you wake to the weight of him already pressing into the mattress beside you, the heat of his body seeping through the thin sheet. the morning light filters through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the room, and satoru is propped on one elbow, watching you with those half-lidded eyes that make your stomach clench. he doesn't say anything for a long moment, just traces a lazy finger down your collarbone, over the curve of your breast, stopping to circle your nipple until it stiffens under his touch.
“morning,” your boyfriend murmurs, voice rough with sleep, and the word is a promise.
you shift, stretching into his hand, and he takes that as permission. the sheet falls away as he leans down, mouth replacing fingers, tongue flat against your nipple before he sucks it between his lips. a soft gasp escapes you, hand finding its way into his white hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. he hums against your skin, the vibration traveling straight to your cunt, and you feel yourself already starting to slick up.
his free hand slides down your stomach, over your hip, fingers dipping between your legs. he doesn't rush, doesn't push, just traces the line of your slit through the damp fabric of your underwear, collecting the wetness that's already beading there. “fuck, you're soaked,” he breathes, pulling back just enough to look at you, that lazy grin spreading across his face. “been dreaming about me?”
you don't answer with words. you hook your leg over his hip, grinding your clothed cunt against his hand, and he takes the hint. his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down your thighs, and you lift your hips to help. he tosses them somewhere off the bed, not caring where they land, and then his hand is back, naked this time, two fingers sliding through your folds, collecting your wetness before he presses them inside.
the stretch is sweet, familiar, and you buck into his hand as he curls his fingers, finding that spot that makes your vision blur. he watches your face, that grin never quite leaving his lips, but his eyes are dark, hungry. “that's it,” he coaxes, pumping his fingers in and out, thumb pressing against your clit in slow, deliberate circles. “let me hear you.”
you're already breathless, hips moving in time with his hand, and when he adds a third finger, the pressure makes you gasp. he's not rushing, taking his time, working you open at a pace that's almost cruel. you can feel yourself clenching around his fingers, your body begging for more, and he knows it. he knows exactly what you need, and he's going to make you wait.
“satoru,” you whine, and the sound comes out broken, desperate.
“yeah?” he leans down, lips brushing your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “want my cock, don't you?”
“yes,” you gasp, and he pulls his fingers out slowly, deliberately, dragging them through your wetness one last time before he brings them to his own lips. he curls his tongue around them, tasting you, and the sight makes your cunt clench around nothing.
“god, you taste good,” he mutters, and then he's shifting, kneeling between your legs, his cock already hard and leaking against his stomach. he doesn't bother with his boxers, just pushes them down enough to free himself, and the first sight of him in the morning light makes your mouth water. he's thick, flushed, the head slick with pre-cum, and the way he strokes himself once, twice, before lining up with your entrance is almost too much.
he doesn't push in right away. he just rests the head against your soaked folds, sliding it through your wetness, teasing you both. your hips lift, trying to take him, but he holds still, that grin turning wolfish. “what's the hurry? we've got all morning.”
“i need you,” you say, and it's not an exaggeration. your whole body is aching for him, your cunt clenching on air, your nipples hard and sensitive against the cool air. you reach down, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, guiding him to where you need him most, and he finally gives in.
satoru pushes in slow, inch by inch, and the stretch is everything. your walls part around him, welcoming him, and the feeling of being filled so completely makes you moan. he doesn't stop until his hips are flush against yours, his balls pressing against your ass, and he stays there, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of him buried inside you.
“fuck, you're tight,” he breathes, forehead dropping to yours. “always so tight for me.”
you wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, and that's all the encouragement he needs. he pulls out almost all the way, just the tip still inside, and then snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. the sound that escapes you is part moan, part scream, and he does it again, and again, building a rhythm that has the bed creaking beneath you.
the morning air fills with the sounds of your bodies meeting—wet, obscene, perfect. each thrust hits deep, the head of his cock pressing against that sensitive spot inside you, and you can feel your orgasm building already, coiling low in your belly. he's not holding back now, his pace quickening, his breath coming in ragged pants against your ear.
“look at me,” he commands, and you do, meeting those blue eyes that are almost black with lust. “i want to see your face when you come.”
his hand finds your clit, thumb pressing down in tight circles, and that's all it takes. the orgasm crashes over you, sudden and overwhelming, your back arching off the mattress, a cry tearing from your throat. your walls clench around him, milking his cock, and he groans, fucking you through it, not slowing down for a second.
“fuck, that's it,” he growls, and you can feel him thickening inside you, feel the twitch that means he's close. “gonna fill you up. gonna pump you so full.”
you're still trembling from the aftershocks when he buries himself one last time, hips stuttering, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he comes. you feel it—hot, wet, pouring into you, filling you in a way that makes your oversensitive cunt clench again. he rides it out, grinding against you, making sure every drop is buried deep.
when he finally stills, his weight settles on top of you, his cock still twitching inside you. he kisses your neck, your jaw, finally your mouth, and the kiss is lazy, spent, tasting of salt and morning breath.
“good morning,” he mumbles against your lips, and you laugh, the sound weak and breathless.
but he's not done. you feel him stirring inside you again, already half-hard, and he pulls back just enough to look at you with that familiar, wicked grin. “round two?”
before you can answer, he's moving, shifting his weight, rolling you onto your stomach. your knees find the mattress without prompting, your body already remembering this position from countless other mornings. he settles behind you, his chest pressing against your back, one hand bracing on the bed beside your head while the other guides his cock back to your slick, well-fucked cunt.
he pushes in with one smooth motion, and the angle is different, deeper, hitting a spot that makes your fingers curl into the sheets. he starts slow at first, drawing out each thrust, letting you feel every inch of him dragging along your walls. the wet sounds come back, mixed with your choked moans and his low curses.
“you take me so fucking well,” he grunts, one hand moving from the bed to grip your hip, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave bruises. “you love feeling my cock in you, don't you?”
“yes,” you gasp, pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts.
he reaches around, hand sliding down your belly, fingers finding your clit again. you're already so sensitive from the first orgasm that the touch makes you gasp, but he doesn't relent, rubbing you in tight circles as he fucks into you. the pleasure is almost too much, bordering on pain, and it only makes you wetter.
his pace quickens, his breathing growing ragged. the headboard starts knocking against the wall with each thrust, and he doesn't care. you can't care, either—all that exists is the feeling of him inside you, his hand on your clit, his breath hot on your neck.
“gonna come again,” he says, his voice strained. “gonna come inside you and you're gonna take it all.”
“i will,” you manage, and the words are your undoing. his hips slam against yours, once, twice, and then he's shuddering behind you, a low moan torn from his throat as he spills into you again. the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you, the heat of his cum filling you, tips you over the edge, your own orgasm washing through you in waves, your cunt milking him dry.
he collapses over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his lips trailing lazy kisses along your spine. you're both panting, slick with sweat, the room smelling of sex and morning light.
after a long moment, he pulls out slow, and you feel the rush of his cum leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs. he watches, his hand coming down to push some of it back inside, his fingers gentle but deliberate.
“stay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “let it soak in.”
you laugh, the sound soft and content, and roll onto your back to face him. he looks debauched, his hair a mess, his lips swollen, his chest flushed. he's beautiful in a way that makes your heart ache.
satoru grins, sliding back up to capture your mouth in a slow, deep kiss. his hand traces down your side, resting on your hip, thumb stroking the damp skin. “breakfast,” he says against your lips, “or another round?”
your legs are shaking, your cunt sore and full of his cum, and the thought of another round sends a shiver through you. but you can feel his cock against your thigh, already stirring again, and you know your answer before you speak.
“another round,” you whisper, pulling him down to you.
he laughs, the sound muffled against your mouth, and this time when he enters you, it's slow, gentle, a different kind of claiming. the morning stretches out before you, and neither of you is in any hurry to let it end.
NSFW. boyfriend!satoru just can’t stop playing with your tits
The very first time you slept with Satoru, you immediately knew he was a certified tit guy.
He’d spent what felt like forever massaging them, sucking on your nipples, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh—completely lost in it—while you were practically throbbing and dying for him to finally fuck you.
Two years later, nothing had changed. If anything, he’d only gotten worse.
He touched them every single chance he got: insisting on showering together just so he could lather your breasts with slippery soap and play with them under the hot water, absentmindedly teasing your nipples when he slung an arm around your shoulders on the couch, and even sucking melted ice cream straight off them like it was the most natural thing in the world.
But your ovulation week? That was his absolute favorite.
Your tits always swelled up—rounder, heavier, impossibly more sensitive. And today was one of those days.
It was stupidly hot, so you’d skipped the bra entirely and thrown on your usual lazy outfit at home: tiny sleep shorts and a thin, loose tank top with spaghetti straps.
You hadn’t thought twice about it… until you felt Satoru’s gaze burning into you.
“Fuck,” he breathed, mouth hanging open, eyes glued to your chest. “They’re practically spilling out over the edge of that little top, baby.”
Before you could even respond, he closed the distance in five long strides. One large hand settled possessively on your waist, pulling you flush against him, while the other boldly traced slow, reverent circles over the full, heavy curve of your breast.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, voice already husky. “Look at you. So fucking full today.”
His thumb brushed over your nipple through the thin fabric, and it stiffened instantly, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight between your legs. A low, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest.
He didn’t wait for permission. He never really did when it came to your tits. In one smooth motion, he tugged the strap of your tank top down your shoulder, freeing one breast completely. The cool air hit your heated skin, making your nipple tighten even more.
Satoru’s eyes darkened with hunger.
He leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue over it slowly, savoring the way you shivered. Then he latched on, sucking greedily while his hand continued kneading the soft, overflowing flesh of your other breast.
You could feel how hard he already was against your stomach
He pulled back just enough to speak, lips glistening, voice wrecked. “C’mere. I need both of them in my mouth.”
Without warning, he scooped you up like you weighed nothing and carried you to the couch, dropping down with you straddling his lap. He yanked the other strap down, fully exposing your chest, and buried his face between your tits with a deep, contented groan.
His hands never stopped moving—squeezing, pushing them together, thumbs flicking over your sensitive peaks as he alternated between sucking and licking like a man starved.
You were getting so turned on watching him play with your tits that you didn’t think twice. You slid off his lap, dropped to your knees in front of him, and eagerly pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock. It sprang out, hard and flushed, already glistening at the tip. The sight made your mouth water.
You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body burning with need, the heat intensified by your ovulation.
“Oh god, you’re gonna spoil me rotten baby” he said softly, almost in awe as you pressed your swollen tits around his length.
You pushed them together tightly, enveloping him in soft, warm flesh. Then, looking up at him, you parted your lips and let your tongue hang out obediently, waiting.
“Fuck— that’s it,” he moaned, eyes darkening. “Such a good girl.”
He started thrusting slowly between your breasts, savoring every slide. With each upward thrust, the flushed head of his cock brushed against your waiting tongue, leaving a trail of salty precum on it.
“You’re getting so turned on, aren’t you?” he murmured, voice sweet and filthy at the same time. “I can see it in your eyes…Bet you’re already soaking those little shorts for me.”
He kept a steady rhythm, fucking your tits while his hands gently squeezed and played with them, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples and your own hands.
“Feels so fucking good… warm and soft,” he groaned, hips stuttering a little when the tip of his cock dragged across your tongue again. “You drive me crazy.”
Your cheeks were flushed, thighs pressing together as the ache between your legs grew stronger. Every thrust made you wetter, your body throbbing with need while he used your heavy, sensitive breasts exactly how he wanted.
Satoru’s breathing grew heavier, his thrusts a little faster, but he held back, clearly trying not to cum yet. He wanted to save it for your pussy.
“C’mon, baby,” he rasped, voice rough with desire. “I’ll fuck you nice and deep just like you need.”
He suddenly stood up, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you toward the bedroom, kissing you hungrily on the way. His hard cock pressed against your soaked shorts with every step.
Once he laid you down on the bed, he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and full of lust.
“I’m gonna cum so much inside you…” he murmured against your lips, voice low and filthy, “I’ll fill you up until it takes.”
You whimpered at his words, a rush of heat flooding your body as you imagined it — your belly swelling, your tits growing even bigger and heavier, and Satoru being even more obsessed with them, sucking and fucking them while you were pregnant.
He smirked, noticing the way your thighs squeezed together.
“Yeah? You like that idea, don’t you?” he teased, sliding his hand between your legs. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure to abuse these pretty tits even more when they’re full of milk.”
“I wish I had someone strong to rely on” you said to ragebait your boyfriend. Unfortunately for you, Satoru took that very personally and now you’re too busy choking on him to take it back ♡
cr: @_3aem on X
CW: NSFW. rough face fucking. Throat bulge. Choking. Deepthroating. Cum on face. Spitting in the mouth. Size kink
-
You were both lounging on the couch, simply enjoying each other’s company after a long day. Satoru looked way too relaxed, so obviously you had to do something about it.
A mischievous smile tugged at your lips before you let out a dramatic sigh.
“Ugh… Sometimes I wish I had someone strong to rely on”
Satoru slowly turned his head toward you, phone completely forgotten. His blue eyes narrowed, that signature cocky grin twitching like it couldn’t decide whether to laugh or snarl.
“…Excuse me?”
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing.
“I just thought about it, I don’t know” you shrugged innocently.
He tossed his phone aside and in one fluid motion yanked you into his lap, making you straddle him.
“You’re literally dating me” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Yeah, but like…” You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “I’m talking about someone really strong”
Satoru looked at you with a mix of amusement and mild condescension. “I am really strong.”
“Mmm…” You traced a slow pattern on his arm, pretending to think deeply. “But, like… stronger”
His eyes narrowed “Stronger than who?”
You gave a casual shrug. “I don’t know”
“Yuki?”
“No.”
“Yuta?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
You sighed dramatically. “I don’t know, Toru. Someone… elite”
He looked genuinely offended. “You do realize I’m already at the top, right?”
“Mhm”
Satoru sat up straighter, hands still firmly on your hips. “You’re literally living with the peak of humanity. I’m the measuring—”
“I’m just saying…” you purred, leaning in closer “sometimes a girl wants to feel protected by someone really powerful, Satoru~”
“Oh” he said, a dangerous glint entering his eyes. “You are absolutely ragebaiting me.”
“Am I?” you asked sweetly.
“Okay,” he murmured, his legs parting wider to accommodate you, grinding his crotch firmly against yours to make sure you felt exactly what you were dealing with. His voice dropped an octave, dripping with ego and possessiveness. “Keep talking then. Tell me again how you wish you had someone strong. I dare you. Let’s see how long you can keep that attitude before I fuck it right out of you”
You smiled innocently. “…Sometimes I really wish I had som—”
Satoru growled and pulled you flush against him.
“Oh, you are so getting it tonight.”
You laughed against his neck, victorious, as his hands slid under your shirt.
—
Well, in fact, he was really fucking it right out of you.
