dean di laurentis x fem!reader x allie hayes
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you bask in the affection of your best friends—
𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: 18+ mdni; smut!!; p in v ; no protection was used ;> ; fingering; lemme know if i missed any!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.6k
𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲: just a lil drabble of pure porn!. . .enjoy!
A wet squelch echoes across the thick and heady air of Allie’s dorm when Dean pulls his cock out of her puffy cunt, the combination of both your fingers rubbing at her soft clit and Dean’s lazy thrusting had pulled three orgasms out of her already, leaving her head fuzzy and her trembling hands clinging around your clammy waist.
Dean let out a breath at the sight before his hands grasped your ankle, spreading your already dripping pussy and shoving his cock in one unrushed thrust. He didn’t even bother hiding the groan that vibrated from his chest, almost draping his body over yours just to get closer to your warmth.
Your breathy “mnghh—” went muffled, swallowed by Allie’s lips as her tongue languidly danced with your own. Her fingers drag against your warm skin, cupping your breast and softly tracing your areola, causing goosebumps around the sensitive skin.
“Doin’ so good for us, baby…” she murmured against you, adjusting herself so her lips could reach your forehead. You whimpered at the contact, burying your head into her chest while your body bounced softly from Dean’s thrusts. “You waited so patiently, yeah?”
The thickness of Dean’s fingers was nothing compared to his cock—it was thick and heavy, reaching deeper depths that you never thought existed within you. The slow pace that he was digging into your body made it even more obvious—making you feel every ridge of his cock.
Allie waited for Dean to agree with her, only to look up at the man and see him drooling against your ankle, brows scrunched softly, basking at the feel of your soft velvet walls. He was completely gone; moans spilling freely from his open mouth as his tongue lolled out.
The sight was enough to undo her. Watching her boyfriend completely lose his mind inside her best friend’s pussy had her clit throbbing as though it had its own heart.
You keened when she chuckled lowly, mouth parting in search of hers, never closing even as she ignored you. Her arm that draped beneath your neck stretched until she could twist your nipple between her thumb and index as the other cupped Dean’s jaw.
Your muffled hearing could barely pick up your moans, let alone Dean’s slurping when Allie got him out of his head.
“Baby…” she whispered, a subtle scolding in her tone. “We’re s’pposed to be taking care of her, remember?”
Dean mumbled a response, shaking his head lightly to focus at the sight beneath him—and it almost made him come.
Your hazy eyes were darting between looking up at him and Allie, completely glazed and shot as quiet “ah’s” slipped from your lips with his every thrust. You looked completely wrecked in Allie’s arms, melting with her every touch—letting out a broken moan when the woman’s fingers parted your folds before circling your puffy nub.
Dean watched as your leaden hand copied Allie’s movements, only this time, you shoved two fingers into her still hot entrance, making her moan. His grip tightens on your hip, almost losing himself again—cock swelling inside your warmth.
You feel him twitch inside your cunt when your parted mouth reveals your tongue reaching for Allie’s nipple, closing around the fat flesh. You revel at the moan she let out—at the wetness that coated your fingers when you did so, throat muscles working at sucking and keeping her tit in your mouth.
She slumped against you once more, fingers still languidly working your bundle of nerves—still twisting your nipple between her fingers.
You keep your fingers buried in her pussy, keeping their mixed juices intact, even as you feel her start to doze off against you. Dean thrusts hard—a knee-jerk reaction to the sight, and it caused a choked moan out of you, the hand that wasn’t inside Allie pawing at his chest.
“Please—” you needed him closer; to be sandwiched between their warmth properly—suffocate you for all you care. You’ve never felt this much pleasure from sex before and there’s no way you won’t drag it out.
And thankfully, he obliged, letting you pull him in by wrapping your leg around the small of his back, forcing him further into you, cock kissing that spongy spot deep in you.
“Oh—ohfuuu—hah!” he cried out, temple against Allie’s—moaning right against her ear, though she never woke up, only nuzzling more into your combined touch in her sleep, even as your own groan vibrated against her breast.
Dean’s hand gripped the sheets above you helplessly, thrusts growing faster and sloppier simultaneously. His other hand shot up from its grip on your hip to cup your cheek, forcing your mouth off Allie’s chest and slotting his mouth against yours, ignoring your pained whine at the loss of his girlfriend’s flesh.
He swallows each whimper that helplessly leaves you with each thrust, groaning when your wet muscle meets his own. Your back arches when the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, forcing an angle that would likely bruise it—you didn’t care. Not when his sweaty chest graze your nipples with every hump, veins burning with each brush.
Dean’s lips never part from yours, whispering “Goo—good fucking gir—” in between breaths, forehead pressed firmly against your own furrowing one.
You could feel the tight rope in your belly unravelling. His breathless and choked groans a sharp edge to the already burning sensation that seeped through your bones.
He was moaning—a melting whimper, really—as though he’d been deprived of your pussy for so long. Like his girlfriend wasn’t sleeping next to you, like you didn’t have two fingers shoved deep in her cunt that kept in motion with his thrusts—like you didn’t always end up like this whenever you had the chance to.
His thrusts, once lazy and pounding, were now deduced to a melting sloppy humping. Dean couldn’t bear being apart from your warm skin. Not the stickiness that spread across his pelvis and dripped down his thighs from your arousal, nor your limbs keeping him firm against you—nails digging into the tacky skin of his back before it held him against you by his ass.
You let out a choked gasp when you parted from him, but you didn’t let him get far, fingers claiming the hair on his nape and keeping his forehead against yours, your other hand unmoving from Allie’s cunt.
“Dean—hah-please…” you plead. For what? You aren’t sure. Thankfully, he did.
The loss of contact was brief, only necessary so he doesn’t faceplant while trying to adjust you hips higher against his, the angle change, somehow, had him sinking into you more—like your pussy was stretching just to accommodate his neediness.
Every grind of his hips caused the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub against your clit, eliciting a high pitched moan from you that you would’ve felt embarrassed of had it not been them you were between of.
You feel his hips stutter, huffed out whimpers slipping from his lips as it falters against yours. Your fingers met in a fist in his tresses, trying to pull him back when he leaned away, but he was determined.
Dean wanted to watch you fall apart on his cock, not for his ego, but for the sight of you being at your most vulnerable. He’d seen you come apart plenty of times before but something about tonight felt more exposed than the rest.
Maybe it’s how openly he’s fucking you as his girlfriend sleeps next to you, or maybe it was your clinging to Allie earlier—just as lost as he was in you despite just thrusting into you.
Maybe, maybe it was how you waited so patiently for your turn, making Allie come enough times for her to doze off, sticking to you like glue.
It didn’t matter what it was, all that mattered was that the way your face scrunched and then softened as bliss shot through your entire body, momentarily consumed by the white that flashed behind your eyes, chest pressed against his as a silent moan wracked through your body.
You felt Dean’s groan vibrate against your chest, his hips thrusting once, then twice before holding his hips flush against yours, swollen tip bursting ropes of cum and flooding your walls white.
Dean let a out a breath that melted into a whine, forehead coming down to rest against your chest as his hips continued a circular motion, drawing out your high.
It was only when you whined in overstimulation did he let up, though he still kept himself inside you, forehead moving from your chest to the crook of your neck, parallel to where Allie’s head now rested.
You finally remove your fingers from Allie’s entrance, indifferent to your now pruney fingers as you took a digit into your mouth, tasting her essence. The hum you let out alerted the man who was just about to fall asleep, making him whine and open his mouth in permission.
Not wasting a second, you pressed your soaked fingers against his waiting tongue, thumb playfully booping his flushed nose when he immediately wrapped his lips around your flesh.
A breath leaves your chest when you settle against their shared warmth, relishing the skin-to-skin contact that they, despite their unconscious state, seem to seek habitually. Dean’s weight acted like a heated blanket—one that kept you warm from the inside out with his cock—a complete contrast to Allie’s soft comforting skin that made you shiver whenever she nuzzled further into your skin.
It was dangerous to stay—even more dangerous to get used to their affections—but for now, you’ll give yourself grace. And Allie and Dean were both grateful that you did.
💌 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞:
wrote this in a day. . .while my other wips drown in the sea😝
thinking about cowboy!clark kent talking you through riding him in his awfully charming southern drawl.
"yeah, there ya' go, honey," he's guiding your hips on his cock with big, warm, calloused hands heavy on your skin, his tip hitting that sweet spot inside you with each bounce.
there's an obvious bulge in your tummy from just how big he is, disappearing and reappearing with every shift of your hips.
"ohgod–" you choke out a whine, resting your sweaty forehead on his broad shoulder, letting him do most of the work by manually moving your hips. "s'big, clark" you bite down on his shoulder, his salty skin coating your tongue. that pulls a groan from him, he's rubbing the fat of your ass tenderly.
"i know, baby. i know" he's so loving, so incredibly doting that you can't help but cry out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him as his cock nearly splits you open.
"feels good though, don't it?" he drawls, gripping the hair on your head gently and pulling your face from the crook of his neck so he can pepper reverent kisses on your flushed, damp skin. "my pretty baby, jus' want t'make you feel good" he coos, head lolling back as your pussy flutters around him in response to his sweet words.
"fuck, clark" your face twists in pleasure, limbs turning into puddles as you feel that knot in your gut tightening impossibly. greedy hands roam his body, your fingertips running over his tanned arms and squeezing at his biceps. "m'close" you breathe out, looking down and literally moaning at the sight of the creamy white ring at the base of clark's member.
"i know it, sweet girl. can feel ya' milkin' me" he shakes his head, huffing a chuckle that shifts into a groan as you dig your manicured nails into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks in your wake. he doesn't mind when you mark him up, if anything it makes him twitch inside of you.
his balls tighten up, heavy with cum as you grind down on him a few last times before your orgasm washes over you, leaving you moaning whorishly into his skin as he fucks up into you. "aw, there ya go, s'good h-honey, love you, sweetheart" he praises you for cumming, as if he didn't just do all of the work. "claaark" you breathe out, collapsing on top of him as a post-orgasm calm washes over you.
he finishes shorty after you, as he always makes it a goal to get you to finish before him. he thrusts up into you sloppily and shoots his warm release deep inside of you, making you squirm on top of him from the strange sensation. "i know, baby, feels weird..." he groans lowly, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back.
he lets you collapse on top of him, basically a puddle from how fucked out you are. he's pressing little kisses to your bare shoulder every so often, making sure you're as comfortable as you can be. "did so good for me, honey." he's just the sweetest cowboy. <3
I am currently looking for more roleplay partners to cure my boredom! I’m into fandoms and double up roleplay mostly, but a 1x1 roleplay would work fine as well!
The length of my responses usually depends on how tired or busy I am. With that being said, i’m just giving a heads up that I am an insomniac. I’m either up for ungodly hours at a time, or I am asleep for the majority of the day. Just cut me some slack if my replies fall short or I don’t respond right away. Besides that, for the most part I am a fast replier.
