Vivistrello

I am so normal about the huzzes

[c1nnam0roll-08]

˙⟡FANTASY✧˖

Your man has been begging to try something new...and who are you to deny him?

˙⟡ FEATURING: Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna

˙⟡ CONTENT WARNINGS: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, squirting, overstimulation, bondage, bdsm elements, somnophilia, oral (m rec), creampies, double penetration, praise, degradation, vibrators, dubious consent at times, crying, pet names, swearing, brief murder, non-curse choso

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　　　

SATORU GOJO ~ TOYS

It’s no secret that Satoru loves watching you squirm—hips writhing, tears glistening, legs twitching. He adores those high pitched sounds you make when you’re overwhelmed, delicate hands trying to push him away when he fucks you a little too deep. 

So now he wonders…

How loud would you scream if he added some toys to the mix? 

“No, no, no-“ you’re begging, tummy tensing and hips bucking as Satoru brings the wand back up to your already overstimulated clit. “I can’t, Toru!” 

“Oh, come on, angel-“ he rolls his hips, smooching your cervix with his leaky tip to make you squeal. “You’re not tapping out already, are you?” he mocks you, turning the vibrations back on- 

“Fuck!” you’re crying, legs kicking and hands smacking Satoru’s abs in an attempt to save yourself from another tortuous orgasm. “Too much- I c-can’tttt-“ 

“I don’t care, baby.” his voice is sickeningly sweet, sapphire eyes crazed as he watches you with a twisted satisfaction. “Gimme another one-“ he grunts, hips settling back into a slow rhythm—he hits that pleasurable spot deep inside you with cruel precision every time. 

“Feels- ngh- different!” the pleasure-pain that courses through your veins is intoxicating—you can feel every painful buzz on your overly sensitive clit, your tummy contracting every time he hits the very back of your abused cunt. 

“You can do it, princess-“ Satoru chuckles, leaning over you to plant wet kisses on your tear-stained cheeks. “Just relaxxx and let it happen, hun.” 

“Please-!” you squeal, not sure if you're asking for more or for it to end—your entire body jerks, once, twice-

“Fuckkk, baby.” Satoru groans, hips stuttering as you squeeze him so tight. Clear liquid comes out in spurts, soaking his pelvis and the bedsheets as your cunt visibly pulses. 

You let out broken moans as Satoru fucks you through your orgasm—pathetic gushes of your squirt slowly decreasing in amount. 

“No more- can’t-“ the bliss of your orgasm dulls into a full body ache—your hands pull at the forearm holding the wand, trying to pry it off. “Toru- it hurtsss-“ you sob, feet kicking as his body weight remains pinning you down. 

“Shhh- s’okay, angel-“ he coos, finally pulling the nightmare of a device off your swollen nub and turning it off. “Did sooo good-“ he pecks your quivering lips, holding you close as your body  tremors. 

“How many times was that?” Satoru laughs, still balls deep inside of you. “Felt like a new record for you, babe.” he gives the side of your hips a few smacks, urging you to speak. 

“Dunno.” you whisper, falling limp against the messy sheets. 

“Hey-“ he smacks your hip again. “I’m proud of you, princess.” 

CHOSO KAMO ~ SOMNOPHILIA

Choso and yourself had a conversation not too long ago—about your boyfriend’s tendency to need sex all the time, that is. Before the two of you got together, your previous partners had a hard time keeping up with your libido. But ever since you met Choso, your sex drive has been put to shame. 

To solve this…issue, you had given Choso the green light to use you when you’re asleep—in the event that you’re too tired, at least. 

You’re softly snoring when Choso enters the room, his dick straining against his jeans as he stalks towards the bed. He had a hard day, but he was even harder—he couldn’t stop thinking about your voice, your silky hair, the dip of your waist, your hips-

Your pussy. 