After fucking you senseless on the couch, Satoru finally pulled out, leaving you trembling and dripping with your own fluids. Your legs were still shaking, your breathing ragged as you tried to recover.
But he wasn’t done.
He stood up in front of you, towering over your seated figure. His cock was still rock hard, glistening with your juices, thick and heavy as it bobbed right in front of your face. A smug, slightly mean smirk played on his lips while he looked down at your dazed expression.
“Look at you…” he murmured, voice low and rough. “All trembling and messy because of me. And you still had the nerve to say you wanted someone stronger?”
He gripped the base of his thick cock and started slowly dragging it across your face. The heavy weight of it slapped softly against your cheek, then your other cheek, leaving a wet trail of precum and your own arousal on your skin. He rubbed the swollen head along your lips, teasingly smearing it back and forth.
“Open your mouth” he ordered.
You parted your lips obediently, tongue out waiting for him, but Satoru leaned forward slightly and spat directly into your mouth, a thick string of saliva landing on your tongue.
You couldn’t stop the broken whimper coming from your throat.
“Swallow” he commanded.
You did, eyes locked on his.
“Good girl,” he praised, but his tone was still edged with that possessive arrogance. “Now let’s put that bratty mouth to better use.”
With both of his large hands he grabbed the sides of your head, his long fingers practically enveloping your skull. His grip was firm, controlling, leaving you with nowhere to go.
He pushed the thick head of his cock past your lips, sliding it over your tongue until he hit the back of your throat. Then, without warning, he thrust forward hard, burying himself deep in one powerful motion.
You gagged instantly, your throat tightening around his heavy cock. Saliva immediately started dripping from the corners of your mouth, running down your chin.
Your eyes widened when you felt it — the obscene bulge in your throat. Every brutal inch of his cock stretched your neck from the inside, the thick outline of his shaft clearly visible under your skin as he forced himself all the way in.
“Fuck— look at that,” Satoru groaned, eyes darkening with raw lust. He kept one hand on your head while the other slid down to wrap around your throat, his palm pressing lightly over the prominent bulge. “You can see me right here, baby. So fucking deep.”
He started fucking your throat with deep, rough strokes, watching mesmerized as the bulge in your neck moved up and down in time with his thrusts. Your throat convulsed violently around him, the obscene outline of his cock appearing and disappearing with every snap of his hips.
Your jaw ached from how wide you had to stretch around his thickness, but you were so ridiculously wet that the discomfort only made you throb more. You were certain you could cum just from this.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and soon spilled down your cheeks as he thrust harder, burying himself to the hilt again and again. You could feel his heavy cock pulsing against your tongue, the veiny underside dragging along it while the bulge in your throat kept shifting under his fingers.
You gagged wetly around him, loud and messy. The wet, obscene sounds of him fucking your throat filled the room.
“Breathe through your nose, baby” he cooed mockingly, still thrusting deep, his thumb stroking the bulge in your neck. “You asked for it, now take it”
He picked up the pace, pulling you forward to meet his hips as he drove into your throat. Your eyes watered uncontrollably, tears streaming down your face while you looked up at him with hazy, fucked-out eyes.
Satoru’s breathing grew heavier, his abs tensing as he got closer.
“Fuck… I’m gonna cum all over this pretty face” he growled.
He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He stroked himself fast and hard right in front of you.
“Look at me” he demanded.
You did, mouth open and tongue out. With a deep, guttural groan, Satoru came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum shot across your face in powerful spurts. He kept pumping his cock, milking every last drop onto you until your face was a complete mess.
When he finally finished, he let out a long, satisfied breath and looked down at his work with a dark, proud smirk.
“Fuck… you look so much better like this,” he murmured, thumb gently spreading some of his cum across your bottom lip. “All mine”
He crouched down in front of you, still towering slightly, and wiped your eyes carefully with his fingers so you could see properly. Then he leaned in and kissed your forehead, surprisingly soft despite everything.
“Still wish you had someone stronger?” he asked, voice husky but affectionate now.
You could barely speak, but you managed a weak, breathless smile. “…Maybe tomorrow.”
Satoru chuckled and pulled you into his arms, lifting you easily from the couch.
fratboy satoru gojo gets too possessive during sex because of his secret ; 18+
this is part one. part two is here!
satoru gojo, the man whom you had given your heart to after he had been courting you for two months. at first, it didn’t make sense to you nor your friends.
satoru gojo, the man in the fraternity, who would ingest vodka in a shot while having a marlboro adorning his fingers.
satoru gojo, who would be known to satisfy himself to the exploding basses of incoherent music, flashes of purple, green and red lights embracing his party freak nature.
satoru gojo who would have a (new) girl every week, her grasping on to his sturdy forearm as they stumbled in to cramped dorms.
satoru gojo, who had the reputation of being a charmer who couldn’t obtain a relationship— not because there was something lacking within him, but, because he never understood the importance of having some sort of romantic established connection.
so, you did wonder as to why satoru would try to get your attention, your time, your words. you were nothing like him.
in fact, you guys were truly polar opposites. your faculties didn’t align (he was in business, you were in humanities), your personalities didn’t align (he was an extrovert, you were an introvert) and most of all, your reputation (he was a fraternity member, you were known as the quiet, shy girl who refrained from engaging with men without necessity).
so, truly, how did it get here?
where your cheeks were pressed on to the mellow cotton of the pillow. where the white sheets of the bed were heavily wrinkled because of the way you clenched it within your fists. where you tried to mutter out his name in any way possible, “sa-satoru—mhm”. where you didn’t know if you wanted him to slow his pace down or keep going at this rate like a brute animal.
his cock was expanding in your hole it seemed, the firm veins were pulsating against your plush walls. his tip, the oh so pink tinted head of his cock you had come to love was stimulating your cervix. his balls were slapping on to your pounded pussy while both his hands held on to your waist, preventing you to move from the maddening position he had you in.
you felt it. his hands had shifted. one of them, framed with veins, had come around to feel the bulge on your womb— signifying to you, that he was in you, too deep. while the other hand spread its large palm on one of your ass cheeks.
“fuck yeah doll, wan’ me to put a baby in this huh?” he groaned, his breath cutting between the words. “wan’ me to, fuck, make you full? leakin’ from me? shit just say yes baby.” you had rested your flustered cheek on to the pillow, your iris moving to the corner to see him. god. he was a vision of pure ecstasy. his white hair too frivolous, the bangs had been plastered on to sweaty forehand, his chest heaving with red scratches from the previous sessions.
you saw the bridge too, not vivid, just a slight blur but enough to make blood rush hastily into your face. creamy paste clustered around the rim of his cock, the base was too slimy, an evidence of the lustrous passion. “no one’s havin’ you like this, fuck, only me. only me. only” he groaned as he slapped against your rim faster and faster.
“shit, i swear i’m gonna marry you, my wife” “need you, ugh, in the mornin’s, noons and nights in my fucking house ’nd my fucked up life” he wouldn’t shut up, not at all. his groans gritted. his voice going sore.
“nobody gets this. this pussy. this body. no one will have you. no one” his breath cut hard. you gasped as he hit the spot too perfect, his entire length inside you. he was ramming into you as his fingers gathered both your dainty wrists behind your back in a single grip.
slap sounds of his skin meeting yours echoed too loud. tomorrow might be awkward with your neighbors.
“i’m never leavin’ you, ngh, never. yer’ not goin’ anywhere from me” he was close, you could tell. his thrusts were way faster now, too fast. rapid with the way he moved while biting his lower lips, plumper shade of red now.
you had already came earlier than him while he had to remove himself and stroke to milk out even the littlest remaining bit.
you were gasping, for air and dissatisfaction from the loss of contact. he was too rough today, contrasting to his usual self— the sweet, the careful and the softly doting.
his clammy palm had slithered its way on to your waist, turning you around. your back on the mattress, your front to his view. you noted around. clothes scattered on floor while the condom box sat lonely on the bedside table because satoru wanted to go raw this time, just to “feel you”.
satoru had finished wiping you with the wet towel, throwing it on the little table, knocking off the durex box. he planted himself beside, close. too close like he wanted to be your second skin. his head rested low on to your chest as you giggled. he had always been very clingy after sex. always liked having his hair played with by you. only you.
“was something wrong today? you were a bit .. rough..” you tentatively asked with a shy gaze on to him, only able to see the slope of his nose and the outline of his lips. he scrambled deeper in to your embrace, his breath exhaling on your spent nipple making you shiver.
“no, just, i love you. so fucking much” it was true. he did love you. you were his first girlfriend in a long time, since middle school.
he loved you. completely and irrevocably.
hence, it haunted him. what if you found out?
what if you found out that the two of you existed together only because of a stupid bet made between him and his friends during an alcoholic stupor.
drinks paid for the whole year if he took your virginity.
got this idea at 3 am and wrote it down immediately! not proofread (will edit later when i can). thinkin about having this as a mini-series.
── .✦ asking bestfriend!gojo for sex advice (wc - 1.6k)
your best friend satoru gojo is the worst person to ask for dating advice. but he's also the only one you trust with this. your first real date in forever is tonight, and you're panicking in his apartment, pacing in a slinky dress that suddenly feels too much.
"satoru," you blurt, cheeks burning. "i... haven't kissed anyone in years. like, properly. what if i suck at it? can you... help? just show me how? so i don't embarrass myself?"
he lounges on the couch, all long limbs and smirking blue eyes, blindfold pushed up like a headband. "you? suck at kissing?" he laughs, but his gaze drops to your lips, lingering. "i don't think so. but sure. c'mere."
you straddle his lap hesitantly, heart hammering. his hands settle light on your hips, casual. "relax. start slow. like this." he cups your jaw, tilting your face down. his lips brush yours—soft, teasing. then firmer, parting them with his tongue. it's electric. he tastes like mint and sugar, licking into your mouth lazy and deep, showing you the rhythm. "see? follow me. good girl, just like that."
you melt into it, kissing back, hands fisting his shirt. his grip tightens. "y-yeah... tilt your head more. open wider. fuck, you're a quick learner." his voice roughens, breath hot against your lips. the kiss turns hungry, his teeth nipping your bottom lip. you whimper, grinding down instinctively, feeling him harden beneath you.
he groans, pulling back just enough to stare, eyes dark. "wait. that's not... you're supposed to save this for the date."
"i know, but—"
satoru pulls back, eyes wide, breath ragged. his hands freeze on your hips, but he doesn't let go. you're still straddling him, lips swollen from kissing, core throbbing from the accidental grind. he glances down at where you're pressed together, his sweats tented obviously. "you trying to kill me here? one second you're asking for kissing tips, next you're... fuck." he shifts, cock twitching under you, and you both hiss.
"sorry! i didn't mean—" you start to scramble off, mortified, but his grip tightens, keeping you in place.
"no, stay." his voice drops, thumb stroking your thigh. blue eyes lock on yours, intense. "just... breathe. okay? dates aren't all tongue and humping. gotta build it up. foreplay. that's what you're missing." he smirks, but it's strained, like he's holding himself back. "lemme show you. properly."
"foreplay?" you echo, pulse racing.
"yeah. like this." his hand slides up your bare thigh under the dress, slow, giving you time to stop him. fingertips ghost over your skin, raising goosebumps. "start light. make him want it." he cups your ass gently, squeezing once. "feel that?"
you nod, biting your lip as heat pools low. he leans in, kissing your neck—soft, open-mouthed, tongue flicking your pulse. "the neck's sensitive. suck here, not too hard." he demonstrates, drawing a moan from you. his free hand trails up your back, fingers dancing along your spine. "and touch him everywhere. not just the obvious spots."
"t-toru..." your hands find his chest, exploring like he said. firm muscle under soft shirt. he shudders when you brush a nipple.
"see? good. now lower." his palm flattens over your stomach, dipping between your legs—but not inside. just presses against your panties, rubbing slow circles over the fabric. "shit… you're soaked already." you're rocking into his hand without thinking. he groans low. "fuck, yeah. perfect."
"i-is this... how you'd do it?" you whisper, hazy.
he stills, eyes darkening. "for you? yeah. but slower. i'd take my time." his finger hooks the edge of your panties, sliding it aside, but pauses. "show me what you learned. touch me."
your hand wraps around his cock under his boxers— pulsing in your grip. you stroke slow like he showed you, thumb swiping the pre-cum beading at the tip and spreading it down. he hisses, hips jerking. "fuck, yeah. just— t-twist a little at the top. shit— jus' like that..."
he rewards you by sliding that finger inside, shallow, then curling. your walls flutter around it. "you like that? feel how full you'd be?" he adds a second, scissoring gentle, thumb on your clit. you moan into his mouth, strokes faltering.
"d-don't stop," he murmurs, nipping your lip. "keep going. imagine it's his cock you're working."
the thought sours something in him. his thrusts his fingers deeper, harder. "or mine. fuck—mine feels better, right?"
"satoru—"
"the couch is too small for this." he pulls his fingers free suddenly, making you whine at the loss. he stands, lifting you with him as if you weigh nothing,
your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. his grip is firm as he carries you to the bedroom, the moonlight from the window casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. he lays you down gently, the dress bunching around your hips, his eyes devouring you—swollen lips, flushed skin, the desperate rise and fall of your chest.
"you're so fucking beautiful like this," he murmurs, voice thick with want, his blindfold still pushed up, those piercing blue eyes locked on yours. "all worked up, wet for me. and it's me, not him, you're thinking about right now, isn't it?"
he doesn't wait for an answer, his hands shoving his sweats down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, already dripping. he strokes himself once, twice, smearing the pre-cum over the head, and you can't look away. "jealousy's a nasty thing, huh?" he says, climbing over you, his weight settling between your thighs. "thinking about you with someone else, some other guy touching you... it makes me want to make sure you forget anyone else's name."
he hooks a finger under your panties, tearing them aside with a sharp rip of fabric, exposing you to the cool air. "no more practice. no more saving it for the date. this is happening now."
he lines himself up, the blunt head pressing against your entrance, already slick from his fingers and your own arousal. "tell me you want this," he murmurs, his breath hot on your neck. "tell me you want me, not him." he pushes in slowly, just the tip, stretching you open, and you gasp, your hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging in.
"s'toru, yesyesyes— p-please, i want you, only you!!—" the words spill out, desperate and true, and he groans, slamming the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt in one rough thrust.
"fuuck— s-s'tight, so perfect for me, baby. you're doin' great," he groans, his voice a low rasp against your ear, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. you whimper, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he holds himself still inside you, the fullness overwhelming, stretching you to the limit.
"a-aaahn... satoru... i-it's too much...!" you gasp, your head falling back against the pillow, your body trembling around his cock. he doesn't move at first, just stays buried deep, letting you feel every inch of him, his hips grinding in a slow circle, pressing against your clit with friction.