I am big at roleplaying on Discord! I love making little servers, using tuppers, sending tik toks to fangirl over, and making text threads for the characters within the server. (I’m just extra and excited).
At this very moment in time, i’m obsessed with Off campus, so if anyone would love to pair up for a double up for the show, dm me! My discord is also in my bio and at the end of this post. I am alright with smut, and I am find with a fade to black transition!
Fandoms, oc love interests, who I can play:
Off Campus - depends on the oc I choose, can play anyone
The Vampire Diaries - Damon & Klaus, can play anyone
Outer Banks - Pope, JJ, Rafe. Can play anyone.
Sinners (modern or past) - Stack, Smoke, Bo, Remmick, Sammie. Can play anyone.
Euphoria - Rue & Elliot. Can play anyone.
Celebrity Roleplay - Belmont Cameli, Tyriq Withers, Michael B Jordan, and more. I can play anyone celebrity for you if I know them well!
There are more fandoms, but I can’t think of them at the moment. Like this post for me to dm you, or like stated before just dm me on your own on discord or on tumblr! hope to meet some new peeps!
I am currently looking for more roleplay partners to cure my boredom! I’m into fandoms and double up roleplay mostly, but a 1x1 roleplay would work fine as well!
The length of my responses usually depends on how tired or busy I am. With that being said, i’m just giving a heads up that I am an insomniac. I’m either up for ungodly hours at a time, or I am asleep for the majority of the day. Just cut me some slack if my replies fall short or I don’t respond right away. Besides that, for the most part I am a fast replier.
I am big at roleplaying on Discord! I love making little servers, using tuppers, sending tik toks to fangirl over, and making text threads for the characters within the server. (I’m just extra and excited).
At this very moment in time, i’m obsessed with Off campus, so if anyone would love to pair up for a double up for the show, dm me! My discord is also in my bio and at the end of this post. I am alright with smut, and I am find with a fade to black transition!
Fandoms, oc love interests, who I can play:
Off Campus - depends on the oc I choose, can play anyone
The Vampire Diaries - Damon & Klaus, can play anyone
Outer Banks - Pope, JJ, Rafe. Can play anyone.
Sinners (modern or past) - Stack, Smoke, Bo, Remmick, Sammie. Can play anyone.
Euphoria - Rue & Elliot. Can play anyone.
Celebrity Roleplay - Belmont Cameli, Tyriq Withers, Michael B Jordan, and more. I can play anyone celebrity for you if I know them well!
There are more fandoms, but I can’t think of them at the moment. Like this post for me to dm you, or like stated before just dm me on your own on discord or on tumblr! hope to meet some new peeps!
After a tragic accident erased your memories, you no longer remember the man you married. Unfortunately for you, Ryomen Sukuna remembers everything. And he'll do whatever it takes to make you remember him too.
Everything was so much weird.
When you first opened your eyes, the world was a blur of harsh lights and a rhythmic, annoying beep that made your head throb. A crowd of people were hovering over your bed, their faces twisted into expressions of pure horror and desperation. It felt like they were looking at a ghost or maybe a god that had suddenly fallen from the sky. The moment you blinked and stared back at them with blank, unrecognizing eyes, the room dissolved into quiet, breathless weeping.
You were completely utterly lost. Who was the woman with the dark circles under her eyes calling herself Shoko? Why was she gripping your hand like her entire world was ending? You knew your own name y/n echoed clearly in the empty caverns of your mind, but beyond that single fact, there was only a vast, terrifying void. You understood the modern world. you knew what a smartphone was, you recognized the concept of Wi-Fi, and when you mumbled those details, the doctors in the room let out collective, gasping sighs of relief.
But the real shock came twenty minutes later.
The heavy door to the hospital room burst open with a violent slam. A man lunged inside like a madman, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. You had never seen anyone look like him. His hair was a soft, striking shade of pastel pink so pretty and unexpected that you wondered for a fleeting second if he had dyed it just to stand out. Dark, intricate tattoos mapped across his skin, curling around his sharp cheekbones and framing his eyes. And those eyes... they were a piercing, burning red, swirling with a volatile mixture of terrifying rage and profound, shattering sadness.
You just sat there in your oversized, faded blue hospital gown, looking small and fragile as your confused gaze met his. The man froze, roughly brushing a strand of pink hair out of his face. His clothes were covered in a layer of grey dust and dried grit, looking as though he had sprinted straight off a construction site the second he got the news.
"Fucking... God. Hey, princess... fuck, don't you ever scare me like that again" he breathed, his deep, gravelly voice cracking as he took two massive strides toward your bedside, staring down at you with a desperation that made the air feel heavy.
You shrank back into the pillows, your brow furrowing. Princess? Were you in some bizarre historical simulation? Did kings and horses still exist? No, the blinking medical monitors around you disproved that immediately.
"Mr. Sukuna, please. I need to speak with you in private for a moment" a woman in her mid forties interrupted, her expression incredibly grave as she stepped between you and the huge man. She glanced at the other people lingering by the door. There was a teenage boy, maybe sixteen, who had the exact same pink hair as the tattooed man, his face streaked with tears. Beside him stood another boy with unruly, spiky black hair and a dull, stoic expression that couldn't quite hide the anxiety in his eyes. At the doctor's quiet command, they all slowly filed out into the hallway.
Left alone for a moment, you stared at the stark white walls, the untouched glass of water on the bedside table, and the crushing, dull monotony of the room.
When the door clicked open again, the female physician returned, holding a thick medical chart. The tattooed man followed closely behind her. He tried to offer you a small, reassuring smile, but it looked incredibly strained on his rugged face. His crimson eyes locked onto you, tracking every breath you took as if you might literally vanish into thin air if he dared to look away for a single second.
"Hello, y/n. I am Dr. Jennifer" the woman said kindly, stepping up to the mattress. "Do you know why you were brought here today?"
You frowned, looking between her and the towering man. "No."
The syllable was short and hollow. Beside the doctor, Sukuna’s entire frame stiffened. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered violently beneath his tattoos, his knuckles turning white as he balled his hands into fists.
"Right. But you do remember your name?" she pressed gently.
"Yes... y/n I am Y/N." you answered firmly. You knew the name belonged to you, even if the history attached to it was completely gone.
"And do you know where you are right now?"
"A hospital?"
"Correct" Dr. Jennifer nodded, opening the document in her hands. "Look, I am going to explain exactly what happened, and I need you to listen very carefully, alright?" You gave a small, hesitant nod. "You were in a severe accident yesterday evening. You were walking home from the local market when a car veered off the road and hit you. It is a miracle you walked away with minor physical injuries, but the trauma to your head has caused a severe case of retrograde amnesia. Honestly, it's a surprise you even remember your name right now."
You let out a quiet hum, your eyes drifting down to your own hands resting on the thin blanket. That was when you noticed it a slender, platinum band set with a brilliant, flawlessly cut diamond resting securely on your left ring finger. It looked incredibly expensive, classy, and entirely foreign
So you were married.
"Y/n" Dr. Jennifer’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You snapped your head up to look at her. "This man standing beside me... he is your husband."
The doctor tilted her head toward the giant. He was massive easily over six feet of raw, intimidating muscle, his tattooed face giving him a terrifying, dangerous aura. Your very first instinctual thought was that this man looked incredibly scary.
Sukuna didn't say a word. He just stood there, letting you analyze him, before he offered you a tiny, incredibly vulnerable nod. You tilted your head, staring into his intense red eyes, desperately searching for a single spark of familiarity. Did I really marry this giant?
"His name is Ryomen Sukuna, and he is going to take care of you" the doctor continued, closing her chart. "For the next few weeks, you need to let your brain rest, but you also need to gently stimulate it to try and regain those lost memories. Spending time in a familiar environment, in your own home with your husband, is going to be the best medicine for you."
You nodded mutely. You didn't exactly have a choice. You were being handed over to a complete stranger who happened to hold a legal claim to your entire life.
"Alright then. I wish you a safe and speedy recovery" Dr. Jennifer said with a final, empathetic smile before slipping out of the room.
The heavy silence that followed was suffocating. Sukuna cleared his throat roughly, taking a few slow, tentative steps toward the edge of your bed. He moved with an immense amount of caution, as if he genuinely believed a sudden movement might break you into pieces. He pulled up the small plastic chair, sinking into it.
"Hey" he said softly. Even in a whisper, his voice was incredibly manly, deep, and rough.
"Hello" you replied shortly, your eyes tracking his hands.
To your surprise, his large, scarred fingers were trembling slightly as he fidgeted with them, refusing to meet your eyes. When he finally looked up, you realized the piercing red of his irises was completely glossy, swimming with unshed tears.
"Yo... you're getting discharged today" he choked out, taking a deep, ragged breath as if the mere act of speaking was causing him physical pain. "I'm going to go sign the paperwork, and then I'm taking you to... our house. I'm going to do whatever the fuck it takes to help you remember, princess."
You stared at his rugged, tattooed face for a long moment before letting out a soft, distant hum.
An hour later, you were sitting in the passenger seat of a sleek, black Jeep, The man Sukuna kept his left hand firmly on the steering wheel while his eyes flicked toward you every sixty seconds, his intense gaze making a nervous flutter erupt in your stomach.
You stared out the window, watching the city buildings, sprawling neighborhoods, and vibrant green trees blur past. Intrigued by the warm breeze, you raised your hand, pressing your palm gently against the glass as if you wanted to touch the passing leaves. Instantly, the window smoothly rolled down. Startled, you turned your head to find Sukuna adjusting the master controls, his eyes locked onto you with an unreadable warmth.
"Can I ask you something-" you murmured softly.
"Yes." The answer came incredibly fast, almost desperate. He was hanging on your every word, practically begging for you to speak to him.
"How... how did we meet?" you asked, leaning your elbow on the door frame as the wind whipped through your hair.
"We met in high school" he answered quickly, navigating a sharp turn onto a quiet, "We've been married for seven years."
"High school?" You tilted your head, a faint smile touching your lips as you extended your hand just slightly out into the rushing air. "Were we friends back then?"
"Careful" he commanded firmly, though there was no real heat in his voice. You obediently pulled your hand back inside. A faint, nostalgic softness crept into his red eyes as he looked ahead. "Friends? no. You could say we didn't liked eachother each other when we first met. You thought I was a loud, arrogant mannerless jerk and I thought you were a stubborn, bossy brat."
He smoothly pulled the Jeep into a long brick driveway, coming to a stop in front of a breathtaking, modern two story house. It was painted a crisp, elegant white with sleek charcoal-grey accents, boasting massive, floor to ceiling windows that caught the afternoon sun.
"This is...our house" Sukuna murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "We've been living here for about four years."
He killed the engine, threw his door open, and practically sprinted around the hood of the car to open your door before you could even reach for the handle. He extended a massive, tattooed hand toward you, his palm open and waiting. You stared at his hand, your eyes traveling up the thick muscles of his forearm, before you deliberately stepped down onto the driveway without taking it.