He gently pulls the covers from your form, only to find you naked—nipples peaked, legs spread, cunt glistening just for him.  “God damn, sweetheart.” he mumbles, unbuckling his studded belt and taking his sweat scented shirt off (yum). 

His fingers explore you tentatively, soft brushes across your nipples all the way down to your bare mound. You don’t stir, breaths remaining stable as he collects your slick—bringing it up to his gaping mouth for a greedy taste.  

Choso climbs on top of you, making a place for himself between your legs. He crowds you, nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent like a dog. “Mfmm- missed you, love.” he gets a sleepy snore in response, a giggle escapes his throat before his hands return to groping you. 

He frees his cock from the confines of his boxers and starts grinding in the wetness of your pussy lips—his leaky tip painting your clit with glossy pre. “Been waiting to fuck you all day, pretty-“ he licks a hot stripe up the side of your neck, lining himself up and pushing in-

“Cho?” you whimper, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you’re fucked open.

“Shh- just me, sweetheart-“ he bottoms out with a sigh of relief, planting a wet smooch on your lips and squeezing your plump tits. “Go back to sleep-“ he murmurs, his deep voice soothing you. 

“M’kay-“ you’re far too tired to be bothered by the fullness of your cunt—you’ve grown accustomed to the feeling, so much so that it lulls you back to sleep. 

“Sooo good for me.” Choso chokes back a whimper, gently thrusting in and out of your warmth. It doesn’t take him long to paint your insides with his sticky cum—with the tension of the day, the simple wet, heat of your pussy is enough for him to drown in pleasure. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” he whispers fondly as he pulls out, covering your relaxed body with kisses while he waits for his release to leak out of you. 

Choso makes sure to snap a picture of that precious creampie before cleaning you up and snuggling next to his beloved girlfriend. 

He’ll probably fuck you in the morning too.

TOJI FUSHIGURO ~ ANAL

“How does that feel, doll?” Toji grunts, your little pucker is squeezing him unbelievably tight—your body weight resting on his chest and legs pulled up, up, up in a full nelson-

After about a week of working you up with his fingers, Toji came to the conclusion that you were ready for his dick. Although, given how big he is, your smallest hole still wasn't fully prepared for the intense stretch. 

“Feels weird-“ you’ve never felt so full yet so empty in your life—the sensation is similar…but like it’s happening next door, making your cunt clench around nothing. You let out a choked gasp when he shifts just a little bit- “Fuck- ngh- too deep-“ 

“Gotta let loose, doll-“ he snakes a large hand down your front, nibbling and licking your ear before making contact with your glistening pussy. “Can’t- mfm- tense like that.” he rubs your clit in slow circles, occasionally dipping down to your hole and collecting more slick. 

“Haaa-“ you let out a breathy moan, trying your best not to close your legs around the stimulation—not that you really could, given that they’re being forced open by Toji’s arms. “Feels good-“ 

“Yeahh it does, doll-“ Toji thrusts his hips justtt a tad, experimenting with your limits. You yelp, head falling limp on his shoulder—your back arches off of his abs, inadvertently taking his cock even further into your ass. “Told you it’d feel nice, heh-“

“Want more-“ you whine, the pressure feels amazing, the heavy weight of him seated deep inside of you makes you wish you had agreed to this sooner. 

“More?” Toji huffs a laugh. “You’re just perfect, aren’t ya?” the hand on your clit sneaks lower, two girthy fingers slide inside of your neglected cunt and curl- 

“Ohhh my god-“ Toji’s hips settle in a slow, shallow pace, keeping you nice and stuffed while he fingers you with fervor—audible squelches and loud cries fill your once quiet bedroom. 

“Yeahh- you like getting your pretty little holes stuffed, huh?” the heel of his palm grinds against your clit with every single prod of his fingers to that spongy spot inside your pussy—you swear you can feel his dick rubbing against his digits through the separating wall with every thrust- 

“Gonna cum!” you squeal, body thrashing in Toji’s hold as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt builds to a peak- 

“Good fuckin’ girl-“ 

Toji had never expected his girlfriend—the one who wouldn’t even let him eat her ass a few weeks ago—would turn into such an anal slut. As of recently, that’s all you’ll ever ask him for: to be fucked in the ass while he plays with your pretty pussy. 