"you'll take what i give you." he pants, his lips brushing your ear, his breath hot and minty. "this is what you asked for, right?"
"y-yes..." you moan, your voice breaking as he grinds harder, the sensation building a deep ache in your core. "oh god—" he pulls back almost all the way, the drag of his cock making you whimper at the loss, the wet slide of him leaving you empty for a heartbeat, then thrusts back in, harder this time, the bed frame creaking under the force.
"yeah, take it. take all of me. atta girl," his hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you down to meet each thrust. you cry out, a sharp "ahh!" escaping your lips as he hits that spot deep inside, your walls clenching around him reflexively. "god, you're clenching already... greedy little thing."
he drives into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. "mmph... toru!! h-harder— please— i-i need—" you beg, your hands sliding down his back, nails scraping lightly.
"you were so worried about kissing," he taunts, his voice rough with effort, his thrusts never slowing. "look at you now. such a slut, fucked stupid on my cock."
his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles as he pounds into you, and you clench around him, your orgasm building fast, a tight coil in your belly. he leans down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue plunging deep, mimicking the rhythm of his hips. you moan into his mouth, your body arching up against him, desperate for more.
"you taste so sweet," he murmurs against your lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "but i need you to cancel that date. right now. take out your phone and text him. tell him you're sick, you're busy, i don't give a fuck—just— shit— cancel it." his thrusts punctuate each word, driving the point home, and you gasp, your mind hazy with pleasure.
"satoru... i can't... i'm—ahh!" you cry out as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, his fingers tightening on your clit.
"you can and you will," he insists, his voice dropping to a possessive grunt. "you're not going anywhere tonight. you're staying here with me, letting me fuck you until you forget your own name. now text him."
[ SERIES SYNOPSIS ] — it was obvious when this started, it was simply a mutual understanding between two horny college students — with very high libidos, and didn’t want any random stds — that this was purely a sexual relationship only. and yet, both of you are unintentionally toeing the line between that and something else. [ frat!kuna fwb series ]
[ TAGS ] — MDNI. 18+ nsfw. contains explicit sexual themes and content. piv. angst. friends with benefits. toxic frat culture. hazing. fraternity/sororities. hurt/comfort. hurt/no comfort. SLOW BURN. fluff. spit. ráw. rough. heavy spanking. degradation. dacryphilia. slight exhibitionisim. pda. soft sukuna. choso + yuuji r his younger brothers. every position. heavy creampies. violence. depression/anxiety. anger issues. squirting. cockwarming. alcohol. family death. family trauma. reader slightly oc. sukuna is a football (soccer) player too. HAPPY ENDING. tags will be updated as series continues.
✮ ch 1 || how it all started ✮ ch 2 || miss me already?
✮ ch 3 || call me ✮ ch 4 || two worlds
✮ ch 5 || conditions ✮ ch 6 || cracks
✮ ch 7 || tbd ✮ ch 8 || tbd
✮ ch 9 || tbd ✮ ch 10 || tbd
✮ ch 11 || tbd ✮ ch 12 || tbd
✮ pt 1 — sukuna is starting to toe the line
✮ pt 2 — you’re desperate to prove this is just sex
✮ pt 3 — cockwarming him for the first time
✮ pt 4 — sukuna’s brothers visit unexpectedly
✮ pt 5 — pregnancy scare with sukuna
✮ pt 6 — sukuna has a stash of naked polaroids of you
✮ pt 7 — halloween special: scare actor!sukuna
✮ pt 8 — sukuna’s noticeable bulge at the gym
✮ pt 9 — high stakes no nut november edition
✮ pt 10 — holiday special: grinch!kuna naughty or nice
✮ pt 11 — sukuna leaves his door open when you’re over
✮ pinterest board ✮ ask tag ✮ main masterlist ✮ ao3 ✮
[ INFO ] : the chapters are the actual series. it begins mid-spring semester JUNIOR year. the parts exist in the same story, but as stand alone canon oneshots and will not be mentioned in the chapters. they take place between sept-nov fall semester of their SENIOR year [parts and chps can be read separately]
THERE IS NO SERIES TAGLIST ✦ age should be visible on your blog — (art: @/xhealer_ tiktok, dividers: @/lariesographic )
Me and The Devil | modern day sorcerer!sukuna x sorcerer!reader
summary: when you first meet him, you have no idea what his technique is. all you know is that he's this big, beefy guy covered in tattoos—an absolute unit. he's the cockiest out of all of special grade sorcerers though, so it has to be something good. based off this blurb
content & warnings: AFAB reader, graphic depictions of violence, profanity, explicit smut, sukuna abuses his curse technique (he transforms into his true form self mid-fuck), p in v sex, hair pulling, creampie
w/c: 5.6k
a/n: i think this just might be my most annoying sukuna yet LOL. anyways, this was just an idea i had, based in a world where gege either has a heart or just doesn't exist. enjoy sukuna being a little slut!!
m.list | next part
The jujutsu world sucked, but transferring from the Kyoto branch to the Tokyo branch made it suck a little less. Now that you think about it, all of the special grade sorcerers are based in Tokyo.
Two of them are actually teachers—Gojo and Geto.
It wasn’t an easy road getting here though, Gakuganji was not happy when you turned in the transfer papers, and made it known during those last two weeks through the missions you were assigned.
You were a grade 1, so you obviously had the ability to take on tougher cases when need be, but he made your life a living hell by giving you missions back to back– from 8:00 am to 8:00 pm, you worked.
You’d think an old man who’s covered in piercings and listens to black sabbath would be chill, but he’s a petty bitch, just like the rest of the highers up.
Even the students here are nicer and it’s probably because Principal Yaga was actually a good person, which is rare in this industry. It makes your life easier with the upcoming promotions. You offered to take a couple students under your wing, in turn you will be recommending them.
You say taking them under your wing lightly. In reality, you’re just making them do your missions for you. If they for any reason need help– which they shouldn’t– then you’ll step in to exorcise the curse yourself.
“Ready to go Megumi?” You ask as he walks up to you. You were taking him with you to a mission that was out of town, it was around 2 hours away via train ride.
“Yeah,” he gruffly responds, as angsty as ever. You have no idea how he’s gotten along with Gojo all these years, they’re the complete opposites. Not that you’re complaining, he’s a smart kid, he won’t be asking you any dumb questions on the trip there.
“Wait!”
You both hear someone call out from a good distance. From the way they yelped it out, you can only guess it’s Ijichi.
You both stop and turn around. “We were ju–”
“WHAT?!” Megumi cuts you off, yelling at the man who’s already struggling to catch up, the scowl on his face continuing to grow. He’s spent a majority of his childhood having to wait on his benefactor that was voluntarily late for everything—in turn, he hates wasting time.
You had to hold back a laugh, he didn’t have to be that rude. You’re guessing it's learned behavior from Gojo. Ijichi runs a little faster, you have no idea how he’d let a teenager just bully him like that, but you guess it’s from the years of a certain sorcerer breaking down his spirit.
“I just received some new information about the mission you’re headed to,” he says, out of breath, trying his best not to keel over.
“Is it being given to someone else?” you ask.
“Kind of,” he says as he stands upright, heart rate finally settled. “One of the curses is actually special grade– we decided that you two could stay on it, just as long as a special grade sorcerer went with you. That way, Megumi can have two recommendations and get that promotion.”
“Well that's good. Who’s going with us then.”
“The only special grade sorcerer available right now is Sukun–”
“Oh great,” you scoff.
“Is.. there a problem with that?” Ijichi nearly squeaks out, he’s not used to getting an attitude from you, you’re usually nice to him.
“No,” you sigh, it doesn’t sound very convincing to him or the younger sorcerer. “When is he coming?”
“He said he was on his way, he’ll be here in about 15 to 20 minutes. He also said to meet him at the front of the school.”
“Kay.” You cross your arms and turn to walk towards the stairs at the entrance. “Let’s go Megumi,” you order the kid.
Usually he’d show some sort of pushback from being told around like that, but nothing scared him more than a woman in a bad mood, so he quietly followed behind you.
Sukuna is the last person you wanted to go on this mission with. You had hoped Yuki would’ve been the one to come along– luck has never been on your side though. Truth be told, you didn’t even know he was a sorcerer, let alone a special grade when you first met him.
It may have been a little prejudiced of you to immediately brush off the fact that he could’ve been a part of the jujutsu world based on the way he dressed, but can anyone blame you? He dresses like a bum– not even bothering to wear normal clothes, let alone jujutsu uniforms! Every single time you’ve seen him, he’s in a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt.
On top of that, he’s an arrogant asshole, he thinks he’s the shit, as if he was gods gift to earth. You still don’t even know what his technique is, everyone just says he’s “a beast”, whatever the hell that means.
You would ask, but the last thing you want is to have a conversation with him, it’ll probably just end with him asking you what your bra size is, because he’s a fucking pervert. And you fully believe that from all the encounters you’ve had with him so far– the last one being just downright embarrassing.
The worst part about it was you didn’t even do anything. You had just gotten back from a full day of exorcising curses, turning in your paperwork, more than ready to go home afterwards. You were exhausted, yet you still had to wait for Principal Yaga to finish up an interview he was having with a potential new student.
So there you were in the common area, staring off into space, because you were tired– then you hear the voice that you’ve grown to feel agitation towards whenever it infiltrates your ears.
“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”
You almost immediately snap out of it. “Huh?”
“I said my eyes are up here,” Sukuna points at them as he repeats himself. “You’ve been staring at my ass for the past five minutes– a lil’ perverted don’t you think?”
“No I wasn’t,” you grimaced at the accusation.
For someone like Sukuna, any sort of reaction makes him want to tease you even more. “What were you staring at then?”
“I wasn’t staring at anything, I just dozed off,” you try to explain yourself.
He believes you, but he’s bored and you’re fun to pick on. He nods as if he understands your struggles, then continues to add to them. “You took one look at it and started daydreaming, huh? How flattering”
“Nobody’s staring at your fucking ass!” you snap at him and he looks rather pleased with himself. Geto just laughs, knowing damn well that it just encourages him to keep going.
Your heart drops when he starts walking towards you, grinning like an idiot.
“No,” you say out loud, getting up from your seat.
“Whad’ya mean no? C'mere,” he chuckles, getting closer. “I know you want some of this.” He holds his arms out, shamelessly offering himself to you.
“You’re so fucking delusional, Sukuna,” you scoff over your shoulder, continuing to walk away from him. “Stay away from me.”
That all happened a month ago, and is still fresh in your memory. You’ve been dreading the thought of seeing him again, and now you’re supposed to spend the entire day with him. You really hated being a sorcerer sometimes.
At the 17 minute mark, he pulls up in a black BMW. It does not surprise you one bit, he makes a shit ton of money.
Without a word, you and Megumi get in. You were hoping he’d sit in the front seat, but he for some reason decides to actually be respectful towards adults today, and sits in the back. There’s already a smile on his face when you open the door. It’s not sincere, it’s antagonizing and you want to smack it off of him.
“Always a pleasure seeing you, sweetheart,” he drawls out, ignoring the teen in the back.
“Wish I could say the same,” you mumble back, buckling your seatbelt.
Megumi cautiously looks back and forth between you two from the backseat. The tension between you both is a thousand times worse than the tension between Gojo and Utahime.
“Still butthurt over last time?” he asks, picking up where he left off last time in terms of annoying the shit out of you.
“What happened last time?” Megumi cuts in. For once you wish he’d mind his business and go on his phone. Nobara was right, he is a little gossiper.
“I caught her st–”
“Nothing, Megumi,” you stop the man from finishing that sentence. You reach in your bag and take out a small pack of rice crackers and hand them to him, Gojo said they were his favorite snack. “Here, it’s gonna be a long ride, just relax until then.”
“Got any more for me?” Sukuna asks.
“You have the address right?” you ask, ignoring his question.
“Of course,” he murmurs, pulling it up on the gps.
“Great.”
You let out a sigh, allowing your body to relax despite how much the special grade asshole triggers your fight or flight response. Thank god for earphones, you popped them in before he could find another way to mentally torture you.
The only brightside to having him drive you both to the site is that it took 45 minutes instead of 2 hours, freeing up a couple hours of your day. In this line of work, there’s nothing you appreciate more than extra time.
“Alright, we're here,” you hear Sukuna announce through the earbuds, prompting you to take them out.
You look out the window to look at the old, abandoned hospital. You had your work cut out for you today, not only is there a special grade curse in there, but it’s riddled with weaker ones ranging between grades 1-3.
The three of you step out of the car and scan the outside of the building, it’s one of the more eerie places sorcerers get sent to in terms of missions. You think about your younger, first-year self and how terrified she would’ve been of this place— thank god you’re not that girl anymore.
Sukuna takes the initiative to cast a veil before leading you two to the closest place you could get to hell on earth. He’s not fazed by it, he walks into the eroded building without a care in the world, he’s taken missions like this a million times by now.
Megumi knows the drill by now– weaker curses attack first, so you and Sukuna stand back while you watch him exorcise all of them one by one. He tries to start small talk with you, to which you pretend not to hear him. When he raises his voice in order for you to hear him, you tell him you’re trying to watch Megumi because you are his temporary guardian for the day.
It’s whatever, he’ll get his chance to bother you again, eventually.
30 minutes in, you’re fighting alongside Megumi because the stronger curses had finally started to reveal themselves. All while Sukuna continues to stay back and “observe”. Apparently he’s “reserving his energy” for when the big one pops up, but truth be told, he thinks he’s way too good to fight the more menial curses, leaving you and the boy to it.
Neither of you were injured or showing signs of struggles anyways, he tells himself that you both had it all under control.
Curses stop popping up… eventually. Both you and Megumi looked battered– clothes dirtied, a couple bruises here and there, out of breath because at one point they literally wouldn’t stop coming at you.
And then there’s Sukuna– completely unscathed. Now that you think about it, the curses completely avoided him, you wonder why.
“It’s here but it doesn’t wanna show itself,” he says, referring to the last one. “Guess I’m just gonna have to pull it out of hiding.”
At this point, the three of you were in the back of the building, it allows Sukuna to completely flatten the place with just a flick of the wrist. You were about to finally ask what his technique was, but you don’t get the chance because an absolute behemoth of a curse pops up.
The thing is huge, you have no idea how it was able to hide within the old hospital, it was about ¼ the size of what the building used to be before Sukuna demolished it.
“Step back,” he looks over his shoulder and grins, lazily walked up to the thing, “I got this.”
You don't miss the way the curse takes a step back, as if it were reluctant to fight him. It made you think of when the curses from earlier were avoiding him and going straight to you and Megumi. It brings you to the realization that they were all afraid of him, including this one.
“Why is he taking his shirt off?” you ask Megumi, who’s not at all fazed by Sukuna stripping.
“Just wait,” he mumbles back, studying the man intently—trying to see if he can learn something from him.
