeply inside of you in a way that makes your head pound with a rapid ba-thump! Ba-thump! Ba-thump!
“H-here….” One of his hands lifts off of your hip to caress down the front of your stomach. Sukuna feels for where his swollen tip was pulsating against your womb, and presses doooown against that lil’ bump. “S’my first time kissin’ my girl over here, isn’t it?”
“It- it is—”
And Sukuna truly is fucking you like it’s the first time - he’s fucking you like he’s angrier he didn’t have you earlier, he’s fucking you like he’s making up for all the lost time.
Just roughened, piercing bashes against your g-spot- he doesn’t even have to try to locate that bruised n’ battered little area on your channel. The rounded orifice of it gets pummeled by his shaft, and you’re seeing stars due to the sheer pressure of him. “It feels so- ngh- fuck.” You could barely even string together a sentence, head feeling all airy.
“Feels soooo—?”
“I don’t- I don’t even…” He doesn’t even have to be fully inside to let his curvaceous tip poke into your cervix. Purposefully angling his hips, Sukuna’s rub-a-dubbing the door to your womb with his puckered tip. “Th-think m’cockdrunk, Ryo.”
And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the way that his rude cadence seemed to stutter. “C-cockdrunk?”
Nodding through your tears, “I am, I am—oh.”
But of course, never let Ryomen Sukuna be known as the man that doesn’t take care of his cockdrunk partner.
Never.
Because in a split-second, he’s lifting his rude foot off of your head and you jolt at the sudden rush of blood to your scalp. “Oh- oh my…”
Only mere moments of mercy before you feel your entire limp body be hoisted off of the mattress.
Your eyes damn-near bulge out of your scalp, and you’re flailing at the feeling before- “Shhh, shh sh- be a good girl f’me before you make me put that foot atop your head again, mama.” Sukuna grunts, and suddenly you’re feeling one of his strong arms look around your neck.
You could feel all those developed biceps of his bulging against your throat once Sukuna cradles your neck and squeeeeezes. Spittle flowing out of you and down his veiny forearm like a fountain, “D-did you just put me in a fucking- ngh, headlock?!”
“Mhm.” He shows absolutely no remorse, “And I don’t hear her complaining.”
In fact, he could only hear the most sopping wet squelches emanating from your cunt.
And so Sukuna keeps holding you in this treacherous headlock whilst he’s pummeling you from behind. All those veiny inches of his cock being slurped right up between your pussy lips. Again. And again. And again and again and again—
It feels like hours have passed before you’re jolting at the sudden feeling of Sukuna’s warm fingertips slithering down between your sheeny legs once more. Your clit throbs like it’d missed his touch- and never one to leave you wanting more anymore, he’s twisting his rugged fingers on the nub.
Letting the patterned edges of his digits start twistin’ and turning that swollen knob in his hand. Your cunt squelches out a wet splash of slick at the sudden pleasure, “I-it just feels so good-”
“I know.” Sukuna hums, all smug with himself. “She’s told me- heh, think about thaaaat—I get ta speak with her for the first time tonight.” Before you can say anything else, he dips his head down to look at your cunt from underneath you and coos. “Hey, girlie, how are ya~?”
“Y-you’re unbelievable-” And yet he’s rovering his thumb all over your clit in a way that just has you gasping for more, and your cunt squelching out even louder.
“Mmm, m’doing good, thanks for asking.” He continues…a fucking conversation with your pussy. And at your widened stare, he shrugs. “What? M’only having a chat with- hah, my pussy. Wha’s wrong with that?”
“N-nothing…” You suppose.
“Exactly.” And then he times the ministrations of his thick thumb just right to roll over your clit in synchronization with his cock. You’re feeling one incredible thud! at your g-spot, and then you’re feeling another drag on your clit. This time…a pattern that you’re finding strangely familiar- “Can you spell, mama?”
“Are you asking—” Smack! A rude spank on your cunt, “F-fuck…”
“Apologies ‘bout that. S’my first time with you, remember? And I hafta get to know you. Get to do this.” He hums, and it’s not to you anymore. He’s completely and utterly devoted to keeping all his concentration on giving your pussy the utmost pleasure possible - from two different places of origin. “So about that spelling—”
“Fuck, Ryo, what are you trying to…”
This time, he’s not cutting you off. This time you’re trailing off out of your own volition, your ears listening for the sequences of letters that Sukuna calls out.
A sequence that sounds oddly familiar.
A sequence that spelled out your name.