Sukuna’s hand froze in mid-air. You watched his fingers slowly curl back into a fist before he pulled his arm away, a flash of pure, agonizing heartbreak crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a stoic expression.
As your feet hit the pavement, you looked up at the towering structure, desperately begging your brain to spark even a single ounce of familiarity. Nothing came. But as you turned around, you caught a glimpse of the man standing beside you. He was on the absolute verge of tears. His chest was tight, his jaw locked as he stared at you. You were his entire world, his beautiful wife, and yet you were looking at him like he was a total stranger. He suddenly felt a wave of profound hatred for every single time he had ever been mean or stubborn with you in the past, even in jest. He just wanted his girl back. His sweet innocent girl.
"The house is beautiful" you murmured gently, walking toward the porch.
'The house.' Not our house. The detached wording made Sukuna’s jaw clench painfully.
"Of course it is. I built the damn thing" he muttered, following closely behind you.
It was your exact dream house. Years ago, back when you were just broke college students dating in a cramped apartment, you had traced a clumsy design on a napkin, telling him you wanted a modern white house with endless windows, three bedrooms, and a kitchen large enough for the two of you to bake and slow-dance together while listening to old jazz records. Sukuna had kept that napkin. The moment he made his fortune, he hired a crew but did the vast majority of the heavy structural work with his own two hands. He had gifted you the keys on your third wedding anniversary, and he could still vividly remember the way you had wept tears of joy, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him until you were both breathless. He wanted that smile back. He would give anything just to have you look at him the way you used to.
You stepped inside, ignoring the heavy emotion rolling off him. Sukuna quickly gathered your small hospital bags and followed you into the foyer, shutting the door behind him.
Your eyes immediately gravitated toward the kitchen. It was vast, open, and undeniably stunning, featuring a massive quartz island and a huge sliding glass door that opened directly into a manicured backyard garden. The entire layout felt strangely perfect.
"Let me show you... around" Sukuna offered quietly.
He spent the next half hour guiding you through the corridors of what was supposed to be your life. But as he showed you the grand master bedroompointing out the side of the bed where you used to curl into his chest every single night your face remained entirely blank. You felt a twinge of heavy guilt pooling in your stomach. He showed you the living room, drawing your attention to a collection of large, breathtaking canvas paintings hanging on the walls.
"You painted those" Sukuna noted, a faint trace of pride in his rough voice. "You're a brilliant artist, princess."
You blinked in genuine surprise, looking down at your hands. "I drew these?" You were suprised, you don't even remember touching a brush in your life. But this is your new life. New start.
"Yeah." Sukuna stopped at the edge of the hallway, looking down at you with completely bloodshot eyes. He hadn't slept a single second since the hospital called him about your accident. All he wanted to do was wrap his massive arms around your waist, pull you flush against his chest, and bury his face in your hair until the nightmare ended. But he couldn't. "Look... you can sleep in the guest bedroom down the hall, or you can take our bedroom and I'll stay in the guest room. Whatever makes you feel comfortable. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable you."
"Okay" you hummed softly.
His heart broke a little more at the compliant, distant tone. "I'll go start on some dinner, and then I'll get your medication ready. If you need a single damn thing, you just call out for me, alright? Your clothes are all in the dresser, undergarments in the top drawer, pajamas in the second..."
You nodded, offering him a polite murmur of thanks before retreating into the guest room. You changed into a simple, comfortable t-shirt and sweats. A little while later, his deep voice echoed up the stairs, announcing that dinner was ready. You walked down to the dining room, sitting at the large table like a polite houseguest waiting to be served.
"Do you need help?" Sukuna asked, carefully sliding a steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup and a large spoon toward you. You shook your head, grasping the utensil and taking a quiet sip. He sat across from you, his own bowl entirely untouched as he just stared at your face. "Y/n... you really don't remember a single damn thing about me?"
His voice cracked completely on the last word, the raw vulnerability of a ruthless man exposed right in front of you. You looked up, meeting his glossy red eyes.
"No... I don't. I'm really sorry" you whispered genuinely.
He let out a slow nod, swallowing the lump in his throat as he forced himself to look away. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault."
"Do I... do I have parents? Or friends?" you asked, a sudden curiosity about your own forgotten life bubbling up.
"Yeah. You have parents. Your father—"
"Where are they?" you interrupted quickly, leaning forward. "Do they know I was in an accident? Why aren't they here?"
"They haven't spoken to you in over seven years. Not since the day you married me" Sukuna said, his tone dropping into something cold and bitter.
"Why?"
"Your family is rich as fuck. Extremely strict, arrogant aristocrats" Sukuna explained, his red eyes locking back onto yours. "They completely forbade you from seeing me because I was just a rough, tattooed bastard from the wrong side of the tracks with a criminal record and a unstable future. They told you that if you walked out that door with me, you’d be cut off permanently."
You stared at him, a sudden spark of heat flaring in your chest. "Well, that's so stupid of them. It sounds like a good thing we don't talk to them then."
The sheer, unyielding loyalty in your voice made Sukuna’s lips twitch, a genuine, heartbreaking smile threatening to break through his stoic mask. Even with a wiped memory, his sweet wife still possessed that exact same fiery, protective spirit.
"Yeah" he chuckled hoarsely, letting out a long sigh. "You have an incredible best friend named Shoko. You two are both doctors. you work in the exact same surgical unit at the city hospital. We have a ton of mutual friends we met back in our high school days. And those kids at the hospital? The pink-haired teenager is my nephew, Yuji, and the dark-haired one is Megumi, our friend's kid. They practically worship the ground you walk on, princess. You love those brats to death."
"Can I see them?" you asked, a genuine smile finally breaking across your face.
"Of course. Whenever you want." he promised, his eyes tracking the way your lips curved.
Sukuna let out a sudden, rough snort, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes. "Old or not, woman... you're still completely breathtaking."
A deep, violent blush instantly stained your cheeks. You hadn't been around an attractive man or any man, for that matter in your conscious memory, and having this giant, dangerously handsome individual throw such a raw compliment at you made your heart do a chaotic somersault. You quickly looked down at your soup, missing the way his eyes softened at your reaction.
Over the next three weeks, the fragments of a life began to surround you, even if the puzzle pieces wouldn't quite lock into place.
Yuji and Megumi came over to the house constantly. Yuji spent hours enthusiastically teaching you how to make his signature protein shakes and weird jello molds, his loud laughter filling the quiet house, while Megumi sat nearby with his usual serious expression. But the moment you offered Megumi a soft, encouraging smile, his sharp features would instantly melt into something deeply tender. Yet, beneath their smiles, you could see the underlying sadness in their eyes every time you failed to remember a shared inside joke.
When Shoko finally visited, she broke down completely, throwing her arms around your neck and sobbing into your shoulder. It was a bizarre maybe stupid too, overwhelming feeling being fiercely loved by people you couldn't even remember and a heavy weight of guilt began to settle deep in your chest. You even met Toji, Megumi's father, a tall, stoic man who didn't say much but looked at you with a quiet, profound pity that made you realize just how broken your situation truly was.
And then, there was Sukuna.
Your husband spent every single day patiently guiding you through your routines, driving you past your old university, cooking your favorite meals, and trying every gentle trigger possible. But your mind remained a stubborn, locked vault. Sukuna was growing desperate furious and completely fucked up by the stagnation.
To make matters worse, just one week before the accident, you had playfully taken down every single one of your framed marriage photographs to rearrange the living room gallery wall, hiding them away in a "genius spot" that Sukuna had completely forgotten more like you didn't even told him. He had spent hours frantically tearing the house apart while you were out, searching for a single modern photo of the two of you together.
He was completely unraveling. He couldn't sleep. The woman he loved was sleeping in the room next to him, yet she looked at him with the polite, distant eyes of a stranger. He felt like a ghost haunting his own home. One evening, he sat alone in the dark kitchen and wept the third time he had ever cried in his entire life. The first had been tears of pure joy on your wedding day when he saw you walking the aisle. the second had been out of terror when the ER doctor told him a car had struck you. and now, he was crying simply because he missed his wife so damn much
His phone offered no help either. his gallery was filled entirely with candid photos he had taken of you you stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your head, you laughing in a department store dressing room, or a hilarious picture of you biting into a raw lemon and making a completely disgusted face. He had no photos of the two of you together on his device, you had always been the one insisted on keeping the physical, printed albums. The only joint photos he could find were a few faded, wrinkled prints from your high school days, showing a younger, wilder version of himself wrapping his arms around you from behind while you laughed into the camera. When he showed them to you, you just stared at them blankly. It was killing him.
At the end of the third week, Sukuna was sitting heavily on the living room sofa, completely exhausted after another failed search through the house. He was mindlessly scrolling through the candid photos of you on his phone, a faint, melancholy smile touching his lips. His fingers traced your face on the photo, your bright smile. your bubbly laughter at his most unfunniset jokes, now all of that are vanished.
The heavy front door clicked open. Shoko had taken you out for an afternoon of shopping to get you out of the house, and she had just dropped you off at the curb. You stepped into the foyer, balancing several shopping bags in your arms.
Sukuna instantly locked his phone, shoving it into his pocket as he stood up, his red eyes drinking in the sight of you. "Had fun, princess?"
"Yes, I did. And thank you... for letting me use your credit card" you said softly, walking over to the coffee table and gently sliding the black card back toward him.
"You bought dresses?" he asked, pointing toward the bags. Honestly, he didn't give a single fuck about the money. you could have emptied his entire bank account and he would have gladly signed it away just to see you happy.
"I bought a few things..." You cleared your throat nervously, your fingers twisting together. "But... I actually bought something for you, too."
The words hit his chest like a physical blow. Even with her mind completely wiped, your beautiful, kind soul was still looking out for him. "Really?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Can I see it?"
You gave a small nod, walking over to the couch and tentatively sitting down right next to him. The close proximity made his heart start to hammer against his ribs like a trapped bird.
"I don't know if it's really your style, or if you'll even like it..." you mumbled bashfully, reaching into a small velvet pouch and pulling out a heavy, intricately braided silver bracelet studded with raw, brilliant red stones. "The color... it just immediately reminded me of you. Of your eyes."
You gently reached out, grasping his massive, calloused wrist to drape the metal over his skin. Oh God, if you only knew how fast his heart was racing beneath his chest. Your soft, warm fingers lingering against his pulse point was pure, exquisite torture.
"It looks incredible, Y/n. Thank you." he whispered, a genuine, breathtakingly soft smile spreading across his tattooed face as he looked down at the crimson stones.
"Thank you... for being so incredibly patient with me" you said quietly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
Sukuna let out a long, ragged sigh, his hand hovering over yours for a fraction of a second before he pulled back. "I will always be patient with you, princess. Always."