You’re also studying Sukuna, but your attention’s more so on how godly his physique is. As if he couldn’t be anymore striking looks wise– his chest and back were even more defined than you’d imagined them to be, both adorned with tattoos. He even has nipple piercings. Some people just had it all, and Sukuna was unfortunately one of them.
Your attention’s taken off of his nipple piercings when he gets into a defensive stance and does some weird hand sign—something similar to Megumi whenever he summons his shikigami. The ground beneath him begins to thrum, flames start to spark all around him.
So his technique’s been fire this whole time?
You think he's going to lay out his domain, but it's something much more interesting.
His body changes– taking on a monstrous form. A second pair of arms emerge from the flames, an extra pair of eyes burned through his face. He looks like something that came straight out of hell.
But why's he kinda…
“Holy fuck,” you mumble under your breath. It finally clicks as to why he dresses like a fucking bum.
“Yeah,” the teen agrees with you. There’s a reason why he didn’t protest like he usually would when Ijichi said Sukuna was coming along, getting a front row seat to watch him fighting was rare. “He’s the only one that rivals Gojo-sensei.”
You notice his bottom eye glancing at you right before charging at the curse, you swore the curse let out a little yelp too. You almost felt sorry for the thing, it literally tried to run from him, but barely got the chance to turn around before Sukuna stuck all four of his hands into it and ripped it in half.
It was gruesome, you never want to hear the noise it made ever again– but that was a lot to ask for in your line of work.
In the end, it took him 2.5 seconds to exorcise it– you don’t know if you should be impressed or annoyed. You all could’ve been out of here a long time ago had he helped from the beginning.
You continue to watch him, he’s just staring at his blood stained arms and hands before he burns them off– cleaning himself with fire. Once he was done with that, he comes striding back with the usual smug look on his face.
“You enjoy the show?” he asks as he walks back up to you.
Megumi immediately says yes, like a fucking fan. A part of you almost feels betrayed since he doesn’t realize how much time was wasted from him not helping earlier.
“If it was that easy for you, why couldn’t you just help us out earlier?!” you immediately grill him, and he just snickers like a fucking asshole.
“It’s a group mission, sweetheart,” he reminds you as he gets closer, still in his monstrous form. “You two handle the curses in your grade, I handle the one in mine.” He flashes a smile, even his teeth are sharper.
He’s breathtaking.
Not that you’d ever admit that.
“Whatever— you can turn back now,” you avert your eyes from him as you let him know. Why is it getting hot all of the sudden?
“What's the rush for?” he teasingly asks. “Does this form make you nervous? Don’t worry sweetheart, I don’t bite.”
“I’m sure you do with those chompers,” you mumble in return, still refusing to directly look at him.
“Ooof. You wound me baby,” he complains, rubbing his ridiculously chiseled chest as he takes a step closer towards you, well aware of how overwhelming his presence can be in this form.
“Okay ew,” Megumi cuts in, he's had enough of whatever the hell this is. “Can you two wait until I’m not here before you start fucking flirting with each other?”
“We weren’t fl–”
Sukuna cuts you off, “Sure thing.”
Megumi mumbles something under his breath about how disgusting you two are, you don't really catch it though. You were more focused on calming down, which was hard because you could feel Sukuna still looking at you as if he were going to tear you apart next.
His eyes linger on you a little longer before taking his attention off of you completely.
Where did his t-shirt even go?
He flung it to the side, it couldn’t have gone too far. It takes him a couple minutes before he finally finds it– turning back into his original form and putting it back on.
The car ride back was filled with Megumi asking him a bunch of questions while he gladly answered them. You had your ear phones in again, pretending like you weren’t listening, but you were, in hopes of maybe learning something.
To your surprise, you actually do. Your curse technique was air manipulation, you’re pretty sure you can come up with your own version of cleave if you amplified it.
You grudgingly admit to yourself that time really does fly when one’s having fun, because before you knew it, he had pulled up in front of the staircase that led to the school. Megumi was quick to get out, because let’s face it, he is still 15 and more than ready to relax and play video games– or do whatever he likes to do in his free time.
You’re also more than ready to relax, but Sukuna locks the doors right when you reach for the handle.
“What are you doing?”
“I was thinking,” he leans over the console. “You and I started off on the wrong foot.”
“And who’s fault is that?” Your brows knit together.
“No ones,” he so innocently says. “I just never knew that you’d take first impressions that seriously.”
“You made fun of me for a whole 20 minutes after finding out what my technique was,” you remind him.
He clicks his tongue in response, then proceeds to gaslight you. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“You started calling me Aang and The Last Airbender!” you yell and he bursts out laughing because he thinks it’s hilarious. “That’s not funny Sukuna, that was my first week of working here.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry–” he holds his hands up in defense, “I couldn’t fuckin’ help it, it was too easy.” He continues to laugh, not showing an ounce of regret.
“And then you continue to straight up harass me every time you see me!” you continue, hoping he’d get why you’re not the biggest fan of his.
“I don’t harass you,” he continues to deny, what he would consider, accusations from you. “You just held a grudge from that day and never gave me another chance after that.”
“Yeah, because you’re a dick. You wouldn’t even help out during the mission.”
“Let me make it up to you then. How about let’s go grab some drinks or something while I’m still in town, I’ll even pay,” he offers, acting as if he were doing you a favor.
“You wanna grab drinks?”
“Mhm.”
“Like a date?”
“Exactly,” he nods. “You catch on pretty quick.”
You try your best not to laugh in his face, he really doesn’t even try to hide how arrogant he is. You’re about to say no, you really should say no, but then you remember the nipple piercings and the way his back muscles flexed when walking up to the curse earlier.
“I’ll think about it.”
You still hated him for the way he treated you during your previous encounters, but there was nothing wrong with leaving the door open.
—
When you said you’d “think about it”, Sukuna already knew you weren’t going to be reaching out to him anytime soon.
Which is why he didn’t immediately return the bracelet that you dropped at the curse site. He saw it glimmering in the rubble and immediately knew that was going to be his golden ticket to your hearts.
And other parts of you.
He waited 3 days, for no reason other than to let the thought of him simmer in your mind, maybe hate him a little less. But he was leaving for another overseas mission in 3 days, he’ll be gone for two weeks– surely you’d want your bracelet back before then, right?
He pulls out his phone and dials the number he harassed Ijichi for, watching the bracelet dangle from his hold as he patiently waits for you to pick up. He also got a peak of your schedule this week (thanks Ijichi), you shouldn’t be busy at all right now.
After the third ring, you finally pick up. “Hello?”
“Yo, it’s Sukuna. You left your bracelet in my car,” he cuts to chase, slightly twisting the truth while he does so.
“Oh… thanks?” you say apprehensively, thanking him felt weird. “You can just drop it off at the school tomorrow.”
“No need, I'm outside your house,” he shamelessly reveals and your heart drops to your ass.
“Wh– how do you know where I live? How did you even get my number?”
He imagines you panicking over his surprise visit and it brings him a sick sense of satisfaction. Another unhinged sentence flows out of his mouth as if it were normal.
“You really think Ijichi would say no to me if I asked for your information?” he chuckles. You can hear him shut the car door through the phone. “Gonna let me in or what?”
“Fine,” you huff out before hanging up the phone.
There was no point in staying on the phone with him if you were going to see him in a second. You hop off the couch and take a deep breath.
It’s just Sukuna, no reason to be nervous, you hate him, remember? You wipe your hands against your shorts– no clue as to why they clammed up all the sudden– before turning the door knob.
You nearly startle out of your skin, he is standing way too close to the fucking door and he is so much taller than you remember. Even as he slouches against the doorframe, he is still towering over you, you can also smell the Dior Sauvage radiating off his skin. Even when he does nothing, he's still entirely too much for you.
“Fuckin’ finally–” he groans, letting himself into your home. “It’s hot as fuck out there,” he states the obvious, you’ve had the AC blasting all day. You watch him in disbelief as he makes himself comfortable in your home, going straight to your fridge to see if there is anything for him to drink.
He’s worse than Gojo. You guess that’s just a quirk that comes with being a Special Grade Sorcerer– they demand space rather than worry about taking up too much of it.
He pulls out a beer, “can I have this?”
“Surprised you’re asking when you didn’t even ask if you can look in the fridge.”
“Good point,” he says before effortlessly popping the cap off the bottle using his teeth, you continue to stare at him in disbelief. “You’re glaring at me again,” he points out and takes a sip of his (your) beer.
“Sorry, I don’t know how to exactly act when a coworker, who’s barely a coworker, barges into my home and raids my fridge,” you nearly pout as you cross your arms.
He smiles and takes one more sip before setting it down. “So sensitive.”
You roll your eyes at his lack of care. “Can I have my bracelet back now?”
“Oh– yeah.” He acts as if he almost forgot, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out the dainty gold chain that has a pink butterfly on it. “The clasp was broken, so I fixed it.”
“Really?” You take it from him and inspect it. Looks like he actually did, the clasp was slightly darker than the rest of the chain, no one would notice though. “Wow, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He looks way too proud of himself. “Consider it my apology for that one time.”
“It wasn’t just one time,” you kindly remind him.
“No need to bring up all the other times,” he uses the same fake-pleasant tone as you. He takes the bracelet from you and clasps it around your wrist.
“Such a gentleman, Sukuna.”
“I’m a feminist too,” he adds, flashing that million dollar smile of his.
“Okay, cut the shit,” you stop him from saying anything else. “What do you want?”
—
“Taking me so fucking good baby– y’know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this?”
You’re not exactly sure what it was that he said that got you in this position, or if it was even words themselves that led to this.
Maybe it was the way he looked at you.
Or the way he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you in, slipping his tongue in your mouth the moment his lips touched yours.
All you know is he promised you’d enjoy yourself somewhere along the way and now he has you in the world's meanest arch— ass hiked up nice and high, pulling you back to meet each and every one of his powerful thrusts. He digs his nails into your hips while you grip the sheets, holding on for dear life as he delivers the backshots he promised.
You thought he’d be one of those guys that would try to stay quiet in bed, he’s not. He lets out the most deep and sinful moans each time you tighten around his unbelievably thick cock, he tells you how much of a good girl you are, he chants your name like it’s a fucking prayer.
“Kuna– w-wait,” you whine out.
“What’s wrong?” he asks mockingly. He grabs you by your hair and pulls you up, not letting up on his harsh thrusts. “Want me to stop?”
“N-no, I–” you falter, not knowing exactly what it is that you actually want. He wraps his free hand around your neck and pounds into you even harder.
“That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” he mutters in you ear, you can feel him smirking against you. “Just be a good girl and let go for me, yeah?”
You pathetically nod because anything else would’ve come out as a strangled moan– all that can be heard right now is harsh slaps and wet squelches while he continues to drive his cock into you. You’re pretty sure you came for the 4th time just a couple seconds ago and he thinks so too, drawing a chuckle out of him.
He knew you’d like his dick.
“Gonna let me cum in you? Fuuuck—want me to fill you up?” he groans, thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you shamelessly beg in between moans. “Fuck yes– give it to me, fill me up Kuna.”
“Fuck– alright,” he sputters out with a smile, shaking his head– not expecting you to start begging like that, at all.
He lets go of your hair and wraps both arms around your waist, doubling over while keeping up the sloppy pace. His breath tickles against your ear as his groans become needier, whinier. He tries his best not to bite down when he buries his face into the crook of your neck– not quite sure if you’re into that kinda shit.
Maybe next time.
“Fuck!” He slams a hand down onto the bed, holding you both up while he starts pumping you full of his cum.
It so much, it’s begins to seep out of you before he’s even done cumming and he keeps fucking you well after the fact– making your toes curl, crying out his name as he overstimulates you both.
He doesn’t come to a full stop and takes his time to come down from his high, slowly rocking back and forth inside you.
“You good?” he softly murmurs in your ear, slowly pulling out of you– keeping in mind that you might be a little sensitive right now.
“Yeah,” you sigh, trying to catch your breath, collapsing face down on the bed.
He chuckles, “don’t tap out just yet– m' not done with ya.”
“What do you mea–” your questions cut off from a familiar thrumming noise, making your words get caught in your throat.
You reluctantly turn around to find him in his… other form, with a smug grin on his face. You swear you feel a part of your soul leave your body when the mouth appears on his stomach.
“Don’t look so scared, sweetheart,” he chuckles at the visible shock on your face. “Lookin’ at me like I’m some kinda monster.”
He makes you wrap your hands around his neck while one pair of his arms holds on to your waist. The other pair grab the backs of your knees and push them up to your chest. You didn’t think he could reach inside of you any deeper, but he does as he continues to fuck you without a care in the world.
You feel everything, every inch, every vein.
The grip he has your waist and legs is strong while he uses you like his own personal fuck toy, continuously slamming you down on all 10 inches of him. While you’re a crying mess, he’s in absolute heaven– moaning your name, not shutting up over how good you feel wrapped around him.
The whole thing’s just insane, he drops your body down on to his length when he fucks up into you, the tongue on his stomach laps at your clit. You were a fool to think he was nasty before—having him use your body like this, giving you inescapable pleasure, just feels downright sinful.
It almost feels wrong, but the thought slowly gets swept away each time his fat tip slides against your sweet spot, each time that hot, wet tongue swipes against your clit.
He loves the way you clench around him when his extra tongue flicks harshly against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the way you stare at it in disbelief– nothing but concern on your face, yet your moans say otherwise.
“Feelin’ good baby?” he asks.
“Mhm,” you frantically nod, you couldn’t even hide it if you tried. “Is this even l-legal?”
“I have no idea,” he laughs through the loud slaps and wet squelches that filled the room.
With how strict the higher ups were, he doubts it.
He fucks you for hours, in multiple positions.
Positions you didn’t even know were possible, but he made happen with the extra limbs he had.
Sukuna’s just as ruthless in bed as he is in a battle, he was ripping you apart like he did with that curse, just in a different way.
You don’t even remember passing out, let alone what time you fell asleep. The last thing you remember was him praising you for squirting on him for the nth time– he wore you the fuck out, broke you in like a brand new pair of shoes.
Your usual alarm goes off at 6:00 am, like it does on every work day. You let out a sigh and shove your face in the pillow, trying to drown out the noise of the repetitive beeping. It’s become easy to ignore after all these years.
What’s hard to ignore is the foreign grumbling you hear right next to you, making your head pop up and eyes shoot open.
You’re immediately met with a messy head of pink hair, sprawled over your bed– taking up more than half of it, as if it were his. The blankets are just barely covering him, you can see his ass crack peeking through the sheets.
“Turn that shit off,” he boyishly complains with a frown on his face.
You immediately get up, reach over his body, and slam the alarm clock off.
“Get up,” you snap at him.
He opens one eye, trying to gauge how annoyed you are at him for spending the night. You can’t possibly be mad at him for this, he was tired too!