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.

SUGURU GETO ~ SHIBARI

Suguru loves being in control—he adores seeing you on your knees, eyes wide, as you wait for him to give you a command. So safe to say you weren’t surprised when he started tying you up during sex. 

It started with just him holding your wrists, keeping you where he wanted you. Then he upgraded to handcuffs, some simple knots with silk, maybe a belt-

But nothing compares to how he has you right now. 

“Too tight, gorgeous?” he asks, tying the last of many delicately woven knots. You watch his veined hands tug at the rope intently, your slick dripping down the crevice of your ass no doubt. 

“A little.” you admit, unable to move your limbs—your legs are spread wide, knees forcibly bent from the rope that binds your calves to your thighs, heels flush to your ass. Your hands are tied to your sides, breasts framed tightly with the same rope that circles your spine and shoulders. 

It’s an art form, no denying that, but it is a little uncomfortable. You know it shouldn’t be, but Suguru enjoys leaving marks on you. 

“Good.” he purrs, walking around the bed until he’s standing next to your head. “Open up, baby.” he taps your cheek, thick cock hanging over your face with a fox-like grin plastered across his features. 

Suguru slides into your willing mouth with a groan, hungry eyes wandering over his handiwork. “You’re so beautiful like this-“ one of his hands buries in your hair while the other caresses your tied body. “Pliant and unable to squirm-“ he pinches your nipple, hard- 

“Mfmm!” you whine around his dick—Suguru is fucking your throat, holding your head still by your scalp. Electricity shoots straight down to your clit every time a groan slips past his lips, your cheeks are hollowed, desperate to please. 

“You’re so wet, gorgeous.” his hand snakes down to your cunt, collecting the obscene amount of slick and bringing it up to your clit. “I’d almost think you could- ngh- cum from me fucking your mouth alone.” Suguru laughs, grip in your hair tightening.

“Mhmm!” you try to nod but he keeps you still, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag—there’s a mix of your spit and Suguru’s pre dripping down your chin, but you can’t bring yourself to care when he finally starts rubbing your neglected clit. 

“Such a dirty girl-“ he pulls his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, using the concoction of fluids to gloss your lips. “You like being tied up, huh?” 

“Yes.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA ~ EXHIBITIONISM

The King of Curses is an avid enjoyer of your humiliation—he loves watching the embarrassed flush rise to his favorite whore’s face when he tells you to kneel in a room full of people. 

It started with you being forced to feed him fruit while he’s sat on his throne, then he made you do it naked, and now-

“Tsk- eyes on them, brat.” he tuts, one of many hands grabbing your face and forcing it forward. 

It was about that time of the year that Sukuna had people from each of the villages bring him offerings to save themselves from an inevitable slaughter—only today, he yearned to put on a show it seems. 

“Look at those scum while I take you-“ he pulls you back down on his cocks, forced so deep in your holes you swear you’ll burst. “Show them how generous I am.” an evil cackle radiates throughout the main room of the shrine, a wide crowd of eyes trained on the obscene display in front of them. 

If it weren’t for Sukuna’s prior threat of decapitation, you’re sure they all would’ve scrambled out the ornate doors over an hour ago. 

“So generous- nghh- Kuna!” your whines bounce off the walls, along with the squelching of your slick. Your legs are spread wide, draping across the armrests with your stuffed cunt and ass on full display for the unwilling audience. 

“Such a good cocksleeve aren’t you, my dear?” he croons into your ear from behind, huge arms maneuvering you up and down, down, down his monstrous dicks. It’s brutal—you’ve cum multiple times already, the evidence dripping down your ass and onto the ground beneath you. 