He drag-drag-draaaaags your clit and it lets out a particularly loud lecherous sound that the larger man beams at, “Mmm, exactly. Perfect pronunciation and all- now let’s see if you can spell the rest.” And without further ado, Sukuna’s expert fingertips start outlining a different set of letters on your throbbing clit.
Making you shake with pleasure, “W-wait that spells…” Silently mouthing along.
S—he’s accelerating the thumps all the way at the back of your cervix, until you’re feeling dizzy.U—K—just the sheer amount of tears that streamed down your cheeks already told you that you were getting close to your high. U—
Your eyes widen, “Y-you’re not seriously-”
“Shhhh.”
N—but oh, he was. As if he was reading off of that sports hoodie on your back. And he was letting you tremble uncontrollably in the aftermath of his constant strikes and thumps at your greedy orifice, drilling into you with a hunger that never satiates. A hunger that tells you he’s wanted to do this for a long, long time. A—
You whisper what exactly it spelled out.
Your name, with the last name of-
“-Sukuna.” The man himself finishes off, before leaning down to leer at your drivelling cunt. The very same that was slurping and squelching away maddeningly at your gushing slick—“S’gonna be your name very soon, my girl.”
You don’t quite know which one of you he’s talking to - you or your pussy.
But you don’t quite care at this moment, either. Because in almost no time, you’re bursting into your nth high of the night - it’s no longer simply your second anymore.
Because as soon as you’re crashing into the white-hot wave of your second, you’re plummeting into your third. Your fourth. Your fifth. Seemingly dragged out of you as if it was oh-so-easy by none other than Sukuna’s ruthless cock.
You shake as it explodes through you, harder than any other orgasm you’ve experienced in your entire life.
Toes curling.
Lashes staining with tears.
The only thing you can do is arch your back into Sukuna’s sculptured one and let him thoroughly bash you through your zaps of euphoria. Over and over.
He lets his veiny shaft glide down your gooey insides, caressing every inch of you that seemed to explode with pleasure any time he was pistoning into you. “Yeah-” He grunts, feeling you uncontrollably clench around him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah- cum around my cock, sweetheart. Only around my cock—” His headlock on you tightens, “-got it?”
“Got it-” You babble out stupidly, your cheek slipping along the sheen of saliva you’d created on his forearm. “I got it, I got it- but…”
One pink brow raises, “But…?”
“But I also want you to do o-one thing f’me.”
He nuzzles the crook of your neck, “Anything.”
“Cum inside?”
And, well, Sukuna did say ‘anything’—didn’t he?
Because with a few more vulgar thrusts, the infamous frat leader is tipping his head back and emptying himself out inside you. You could feel the way that his thiiick balls clench from behind you, each of those wadded webs of ivory sap being poured out into you.
Each and every single one.
Stuffed and stuffed inside of you.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you take in the second skin that he’s layering on top of your insides. Something so warm and filthy feeling heavy inside of your orifice—fuck, you’re discovering that a primal part of you loved the feeling.
It sploshes! out into your deepest depths and create a lil’ puddle that you can feel even at your cervix. Just swirled around by his thickened tip, “C-cumming—” The man rasps out, voice botched with a primal sort of hoarseness. He stutters as he cums. He shakes as he cums. Crimson eyes shuttering at the most blissful feeling in the world, spurting his seed inside your needy pussy. “And then there’s that- hah! I get to cum inside you for the f-first time…”
And it really was the first time he was filling you up like this. All the way up to the brim and fucking those pearly beads of cum right back inside you, “Kinda- ngh, always wan’ you to cum inside me.”
He pecks the side of your temple, hips still shifting filthily. “Hey then we’re gonna have a- mmm, mini-Sukuna before you’re even Mrs. Sukuna, girlie.”
“M-maybe I don’t mind…” Bucking your hips back into his for more friction.
“Talkin’ outta that pussy, I see.”
With yet another sudden spank! on top of your sultry folds, you’re being flipped over once more and stuffed right back up to your womb with Sukuna’s thickened inches. All of them shoved right up until you can feel them at your very throat- “We might have to dumbify her too, I’m afraid.”
“S’gonna be a long night.” You’re commenting with a shiver.
Sukuna grins, “How’d you spell ‘the first of many’?”
.
.
.
The tournament was in an uproar by the time you’re running into the stands.