“That’s no way to treat a guest,” he says in return, pulling you in to lay on top of him and closing his eyes again.
“It is when the said guest overstays their welcome,” you hiss back, trying to get up but the hold he has on you is just too strong.
“So mean,” he complains. “Thought I fucked the attitude outta’ ya last night.”
You groan at his laxness, saying something along the lines of how fucking irritating he was. He doesn’t seem to care and even goes as far as to almost falling asleep again, but you keep him from doing so by slapping his chest.
“Let go, I have work in two hours!” you began to whine at the big brute of a man.
“I doubt you can even walk right now.”
“Yes I can.”
“Alright,” he lets go of you, “let’s see it then.”
You already struggle to push yourself off of him and he catches you by your arm when you almost fall off the bed.
“Told you so.”
“Last night was such a fucking mistake,” you say, more so to yourself— it comes out as a whimper and Sukuna snickers to himself.
“Fuckin’ drama queen,” he continues to laugh, sounding more amused than anything. “How about this– I’ll heal you and help you out with your missions today.”
“You know how to use RCT?” you ask, interest now piqued.
“Of course I do,” he scoffs. “Fuck I look like to you?”
You hold back on saying something mean, because you’d really like to get healed right now without having to tell Shoko how you ended up like this.
“Alright, fine. But just a heads up, Inumaki’s going to be with me for the day.”
He groans into the pillow, obviously not happy with that piece of information. “Do you have an iPad?”
“...No. Why?”
“I don’t understand anything that kid fuckin’ says,” he complains.
“You’ll be fine,” you pat his shoulder, “now get up and heal me already. We have a long day ahead of us.”
two hours later:
inumaki: tuna, tuna
sukuna: *turns to reader* I don't know what in the actual fuck he's saying.
inumaki: salmon?
sukuna: STOP
notes: fun fact! i was listening to the kyoto x im god mashup while writing this. i had so much fun making this version of him. i feel like if he had been born in the same era as the rest and was (somewhat) nurtured as a child, he’d have so much fun with his life LOL. just completely unserious, making fun of people all the time, and just overall living his best, slutty life.
anyways, i may or may not turn this into a series 🫣 idk, we’ll see. i’d have to drop one of my current ones though.
SYPNOSIS. you share your life with three magnetic men. what started as a convenient roommate setup spirals into a night of unbridled passion after a wild club outing, where boundaries dissolve and desires take over in a whirlwind of shared ecstasy.
PAIRING. ryomen sukuna x reader. gojo satoru x reader. toji fushiguro x reader.
WC. 4.1k
CONTENT. MDNI. foursome. rough and intense penetration. multiple partners. oral sex (giving and receiving). face-fucking and throat penetration. massive creampies and way too much cum everywhere. like seriously excessive amounts of cum. squirting. overstimulation. degradation mixed with heavy praise kink. spit play. cum play and cum-swapping. spanking. hair-pulling. light choking. clit slapping UGH. bruising and visible marking. PURE SEX MAN. aftercare and soft tender moments afterward. fully consensual in the story but extremely raw, boundary-pushing, and humanly overwhelming in how desperate and needy it gets.
A/N. flow state dude. toji and sukuna art by actually_valerie_art and gojo art by thatsallitchief on ig!
in the glittering chaos of tokyo's nightlife, your penthouse stood as a sanctuary for you and the three men who had woven themselves into your daily existence. you can't even recall how you got tangled with them.
gojo satoru, the white-haired tech genius. toji fushiguro, the scarred ex-mercenary turned personal bodyguard. and ryomen sukuna, the inked-up king of the underground scene.
it began innocently enough—shared spaces, late-night conversations over drinks but the undercurrent of attraction had been building for months. tonight, after hours at sukuna's exclusive club, it finally erupted. back home, the air hummed with electric tension, thick with the promise of everything breaking open in the best way.
you didn't even close the door fully before toji had you backed against it, his large frame caging you in, breath ragged from watching you dance with the others all night.
"you've been drivin' me crazy," he muttered. his calloused hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him so you could feel how hard he was, pressing insistently against your thigh.
gojo lounged on the nearby couch, shedding his jacket with a lazy grin, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "don't be greedy, toji. we all saw her grinding on sukuna earlier."
sukuna stripped off his shirt, revealing the black tattoos swirling over his toned body, and chuckled darkly. "jealous? good. makes it more fun."
toji didn't wait for permission. he crashed his lips onto yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, devouring you like a man starved. his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the angle, while his other hand slid under your dress, hiking it up to expose the lace of your panties. you gasped into his mouth, clutching his broad shoulders, nails digging in as heat pooled low in your belly.
"fuck, toji," you breathed when he pulled back slightly, only to trail biting kisses down your neck.
sukuna stepped up behind you, his hands joining toji's on your body. one slipped between your thighs. "already soaked? we've barely started, princess." his voice was a sinful purr as his fingers pressed against your clit in slow, teasing circles, making your hips buck involuntarily.
gojo rose then, sauntering over with that signature swagger. he unzipped your dress deftly, letting it pool at your feet in a silken puddle. "let's get you comfortable," he whispered, lips brushing your ear as he unclasped your bra. your breasts spilled free into the cool air; his hands covered them immediately, thumbs rolling over your hardened nipples, pinching just hard enough to pull a whimper from you.
the three of them surrounded you now—a living cage of heat, muscle, and barely restrained hunger.
toji’s mouth stayed latched to the side of your throat, sucking hard enough to bloom a fresh bruise. sukuna’s fingers never stopped their cruel torment between your legs. gojo pressed his chest to your back, letting you feel his hard length grinding lazily against the cleft of your ass while he toyed with your breasts like they were his personal playthings.
“look at these,” gojo murmured against the shell of your ear, voice dripping with awe and mockery. he rolled both nipples between his fingers, tugging them outward until the sting made you arch and whine. “so pretty when they’re all hard and begging. bet they’d look even better with my teeth on them.”
before you could answer, sukuna hooked two fingers into the crotch of your panties and yanked them aside, exposing you completely. cool air hit your dripping core and you shivered—only for toji to drop to one knee in front of you. his big hands spread your thighs wider, holding you open. he buried his face between your legs and devoured.
“haaahh… w–wait a min–”
his tongue dragged flat and broad up your entire slit in one long, filthy stroke, collecting every drop. then he focused—sucking your clit between his lips with bruising suction, the tip of his tongue flicking side to side in rapid, merciless lashes. you cried out, hips jerking forward, only for sukuna to clamp an arm around your waist and pin you in place.
“stay still,” sukuna ordered. “let him eat. you don’t get to run from it.”
gojo laughed softly against your neck. “she’s shaking already. poor thing’s gonna come on his tongue in under a minute if we keep this up.”
he wasn’t wrong.
toji growled against your pussy when your walls fluttered, the vibration ripping another broken moan from your throat. gojo’s fingers never left your nipples, twisting and pulling in time with every hard suck until the dual sensation short-circuited your brain.
your first orgasm hit like a freight train. legs buckling, you would have collapsed if not for sukuna’s iron grip and toji’s bruising hold on your thighs. the climax tore through you in violent, shuddering waves—your whole body locking up as you came against toji’s unrelenting mouth. he drank every pulse, tongue flattening to lap up the flood like he refused to waste a drop, growling low the entire time.
only then did toji pull back. dark eyes locked on yours as he rose slowly. he wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm.
“fuckin’ delicious,” he rasped. “could eat you all night.”
“fushiguro, don’t be greedy,” sukuna growled. he spun you roughly, slamming your front against the wall so hard the framed art rattled. his cock was already out, thick and veined. he lined up and rammed in without warning, bottoming out in one brutal stroke that knocked the air from your lungs.
“kuna! w–warning please!”
the stretch burned. your walls clamped down hard around the sudden invasion. he didn’t let you adjust—pulled back almost to the tip and slammed home again, hips snapping with enough force your tits bounced against the cold wall. every thrust punched deep, the fat head bullying that spot inside until your knees shook and your nails scraped uselessly at the paint.
“what for?” he growled against your ear, one hand fisting your hair to yank your head back. “don’t need it when yer cunt is this ready.”
wet slaps filled your entryway. his balls smacking your clit with every punishing drive, your own juices dripping down your thighs in messy strings. he fucked you like he hated you and needed you at the same time, ruthless, giving you no second to breathe.
toji stepped up on your left, thick fingers forcing your jaw open. “look at me while he ruins you,” he rasped. he spat straight into your open mouth, watching it land on your tongue before shoving two fingers in deep, making you gag around them while sukuna kept pounding.
gojo was already on your right, pants shoved down, long cock in hand. he stroked himself slowly while he watched. sukuna’s rhythm turned erratic—short, mean thrusts that ground his pelvis against your ass until you were whimpering around toji’s fingers. sukuna’s hand left your hip to slap your clit once, sharp and stinging—then again, and again—until the pain twisted into heat and you came hard, came so hard that sukuna cursed and buried himself even deeper, flooding you with hot, thick spurts that leaked out the second he started pulling back.
before you could whimper at the emptiness, gojo was there, spinning you around and shoving you to your knees so fast your palms slapped the floor.
“open that mouth,” gojo said, voice tight with need. he fisted your hair, yanked your head back, and fed his cock past your lips in one smooth glide. he hit the back of your throat immediately, making your eyes water. he didn’t stop—rocked his hips forward until your nose pressed against his pelvis, his pubes tickling your face.
toji dropped to one knee behind you, spreading your ass cheeks wide. he spat on your already dripping hole, watching it mix with sukuna’s cum before shoving three thick fingers inside without warning.
your pussy was still fluttering from the last orgasm, now getting finger-fucked roughly while gojo used your throat like a toy.
“look at this sloppy cunt,” toji muttered, curling his fingers hard against your g-spot until you choked out a muffled scream around gojo’s dick. “still leakin’ sukuna’s load and beggin’ for more.”
gojo groaned, hips snapping faster. “f-fuck… gonna paint her face. hold her steady.”
toji’s free hand wrapped around your throat from behind, squeezing just enough to feel gojo’s cock bulging it every time he bottomed out. tears streamed down your cheeks, drool poured from the corners of your mouth.
sukuna stepped closer again, cock already hardening despite just coming. he fisted your hair next to gojo’s hand, forcing your head back further. “swallow around him,” he ordered. “milk him dry.”
you did. your throat working convulsively enough to make gojo break quickly. he yanked out at the last second, hand flying over his shaft as he came in thick, messy ropes across your face.
first stripe on your cheek and lips, second on your closed eyelids, third dripping hot down your chin to splatter on your tits. he kept stroking, milking out every last drop until your face was a wrecked, glistening mess.
sukuna hauled you up by the hair before you could collapse, dragging you toward the couch. he threw you face-down over the armrest, ass up, legs kicked wide. toji was already behind you, thick cock in hand, rubbing the head through the mess of cum and slick before slamming in with one vicious thrust.
“wha…already?”
“yes my angel, need my turn,” he snarled, setting a pace that made the couch creak. he fucked you like he was trying to break you—balls slapping wetly against your clit.
you couldn't complain. not when you're body craves for this attention.
gojo knelt in front of your face, smearing the last of his cum across your swollen lips. “sweetie, before you forget to clean me up,” he muttered, pushing back into your mouth while toji railed you from behind.
you tried to focus, tried to swirl your tongue around gojo’s softening length the way he liked, but toji’s brutal rhythm made it impossible to do anything but drool and moan around him. every punishing thrust shoved you forward, forcing more of gojo’s cock deeper until your lips were stretched wide and your throat kept fluttering uselessly.
toji’s big hands gripped your hips so hard you knew you’d have perfect finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. he wasn’t just fucking you—he was claiming you, marking every inch inside with the thick drag of his cock. the scarred mercenary didn’t talk much during sex, but the sounds he made were filthy enough.
“fuckin’ hell,” he grunted, one hand sliding up your spine to press between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest down harder against the armrest. the new angle let him hit even deeper, the fat head bullying that spot until your vision whited out. “this greedy little pussy doesn’t know when to quit, does it? still flutterin’ after two loads.”
gojo pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, strings of spit and cum connecting your swollen lips to his tip. he crouched down so his face was level with yours, gripping your jaw to make you look at him.
“you’re so pretty when you’re getting ruined,” he murmured, thumb swiping through the drying mess on your cheek before pushing it between your lips. “you’re the perfect girl.”
you obeyed automatically, tongue curling around his thumb while toji kept pounding into you from behind.
sukuna watched from the side, lazily stroking his cock back to full hardness, the dark ink on his chest and arms shifting with every slow pump. he was sure enjoying the show—better than any porn he’d ever jerked off to.
“gonna fill this cunt up,” toji rasped against your ear, voice wrecked. “gonna pump you so full you’ll be leakin’ me for days. you want that?”
you could only whimper, nodding frantically around gojo’s thumb.
“say it,” toji growled, slowing just enough to make you feel every thick inch sliding in and out. “tell me you want my cum.”
“please—” your voice cracked, hoarse “—please, toji, f-fill me—toru, i want him to fill me—”
that was all he needed.
his hips stuttered, rhythm turning sloppy and desperate. one last brutal thrust buried him to the hilt, and then he was coming—so much it immediately started leaking out around his shaft despite how tightly your walls gripped him. he kept grinding through it, forcing every drop as deep as possible while you shook and sobbed beneath him.
when he finally pulled out, a stream of cum followed, dripping obscenely down your thighs to join sukuna’s and your own slick on the floor. you felt hollowed out, aching, and still somehow desperate for more.
toji stepped back, breathing hard, cock still glistening and heavy between his legs. he gave your ass a possessive smack that made you yelp.
gojo was already moving.
he hauled you up off the armrest like you weighed nothing, spinning you until your back hit the couch cushions. he climbed over you immediately, knees bracketing your hips, that long cock slapping wetly against your swollen folds.
“been waiting,” he said, voice deceptively light even as his eyes burned. he hooked your legs over his elbows, folding you in half until your knees nearly touched your shoulders. the position left you completely exposed, every messy inch of your used cunt on display.
he didn’t push in right away—unlike the other two.
instead he dragged the head of his cock through the creamy mess toji and sukuna had left behind, coating himself, smearing it over your clit until you were twitching and whining.
“look at this,” he murmured, almost to himself. “three loads in you already and you’re still dripping for more. greedy fucking slut.”
then he sank in—slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you open again on top of everything else.
you keened at the pressure, walls fluttering around gojo’s length like they were trying to pull him even deeper. he stayed still for a long second, letting you feel the full, throbbing heat of him, the way your overworked pussy gripped him like it never wanted to let go.
after a minute he started moving. slow rolls at first, deep grinds that stirred everything inside you, dragging his cock against every sensitive ridge until your toes curled. his hands pinned your thighs wide, keeping you folded and helpless beneath him while he watched your face with that maddening half-smile.