“Mhmm!” you nod profusely, another orgasm already worming its way into your belly. You unfortunately lock eyes with a frightened woman as your body starts to convulse—a torturous stream of squirt sprays with every pound- 

“That’s right, brat-“ Sukuna grunts, his grip on your face bruising. “Show them how good I make whores like you feel, heh-“ his many eyes roam the crowd, making sure they’re all still watching until-

Screaming.

Blood splatters across your face as someone close loses their head—an almost equally disgusting display as to what’s happening on the throne. 

“I warned them.”

(c1nnam0roll-08 / 2026)

[kneelforgeto]

I LOVE THE IDEA OF CHOSO'S LIBIDO BEING OFF THE ROOF???? HELLO??? AND SUGURU TYING ME UP??? FUCK YES

[bedsheeteater]

castle crashers 😁😁😁😆😆!! i still draw! if your curious😇 frost king, barbarian boss, blacksmith😍.. any1 else wanna be crushed by the barbarian boss k bye

[lemxnns]

DONT LOOK!

── synopsis .✦ Your cult-leading lover, Suguru Geto, has some unconventional ways of showing his love. It just so happens that one of those methods consists of reminding both you and his cult of his ownership over you! Exhibiting you is just a bonus.

── contains .✦ female!reader, cult leader!geto, pwp, p in v, standing sex, multiple orgasms, possessive!suguru, light choking, breath play, breeding kink, praise kink, exhibitionism, creampies, depictions/mentions of murder, reader is a bit shy, suguru is obsessed with reader, mdni!

── word count .✦ 2.3k!

The air in the grand hall of Suguru Geto’s cult compound hung thick with incense and murmured chants, the low hum of devotion vibrating through the stone floors. 

Rows upon rows of followers knelt in perfect submission, their foreheads pressed to the ground, eyes sealed shut by the weight of their master’s command. No one dared lift their gaze; to do so invited the wrath of the curses that slithered unseen in the shadows, hungry for disobedience. 

At the center of it all, elevated on a dais that felt like a throne of opulence and power, Suguru had his prize – you – bent slightly forward, your body on full display for him alone, even if the cult’s ears caught every gasp and slap of skin.

You’d lost track of how long he’d been buried inside you, his thick cock stretching your pussy with relentless, deep thrusts that made your knees buckle. 

Sweat slicked your skin, your dress hiked up around your waist, breasts heaving free and exposed to the cool air. The shame burned hot in your cheeks – knowing all these people were right there, listening, even if they couldn’t see. 

Your legs quivered beneath you, barely holding you up as Suguru’s strong arm wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed possessively on your hip, fingers digging in just enough to steady you. His other hand curled lightly around your throat from behind, not squeezing hard, just a gentle pressure that kept your head tilted back against his shoulder, forcing you to arch into him. 

It was intimate, controlling, making every plunge of his hips feel like he owned every inch of you.

“Look at you, my sweet girl.” Suguru murmured against your ear, his voice a low, velvety rumble that carried just far enough for the front rows of his followers to hear, though their faces remained buried in submission. “Taking me so perfectly, even with all these eyes that aren’t worthy to witness your beauty.”

His words sent a fresh wave of heat flooding your core, your walls clenching around the veined length of him as he ground deeper, the bulbous head of his cock nudging against that spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids.

You bit your lip, heat flooding your cheeks as awareness prickled at the edges of your pleasure-fogged mind. 

They couldn’t see – not really, with their heads bowed in reverence – but the knowledge that dozens of bodies surrounded you, listening to every gasp and slap of skin, made your stomach twist with shy vulnerability. 

“S– Suguru…!” You stammered, voice slurred from the intensity, words fracturing as another thrust jolted through you. “What if they hear—ah!” 