You looked directly into his burning red eyes, and for the first time in three weeks, a warm, genuine smile broke across your face. Sukuna felt his breath hitch. he was entirely certain he was about to pass out from the sheer weight of his love for you.
"Can you stay right here for a bit? I need to go jump in the shower real quick. I'll be fast" he muttered hoarsely, his hand instinctively reaching out to gently ruffle your hair a comforting, domestic habit he had carefully maintained. You let out a soft chuckle at the gesture.
The moment his heavy footsteps disappeared up the stairs and the sound of running water echoed through the pipes, you stood up, wandering aimlessly around the quiet main floor. Your feet pulled you toward the small, cozy library nestled just off the living room. The walls were lined with hundreds of books some ancient leather volumes, others modern art textbooks. You pulled one off the shelf, flipping through the pages before sliding it back into place.
As you stepped back, your eyes caught a glimpse of something hidden on the absolute highest shelf, shoved far back into the shadows near the ceiling. It looked like a massive, heavy frame leaning flat against the back wall, obscured by a decorative ceramic vase. Intrigued, you stood on your tiptoes, stretching your arms up as high as they could go, blindly reaching for the top edge of the wooden frame.
Your fingers caught the molding, but as you pulled, the heavy ceramic vase shifted, losing its balance.
Crash!
The vase shattered against the hardwood floor with a deafening, echoing smash. Startled, you let out a sharp cry, stumbling backward as the massive hidden frame came tumbling down from the top shelf, striking the edge of the desk before landing flat on the rug. The backing of the frame split completely open upon impact, and a massive cascade of loose, glossy photographs erupted across the floor hundreds of them, scattering like playing cards across the room.
You gasped, placing a hand over your racing heart as you looked away from the broken pottery, your eyes drifting down to the sea of images covering the floor.
You froze.
Right at your feet lay a massive, professionally printed portrait. In the photograph, you were sitting securely on Sukuna's lap. You were wearing a breathtaking, flowing white lace wedding dress, holding a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers, and laughing so brightly your eyes were crinkled shut. Sukuna was clad in a sharp, tailored black tuxedo, his massive arms wrapped fiercely around your waist from behind, an absolutely massive, unbothered, triumphant grin plastered across his face.
Your breath hitched violently. You stumbled forward, falling to your knees as your hands frantically snatched up another photo from the pile. In this one, you were hoisted high up on Sukuna's broad shoulders at a crowded, flashing outdoor music festival; your mouth was wide open in a breathless scream of laughter, while his large hands were clamped firmly around your thighs to keep you safe, both of your faces painted with pure, unadulterated euphoria.
You grabbed a third photo, and the entire world stopped spinning. It was a quiet, intimate shot taken right in the backyard garden outside. You were sitting cross-legged on the green grass, wearing a simple summer dress with a soft, shy smile, while Sukuna’s heavy head was resting completely in your lap. He was looking up at you with an expression of such pure, unconditional adoration it made your soul ache, while your fingers were woven gently through his soft pink hair.
Pink hair.
The backyard.
The jazz music.
The napkin.
A sudden, violent explosion of memories ripped through the barriers of your mind. It wasn't a trickle; it was a catastrophic, roaring tidal wave. Seven years of laughter, fierce arguments, passionate late-night apologies, the smell of his skin, the exact weight of his body pressing you into the master mattress, the sound of his deep voice whispering "I've got you, princess" into the dark. It all hit your brain at once with the force of a freight train.
The sheer, overwhelming velocity of the memories made the room spin violently. Your vision blurred into a vortex of white light and crimson eyes. You let out a choked gasp, your strength entirely giving out as your body collapsed sideways onto the hardwood floor with a loud, heavy thud, the scattered photographs of your life pooling around your unconscious form.
When you finally opened your eyes again, the harsh glare of the ceiling lights was gone, replaced by the warm, dim ambiance of the living room. You were laying flat on the soft fabric of the sofa.
"She's waking up! Sukuna, look, her eyes are moving!" Yuji’s panicked, loud voice cut through the quiet room.
You blinked heavily, your vision slowly focusing. Megumi was standing right beside his cousin, his dark eyes wide and completely swimming with anxiety. Shoko was hovering over you, a small medical flashlight in her hand, her face pale as she checked your vitals.
But your heart didn't care about any of them. Your eyes frantically scanned the tight circle of people, instantly landing on the massive, tattooed man standing frozen at the foot of the couch. His pastel pink hair was damp from the shower, his chest heaving under a plain black t-shirt, and his face was a mask of pure, absolute terror.
As your eyes met his, a single, heavy tear spilled over your eyelid, tracing a hot path down your cheek. The vast, terrifying void in your mind was completely gone, replaced by the roaring, beautiful fire of your reality.
"Ryo..." you choked out, your voice a broken, breathless sob.
Sukuna froze, his entire frame visibly violently shuddering at the sound of the nickname the private, intimate name only you were ever allowed to call him.
Before anyone else could even blink, you threw yourself forward off the sofa cushions, completely ignoring the dull ache in your muscles. You lunged straight into his space, your arms wrapping fiercely around his massive neck. You buried your face in the crook of his collarbone, gripping the fabric of his shirt with a desperate, white-knuckled intensity as you pressed a hard, crying kiss directly against his tattooed jaw.
"I remember... us" you sobbed violently into his skin, your entire body trembling as the tears flowed freely. "I remember everything, Ryo... I remember you."
Sukuna’s mind completely blanked. For a single, breathless second, he couldn't even process the words. And then, a raw, ragged sound escaped his throat a mixture of a sob and a laugh. His massive, powerful arms came crashing down around your frame, pulling you so close against his chest you could barely breathe, lifting your knees entirely off the floor as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
And there, in the middle of his living room, surrounded by his family and the scattered photographs of your love, Ryomen Sukuna closed his eyes and wept for the fourth time in his life.
"I fucking love you" he whispers
(not me me writing all night just for 36 like and one reblog😣🙏🏾)
Cameron held your face in the mirror, your face so close it was almost pressed into it. You were pooling around him, your juices slicking up the hard wood floor seeping out more and more as he pounded into you from behind— you swore you saw a large imprint in your stomach. Your eyes were half way stuck in your head and you were reduced to mumbling. “you see what that dick to you baby” he asked his voice thick and intoxicating you could barely hold on “say it baby say what its doing to you” he groaned damn near talking himself through it “I-it’s driving m-me crazy” you barely sputtered out as his pace quickened his fingers forcing their way into your mouth
"If you just let me. I can be him. You can call his name. Pretend he's touching you."
Six months since 𝓨𝒖𝒕𝒂 started pursuing you.
The setting sun over jujutsu tech glared you down as your back pressed into the bridge's wooden beams. Was Satoru's glare in the horizon? Was his judgement in the sky? Were his chastises whispered in the wind that kissed your cheek?
His eyes were above you.
His hair tickling your forehead.
His hands on you.
His. But not his. Not your husband. Not Satoru.
Just the man who wore his skin.
Yuta shedded his a long time ago. A miscalculation. A medical horror. Returning to his body became impossible and so, he remained in the man who was once yours. Now twenty three, and all he wanted?
You.
Before you, he stood. Looming over you the way that Satoru did. Caressing your cheek the way that Satoru did.
Whispering to you the way that Satoru did.
"I have his memories," he said, thumb tracing a familiar line on your cheekbone. "I know how he touched you. I know how he loved you. I can love you the same."
He leaned closer. Diminishing both the space between you and your shame.
"We can play pretend," he promised.
The same way Satoru had promised that he would come home.
The same way you had promised him that no one else would ever hold your heart, your body, your soul.
You broke your promise.
All it took was a kiss. From lips you remembered. From a mouth that worshipped you every day of your short marriage.
Your downfall were his hands. Familiar. Once yours. The wedding ring he still wore out of reverence for his sensei.
A kiss. A touch. A memory. That's all it took.
All it took for the sheets to welcome your back. For your thighs to welcome his head. Your hands greeting white hair that you once stroked so tenderly when the world caved in on him.
Your Satoru.
Not your Satoru.
Satoru's body.
Your Satoru's body.
Between your legs. Worshipping you. As he always did. With big, scarred hands spreading you apart. With a tongue that knew every inch of you. A voice that praised you.
The same way your husband would.
"So sweet, taste so so good, sweet girl," the groan soaked into your slick. An aphrodisiac of its own. Seeping into your veins. Dizzying your mind.
"Toru," you whimpered.
Toru.
Satoru.
Your Satoru.
He's not your Satoru.
But you moaned for him as if he was.
Tugged onto his hair. Ground into his face. Whimpered his name— as if he was.
Two orgasms on his tongue alone. Yuta proved that he had committed to his sensei's memories. He knew exactly how to fuck you on the pink muscle. Where to touch. What pressure.
His thumb stroked along your slit. Tracing the quivers as his lips occupied your clit. Sucking on its pulses and worming out another devastating orgasm out of you.
Three. You came three times.
The same number Satoru worked you up to before he kissed you. Held you. Fucked you.
Yuta committed to the routine. Kissed you. Spread your thighs.
Pressed his dick to your twitching cunt.
Shushed your cries.
Held you.
Fucked you.
Your body forgot, but your mind didn't. The stretch burned and tears pricked at your eyes— but your mind keened. Slipped. Soaked in the memory of him.
Of your husband.
Of Satoru.
As Yuta's hips engraved new memories into your thighs.
As his fingers blossomed new bruises.
As his mouth kissed you with a new hunger.
Your arms hugged around his neck. Breath stuttering. Voice breaking. Every plunge of his cock stroked the fire deeper into you. Unravelling your mind into a messy heap of tears and needy.
Rough pants fanned above you. His brows pinched at the centre. One hand gripping your thigh and the other cupped beneath your head. Yuta's thrusts were as nasty as Satoru's. Deep, fast, taking you apart from the inside out.
"That's it. There you go," he huffed, white lashes fluttering. "There's my girl."
"Sat— toru," you sobbed. Because maybe crying would make it real.
Maybe it'd wake you up from this terrible nightmare.
"You're doing so well, sweetheart." His voice slipped into your ear. Clenched your heart. Squeezed your cunt as your nails raked down his back.
"Toru," you whimpered. "T-Toru, toru please. I need— I need you. I need you."
His thumb found your clit, your back bowed into the pleasure. Another sob shook from your lungs. Reaching out for him. Not Yuta. Not his body. Him.
But it was Yuta who cupped your face. With Satoru's hand.
Yuta who bottomed out. Fucked you deeper. With Satoru's cock.
Yuta who whispered to you. With Satoru's voice.
"I'm here." He lied, so sweetly.
As his hips drove faster— and faster. Grinding into all of the sweetspots that Satoru knew. That were now at his disposal.
"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart." He lied, so gently.
As he hugged you close. Took you higher— and higher. Perfectly choreographed to the memory he committed to.
Playing with your clit, with Satoru's fingers.
Praising you, with Satoru's words.
Kissing you, with Satoru's lips.