“feel that?” he whispered. “feel how full you are? sukuna’s load, toji’s load, and now me stretching you open again. you’re just a little cum-dump tonight, aren’t you?”
you couldn’t answer—could only whimper and nod, nails digging into his forearms as he picked up speed.
"y-yes… want it all—"
"hey." sukuna cuts you off as he climbed onto the couch beside you. he fisted his thick cock again, then slapped it heavily against your cheek, leaving a sticky smear.
“open,” he ordered, voice low and dangerous. “don’t make me wait. you haven’t paid attention to me.”
"oh." your lips parted on instinct. “’m sorry, ryo.”
he didn’t wait—pushed the fat head past them, resting on your tongue while gojo kept fucking you.
"show me yer sorry then." sukuna’s taste smeared across your tastebuds, salty and bitter, mixing with the remnants of gojo’s earlier release still drying on your skin.
toji knelt at the side of the couch, one big hand wrapping around your throat while the other slid down to where gojo was splitting you open. his rough fingers found your clit and started rubbing tight, mean circles that made your whole body jerk.
“gonna make her squirt this time,” toji rasped, eyes locked on where gojo’s cock disappeared inside you over and over. “wanna see this sloppy hole burst all over him. that'll be a sight man."
gojo laughed breathlessly, hips snapping harder. “do it. ruin the couch. ruin her.”
the combined assault was too much—gojo’s cock hammering that spot relentlessly, toji’s fingers grinding your clit without mercy, sukuna lazily fucking shallow thrusts into your mouth while his free hand twisted one of your nipples hard enough to sting.
your body locked up.
too many mouths, too many hands, too much cock.
it built fast and brutal, a pressure so intense it almost hurt. you tried to warn them, tried to beg around sukuna’s cock, but all that came out was a garbled, desperate whine.
then it broke.
you came so hard your vision blacked out for a second. your walls clamped down on gojo like a fist, and then you were spilling—hot, clear fluid squirting out around his cock with every thrust, soaking his abs, his thighs, the cushions beneath you. the wet rush was loud, filthy, unstoppable. your whole body convulsed, thighs shaking violently in gojo’s grip as you sobbed around sukuna’s length.
“fuck—there it is,” gojo groaned, pace turning erratic. “fuckin’ soak me.”
he didn’t last long after that. a few more brutal snaps and he buried himself deep, cock pulsing as he added another thick load to the mess inside you.
sukuna pulled out of your mouth right as gojo started to come down, stroking himself fast over your face. he came with a low curse, painting fresh stripes across your tongue and lips, some dripping down to join the drying mess already there.
when gojo finally eased out, thick, creamy rivulets of all of them leaked from your abused hole. you lay there panting, legs still trembling, body slick and marked everywhere.
toji leaned down, dragging two fingers through the mess between your thighs before bringing them to your lips.
“clean up,” he murmured, voice rough with satisfaction. “taste what we did to you.”
you sucked weakly, tongue curling around his fingers as the taste of everything filled your mouth.
you finally calmed down, assuming it was over.
then sukuna shifted, sliding off the couch only to pull you down with him onto the thick rug in front of it. he sat with his back against the base of the couch and hauled you into his lap, facing away so your back pressed to his chest. his still-hard cock nudged at your entrance again, slick and insistent.
before you could catch your breath he sank in…slow this time, inch by thick inch—until he was seated fully inside you once more.
your next orgasm didn’t build. it detonated.
you screamed loud. body convulsing so hard sukuna had to tighten his hold to keep you from bucking off him. he fucked you through it without mercy, chasing his own release until he buried himself deep and came with a low, animal snarl, adding another hot flood to the mess inside you.
when it was over you were limp, trembling, covered in sweat and cum and bruises that would bloom dark and beautiful by morning.
sukuna stayed seated inside you for long moments, arms locked around your waist, lips brushing your temple in something almost tender.
“breathe,” he murmured.
gojo pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your tear-streaked cheek.
toji simply draped one massive hand over your thigh, thumb stroking idle circles against the sensitive skin.
“you did so fucking good,” gojo whispered, voice wrecked with awe.
sukuna finally eased out of you with a slow, you whimper at the sudden emptiness. he shifted you gently…surprisingly gentle for him. now you were cradled sideways in his lap on the rug, head tucked under his chin, one tattooed arm banded securely around your ribs like he still wasn’t ready to let go completely.
for a few long minutes no one spoke.
just the sound of four sets of lungs catching up, the faint city drone filtering through the glass, your own heartbeat thundering in your ears. your body felt liquid, heavy, deliciously used. every muscle ached in the best way.
your skin was painted with fingerprints, bite marks, streaks of drying cum. the slow drip between your legs only made you feel more claimed, more theirs.
gojo was the first to move.
he stretched languidly beside you, then leaned over to brush sweat-damp strands of hair from your face. his touch was feather-light now, reverent.
“hey,” he murmured, voice soft, “still with us, baby?”
you managed a tiny nod, lashes fluttering. words felt too far away.
toji grunted, pushing to his feet with a wince. he looked down at the three of you.
sukuna still holding you, gojo stroking your cheek.
“gonna go shower,” he rasped. “you’re a fuckin’ mess, doll. i’ll bring a towel.”
he padded barefoot toward the master bathroom. the sound of the shower kicking on a minute later was distant white noise, steady and soothing.
sukuna’s chest rumbled against your back as he let out a low sigh. his fingers traced idle patterns along your hip.
“got a fight in a couple hours,” he said quietly, almost reluctant. “big match. can’t miss it.”
you felt a small pang. irrational after everything—but the thought of him leaving even for a few hours made your chest tighten. he must have felt the shift because he pressed his lips to your temple again.
“i’ll be back before dawn,” he promised. “gonna win quick. then i’m coming straight here to collect my prize.”
he kissed the shell of your ear, then carefully transferred you into gojo’s waiting arms. sukuna stood, stretching so every inked muscle flexed under the low lights. he looked like sin personified.
“don’t let satoru talk you into round four before i get back.”
"fuck you." gojo says flipping him off only for the older guy to laugh at him.
then he was gone—grabbing his discarded shirt, tugging it on as he headed for the door. the soft click behind him felt strangely final, but you were too tired to worry.
gojo gathered you fully against his chest and stood with surprising ease, carrying you toward the bedroom like you were made of glass.
“c’mon, princess,” he murmured into your hair. “let’s get you cleaned up a little. you’ve earned the soft treatment now.”
the bedroom was dim, lit only by city glow through half-closed blinds. gojo laid you in the center of the enormous bed and disappeared for a moment, returning with a warm, damp cloth and soothing lotion.
he knelt beside you. the cloth was heaven against your overheated skin. he wiped your face first—chin, lips, cheeks—then down your throat, between your breasts, careful around every bruise and bite mark. when he reached between your thighs he paused, eyes flicking to yours.
“too much?” he asked softly.
you shook your head, even though you were so sensitive it almost hurt.
he cleaned you with infinite patience, murmuring little praises—“so pretty even like this,” “took us so well,” “my brave girl”—until you were mostly free of the sticky evidence. then he warmed the lotion between his palms and smoothed it over the worst of the marks.
his touch felt like he was worshipping you. well it's no surprise because satoru has always been the sweetest out of the three.
when he was done he crawled onto the bed, pulling the comforter over both of you and tugging you into the cradle of his body,
your back to his chest, his arm draped possessively over your waist, chin tucked over your shoulder. he was still half-dressed. his pants unbuttoned, shirt hanging open but the warmth of him was perfect.
“you okay?” he asked for what felt like the sixth time tonight.
you nodded, reaching back to thread your fingers through his white hair.
“more than okay, thank you toru.”
he smiled against your skin that you could feel the curve of it.
“good. because i’m not letting you out of this bed until you’ve slept at least eight hours. doctor’s orders.”
you huffed a tiny laugh, already feeling exhaustion drag at your limbs.
“you’re not a doctor.”
“i’m your doctor tonight,” he countered, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. “and my prescription is cuddles, water, maybe some painkillers in the morning, and absolutely no more cock until you can walk without wobbling.”
another soft laugh bubbled out of you, sleepy and content.
the shower shut off down the hall. a minute later toji appeared in the doorway—towel slung low around his hips, hair dripping, looking unfairly good even bone-tired. he took one look at you curled in gojo’s arms and something soft flickered across his face.
“she good?” he asked quietly.
gojo nodded. “floating. probably gonna pass out in the next thirty seconds.”
toji grunted in approval, then crossed to the bed and dropped down on your other side, stretching out so you were sandwiched between them. his hand found yours under the covers, rough fingers lacing with yours in a grip that felt like an anchor.
“sleep, doll,” he muttered.
you did.
the last thing you registered before darkness claimed you was gojo’s lips brushing your shoulder in a feather-light kiss, toji’s steady heartbeat against your palm, and the distant promise of sukuna coming home soon.
SYPNOSIS. you share your life with three magnetic men. what started as a convenient roommate setup spirals into a night of unbridled passion after a wild club outing, where boundaries dissolve and desires take over in a whirlwind of shared ecstasy.
PAIRING. ryomen sukuna x reader. gojo satoru x reader. toji fushiguro x reader.
WC. 4.1k
CONTENT. MDNI. foursome. rough and intense penetration. multiple partners. oral sex (giving and receiving). face-fucking and throat penetration. massive creampies and way too much cum everywhere. like seriously excessive amounts of cum. squirting. overstimulation. degradation mixed with heavy praise kink. spit play. cum play and cum-swapping. spanking. hair-pulling. light choking. clit slapping UGH. bruising and visible marking. PURE SEX MAN. aftercare and soft tender moments afterward. fully consensual in the story but extremely raw, boundary-pushing, and humanly overwhelming in how desperate and needy it gets.
A/N. flow state dude. toji and sukuna art by actually_valerie_art and gojo art by thatsallitchief on ig!
in the glittering chaos of tokyo's nightlife, your penthouse stood as a sanctuary for you and the three men who had woven themselves into your daily existence. you can't even recall how you got tangled with them.
gojo satoru, the white-haired tech genius. toji fushiguro, the scarred ex-mercenary turned personal bodyguard. and ryomen sukuna, the inked-up king of the underground scene.
it began innocently enough—shared spaces, late-night conversations over drinks but the undercurrent of attraction had been building for months. tonight, after hours at sukuna's exclusive club, it finally erupted. back home, the air hummed with electric tension, thick with the promise of everything breaking open in the best way.
you didn't even close the door fully before toji had you backed against it, his large frame caging you in, breath ragged from watching you dance with the others all night.
"you've been drivin' me crazy," he muttered. his calloused hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him so you could feel how hard he was, pressing insistently against your thigh.
gojo lounged on the nearby couch, shedding his jacket with a lazy grin, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "don't be greedy, toji. we all saw her grinding on sukuna earlier."
sukuna stripped off his shirt, revealing the black tattoos swirling over his toned body, and chuckled darkly. "jealous? good. makes it more fun."
toji didn't wait for permission. he crashed his lips onto yours in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, devouring you like a man starved. his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the angle, while his other hand slid under your dress, hiking it up to expose the lace of your panties. you gasped into his mouth, clutching his broad shoulders, nails digging in as heat pooled low in your belly.
"fuck, toji," you breathed when he pulled back slightly, only to trail biting kisses down your neck.
sukuna stepped up behind you, his hands joining toji's on your body. one slipped between your thighs. "already soaked? we've barely started, princess." his voice was a sinful purr as his fingers pressed against your clit in slow, teasing circles, making your hips buck involuntarily.
gojo rose then, sauntering over with that signature swagger. he unzipped your dress deftly, letting it pool at your feet in a silken puddle. "let's get you comfortable," he whispered, lips brushing your ear as he unclasped your bra. your breasts spilled free into the cool air; his hands covered them immediately, thumbs rolling over your hardened nipples, pinching just hard enough to pull a whimper from you.
the three of them surrounded you now—a living cage of heat, muscle, and barely restrained hunger.
toji’s mouth stayed latched to the side of your throat, sucking hard enough to bloom a fresh bruise. sukuna’s fingers never stopped their cruel torment between your legs. gojo pressed his chest to your back, letting you feel his hard length grinding lazily against the cleft of your ass while he toyed with your breasts like they were his personal playthings.
“look at these,” gojo murmured against the shell of your ear, voice dripping with awe and mockery. he rolled both nipples between his fingers, tugging them outward until the sting made you arch and whine. “so pretty when they’re all hard and begging. bet they’d look even better with my teeth on them.”
before you could answer, sukuna hooked two fingers into the crotch of your panties and yanked them aside, exposing you completely. cool air hit your dripping core and you shivered—only for toji to drop to one knee in front of you. his big hands spread your thighs wider, holding you open. he buried his face between your legs and devoured.
“haaahh… w–wait a min–”
his tongue dragged flat and broad up your entire slit in one long, filthy stroke, collecting every drop. then he focused—sucking your clit between his lips with bruising suction, the tip of his tongue flicking side to side in rapid, merciless lashes. you cried out, hips jerking forward, only for sukuna to clamp an arm around your waist and pin you in place.
“stay still,” sukuna ordered. “let him eat. you don’t get to run from it.”
gojo laughed softly against your neck. “she’s shaking already. poor thing’s gonna come on his tongue in under a minute if we keep this up.”
he wasn’t wrong.
toji growled against your pussy when your walls fluttered, the vibration ripping another broken moan from your throat. gojo’s fingers never left your nipples, twisting and pulling in time with every hard suck until the dual sensation short-circuited your brain.
your first orgasm hit like a freight train. legs buckling, you would have collapsed if not for sukuna’s iron grip and toji’s bruising hold on your thighs. the climax tore through you in violent, shuddering waves—your whole body locking up as you came against toji’s unrelenting mouth. he drank every pulse, tongue flattening to lap up the flood like he refused to waste a drop, growling low the entire time.
only then did toji pull back. dark eyes locked on yours as he rose slowly. he wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm.
“fuckin’ delicious,” he rasped. “could eat you all night.”
“fushiguro, don’t be greedy,” sukuna growled. he spun you roughly, slamming your front against the wall so hard the framed art rattled. his cock was already out, thick and veined. he lined up and rammed in without warning, bottoming out in one brutal stroke that knocked the air from your lungs.
“kuna! w–warning please!”
the stretch burned. your walls clamped down hard around the sudden invasion. he didn’t let you adjust—pulled back almost to the tip and slammed home again, hips snapping with enough force your tits bounced against the cold wall. every thrust punched deep, the fat head bullying that spot inside until your knees shook and your nails scraped uselessly at the paint.