Well, more bowing and apologizing as you scramble to your seat past rows of other supporters- but you stand by it nonetheless. You’re letting out a pant of relief as you finally plop unceremoniously down onto the only empty chair in the stands, placing down your bag and pulling on the collar of Sukuna’s wrestling hoodie in an attempt to fan yourself.
“You’re late, my dear.” Utahime hisses from the row behind you, flipping off the middle-aged man that grumbles at her.
“I know, I’m sorry!” You whisper back - ah, so that’s where they were. A few more rows behind her were some of the Curses Epsilon brothers - including Choso - that you had been starting to get to know, little by little. They wave happily at you and you wave back with a grin. You’d been wanting to get seats next to all of them, but it seems they’d filled up faster than you’d hoped.
At the very least you were lucky to have your friends so close by you, and you’re shooting them an apologetic smile - after all, you were the one that’d bugged your two best friends to join you watching Sukuna’s wrestling match. You mouth, “Whole story. Explain later.”
“Traffic?” Shoko asks from next to your purple-haired friend, looking up from her anatomy textbook. For what reason she had that, you weren’t quite sure…and you weren’t brave enough to ask, either.
Choosing the short story, you’re nodding at her suggestion.
You’d run all the way here, truth be told.
Sukuna was already halfway through his final match of the tournament, one more and he’d win this collegiate title. And though a part of you was upset that you’d missed out on so much (sure, you could watch them later on the recordings, but it was the principal that counted!), it made you so-very-proud to see so many of the recruiters with their eyes locked on Sukuna and Sukuna only.
Your boyfriend of just shy of a month.
You couldn’t blame them—fuck, you just wished you hadn’t had to wait so long at the dry cleaner’s! Apparently there had been some sort of mix-up that’d resulted in you being quite delayed while you actually waited to claim the hoodie you knew and loved too much.
Sure, it’d been slightly stained from some of last nights…activties (somewhat of a good luck ritual, he claimed, though you knew what he really wanted to do was fuck you in the hoodie with his name), but beloved nonetheless!
Anyways—after falling behind your schedule, you’d been hit by traffic, and then there was the issue of actually trying to navigate the stadium, and then- well, here you were!
Evidently, it seems that Sukuna is sensing the same thing.
Because in the middle of an ankle lock, Sukuna’s crimson eyes flick upwards towards the stands- and they’re meeting yours instantly.
A charged tension only the two of you could feel.
Squirming slightly in your seat at the intensity of his stare, his realization, you give him a wave.
In mere split-seconds, Sukuna has the other man slammed down onto the floor and his sweaty body struggling to even move. You cheer, that had to have at least been two points.
“We’re lucky you’re here, my dear.” Utahime leans down to whisper to you. “You won’t believe what that boyfriend of yours was like before the game- moping around, calling you, staring longingly at his phone wallpaper of you—eugh! I didn’t even know that a man of that size and strength could act like a lost puppy.” She shudders.
Shoko states plainly, “What she means to say is that your boyfriend missed you.”
And you’re just about to open your mouth to answer- when right beside you, a jittery voice speaks up.
“P-pardon me.” The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the man that’d been seated to your left, you hadn’t paid much attention to him considering the frantic state you’d been in when you first got here. “Did you say ‘boyfriend’?”
And now, you almost wished you did.
Because the man beside you looked exactly like Sukuna only…softer. Quieter. Calmer. With an air about him that told you that perhaps he was the type that grew up with quite a bit of responsibility. He wore a sweater with the shapes of some marine animals sewn into it. He didn’t have any of Sukuna’s tattoos or the chiselled look of a recent athlete or the gruffness he wore like a cloak - but the resemblance was uncanny.
The bespectacled man adjusts his glasses and your jaw drops—this must be his older brother that he told you so much about! “You must be his girlfriend that he’s told me so much about.”
“Y-yes!” You snap out of your little reverie at his words, and you’re immediately reaching out your hand for a handshake. “You must be his older brother, Jin?”
Jin pulls you in for a hug, sighing out against you. “Thank you so much for taking care of him.”
“No- not at all! The pleasure’s all mine, and he’s the one that takes care of me most of the time.” You’re sheepishly admitting, “Thank you for taking care of him all this time, I know he looks up at you so much.”
The other pink-haired man blushes, scratching behind his neck. “W-well I wouldn’t say that…” He glances to his left, “Oh! And silly me- I forgot to introduce you to our father.”