A moan cut you off, high and needy, your hands clutching at his forearm around your throat for support.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring, his breath ghosting over your neck as he nipped at your earlobe. “Let them hear. Let them know how good I make you feel.” 

“Mmh…” You whined weakly in protest, although both of you knew you were only bluffing.

Hand slipping lower on your hip, his thumb circled your swollen clit in lazy strokes that had you bucking back against him. “You’re shaking already, sweetheart… legs all weak because of me, hm?”

The light chokehold on your throat tightened just a fraction, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your pulse race under his palm, your breaths coming in short, needy pants. It held you upright when your body wanted to collapse, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as another wave of ecstasy built low in your belly.

Suguru’s free hand slid up from your puffy nub to splay across your lower belly, pressing down just enough to feel the obscene bulge his cock created with each deep plunge. 

“Feel that, pretty? That’s me, claiming every inch of you. You’re mine, and they’ll never so much as dream of touching what’s sacred.” 

The pressure made stars burst behind your eyelids, amplifying the way he filled you, the head of his cock nudging insistently against your cervix, sending sparks of pleasure-pain radiating through your core.

Suguru’s focus remained solely on you, rolling his hips in a slow, grinding circle, stirring his thick girth inside your fluttering walls. It coaxed fresh gushes of your essence to ease his movements. 

Your pussy was a mess: swollen and sensitive from the prolonged fucking, lips puffy and parted around his invading shaft, clinging to him as if afraid to let go. 

“Such a tight little cunt.” He praised, his tone laced with suave admiration, loud enough to ensure his words carried. “Made for me alone. These fools worship from afar, but only I get to—hah, so wet—worship you like this.”

Your breath hitched, legs wobbling dangerously as the coil in your belly tightened once more.

“I– I can’t... it’s too much, nhh!” You whispered, stuttering through the words, your voice barely audible over the slick rhythm of his thrusts. 

But even as you said it, your hips pushed back instinctively, chasing the friction, betraying your shy protests.

“You can, and you will.” Suguru cooed, his hand on your throat loosening just a fraction to let you gasp for air, thumb stroking your pulse point soothingly. 

He punctuated his sentence with a particularly deep thrust, his cock bottoming out until you felt the bulge of him pressing against your lower abdomen from the inside, a visible swell under your skin that made you gasp. Your hand flew to your stomach instinctively, fingers splaying over the obscene outline of his dick reshaping you.

Your first orgasm crashed over you without mercy, a tidal wave that seized your muscles and dragged a keening cry from your lips. Your pussy convulsed around his cock, walls rippling in tight, milking squeezes that tried to pull him deeper, your juices gushing out to soak his thighs. 

“F-Fuck! Suguru—oh god, I’m c-cumming!” The words dissolved into a slur of nonsense, your vision blurring as pleasure ripped through you, legs giving out entirely. 

Only his hold kept you from crumbling – hand firm on your hip, the other guiding your head back so you could feel his smirk against your skin.

“Mmm, that’s my girl.” Suguru purred, his free hand roaming up from your hip to cup one of your breasts, thumb flicking over the hardened nipple.

 He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, fucking you through the aftershocks with shallow, grinding thrusts that prolonged the ecstasy until you were sobbing softly, oversensitive and trembling. 

The cult remained deathly still, their breaths held in reverence, but you could feel the weight of their attention, the forbidden thrill of it all making your clit throb anew. The exposure made you squirm, a fresh blush creeping down your neck – your tits bouncing with every thrust, fully bared to the room, even if eyes were forbidden. 

“These are perfect too. So soft, so full. Bet they’d look even better—nghh,—swollen with my kid.” The breeding kink laced into his words sent a jolt straight to your core, your pussy fluttering in response, squeezing him tighter.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan, but it escaped anyway. 

“Suguuu…! Not here... they’re l– listening…” Your voice was a pathetic slur, words tripping over themselves as pleasure coiled tighter. 