"I'm gonna cum," you cried, and he licked your tears away. Cradled your face. Whispered tenderly.
"Cum," eyes so blue, eyes once yours, stared deep into your soul. Deceived you with promises that had already been broken. "Cum for me. Cum for 'toru, baby. C'mon."
The heat, the need, the memories— they all rushed into a knot that snapped in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes rolled back. Body arched. Tensed.
"Satoru— t-toru. Toru, miss you. I miss you."
You sobbed his name when you came.
Clung to his shoulders.
Squeezed his cock.
But you knew.
That it wasn't him that held you.
Wasn't him that smacked his hips into yours.
Wasn't him that groaned deep, even if it was his voice.
Wasn't him that stilled, that moaned your name, that filled you to the brim and kept pumping as you shook with whimpers.
Eyes so blue. Eyes once yours.
But in your heart, you knew. Satoru was dead.
Knew that the thing wearing his skin wasn't him.
And that the only one who caressed your face, kissed you, told you that he loved you— wasn't your husband.
we need testers for our new roleplay platform (and give us feedback) to see what features stay and which go! stay tuned so you can test the alpha with us and receive a little something if you decide to stay with us when we release the beta!
ꮼ alt!geto always finds new ways to prove his love.
ᦸ alt!geto as a boyfriend ⸝⸝ art by hunnismokah ⸝⸝ not proofread.
alt!geto who lets you toy with his various lip piercings during aftercare & honestly whenever you want, always getting lost in the soft touches & tugs as he practically melts into your fingertips.
alt!geto agrees to giving you piercings at home as long as you let him help you clean them up so they don't reject or get infected.
alt!geto has a peekaboo dyed to be your favorite color—always showing it off whenever he puts up his hair or gets the chance to show off his pretty hair devoted to his pretty girl.
alt!geto shares his entire closet with you, from his too-loose rings & necklaces, to his jackets, shirts & sweaters; he'll even buy certain shirts he knows you'll just steal out of his closet, just because you'll like them
alt!geto is big on DIY gifts; he'll make you trinkets from clay, sketch out posters for your walls, make a little box for you to keep everything of his in, and paint your favorite things. His favorite gift he's made was a bouquet blanket that he crocheted.
alt!geto lets you press him down flat on his stomach so you can color in the tattoos splattered across his back—teasing you occasionally by arching his back to distract you whenever you're too focused on his skin.
What better way to practice anatomy than to go to a muscle cafe? Well, you can think of atleast two reasons...
notes. art creds goes to the lovely kinori on x ! made for my sweet @sukunamatat4, hope you enjoy my angel <3
pairing. fushiguro toji x reader x ryomen sukuna
word count. . . 7.5k
c/w. nsfw. fem reader & anatomy. non-curse au. muscle cafe setting. obligatory porn with plot tag. threesome, mmf. toji & sukuna are VERY competitive. they're jackasses but nice jackasses. swearing. semi-public relations (breakroom). visiting paris. oral (both fem & m receiving), eating box from the back, fingering, manhandling, spitting, dp (at the same time), "stretching out", overstim, full nelson, unprotected piv, pull-out method, p talking. slight tojikuna/sukuji. getting caught, gojo cameo.
If the pearly gates were physical, you'd be standing in front of them right now.
The overpowering smell of sweet desserts and even fruitier drinks, all served by the biggest, buffest men that Tokyo had to offer. Each server dressed in shirts so thin the material might have well been transparent, muscles oiled just enough to glisten and sparkle beneath pink and gold coloured bulbs.
Heaven.
You’re stuck lingering at the entrance as the long line dwindles shorter and shorter, clutching a physiology textbook in one arm and your bag strap in the other. Trying to calculate the odds that you’d be focused all while listening to people squeak and squeal inside.
Letting yourself drift into a daydream to pass the time, picturing yourself finally passing one of your anatomy tests rather than the big red flunking grade that currently slashed itself over the top header. Thankfully, your professor gave you one last chance to try and make up the grade, and with the deadline a day away, you swore to focus and actually attempt to study.
“Helloooo?” a voice sing-songs, cutting through your imagination and bringing you back to reality where a pale hand waves in front of your face, an equally frosty complexion tipping his head directly into your line of sight.
And oh. my. god.
This had to be heaven— and an angel was standing right in front of you.
The prettiest man you’d ever seen smiling at you like he wasn’t fit to pose for the cover of any top model magazine. All long limbs and wide smiles, muscled arms fitted into a pastel blue turtleneck. Pretty pink lips pursing as he watches your reaction with wide crystalline eyes, white lashes fanning out like a doe.
You wonder if he’s as sweet as the desserts.
“Huh?”
He grins. Mischief glinting in his eyes, like he knew the effect he had on you. “I asked you a question: do you want a booth, or a regular seat?”
Blinking, you shrug. “A booth, if possible.”
Nodding, your white-haired dreamboat turns to grab a menu from the rack at the counter, giving you a brief second to peek at his physique again. Ogling him and his chest, briefly noticing the nametag pinned to his left breast.
Satoru.
Of course a cute guy would have a cute name.
Satoru steps back towards you, hoisting the menu to his elbow and motioning you to follow with his other hand. “C’mon, this way,” he directs, one palm open at your side, weaving and navigating with the expertise of someone who was obviously familiar with the busy terrain. “It’s a little busy today, sorry.”
“No worries, I understand,” you try to offer, nodding in understanding. Attempting to not trip over yourself when he smiles in your direction. “Are you going to be my server?”
He laughs at that, leaving you a little confused for a second before he adds on, “I wish, but no. I’m up at the front desk today. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they take extra good care of you.”
You hum, fiddling with the corner of the textbook. Let him set the menu down on the empty booth table before sliding into one side of it, dropping your things in their respective places.
Embarrassingly stuttering over your words, you nod again. “O-okay. Sounds good.”
Satoru flashes one last customer-service smile at you, though it doesn’t exactly resemble the politeness he seemed to be trying to emanate. It was a little sly, deceitful in the way a wolf could be when luring a sheep directly into the pack den.
“Don’t worry, the guys’ll love you,” he assures. Giving you a two-finger salute before disappearing back towards his seat at the front counter.
Settling in your seat, you finally set the textbook on the top of the table and flip it open to the page you dog-eared previously. Skimming over the paragraphs until you found where you were struggling before, thumbing open your notebook and uncapping your pen to take notes.
Beginning to scrawl in quick, jagged handwriting: the rectus abdominis muscles are crossed by three fibrounds bands…
You don’t know how long you write. Finally getting into a rhythm of reading and annotating on your own sheet, looking between each bracket of information and studying the diagrams of muscle filaments and their placements over sheaths and cartilage.
A shadow falls over your textbook, cutting the light from above. Lifting your head, you meet the eyes of the most handsome man you think you’ve ever seen— tan skin, sharp jawline, full lips bisected at the left side by a thin scar.
And those eyes. Shades of emerald and jade narrowing down at you as you stare up at him, black hair chopped just above his eyebrows and framing his ears. Adam’s apple bobbing before he finally speaks in such a deep voice that you can’t help but tremble a little.
What? It’s not like you were exactly experienced when it came to talking to guys in this caliber of good-looking.
Especially not the kind that would blatantly flex every muscle in their arms and chest when your gaze just so happened to trail down, down, down over and over like a compass seeking north.
“My name’s Toji, I’ll be your server,” he greets. Yet again tensing his bicep against the rolled fabric of his cotton t-shirt, thin black fabric tightening over the cords of muscle. “Do you still need time to look over the menu?”
You blink. Try to swallow the spit that’s pooled beneath your tongue. Jerking your focus from his very-handsome face to instead glance at the menu, then back at him.
Forcing your focus on anything but the way the corners of his lips twitch in amusement when you lick your lips at the sight of him again.
“Umm, I’ve never been here before,” you trail off, squirming a little under his attention. “Can I just get what you usually get instead?”
His brow raises. Echoing your words, “What I usually get?”
You chew your bottom lip. “Well, yeah. Like something to drink.”
Was that a weird request? You didn’t think so, but the way he was staring at you—
“Alright, then,” Toji shrugs. “Just don’t say you hate it.”
Turning away, he leaves you there for a few minutes. You peek towards the employee entrance to the kitchen just to see him leaning up against the open door, arms crossed as he talks to someone obscured by the other door.
Would it be tacky to leave your number on a napkin when you leave?
Deliberating over your future choice rather than trying to cram in a couple extra minutes of studying, hardly noticing his return until he set down a paper cup that was definitely not from here.
Oh well. Sniffing at the contents, it smells pleasantly enough. Even if it ended up being poison, atleast you wouldn’t have to end up taking the exam and potentially flunking it again.
“Order up,” he hums, leaning forward to peer at your textbook again. Curiously questioning, “Whatcha studying for?”
Lifting the cup, you swallow a sip and subsequently cough as it goes down the wrong pipe, cheeks flushing hot as you clear your throat. “Anatomy for a test I flunked,” you answer. Tittering, “I was hoping I’d be able to reference some of the employees here, but it’s a little distracting.”
Suddenly a little self-conscious, you peek up at him. Looking between his emerald eyes for a hint on his perception of you.
Did he think you were weird? Sure, you were okay with being labelled a geek— hell, most days you took pride in the title— but now? When you might have the chance of getting a hot guy's number if you played your cards right?
Being single was starting to get a little lonely. Who would blame you if you tried to change that?
Toji, despite your worries, seems to take your answer with newfound interest. Casually nodding as he speaks up again. “Cool. I actually studied kinesiology in college, so I could try to help you out, if you want. No pressure.”
Cute and smart?
Jackpot!
You nod, maybe a little more eagerly than intended. But he doesn’t seem to mind.
Instead letting himself leaaannn over the edge of the table, large palms splayed flat against the dark wood. The cords of his deltoids flex just beneath the hem of the shirt, close enough now that you could distinctly make out the citrus and sandalwood notes of his cologne beneath the tang of a long shift.
He reads your notes quickly, plump lower lip caught between his teeth before he lets it snap free. Reaching up and out, he taps a blunt finger over your notes.
“You should make acronyms to remember the proper names better,” Toji advises, glancing at your expression before looking back to the spiral-bound pages. “Helped me out a little, atleast. Been a while since I was in school though, so I dunno if they’re teachin’ different things now.”
Before you can respond, a tattooed arm loops over Toji’s shoulder, your server’s form crowded closer to you as a taller, bulkier man sidles his way in.
“Don’t tell me you’re holding out on the Employee of the Month now, Fushiguro,” the second man drawls, finally stepping into sight. His grin is all teeth, charming and predatory in the way he oozes easy confidence.
Pretty pink dyed hair tussled into a wild arrangement that barely concealed the dark roots returning, jawline blunt and eyes crinkling at the corners. Studs pierced into the lobes of his ears and thin bars prodding between the curved shells. Tattoos loop around his wrists, forearms, biceps and more, disappearing beneath the hem of an equally thin t-shirt, reappearing again along the sharper edges of his jaw and cheekbones.