“what for?” he growled against your ear, one hand fisting your hair to yank your head back. “don’t need it when yer cunt is this ready.”
wet slaps filled your entryway. his balls smacking your clit with every punishing drive, your own juices dripping down your thighs in messy strings. he fucked you like he hated you and needed you at the same time, ruthless, giving you no second to breathe.
toji stepped up on your left, thick fingers forcing your jaw open. “look at me while he ruins you,” he rasped. he spat straight into your open mouth, watching it land on your tongue before shoving two fingers in deep, making you gag around them while sukuna kept pounding.
gojo was already on your right, pants shoved down, long cock in hand. he stroked himself slowly while he watched. sukuna’s rhythm turned erratic—short, mean thrusts that ground his pelvis against your ass until you were whimpering around toji’s fingers. sukuna’s hand left your hip to slap your clit once, sharp and stinging—then again, and again—until the pain twisted into heat and you came hard, came so hard that sukuna cursed and buried himself even deeper, flooding you with hot, thick spurts that leaked out the second he started pulling back.
before you could whimper at the emptiness, gojo was there, spinning you around and shoving you to your knees so fast your palms slapped the floor.
“open that mouth,” gojo said, voice tight with need. he fisted your hair, yanked your head back, and fed his cock past your lips in one smooth glide. he hit the back of your throat immediately, making your eyes water. he didn’t stop—rocked his hips forward until your nose pressed against his pelvis, his pubes tickling your face.
toji dropped to one knee behind you, spreading your ass cheeks wide. he spat on your already dripping hole, watching it mix with sukuna’s cum before shoving three thick fingers inside without warning.
your pussy was still fluttering from the last orgasm, now getting finger-fucked roughly while gojo used your throat like a toy.
“look at this sloppy cunt,” toji muttered, curling his fingers hard against your g-spot until you choked out a muffled scream around gojo’s dick. “still leakin’ sukuna’s load and beggin’ for more.”
gojo groaned, hips snapping faster. “f-fuck… gonna paint her face. hold her steady.”
toji’s free hand wrapped around your throat from behind, squeezing just enough to feel gojo’s cock bulging it every time he bottomed out. tears streamed down your cheeks, drool poured from the corners of your mouth.
sukuna stepped closer again, cock already hardening despite just coming. he fisted your hair next to gojo’s hand, forcing your head back further. “swallow around him,” he ordered. “milk him dry.”
you did. your throat working convulsively enough to make gojo break quickly. he yanked out at the last second, hand flying over his shaft as he came in thick, messy ropes across your face.
first stripe on your cheek and lips, second on your closed eyelids, third dripping hot down your chin to splatter on your tits. he kept stroking, milking out every last drop until your face was a wrecked, glistening mess.
sukuna hauled you up by the hair before you could collapse, dragging you toward the couch. he threw you face-down over the armrest, ass up, legs kicked wide. toji was already behind you, thick cock in hand, rubbing the head through the mess of cum and slick before slamming in with one vicious thrust.
“wha…already?”
“yes my angel, need my turn,” he snarled, setting a pace that made the couch creak. he fucked you like he was trying to break you—balls slapping wetly against your clit.
you couldn't complain. not when you're body craves for this attention.
gojo knelt in front of your face, smearing the last of his cum across your swollen lips. “sweetie, before you forget to clean me up,” he muttered, pushing back into your mouth while toji railed you from behind.
you tried to focus, tried to swirl your tongue around gojo’s softening length the way he liked, but toji’s brutal rhythm made it impossible to do anything but drool and moan around him. every punishing thrust shoved you forward, forcing more of gojo’s cock deeper until your lips were stretched wide and your throat kept fluttering uselessly.
toji’s big hands gripped your hips so hard you knew you’d have perfect finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. he wasn’t just fucking you—he was claiming you, marking every inch inside with the thick drag of his cock. the scarred mercenary didn’t talk much during sex, but the sounds he made were filthy enough.
“fuckin’ hell,” he grunted, one hand sliding up your spine to press between your shoulder blades, forcing your chest down harder against the armrest. the new angle let him hit even deeper, the fat head bullying that spot until your vision whited out. “this greedy little pussy doesn’t know when to quit, does it? still flutterin’ after two loads.”
gojo pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, strings of spit and cum connecting your swollen lips to his tip. he crouched down so his face was level with yours, gripping your jaw to make you look at him.
“you’re so pretty when you’re getting ruined,” he murmured, thumb swiping through the drying mess on your cheek before pushing it between your lips. “you’re the perfect girl.”
you obeyed automatically, tongue curling around his thumb while toji kept pounding into you from behind.
sukuna watched from the side, lazily stroking his cock back to full hardness, the dark ink on his chest and arms shifting with every slow pump. he was sure enjoying the show—better than any porn he’d ever jerked off to.
“gonna fill this cunt up,” toji rasped against your ear, voice wrecked. “gonna pump you so full you’ll be leakin’ me for days. you want that?”
you could only whimper, nodding frantically around gojo’s thumb.
“say it,” toji growled, slowing just enough to make you feel every thick inch sliding in and out. “tell me you want my cum.”
“please—” your voice cracked, hoarse “—please, toji, f-fill me—toru, i want him to fill me—”
that was all he needed.
his hips stuttered, rhythm turning sloppy and desperate. one last brutal thrust buried him to the hilt, and then he was coming—so much it immediately started leaking out around his shaft despite how tightly your walls gripped him. he kept grinding through it, forcing every drop as deep as possible while you shook and sobbed beneath him.
when he finally pulled out, a stream of cum followed, dripping obscenely down your thighs to join sukuna’s and your own slick on the floor. you felt hollowed out, aching, and still somehow desperate for more.
toji stepped back, breathing hard, cock still glistening and heavy between his legs. he gave your ass a possessive smack that made you yelp.
gojo was already moving.
he hauled you up off the armrest like you weighed nothing, spinning you until your back hit the couch cushions. he climbed over you immediately, knees bracketing your hips, that long cock slapping wetly against your swollen folds.
“been waiting,” he said, voice deceptively light even as his eyes burned. he hooked your legs over his elbows, folding you in half until your knees nearly touched your shoulders. the position left you completely exposed, every messy inch of your used cunt on display.
he didn’t push in right away—unlike the other two.
instead he dragged the head of his cock through the creamy mess toji and sukuna had left behind, coating himself, smearing it over your clit until you were twitching and whining.
“look at this,” he murmured, almost to himself. “three loads in you already and you’re still dripping for more. greedy fucking slut.”
then he sank in—slow at first, letting you feel every inch as he stretched you open again on top of everything else.
you keened at the pressure, walls fluttering around gojo’s length like they were trying to pull him even deeper. he stayed still for a long second, letting you feel the full, throbbing heat of him, the way your overworked pussy gripped him like it never wanted to let go.
after a minute he started moving. slow rolls at first, deep grinds that stirred everything inside you, dragging his cock against every sensitive ridge until your toes curled. his hands pinned your thighs wide, keeping you folded and helpless beneath him while he watched your face with that maddening half-smile.
“feel that?” he whispered. “feel how full you are? sukuna’s load, toji’s load, and now me stretching you open again. you’re just a little cum-dump tonight, aren’t you?”
you couldn’t answer—could only whimper and nod, nails digging into his forearms as he picked up speed.
"y-yes… want it all—"
"hey." sukuna cuts you off as he climbed onto the couch beside you. he fisted his thick cock again, then slapped it heavily against your cheek, leaving a sticky smear.
“open,” he ordered, voice low and dangerous. “don’t make me wait. you haven’t paid attention to me.”
"oh." your lips parted on instinct. “’m sorry, ryo.”
he didn’t wait—pushed the fat head past them, resting on your tongue while gojo kept fucking you.
"show me yer sorry then." sukuna’s taste smeared across your tastebuds, salty and bitter, mixing with the remnants of gojo’s earlier release still drying on your skin.
toji knelt at the side of the couch, one big hand wrapping around your throat while the other slid down to where gojo was splitting you open. his rough fingers found your clit and started rubbing tight, mean circles that made your whole body jerk.
“gonna make her squirt this time,” toji rasped, eyes locked on where gojo’s cock disappeared inside you over and over. “wanna see this sloppy hole burst all over him. that'll be a sight man."
gojo laughed breathlessly, hips snapping harder. “do it. ruin the couch. ruin her.”
the combined assault was too much—gojo’s cock hammering that spot relentlessly, toji’s fingers grinding your clit without mercy, sukuna lazily fucking shallow thrusts into your mouth while his free hand twisted one of your nipples hard enough to sting.
your body locked up.
too many mouths, too many hands, too much cock.
it built fast and brutal, a pressure so intense it almost hurt. you tried to warn them, tried to beg around sukuna’s cock, but all that came out was a garbled, desperate whine.
then it broke.
you came so hard your vision blacked out for a second. your walls clamped down on gojo like a fist, and then you were spilling—hot, clear fluid squirting out around his cock with every thrust, soaking his abs, his thighs, the cushions beneath you. the wet rush was loud, filthy, unstoppable. your whole body convulsed, thighs shaking violently in gojo’s grip as you sobbed around sukuna’s length.
“fuck—there it is,” gojo groaned, pace turning erratic. “fuckin’ soak me.”
he didn’t last long after that. a few more brutal snaps and he buried himself deep, cock pulsing as he added another thick load to the mess inside you.
sukuna pulled out of your mouth right as gojo started to come down, stroking himself fast over your face. he came with a low curse, painting fresh stripes across your tongue and lips, some dripping down to join the drying mess already there.
when gojo finally eased out, thick, creamy rivulets of all of them leaked from your abused hole. you lay there panting, legs still trembling, body slick and marked everywhere.
toji leaned down, dragging two fingers through the mess between your thighs before bringing them to your lips.
“clean up,” he murmured, voice rough with satisfaction. “taste what we did to you.”
you sucked weakly, tongue curling around his fingers as the taste of everything filled your mouth.
you finally calmed down, assuming it was over.
then sukuna shifted, sliding off the couch only to pull you down with him onto the thick rug in front of it. he sat with his back against the base of the couch and hauled you into his lap, facing away so your back pressed to his chest. his still-hard cock nudged at your entrance again, slick and insistent.
before you could catch your breath he sank in…slow this time, inch by thick inch—until he was seated fully inside you once more.
your next orgasm didn’t build. it detonated.
you screamed loud. body convulsing so hard sukuna had to tighten his hold to keep you from bucking off him. he fucked you through it without mercy, chasing his own release until he buried himself deep and came with a low, animal snarl, adding another hot flood to the mess inside you.
when it was over you were limp, trembling, covered in sweat and cum and bruises that would bloom dark and beautiful by morning.
sukuna stayed seated inside you for long moments, arms locked around your waist, lips brushing your temple in something almost tender.
“breathe,” he murmured.
gojo pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then your tear-streaked cheek.
toji simply draped one massive hand over your thigh, thumb stroking idle circles against the sensitive skin.
“you did so fucking good,” gojo whispered, voice wrecked with awe.
sukuna finally eased out of you with a slow, you whimper at the sudden emptiness. he shifted you gently…surprisingly gentle for him. now you were cradled sideways in his lap on the rug, head tucked under his chin, one tattooed arm banded securely around your ribs like he still wasn’t ready to let go completely.
for a few long minutes no one spoke.
just the sound of four sets of lungs catching up, the faint city drone filtering through the glass, your own heartbeat thundering in your ears. your body felt liquid, heavy, deliciously used. every muscle ached in the best way.
your skin was painted with fingerprints, bite marks, streaks of drying cum. the slow drip between your legs only made you feel more claimed, more theirs.
gojo was the first to move.
he stretched languidly beside you, then leaned over to brush sweat-damp strands of hair from your face. his touch was feather-light now, reverent.
“hey,” he murmured, voice soft, “still with us, baby?”
you managed a tiny nod, lashes fluttering. words felt too far away.
toji grunted, pushing to his feet with a wince. he looked down at the three of you.
sukuna still holding you, gojo stroking your cheek.
“gonna go shower,” he rasped. “you’re a fuckin’ mess, doll. i’ll bring a towel.”
he padded barefoot toward the master bathroom. the sound of the shower kicking on a minute later was distant white noise, steady and soothing.
sukuna’s chest rumbled against your back as he let out a low sigh. his fingers traced idle patterns along your hip.
“got a fight in a couple hours,” he said quietly, almost reluctant. “big match. can’t miss it.”
you felt a small pang. irrational after everything—but the thought of him leaving even for a few hours made your chest tighten. he must have felt the shift because he pressed his lips to your temple again.
“i’ll be back before dawn,” he promised. “gonna win quick. then i’m coming straight here to collect my prize.”
he kissed the shell of your ear, then carefully transferred you into gojo’s waiting arms. sukuna stood, stretching so every inked muscle flexed under the low lights. he looked like sin personified.
“don’t let satoru talk you into round four before i get back.”
"fuck you." gojo says flipping him off only for the older guy to laugh at him.
then he was gone—grabbing his discarded shirt, tugging it on as he headed for the door. the soft click behind him felt strangely final, but you were too tired to worry.
gojo gathered you fully against his chest and stood with surprising ease, carrying you toward the bedroom like you were made of glass.
“c’mon, princess,” he murmured into your hair. “let’s get you cleaned up a little. you’ve earned the soft treatment now.”
the bedroom was dim, lit only by city glow through half-closed blinds. gojo laid you in the center of the enormous bed and disappeared for a moment, returning with a warm, damp cloth and soothing lotion.
he knelt beside you. the cloth was heaven against your overheated skin. he wiped your face first—chin, lips, cheeks—then down your throat, between your breasts, careful around every bruise and bite mark. when he reached between your thighs he paused, eyes flicking to yours.
“too much?” he asked softly.
you shook your head, even though you were so sensitive it almost hurt.
he cleaned you with infinite patience, murmuring little praises—“so pretty even like this,” “took us so well,” “my brave girl”—until you were mostly free of the sticky evidence. then he warmed the lotion between his palms and smoothed it over the worst of the marks.
his touch felt like he was worshipping you. well it's no surprise because satoru has always been the sweetest out of the three.
when he was done he crawled onto the bed, pulling the comforter over both of you and tugging you into the cradle of his body,
your back to his chest, his arm draped possessively over your waist, chin tucked over your shoulder. he was still half-dressed. his pants unbuttoned, shirt hanging open but the warmth of him was perfect.
“you okay?” he asked for what felt like the sixth time tonight.
you nodded, reaching back to thread your fingers through his white hair.
“more than okay, thank you toru.”
he smiled against your skin that you could feel the curve of it.
“good. because i’m not letting you out of this bed until you’ve slept at least eight hours. doctor’s orders.”
you huffed a tiny laugh, already feeling exhaustion drag at your limbs.
“you’re not a doctor.”
“i’m your doctor tonight,” he countered, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. “and my prescription is cuddles, water, maybe some painkillers in the morning, and absolutely no more cock until you can walk without wobbling.”
another soft laugh bubbled out of you, sleepy and content.
the shower shut off down the hall. a minute later toji appeared in the doorway—towel slung low around his hips, hair dripping, looking unfairly good even bone-tired. he took one look at you curled in gojo’s arms and something soft flickered across his face.