The light pressure on your throat amplified everything, making your head swim, breaths shallow and hot. His fingers, long and elegant, spanned the column of your neck easily, a reminder of his strength, his control.

A sudden gasp from the crowd shattered the illusion of perfect obedience. 

One of the followers – a younger man near the edge of the front row – had dared to lift his head, eyes wide with forbidden curiosity, stealing a glimpse of your exposed form, the way Suguru’s cock disappeared into your dripping folds. 

The air thickened instantly, a malevolent energy crackling as Suguru’s curse stirred to life without a word from him. 

A grotesque, shadowy tendril erupted from the floor, coiling around the intruder’s neck like a serpent before yanking him backward with brutal force. A choked scream cut short into a wet gurgle, the body convulsing once before going limp, dragged into the darkness beyond the torchlight.

You froze, a sharp yelp escaping your throat as terror spiked through the haze of lust. Your pussy clenched hard around Suguru’s cock in reflexive fear, eyes darting wildly toward the disturbance, heart pounding against your ribs. 

“Wh– What was—oh god, Suguru, he—”

Suguru’s response was immediate, soothing, his thrusts slowing to a gentle rock that kept his cock nestled deep inside your fluttering pussy.

“Shh, shh, my love,” he cooed, lips pressing soft kisses to your temple, his grip on your hip turning tender, thumb stroking soothing circles. 

“It’s nothing. Just a little lesson for the unworthy. Focus on me, yeah?” His voice was a warm murmur, wrapping around your panic like silk, drawing your attention back to the heat of him buried in your core. 

The light chokehold eased, his fingers tracing your jaw instead, tilting your face so you could meet his dark, reassuring gaze over your shoulder.

Your fear ebbed as he resumed his rhythm, slower now, but no less deep, each slide of his thick shaft dragging against your oversensitive walls and reigniting the fire. 

“You’re safe with me.” He whispered, nipping at your earlobe. “No one touches what’s mine. Now, be my good girl and let me take care of you.”

His hand slipped from your jaw back to your throat when your knees buckled once more and threatened to give out, while the one on your hip pulled you flush against him, his chest to your back like a shield.

You melted into him, the spook fading under the onslaught of sensation. 

“Okay... f– fuck, Suguru, don’t stop… nha!" The words slurred out again, moans bubbling up as he picked up speed, his cock plunging in and out with lewd, slick sounds that echoed off the walls. 

Your pussy, still clenching from your first climax, adjusted to him greedily, inner muscles hugging every inch of his veined length, the way his girth stretched you to the brink of pain and pleasure.

Suguru’s praises flowed like honey, each one designed to elevate you, to remind everyone listening of your exalted status. 

“So sensitive ’nd perfect… your pussy’s weeping for more, isn’t it? Gripping me like—shit!—a vice, milking my cock as if it needs my cum to survive.”

His need to breed you simmered beneath the words, voice dropping to a husky growl. “And it does. No one else gets this honor. No one but me gets to see you– mmf– bloom with my child.”

The idea sent a fresh gush of wetness flooding around him, your walls fluttering wildly. You were close again, so close, the pressure building unbearably as his cock stretched you, the veins pulsing against your sensitive nerves. 

“Haah, ’m close!” You whined, eyes rolling into the back of your skull.

"Cum for me, then," He commanded smugly, his hand slipping from your throat to pinch and roll your nipple, the dual sensations tipping you over. 

“It’s g-gonna... ah! I’m—f-fuck, again!" You could barely form the words, your voice a stuttered mess, cut off by the high-pitched keen as your climax tore through you. 

This one was deeper, more intense, your pussy spasming wildly around him, gushing fresh slick that trickled down your legs. The walls of your cunt milked him desperately, fluttering and contracting in rhythmic pulls that had him cursing under his breath. 

Your body arched in his hold, the light chokehold keeping you grounded as ecstasy blurred your vision, toes curling so hard they ached.