The kind of ink that’d turn most businesses away for fear of criminal activity.
The kind that was oh so affectionately titled a ‘career killer.’
It certainly didn’t kill the mood. If anything, your thighs squeezed together, gaze rovering down his front before refocusing back up to their faces.
What were the odds of a business having three hot employees?
Twenty-three percent?
Less, probably.
Toji, however, doesn’t find the intrusion pleasant. Turning his scarred lips down into a scowl as he levels his gaze at his colleague. “Man, fuck you. She’s in my section, not yours.”
His colleague only snickers. “Gojo sent me over here. Said you might need help ‘lessening your load’ since you seemed a little overworked. Don’t worry, I can take care of her plenty— show her all the ropes, teach her alllll different kinds of muscles.”
And judging from the way Toji’s chest puffs up, that seemed to be a sore spot between the two of them. With wide eyes, you watch as the two of them face off, muscles flexing and knuckles popping in silent competition.
It was like watching the Discovery Channel all over again. You could practically hear the narrator droning on in the back of your mind about pack dynamics, the fights for dominance between alphas, the consequences if neither won or stood down…
“Um, excuse me,” you finally chirp, voice wavering a little. Eyes growing wider when both heads whipped towards you as if suddenly reminded that you were right there listening to them. Both sets of irises are dark and wild with challenge.
Swallowing, you regret speaking up for a moment. Subtly kicking yourself in the ankle beneath the table to spur yourself to continue.
“Maybe you both could help me study?” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Did you really just say that aloud? Trying to amend it quickly, “Sorry, I just thought that it might be better to learn if there’s multiple examples and techniques.”
Maybe the world would swallow you whole if you were lucky enough.
The duo looks at you. Then to each other. Then back to you.
The second man recovers first. “Shit, yeah?”
“No, she didn’t mean it like that,” Toji cuts in. Glaring at his colleague, shifting his shoulder just enough that you could finally peek at the namebadge stuck to the other’s hidden pectoral.
Sukuna.
Fuck it. What were the odds you’d get an opportunity like this again?
You insist with a nod. “But I do, though.”
Sukuna blinks. Toji blinks. Both look at you like you’ve descended from the heavens.
“Yeah?” Toji murmurs. Lids lowering halfway as he puts his focus on you. “Shit.”
“Told you,” Sukuna pridefully hums. He knocks his head back, chin tipping towards a beaded curtain that presumably hid the employee hallway. “Knew I liked you. C’mon, pretty girl. Old man’s gotta pick his jaw up from the floor, it’ll take a minute.”
An offer you don’t dare question, instead picking up your things and cradling them in your arms as you slide yourself from the center of the booth to the end, following after the duo towards the back. Letting them guide you down a second hallway that splits off from the first, watching as Toji shoulders open a door and checks for residents before opening it fully to let you and Sukuna in.
Mere seconds after you cross the threshold, Toji’s letting the door swing and thump Sukuna’s shoulder as he walks in behind you, choosing to fit his palms on either side of your hips and walk you back towards the breakroom table. A gesture that would’ve been faintly sweet if it weren’t for the absolute heat smoldering in his irises.
Letting him crowd you up against it before your hands fly to his chest, positively quivering when Toji leans low enough to speak next to your ear. “Well? Go ahead and start studying, doll. Got a perfect model right here f’you.”
Cheeks warming, you’re stammering out, “O-okay.” Lifting your hands up to slip beneath his shirt, forcing your focus to the man in front of you rather than the one over his shoulder who was making a show of locking the door. “Like this?”
When your palms make contact with his abdomen, two things happen. One, Toji hisses at the brush of clammy skin against his infernally-heated flesh. Two, his hips jut forward, and you let out the loudest gasp possible.
Not because he had a set of abs so perfect hidden beneath his shirt that it should’ve been a crime— even though he did— but because the thick line of his crotch bumped against your lower belly. Erection so firm and prominent that the single brush of contact had you nearly squealing and wrenching your hands off of him.
“Whatever you want,” Toji murmurs, the low rumble of his voice catching your breath. He drags the tip of his nose across the crown of your head, dragging in the scent of your shampoo by the lungful. “Ain’t gonna bite if you want to go lower, though.”
Sukuna snorts behind him, but doesn’t say anything. Just leans up against the wall and watches as you continue to explore without correction.
Toji turns his head to look over his shoulder, frowning. Reaching back behind his head and tugging his shirt up and off, revealing the sculpted torso of someone who very clearly enjoyed laborious hours at the gym.
And fuck if you aren’t totally drinking it in. Even the finest marble statues didn’t portray the potential of man that Toji so easily did— bulging pectorals with tanned nipples faintly erect from the air conditioning, biceps filled out and flexed taut, prominent veins zig-zagging up and down and down from the crook of his elbow to the heel of his palms.
Those abs, though… a perfect eight-pack ladder stacked and ridged to perfection, three thin veins crawling up towards his navel from just beneath the band of his bottoms. A prominent v-line cutting off where he pushes the waistband down just enough to show off the small dusting of coarse black hair that peeked out.
Mindlessly letting your palms descend until the tips of your fingers barely brush the pubis bone. Whispering more to yourself than him, “It’s… impressive.”
Toji chuckles, abs flexing. “Just impressive?”
You lift your eyes to his. Swallowing the saliva that pooled beneath your tongue. “You’ve got a really nice definition.”
Toji hums above you, clearly pleased. Raising his voice just loud enough that Sukuna would hear from across the room, “Hear that, jackass? She said I’ve got a really nice definition.”
Said man crosses the room and peels his own shirt from his torso without thought, shouldering Toji aside and taking his place in front of you. Pulling you from where you half-sat on the edge of the table to put you right in front of him.
“Nah, she just hasn’t seen real strength yet,” Sukuna growls. Wrapping one massive hand around your wrist to guide you to touch the plush bulk of his pectoral. Close enough now that when he leans forward you can clearly see the dark carmine hues of his irises twinkle. “Too busy fuckin’ around with wimps.”
You take the chance to survey him. Where Toji was all definition and meticulously built with precise cuts and edges, Sukuna was bulky and broad. Muscles thicker and less defined like he was mid bulking season permanently, pectorals bulging with the quality of a perfectly firm pillow.
The tattoos formerly covered by his shirt span down and cut jagged lines over the twin loops hooking through dusty-rose coloured nipples, beginning again along his sides until they cut off just above the ridge of his jeans. Trimmed above the belt rather than letting it grow as wild as his hair was.
“See, brat? Tell him I’ve got a better physique,” Sukuna frowns. Competitive.
“Man, why don’t you fuck off somewhere?” Toji grunts, reaching around you to swat at the other man with an open palm. Turning you back to face him and pulling you into his chest, face buried between his pecs. “Nobody wants to see your fat ass around here anyways.”
“Says the broke guy who sneaks cakes out the back door—”
You pry yourself from Toji’s chest, cheeks flaming hot as you interrupt. “You’re both really fit, isn’t that good enough?”
Their eyes turn to you, brows furrowed in the same expression. Like you’d just failed the most obvious test known to man despite both of them wanting a different answer.
Oops.
Toji presses closer, sandwiching you firmly between them. One large hand raised up to cup your jaw with false sweetness, guiding your face upwards to look at him and solely him. Suddenly so sweet that you’re sure he’s leading you into a trap.
“You’re supposed to be the smart one, aren’t you?” Toji drawls. Thumbpad smearing your plush lower lip down and letting it pop free. “C’monn, use that pretty brain and tell us who you think is really better.”
You chew at your lip. “Well… you have a really great insertion in your obliques,” Toji hums at that, already approving. Your hands shift to trail over his abdomen, all while Sukuna crowds behind you. “And a prominent Adonis belt.”
Sukuna’s deeper voice rumbles behind you. “Bet mine feels better, though. Go ahead and tell ‘em.”
Toji’s eyes lift to look at the man behind you. Staring each other down over your head.
Offering in favor of balancing the scales again, “Mmh, Sukuna does have a pretty defined serratus anterior.”
Which pleases Sukuna far more than you thought possible. “See, Fushiguro? She likes my serra-tits.”
“She said serratus, moron.”
Toji crowds in closer. Sukuna matches the action. Stuck between them, you truly question whether it’d be possible to suffocate with what little space you had between the two hulks of muscle.
Oh well. If this was the way you died, you’d die happy.
Faintly listening to Sukuna’s retort, “I’ll show you some serra-tits—”
And Toji’s correction, “Serratus—”
Before finally cutting in once more. “Can you two ease off or something?”
Their jaws click shut so fast you think you can hear the audible snap.
Toji’s hand flexes before he drops it to your hip, finally regarding you again as he drops his verdant gaze back down to yours— eyes flitting between both of yours to catalogue the flush that’s ridden high on your cheeks and the slight expansion of your pupils.
“How about this,” Toji’s voice lowers, rumbling as he leans lower down towards you. His breath fans out across your lips, the slight tang of cigarettes sweetened by a fruitier dessert he must’ve had sometime during his shift. “We’ll stop fighting if you can tell us who you want to kiss more. Me, or him?”
“O-oh?” You blink. A subtle shiver runs up your spine, sparks tingling outwards at the very prospect. Noticing how close Toji was, close enough to see the faint flecks of gold and darker green surrounding his expanded pupils.
Lowering your eyes just enough to glance at his lips, imagining the plush skin pushing against yours. Wondering how the scar would feel across yours, whether it’d be soft or rough. Deciding in an instant, “You.”
“Atta girl,” Toji grins. He drops his head towards yours, one hand lifting to cradle the back of your neck, meeting you in an absolutely filthy kiss from the start. His tongue swipes over your lips in a quick request for more, immediately met when your mouth parts to accept him.
Pitifully moaning into his mouth when his other hand holds firm on your hip, pulling you close to him. Breasts pillowing against his chest as he gulps you down, nipping and tugging at your lower lip, practically feasting on you.
Parting reluctantly with a wet smack when air becomes a necessity, a string of spit clinging between your tongues until it snaps with a wet pah! and spatters against your chin.
Toji doesn’t back off. Instead, his eyes flick above your head where his neglected colleague stands. Speaking to you without tearing his eyes from Sukuna. “Tell ‘Kuna bye-bye, baby. Toji’ll take care of you all by himself.”
Sukuna snorts, looming in behind you until his chest presses to your back. You’re suddenly aware of a certain man’s arousal tented against your ass, rubbing discreetly with every shift of his hips.
“Naw— tell Jiji here you don’t want me to leave,” Sukuna rumbles, the smile obvious in his voice. His large, broad hands loop around you, just barely shy of hovering the cups of your bra. His head lowers next to yours, the crooked bridge of his nose bumping against your cheekbone. “Go ahead and tell him how bad you want a real man to touch you.”