“she good?” he asked quietly.
gojo nodded. “floating. probably gonna pass out in the next thirty seconds.”
toji grunted in approval, then crossed to the bed and dropped down on your other side, stretching out so you were sandwiched between them. his hand found yours under the covers, rough fingers lacing with yours in a grip that felt like an anchor.
“sleep, doll,” he muttered.
you did.
the last thing you registered before darkness claimed you was gojo’s lips brushing your shoulder in a feather-light kiss, toji’s steady heartbeat against your palm, and the distant promise of sukuna coming home soon.
𝜗𝜚 maybe giving your hot best friend boner meds wasn’t very smart . . .
( mdni. cw: gojo suffers from erectile dysfunction, reader gives him viagra without him knowing, degradation, dumbification, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, overstim, gojo has a huge dih )
repost !!
you thought you were doing him a favor.
“i’m just saying,” he’d slurred a few nights ago, drunk off three beers and half a shot, head in your lap as he whined about his “tragic dick situation.”
you were scrolling on your phone, half-listening, idly scratching your nails through his hair like you always did when he gets drunk and clingy. “what tragic dick situation?” you asked, barely looking up.
“i think i’m broken, dude.”
your thumb paused over the screen. “…what?”
“no for real,” he groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face like he couldn’t bear to speak the words out loud. “couldn’t even get it up the other night. she was hot, too.”
you blinked. “maybe you were nervous?”
he groaned louder. “no. it was limp. like a noodle. a sad, floppy—”
“please shut up.”
“it’s dead, y/n,” he mumbled, with the conviction of a man who just lost everything in the divorce. “i have a ghost dick.”
you had to shove him off your lap for that one, laughing too hard to even be gentle about it. he rolled onto the floor and just lay there, dramatically sprawled, staring at the ceiling with the emptiest expression known to man. you thought it was a joke. something stupid he’d say while drunk and overly theatrical. but later that night, when you’re in bed staring off into space, his words kept replaying in your head.
a ghost dick. a broken dick. gojo satoru… flaccid?
you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
not that you cared about his random hookup or worried for his ego. but because, objectively, there was absolutely no reason for a man like him to ever be soft unless he wanted to be. 6’3, gorgeous, cocky as hell. dumb pretty eyes and long fingers and abs for days. he once moaned in your ear during a horror movie when you jumped and accidentally sat on his lap— said it was your fault. another time he leaned over you to grab the remote and whispered “do i make you nervous?” because your breath hitched. and don’t even get started on the way he’d sometimes walk around your apartment like it was his, half-naked in those cursed grey sweatpants, scratching his toned stomach and yawning like he wasn’t already the center of your personal hell.
so yeah. it wasn’t fair. the universe couldn’t just throw a man like that into your life and then also curse him with a broken dick. it didn’t make sense. it bothered you.
and because your brain was absolutely not wired correctly, you decided to take matters into your own hands.
three— maybe four— little blue pills. the bottle said one, sure, but you wanted to be certain it would take effect. crushed, mixed, stirred into his gatorade before he got there for your usual saturday night hang. he drank it without a second thought, sitting on your couch with one leg folded under him, sipping like he always did while complaining about how hard it is being this hot and pretending not to watch you stretch across the floor in your tiny shorts.
you weren’t even planning on doing anything. not really. you just wanted to see if it worked. wanted proof that his dick still functioned, for scientific purposes or whatever. just a little experiment. harmless!
you did not expect to spend the next hour getting absolutely annihilated.
+
“what the fuck did you give me,” he pants, white strands sticking to his forehead, sweat dripping down his temples, dick still hard, still buried balls deep inside your swollen, aching pussy.
your whole body’s trembling. thighs twitching, arms weak, lungs barely catching breath between sobs. you’ve already cum— twice? no, three times. maybe four. you’re not even keeping track anymore. everything’s sticky, slick, drenched in sweat and spit and the mess between your legs, and your voice comes out wrecked when you finally manage to breathe:
“just… a lil viagra…”
he blinks, once. then laughs— sharp and breathless and slightly unhinged as he grips your hips again, fingertips digging so hard you know you’re gonna bruise. “a little?” he echoes, cock pulsing inside you. “baby, this isn’t a little. this is the fuckin’ olympics.”
you barely get chance to protest before he starts moving again, hips snapping up, driving into you with utmost force like he’s trying to touch your fucking lungs. you squeal, legs kicking uselessly, eyes rolling back as the stretch hits again— painful, dizzying, toe-curling. it doesn’t even feel like you’ve had a break. every inch of your cunt’s raw and sore and he’s still fucking you like he just started. you swear he’s gotten harder. thicker. the first time he pushed in you genuinely thought he was going to break you, and now, it’s just worse. it’s been hell. delicious, addicting, horrifying hell.
“you wanted to help?” he grits out, slamming up again, his voice low and mean, sharp enough to slice through the moan that slips out of you. the squelch from between your legs is embarrassing in volume and way too revealing. “wanted to fix me?”
“yes- i’m sorry, fuck, ‘toru, you’re so big- i didn’t know—!”
“nah,” he spits, pulling out just to ram himself back in all at once, making your entire body spasm. your mouth falls open in a silent cry, tears leaking down your cheeks as your pussy clenches around him, begging for mercy. “don’t apologize now. you did this. you wanted to see if my dick still worked?” he thrusts again, even deeper. “here you fuckin’ go.”
his pace is brutal. relentless. his stamina? inhuman. everytime you try to crawl away, squirm, or twist your hips and breathe, he clasps your thighs and drags you right back down onto him, using your body as his own personal toy. your cunt’s soaked, slippery, stretched out beyond imagination from the constant pressure and the punishing way he keeps fucking into you like he can’t stop— like the drug is pumping through his veins and turning him into a machine. his cock glides in and out with wet, messy sounds, the fat tip dragging across your abused walls, kissing your cervix with every stroke.
“gonna write a report on it?” he huffs against your neck, biting your shoulder hard enough to make you jolt. “‘viagra results: gojo satoru fucks like a demon.’ put that shit in a thesis.”
“shut up—!” you cry, slapping weakly at his arm, but it’s no use. your moans betray you anyway— breathy, high-pitched, stupid. your body’s giving up, your pussy’s giving in, clenching so tight around him it’s like your brain’s trying to melt out of your ears.
“make me,” he snarls, thrusting harder, faster, he’s so deep your vision goes white for a second.
you try. you really do. but he’s fucking you so hard now you can barely think, let alone speak. every word dies on your tongue, strangled by the way your breath stutters, whimpers tumbling out of your mouth like sobs. your moans get slurred, choked, punched out of you with every thrust. your eyes roll back and still, he doesn’t stop.
“fuck, listen to you,” he pants, staring down at the way your tits bounce wildly with every roll of his hips. “actin’ like a lil sex doll. my dumb, pretty fucktoy.” he leans closer, tongue dragging across the rim of your jaw. “you wanted me hard? wanted me desperate? look at what you did to me.”
you nod dumbly, overwhelmed to the point you could hardly remember your own name. the moment those words leave his mouth, your pussy squeezes like it’s trying to trap him in. he groans, deep and ragged, cock twitching violently inside you.
“toru, i can’t, i can’t anymore—” you sob, voice cracking completely.
“yes you can,” he growls, “you will. i’m not done testing.”
and then he flips you over, quick and brutal, your face shoved into the sheets before you even have time to react. you shriek when he yanks your hips up and slams back inside, no warning, no mercy, the angle curves his cock right into your g-spot with maddening precision. you scream into the pillow. scream again when he grabs your hair and pulls, arching your back for him, his hips pistoning into your ass with a sound so loud it’s practically pornographic.
you don’t even try to crawl anymore. it’s pointless. your body’s done. broken in. you just lay there and take it, crying into the sheets while he wrecks you from behind, drilling into you over and over and over. as one of his hands fists your hair, the other’s slapping your ass so hard it burns, the sting blooming across your skin in waves.
“so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, jaw clenched. “so wet. so mine. god, look at you. takin’ this monster cock like you were made for it.”
you can’t stop clenching. can’t stop cumming. he fucks you through another orgasm, and another, until your thighs seize up and your brain’s nothing but static. your drool seeps into the pillow. your moans have dissolved into nothing but mindless gasps and cracked cries. you’re babbling nonsense, stuttering, barely conscious.
and the most terrifying part?
he still isn’t done.
+
you wake up the next morning with your legs completely numb and gojo snuggled up beside you, soft snores puffing against your neck, his heavy arm draped across your waist like dead weight. your entire body aches. your thighs are sticky. your hips feel as if they’ve been dislocated. you try to move— just a little— and immediately regret it. your knees wobble at the mere thought of standing. your pussy’s still twitching, your sheets are ruined, and he’s still somehow half-hard against your ass.
you groan softly. try to sit up. fail instantly.
gojo stirs beside you, yawns into your skin, then peels himself away with a pitiful grunt. he blinks around the room like he has no idea where he is, squints down at his still throbbing erection and mutters something about “fuckin’ viagra from hell” under his breath. then he limps off to the bathroom, still naked, cupping his dick like he’s protecting it from a sniper.
you’re barely awake when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. the screen lights up with a notification.
gojo (dumbass 🫶):
bro
this thing still won’t go down
can’t even piss
help 😭
rip gojo after this bc he’s def dying from that lethal dose of viagra 🕊️💔 (i was debating on reposting this tbhhh, but i feel like i gave enough warnings at the top so if anyone still reads it and gets #triggered then that’s on u babes)
୨୧ — "Keep holding onto that stupid stuffed animal," Sukuna snarls, forcing your thighs wider with no regard for your trembling muscles. The seam of his pants grinds into your swollen clit as he aligns himself, fully clothed while you're left bare, undone beneath him. He flashes you a grin, "I want you to ruin it- drown it in your tears while i remind you what this pretty body was made for."
Your grip tightens on the Hello Kitty plush, nails biting into it's cotton face as your wet lashes blink up at him. His cock slips back into your cunt, stretching you around the previous load he'd already left inside.
"m'too full," You whimper, "gonna- gon' burst- please-"
"Shut up." he growls, teeth grazing your jaw. His thrusts start sharp- hard enough to make your breasts jiggle with each smack of his hips. His pace is unrelenting- like he's trying to beat his cum deeper into you with each snap forward. You feel a little bit of it spill out each time he pulls out, only to have it squish back in alongside more, "You're pathetic, but fuck-" Sukuna's teeth sink into the tender spot below your ear, "this pussy makes up for everything.
Your sobs fill the room, swallowed by the now damp plush clutched to your face, your teeth digging into its worn material as the tip of his cock beats into your cervix- "s'ho full- s'too big! nngh-!" you hiccup, your belly slightly bulging where the fat head of his cock attempts to stretch your womb.
"Fuck... I can see it again" he croons, pressing a thumb to the slight swell of your belly, "almost feel bad for the next poor bastard-" Sukuna laughs lowly, "he won't be able to fill you half as good."
There won't be a next guy. He'd fucking make sure of it- not when you looked so perfect, so needy with him, crying his name in your sweet little voice. But you don't need to know that. Don't need to know he'll be keeping an eye out, waiting for some other schmuck to get handsy and let his guard down long enough for Sukuna to slip a hand around his neck and drag him to the nearest dark alley... or an abandoned building. Whichever is closest at the time.
The fairy lights above cast a soft glow over your writhing form as he uses you roughly, degrading words falling from his lips between harsh grunts. Your glossed lips part around desperate moans as he hits that spongey spot deep within you- the one that has you squeezing tighter around his dick.
"That’s it- squeeze me," he grunts, one hand yanking your hair until your throat arches, the other locking around your waist as he dips his head low, tongue sliding across your tear damp cheek. "Look at you, mascara running down your face, lip gloss smeared everywhere," he taunts, yanking your head to force eye contact. "Such a pretty little mess-" his pretty little mess... "Bet you can't even count how many times I've filled this greedy cunt today."
You shake your head pitifully, proving him right as hot tears streak your flushed face, dampening the plush toy more. Every roll of his cock inside you wrings out another ragged cry until speech is impossible- just broken pleas.
Sukuna chuckles, the sound almost affectionate if not for the cruelty glinting in his red eyes, "That's right, numbers are too hard for that empty head," he mocks, "just focus on taking my cock like a good little bimbo. It's all you're good for anyway." Its not... And he hates that- how you managed to worm your way under his skin and make him want more. Want you. Forever.
He pulls out with a groan, watching the thick string of his cum connect the two of you- watching the way your pussy struggles to keep his prior loads in. His hand strokes his length, squeezing and twisting along the fat vein that runs along the underside before smearing the head of his cock through your folds, pressing at your entrance.
A moan escapes him at the sight of his cockhead stretching your abused hole- he looks down at you, gaze hooded, "How many more do you think it will take? Before I fuck you pregnant."
Well shit… where the hell did that come from? His eyes widen a fraction- caught off guard by his own admission. His jaw ticks as he stares at you, silently willing you to speak. To say something, anything, instead of looking at him with those wide, glassy eyes.
Your fingers flex around the plush, a soft noise escaping your throat, and Sukuna wonders if you even heard him.
You did.
But it didn't sound right- no. He couldn't mean it- guys like him don’t actually want girls like you, much less knock them up. Right?
So then why is he looking at you like that? Like he's daring you to call him on his bluff.
You open your mouth- wanting to say something, but nothing comes out… instead you lie there trembling, still clutching the tear stained Hello Kitty plushie when something unexpected happens.
Sukuna's rough hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing away some of your smeared makeup with surprising gentleness. "Stupid woman," he grumbles…
You blink up at him in confusion through clumped lashes, your lip gloss stained mouth parting in surprise when he actually leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Don't get the wrong idea," he growls, but his fingers are threading through your tangled hair almost soothingly. "It’s just a kink of mine."
Six months later, you're standing in the ice cream aisle, one hand on your rounded belly as you debate between chocolate chip cookie dough and strawberry ice cream… Sukuna stands beside you, arms crossed, looking thoroughly bored by your indecision, like always.
You're about to reach for the strawberry when you notice him toss something into the cart behind you. Turning around, you blink in surprise at the soft pink Hello Kitty plushie now sitting among your groceries.
"Sukuna?" you ask, confusion clear in your voice as you look up at him. You thought he hated this sort of stuff- he'd certainly made enough comments about your "ridiculous obsession" over the months.
He catches your stare and tsk's in annoyance, a faint flush creeping up his neck, "What? I saw you staring at the ugly thing when we passed the toy section," he grumbles, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets… "Figured you wanted it for the nursery or whatever."
Your heart does a little flip, but before you can say anything sweet, he continues with a scowl, "This brat better have better taste than you," he mutters, but his hand comes to rest protectively on your lower back- guiding you toward the checkout, "Now come on, let's get home."