As your vision cleared, hazy and blissed-out, you felt the fullness of him still inside, his cock twitching with restraint. Your shyness crept back in waves, cheeks burning at the thought of your exposure, but Suguru’s worshipful touch kept it at bay. 

He turned your head gently, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, tongue delving to taste your moans, his hand returning to your hip to guide you back into motion.

“One more for me?” He asked against your mouth, though it was less a question and more a promise, his smooth demeanor unbroken even as sweat beaded on his brow. 

You nodded weakly, words failing you entirely now, reduced to whimpers as he resumed his pace: faster this time, chasing his own peak while building yours anew. The swell in your belly reformed with each plunge, a visible reminder of his dominance, and he pressed down on it again, murmuring praises. 

“Y’feel so good, pretty… ’m so deep it might take.” He purred.

You stuttered nonsense – “M– More, please, Suguru—c-can’t think—” – cut off by gasps as he angled to grind against your clit, the friction igniting fresh fire.

“You don’t need to think, sweetheart,” he soothed, nipping at your shoulder. “Just let me take care of you, okay? I’ll fill you up nicely.” 

His boasts rang out clearer, a deliberate taunt to the bowed masses, emphasizing your exclusivity.

You nodded shakily, "Y-Yeah... fuck me..." And he did, resuming with care, building you up slowly. 

The third orgasm crept up insidious, your sensitivity making every drag of his cock electric. 

Praises followed: “Such a g-good girl, taking it after that. Gonna– oh, fuck– gonna pump you full, watch your belly swell with my seed.”

When you came again, it was with a wail, body convulsing, pussy flooding him. 

He followed seconds later, cum erupting in thick spurts, filling you until it leaked out, warm and sticky. "Take every drop– shit, pretty girl. You’re mine, all mine."

He held you after, whispering affections, the cult forgotten in your shared bliss.

And by the time he carried you away, you couldn’t bring yourself to care for the screams of terror that echoed through the hall behind you. After all, no one but Suguru was able to see and hear you, and live to tell the tale. 

a/n: okay im on fire people. next up is plug choso drabble.

divider by @/uzmacchiato!

art by @/chuucho95 on x!

[kneelforgeto]

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH I CANT WAIT TO REREAD IT AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN!!!

ITS SO GROTESQUELY GRAPHIC AND I JUST YES SUGURU ANYTHING FOR YOU!

[lemxnns]

HIS TETHERED PREY.

── synopsis .✦ after being seperated from your herd during a violent storm, you find yourself on the outskirts of hunter!sukuna's territory. getting caught in one of his bear traps results in his hesitant rescue, promptly followed by a reluctant stay at his cabin in the middle of the forest. however, with heat season around the corner, you can't help but thirst over the pink-haired, hunk of a man!

── contains .✦ female reader, hunter!sukuna, deer hybrid!reader, virgin!reader, graphic descriptions of injury, awkwardness, eventual smut, heat cycles, hurt/comfort, hunter x prey, p in v, praise kink, antler pulling (reader is a caribou), breeding kink, fingering, loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, creampies, mating press, missionary, doggystyle, teasing, mdni!

── word count .✦ 5.9k!

The forest whispered secrets through the canopy of ancient pines, their needles rustling like distant murmurs in the cool autumn breeze. 

You had been wandering for days, maybe weeks – time blurred in the endless green haze. Your herd, the tight-knit group of caribou hybrids you’d grown up with, had scattered during a sudden storm. 

Panic had driven them one way while fear rooted you in place, and now you were alone. Your doe ears twitched at every snap of a twig, your tail flicking nervously against your back. 

The world felt too vast, too silent without the familiar scents and sounds of your kin.

Your bare feet padded softly over the mossy ground, the chill seeping into your skin despite the layers of scavenged clothes: a threadbare sweater and pants that hung loose on your slender frame. 

Hunger gnawed at your stomach, but worse was the isolation, a hollow ache that made your steps falter. You pushed on, ears perking at the faint trickle of a stream ahead. Water. Relief.