“Man, fuck you—”
Cutting in once again, as if wrangling toddlers rather than grown men nearly double your size, “Can’t you both just get along for ten seconds?”
For once, the two don’t argue. Almost synchronized as they chirp, “Yes ma’am.”
Toji’s hands adjust where they’d been holding you first, fisting your shirt and tugging it over your head in a quick swipe, tossing it elsewhere. Sukuna’s hands quickly replace it, tugging down the cups of your bra and holding your breasts himself, kneading them and flicking his thumbs over your nipples.
Gasping softly, you crane to reconnect the kiss with Toji, hands reaching to fist his shirt and cling to him. He meets you with unerring force, tongue shoved against yours once more, groaning at the second taste of you.
Sukuna’s grip shifts on your breasts as he lowers one to the hip untouched by Toji, dragging you back against him, grinding the length of his erection over your ass in passes. The button of his jeans catches, earning a grunt and shaky breath that fans over the curve of your shoulder.
“Have you done this before?” Toji mumbles into your mouth, easing back just enough to pepper smaller kisses over the corners of your mouth. “Two at once.”
Your lashes flutter. “No, but I want to.”
“Yeah?” Sukuna cuts in. Practically humping himself against your ass this whole time, his breath comes out shakier. “Dirty girl— gonna haft’a prep you first, then.”
You hardly get a word in before the thump behind you signals Sukuna’s dropped to his knees, your head turning to peer over your shoulder to watch as the massive man peels your waistband back and tugs your bottoms down until they pool at your ankles.
Shifting your posture to let him spread your legs apart and arch forward, Toji lifts your gaze back to his. Keeping your attention on him as Sukuna pulls the cotton of your panties aside, your cheeks flushing hot when the loud shhhhlick! sounds as the fabric sticks to your pussyfolds.
“Goddamn, she’s soaked,” Sukuna voices behind you, voice thick and warm with arousal. Groaning as his thumbs spread you open from behind, fanning his hot breath over your sensitive folds. Dragging in an audible sniiiiiifff so loud that it sounds almost animalistic. “Fuck, perfect goddamn pussy. Gotta have a taste.”
His mouth descends on you with an absolutely feral growl— the first drag of his wet tongue presses in, wagging side to side to smear between your pussylips and flick at your clit. Pulling back to prod along your entrance and push into your slit just enough to tease.
No wonder this place was popular, if this is the service that was given. Hardly even thinking of themselves when you stood between them, putting you first.
How many men had you been with that did that?
A big fat zero.
“Fuh-fuckk,” you moan into Toji’s mouth, rocking back against Sukuna’s face. Every flick and press catching the beads of arousal that seeped from your spread cunt. “Feels so good.”
Your hands travel over the firm space of Toji’s abdomen, slipping back beneath the edge of his waistband and tugging it down, forehead dropping to his sternum. He helps you pry his boxers down, pausing when you do.
Locking on the sight of his cock as he pulls it from its confines, your jaw drops. Easily seven or eight inches long, if not more, a few freckles scattered over the shaft. Two thin veins crawling up the shaft and disappearing beneath the bulbous head.
“Oh my god,” you blurt. Barely giving Toji a second to question what you meant before you’re reaching forward to take it in both hands and spitting onto it.
Toji twitches at your sudden touch, one hand threading in your head. “Fuck, woman, slow down.”
Your thumb spreads the pre-cum leaking from the head over the shaft, pumping him with rapt attention, hardly registering his warning. Extending your arms to follow him when Toji takes a slight step back.
“Wanna—” he starts, cut off when you immediately bend further and spit a wad of saliva over the crown of him, hissing at the sudden warmth of your mouth as you take him in your throat. “Shit, doll–”
Toji’s hips snap up in an instinctual thrust, cock head slapping against the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex, grunting an apology as his hands gather your hair from your face. Sukuna pops from your cunt and groans, not even bothering to wipe your slick from where it coated the expanse of his lower face.
“Tight ass throat,” Toji rumbles, keeping your hair from your face as you bob up and down his cock. Circling his hips to smear himself ‘round and ‘round your throat. “Yeahh, just like that. Tha’ssit.”
Breathing through your nose, you dip forward, nose burying into the coarse hair at his base, the obscene gluck-gluck-gluck of your throat around Toji’s cock filling the room with Sukuna’s slurps.
If the cafe was heaven, then this breakroom had to be the paradise beyond.
Sukuna’s thumbs ease back from spreading your pussylips to pop into his mouth, sucking your taste off them, then release them again to smear over your slick again and gather more, treating your arousal like creamy dessert.
Slipping the rounded edges of his fingertips between your folds and trailing over your slit, wetting his digits with you. “Gonna haft’a stretch you out a little bit so you can take both of us, okay?”
You hum around Toji’s cock, an answer that Sukuna takes without question. Pushing two thick fingers in and groaning when your pussy squelches at the intrusion before letting his digits in, pulsing as he pumps slowly.
“Shit, y’hear that, Fushiguro?” Sukuna groans, claret eyes locked on your pussy. Twisting his fingers within you and working your cunt like an extension of himself. Curling his fingertips against your plush walls and pumping you on his hand like a puppet. “Even when her mouth’s full she’s still so damn vocal.”
Your throat squeezes around Toji’s cock, moans muffled as you rock back onto Sukuna’s knuckles.
“Mhmm, I hear her,” Toji mumbles, keeping his eyes on you rather than his colleague. “You must like us a whole lot, huh? Practically dripping just from a couple kisses and some head.”
Sure, you weren’t a virgin by any extent, but none of your exes had ever been so damn good at this. Much less having two guys taking care of you— this shit was practically a fantasy you thought could never happen.
Toji’s palm gently pats against your cheek, drawing your eyes up to him. “What, you can’t focus on both of us at the same time?”
Sukuna answers for you. “N’aw, she’s too busy gushing around my fingers like a little whore. Bet she’s never been fucked right before— haven’t you, brat?”
You can’t help but moan. Shake your head side to side, which pushes Toji’s cock further down your throat before he hisses and eases back, popping free from your lips with a lewd, wet smack.
“Bet not,” Toji replies. Both having a conversation in your stead where your words had obviously failed somewhere between Toji’s cock slapping against your cheek and Sukuna’s fingers twisting in your cunt. “Probably only fucked around with wimps before, poor girl.”
Sukuna’s echo coos behind you. “Poor girl.”
Thick knuckles prod at your folds as a third finger enters, curling and twisting right against your g-spot. Without warning, your body shivers, choking out a gasp at the last second before an orgasm washes over you.
Release splashes out onto Sukuna’s nose as he dives to lap at your cunt while his fingers work you through the waves, rolling his consonants over your clit until the vibrations twinge at your sensitive bud.
Toji’s hand slips over yours on his cock, pulling you off of him to instead step back towards the edge of the table, barely sitting on the edge, his feet still planted on the floor. Long fingers wrapping around his shaft as he pumps himself, watching you watch him.
“You still want this, right?” he questions, gauging your reaction. The corners of his lips turn up when you nod, suddenly a little shy. Heat crawling up your cheekbones and the tips of your ears. “C’mere.”
Sukuna’s fingers slip free from your cunt, slurping your juices from his skin. “Of course she does,” his hand pats the plush of your ass, prodding you forward. “Go get ‘em, girl. Climb up.”
Urged forward, you halt in front of Toji, accepting the quick peck he gives you before finally climbing into Toji’s lap, your knees settle on either side of his thighs with his help, straddling him as he stands his cock beneath you, sliding it between your pussylips.
Your hands plant on his chest, palms splayed flat. “Hi.”
Toji chuckles. “Hi, pretty girl. Ready?”
“Mhmm.”
“Ah-ah,” Sukuna hums behind you, stepping up to press himself to your back again. Unzipping his own pants and pushing them down to use your slick as lube on his own cock. “She’s gotta say it out loud.”
Immediately, you’re following through with his condition. “Mmmhmmm. I’m ready for both.”
“Both?” Toji echoes, scarred lips splitting into a wide grin. The head of his cock just barely pushes at your slit, stretching your lips around him with a gentle burn. “Greedy, huh? Who would’ve thought.”
“I knew it from the beginning,” Sukuna chimes in. “Goody little two-shoes like her comes in here to ‘study,’ only to end up ogling all the muscles,” he tuts. “Dirty, dirty girl.”
Toji feeds the crown of his cock into you finally, bumping his hips up until you take the hint to let your thighs relax and slide yourself down his shaft, inner walls moulding around him. Your lips part, letting out a soft, shaky gasp as the spit and slick from Sukuna’s earlier attention eases the glide to an easy task.
“Fuck,” Toji curses, his hands coming to your thighs to keep you close, letting you rock yourself onto him until the burn softened. Trying to mask his own moan by talking. “I oughta keep you around, huh? Look at you, pretty eyes all glazed over already. You sure you can take both of us?”
Toji cuts you short the moment you open your mouth. Planting his feet into the floor and driving his hips up until you mewled and clenched around him, falling forward onto his chest.
“O-ohhh fuck..”
Sukuna clicks his tongue. “He’s not that good,” he grumbles. “I could be better, baby. Let you learn what a real virile man feels like, eh?”
Toji snorts, more focused on you than his colleague. Fucking up into you at a proper pace now, rolling your hips into him with every upstroke until you were settling into a comfortable rhythm.
Scarred lips pulling into a grin as he hums, “He’s just jealous— small dick and all that. Meathead has to use protein shakes, can’t stand that I’m all natural.”
“Tell that to the dick pump you jerk twice a goddamn day,” Sukuna grunts. One massive arm snakes under your thigh and yanks it high, hoisting you half off Toji’s lap in a single impatient motion. Sukuna’s thick cock immediately presses up in the space, sliding along the slick underside where Toji’s already splits you open.
He nudges the bridge of his nose firmly against the shell of your ear, breath warm against sweat-clammy skin. “Are you sure you want us at the same time? It’ll be a stretch.”
“Mmmhm,” you affirm once more, softer this time. Their constant check-ins, as gruff-voiced as they were, settle something anxious in your chest. “I’m sure.”
“If you say so.”
The blunt crown of him wedges right against your already-strained entrance, pushing where Toji stretches you thin. He rocks forward in short, testing strokes, teeth gritting in focus until the head of him finally pops past the first ring of resistance. Their shafts slide and drag against each other, Toji slowing to a gentle rock just to keep your walls as lax as possible.
“Should’a stretched this little cunt more,” Sukuna mutters against your neck, rolling his hips forward again. The fat head finally pops past your tight ring of resistance, white-hot pain spearing through and immediately melting to pleasure when Toji’s thumb drops to your clit and rubs the nub comfortingly. “Shiiiit… there we go. Atta fuckin’ girl. Taking two cocks like a pro.”
Toji groans low in his throat, head falling back. Rutting himself deeper into you as if trying to compete to see who could reach the deepest. Imprinting himself into your walls and grinding his base against your pussylips.
Scarred lips parting as Toji grunts, “Hold onto her.”