You’re beaming at the gruff old man seated next to Jin, a furrow between his brows that you could’ve recognized anywhere on his younger son. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”
The introductions between you and Sukuna’s family go swimmingly (if there was a wrestling alternative then you’d have said it), and you’re finding that they were the absolute sweetest. Jin was soft and compassionate, the polar opposite of Sukuna and yet so similar to him at his deepest core. Wasuke was more like Sukuna on the outside, and you swear you could feel your sides splitting at the quips he’d comment about his son while you all watched the match.
Eventually, the three of you along with your friends in the latter rows are chatting up so much of a storm that you almost don’t notice—“He’s about to win.”
At the sound of your voice, the rest of your group looks over at the ringed boundaries of the match.
Instantly, you’re all up on your feet and cheering at the top of your lungs.
All of you.
Jin and Wasuke.
Shoko and Utahime.
The Curses Epsilon boys.
You.
And when Ryomen Sukuna finally defeats his tough opponent, you can’t decide which one of you cheered the loudest.
But what you do know is that he’s sauntering up past the boundary the minute his win is announced - all sweat-streaked and spitting out his mouth guard, all panting and toned with his muscles, all uncaring whether or not his coach is talking to him right now.
He doesn’t care
He doesn’t care.
Sukuna’s breaking into a sprint once he sees you getting off the stands—and scoops you into his arms whilst you yelp in delight.
You knew you must look such a sight, you and this hulking man.
You feel him bury his face into the crook of your neck, whispering. “Could you all have been any louder?” And you could feel the way his face burns against your skin.
“What- the King of the Court fan club?” You’re innocently questioning, “Yes, that is our name and you can thank Jin for that. And no, we don’t show signs of stopping any time soon- we actually plan on expanding to the rest of the campus by the end of semester-”
He peeks up at the group behind you, here just for him - his brother and father, your friends, his fraternity brothers - and groans. And you can only laugh.
“You all are insufferable.” Sukuna says, baritone dramatically pained. “Especially you.”
PERVERTED ROOMMATE! GOJO watching geto suguru fuck roommate! reader through the tiny crack of the door 𓏲˚ ۪ ❤︎⊹.
contents: 18+, Afab!Fem! Reader, Roommates, Male masturbation, Pwp, Creep gojo?
The door isn’t shut. Not all the way. There is a sliver of light, a golden needle piercing the dark of the hallway. Gojo is pressed against the wood, one blue eye glued to the tiny crack, breath held so tight it’s a physical ache in his lungs.
He sees you and Suguru—A guy rumoured to half slept with half of the female population. Gojo can see the sweat glistening on Suguru’s back, those broad shoulders rolling as he drives himself forward into your weeping pussy. You’re sprawled out, hair a mess against the sheets, legs locked around his waist. Every time you move, the view shifts, giving Gojo a fresh, torturous glimpse of skin meeting skin.
His hand is down his pants, working his creamy tip with a fast rhythmic desperation that’s turning his palm slick. Gojo, a boy pampered from the minute of his birth, Gojo the esteemed son of a wealthy family, Gojo—the one who’s supposed to have everything. Has turned into nothing but a perverted voyeur, shivering in the shadows of a hallway as he peeks on his pretty roommate, stealing what wasn't meant for him.
"Suguru, please," you gasp, and the sound of your voice —shredded and needy—sends a spike of white-hot heat straight to Gojo’s gut.
He’s thumbing the needy tip of his cock faster now. Friction burning. His heart is a trapped bird slamming against his ribs. Gojo watches Suguru’s hand move, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you head back to expose a vulnerable throat Gojo’s spent months wanting to bite. Gojo’s imagines it’s his hand. Gojo’s imagining those eyes—the ones he can see through the crack, glazed and dark with heat—are looking at him instead.
The bedframe creaks under the weight of you both and the pace turns violent and messy. Suguru’s voice drops into a low, command-heavy rumble, something private and filthy whispered right into your ear, and Gojo nearly loses it right there. His knees feel like water. He’s leaning into the door, the wood cool against his forehead while his cock is twitching and on the verge of blowing a thick load onto the wooden hallway floor.
Gojo watches the way your back arches, the way Suguru buries his face in the crook of your neck, his body tensing into a rigid cord of muscle.
Gojo’s hit the wall a second later, teeth clamped down on his knuckles to swallow the choked, pathetic noise he’s making. Gojo’s coming undone in the dark, white liquid sperm spraying like ribbons. He’s spent and shaking, watching through that tiny, cruel gap as you and suguru collapse into each other. Gojo’s left a ghost in the hall. A ghost with a soiled hand and a mess he has to clean up.