This time, Sukuna doesn’t argue. He simply slips his other arm beneath your thigh, hooking both elbows at the backs of your knees and lifting you until you’re squeezing around both of them to keep them inside, back pressed to his chest as he carries you.
A standing full nelson.
The kind of position you could only dream of being in, only ever enjoying through the occasional smut you’d read late at night and fantasize about. Now made reality by not one but two of the finest men you’d ever had the pleasure of being sandwiched between.
Toji tilts his head forward to spit between your bodies, a thick rope of saliva landing hot between your pressed bodies. It drips slowly down the seam where you're stretched around them both, pooling at your entrance before he thumbs your swollen clit and works it in messy circles until your walls flutter and soften just enough that Sukuna can sink another inch deeper.
“Fuckin’ tight,” Sukuna hisses. Your inner muscles ripple involuntarily around the dual intrusion, and Toji’s cock twitches hard against his in response, the friction dragging a shared groan from both men.
Toji’s hand comes up to cradle your jaw, rough thumb brushing your lower lip as he looks at you. The calloused pad catches briefly on soft skin before he leans in, scarred lips dragging against yours as he kisses you. His tongue pushes past your lips, swirling without the intensity from earlier, distracting you while Sukuna’s thrusts grow deeper and deeper, the wet sounds filling the room.
You melt between them instantly, whimpering into Toji’s mouth, a soft ah!-ah!-ah! escaping as Toji rocks in time with Sukuna’s thrusts. Hands flying to hold onto something, landing on Toji’s biceps. Your fingers barely span half the thick circumference of his muscles, nails leaving pale crescents on his skin.
Sukuna’s laugh rumbles against your back. “Whipped already, Ji? Never seen you so soft.”
Toji pulls back with a wet schlick, lips and chin shining with spit. Jade eyes flicking up to meet mauve irises over your shoulder. “Try not to sound so jealous, Kuna. Ain’t a good look on you.”
Sukuna snorts. “Please, I’m the one puttin’ in the work here,” he punctuates it with a shallow thrust, dragging the crown of his cock along Toji’s cock and your walls, grinning when your head falls back against his shoulder. “Greedy fuckin’ girl knows who can stuff her best.”
“Bullshit,” Toji’s hips roll, dragging the fat head of his cock along the front wall of your cunt, right along the spot that makes your toes curl. Your whole body jerks, thighs trembling as a broken moan tears from you.
“Fuuuck, please—”
“See?” Toji grins, smug. “She doesn’t beg when it’s you fuckin’ her.”
Sukuna grunts. “Cute. Real fuckin’ cute.”
Without warning, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in a brutal stroke that sends your nails skittering over Toji’s chest for support, clawing his pectorals. The sudden force shoves you down onto both of them at the same time.
“How about we ask her then?” Sukuna’s hips smack against your ass, driving back and forth without pause now. Arms tightening their hold on your thighs until he’s purposefully bouncing you up and down them. “Whaddya say, brat? Go on, tell Jiji here who’s fuckin’ this pussy right. Tell him.”
You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone words. Mewling shamelessly, “Kuna, ah-ah-ah!”
Toji’s eyes narrow. “Wrong.”
He surges up, crashing his mouth against yours again. This kiss isn’t the sweet thing from earlier, but a mess of tongue, his hand prying your jaw open to spit directly into your open maw.
“Toji, fuck—” you gasp, spittle smearing over your lips.
Barely able to swallow the wad before Sukuna’s biting at your jaw, getting you to turn your head in surprise and catch your mouth with his. Both fight to kiss you at the same time, Toji on one side and Sukuna on the other.
Teeth clacking and tongues swirling and circling each other as much as they kiss you. Caught between them, your walls cinch tight, gleefully helpless while they fight each other through you.
Then it happens.
Toji’s tongue slips past yours at the same time Sukuna’s does, colliding in a hot, aggressive mash of forces. They don’t even blink at the change, fucking into you with reckless abandon while they make out with each other and you all at once.
Their cocks twitch inside you at the same moment, thickening even more as they grind against each other. The wet plap-plap-plap of Sukuna’s hips against yours while Toji’s pelvis grinds into your clit. Cockheads kissing deep enough that you swear you feel them bullying over your cervix walls with each skitter of sparks up your spine.
Your pussy clamps tight around them, breaking from the kiss as your head falls back against Sukuna’s shoulder, the knot in your lower belly drawing tight before snapping apart for your second orgasm of the night. Gushing around them in a slick flood, your release spattering against the two men.
Walls fluttering around them in aftershocks that don’t seem to have an end in sight.
“Fuck, yeah,” Toji groans against Sukuna’s mouth. Feet planting as he starts fucking up into you in earnest, deep strokes that make his heavy balls slap wetly against your soaked folds, drenched in your release.
Sukuna matches him instantly, brutal tempo syncing without a word. He slams in the exact moment Toji withdraws, ensuring there’s never a second where you’re not stuffed with one of them. The alternating rhythm turns savage fast—two cocks seesawing through your overstuffed heat, chasing their own edges.
Your head lolls, lips separated as involuntary moans escape you. Sukuna’s arms flex and shift, prying your trembling thighs even wider apart until the stretch borders on obscene, your pussy on full view for the other man. The new angle gives Toji access to thumb over your clit again, pressing and rolling it, then delivering sharp little slaps to the swollen, oversensitive pearl that make your body arch against Sukuna’s hold.
“Fuh-fuck!” you gasp. Locking onto the filthy sight as both men crane to meet each other over your shoulder, reconnecting in a messy, open-mouthed kiss, spit stringing thick between their lips when they part again. “Oh my god, that’s so hot.”
You shove Toji’s hand side, replacing it with your own smaller fingers. Swirling slippery circles over your clit at the mere sight of them, wantonly moaning when Sukuna’s teeth bite into your shoulder to muffle his moan.
Pre-cum swabs your insides as Toji’s hips stutter first, the rhythm stuttering as they near their peaks. One big hand clamps down on your hip, yanking you down onto him harder as he bounces you selfishly along his length, grinding deep.
Toji’s lips find yours once more as you open your mouth to speak again, letting out the most sinful moan the second you reconnect. Whimpering rawly when his cock thickens and jerks hard, barely managing a single word before he’s pulling out and twisting his fist over the head.
“Fuck- god, m’gonna cum,” he pants, pumping the shaft just below the crown as the first rope of milky cum erupts, splattering hot across your mound, your lower belly, even catching the underside of your breasts in a messy streak. “Shiiiit, look at you.”
Sukuna’s hips snap forward into you, rutting up with animalistic pacing, chasing the way your walls squeeze around him. “Kuna, please—”
“I know, baby, I know,” he grunts behind you, grip faltering as he adjusts his hold, straining to keep upright as his balls draw up tight and tingle. “Go ahead and let go for us, just one more time. I know you’ve got it in you.”
Your lower lip catches between your teeth as a third orgasm floods your heat, cunt barely dribbling slick around his cock. Barely coming down from the high as Sukuna grunts to maneuver your limp, trembling body to Toji’s waiting lap.
His cock slips free with a wet pop, leaving you clenching around nothing through the aftershocks. Sukuna catches himself in his fist, stroking through the last erratic jerks as thick, clear ropes spill over his knuckles and drip to the floor in heavy splats against the cold tile.
“Fuuuuuck,” he drags out, groaning. Letting his head fall forward to rest onto your shoulder, the mop of pink-dyed hair sticking to your skin as his chest heaves in time with yours and Toji’s. “Goddamn, girl.”
Breathing heavy, the three of you bask in the humid afterglow, bodies pressed close as the sweat and cum starts to stick. Toji’s hands, much gentler now, slide up your sides, one cupping your chin to guide your face back up to his.
He mumbles something slurred and soft against your lips, half-words lost in the lazy drag of his mouth as he kisses you again. Humming into each other, eyes fluttering shut to just enjoy the contact.
Only to break apart again as the breakroom door rattles and clicks open, the lock from earlier apparently non-functional as the white-haired cashier from earlier steps inside without looking up from his phone. “I’m going on my break, one of you need to actually work and take over the front—”
Satoru’s impossibly blue eyes lift up to take in the sight, immediately widening as both men tighten their arms around you.
Pupils blowing wide and pale lips splitting into a pervish grin. “Well, damn. Got room for one more?”
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more like this.
“Ma,” he calls out from the living room, empty beer bottle in his hand as he manspreads across the couch. As you step into the room, he looks up at you. “Injured my ankle real bad today, doll. Think I need medical attention.”
Your eyes narrow suspiciously but you remain casual. “The Doctors is open tomorrow if you want to book an appointment. How did-“
“Nah, no need. I think they do home visits now.”
You blink. What the hell was he talking about? “What? Are you going crazy?”
He merely shrugs. “There’s a package in the kitchen for ya, by the way.”
You hesitantly leave the room and head towards the box on the kitchen counter. When you pull out its contents, you release the loudest exasperated sigh ever. A slutty nurse costume. Did your own boyfriend think you were some cheap whore who would dress up as a nurse to please him?
Unfortunately, he got his way. With your face pressed into the cushions of the couch, you writhe and moan into the material, the loud thap thap of Toji’s hips slapping against your ass filling the room.
One hand presses against your lower back and forces you into a deep arch. “Fuckk,” he groans lowly. “Such an obedient little nurse, hm? Letting me fill this tight pussy up.” You moan pornographically as his thrusts become firmer, harder. Your fake uniform is partially ripped, crinkled underneath your boyfriend’s careless grip.
You don’t register his wandering hand until it pressed against your back entrance. You lift your head from the cushion in protest, babbling out a response that was barely intelligible from how fucked out you were. “Toji- ngh- don’t you d-“
His pushes his thumb into your ass. You clench around his cock, annoyingly so, as he easily feels it and knows just how much you secretly enjoy it. “What were you saying, ma?” He asks coyly, a smirk etched onto his scarred lips.
satoru gojo fucking his cute little girlfriend but it’s simply too much!
satoru gojo, who’s fucking you in missionary with his hand on your clit as you claw at his forearm, you just can’t handle both at once!
“wait, wait, wait!” you exclaim as you try to wiggle away from his relentless hips, “feels…”
“i know honey, where are you going?” he coos as his free hand moves to yank you back into place. it really is too much though! you try to warn him, pressing against his abs with your hands and looking at him with pleading eyes.
“satoru! stop!” you pull back just enough for his dick to slip out but not for his thumb to leave your clit. you throw your head back as you squirt all over his hand, yours still weakly trying to push him away. he lets out a huff in i disbelief as you still try to scramble away. his thumb on your clit doesn’t stop though, shoving you into overstimulation.
“please! just-” you try to plead with him. it’s no use. he pins you up against the head board and shoves his dick back inside with one quick thrust. your legs shake from where they’ve landed on his shoulders as your eyes roll back into your head.
“oh no baby, we aren’t stopping until you do that again for me”