But as you stepped forward, agony exploded in your right leg. 

Metal jaws clamped down with brutal force, yanking you off balance. You crumpled to the forest floor with a sharp cry, the bear trap’s teeth biting deep into your calf. Pain radiated like fire, hot and unrelenting, as blood welled up, soaking your pant leg. 

Your tail thrashed in panic, ears flattening against your skull. You clawed at the dirt, trying to pull free, but the trap held fast, chains rattling against a buried stake. 

Tears blurred your vision, sobs escaping in ragged bursts: trapped; alone. The forest seemed to close in, indifferent to your plight.

Hours passed – or was it minutes? The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows that danced mockingly around you. 

Your leg throbbed, the bleeding slowing to a sticky ooze, but weakness crept in, sapping your strength. You tugged weakly at the trap again, whimpering as fresh pain lanced through you. 

That’s when you heard it: heavy footsteps, deliberate and unhurried, crunching through the underbrush.

He emerged from the trees like a shadow given form: Ryomen Sukuna, though you didn’t know his name yet. 

Broad-shouldered and towering, his frame filled the space between the trunks. His pink hair caught the fading light, spiked and wild, and his face bore tattoos that twisted across his skin. 

Crimson eyes scanned the area with predatory sharpness. He wore simple clothes: a black shirt stretched taut over his muscled chest, pants tucked into boots caked with mud. 

A hunter, you realized with a jolt, the rifle slung over his shoulder confirming it. 

His gaze locked onto you, and for a moment, the world stilled. Those eyes narrowed, assessing. You froze, ears pinning back, tail curling tight against your body. 

He was enormous, intimidating, his presence radiating a quiet menace that made your heart hammer. He stepped closer, boots thudding softly, and you shrank back, the trap’s chain jerking your leg painfully.

“What the hell…” He grumbled, voice low and gravelly, more to himself than you. 

Crouching a safe distance away, he placed his elbows on his knees, studying the trap. His eyes flicked to your face, then to your ears and tail, noting the hybrid traits without surprise. The forest was full of strays like you.

You whimpered, trying to scoot away, but the pain shot up your leg, forcing a gasp from your lips. Blood trickled anew, staining the leaves beneath you. 

“P-Please,” you whispered, voice trembling, “help…?”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened. He reached out slowly, gloved hands – rough from years of handling traps and rifles – testing the mechanism. 

The trap was one of his, set for bears that wandered too close to his territory. He hadn’t expected this. 

With a grunt, he pried the jaws open, the metal groaning in protest. You yanked your leg free the instant it gave, scrambling back on hands and knees, ignoring the fire in your muscles.

Freedom hit like a rush, but it was short-lived. 

Your injured leg buckled immediately, sending you sprawling. Blood smeared across the dirt as you tried to stand, leaning on a tree for support. 

Panic surged: you had to run. He was too big, too dangerous. Hunters like him didn’t take kindly to intruders, hybrid or not. Your ears flicked wildly, catching his steady breathing behind you.

You bolted – or tried to. The first step was agony, your calf screaming as you limped forward, tail streaming behind like a flag of distress. 

You made it ten paces, maybe fifteen, before your vision swam and your knee gave out. You collapsed against a fallen log, clutching your leg, sobs wracking your body. The forest spun, the pain too much, the blood loss making your head light.

Footsteps again, closer this time. Sukuna stood over you, arms crossed, his shadow engulfing you. He debated it then –  you could see it in the furrow of his brow, the way his eyes traced your trembling form. 

Leave her, a voice in his head probably said. She’s not your problem. The woods were cruel; strays didn’t last long. 

But something held him – maybe the way your ears drooped in defeat, or the blood pooling beneath you. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head. 

“Idiot,” he grunted, though whether to you or himself, you couldn’t tell.

Before you could protest, strong arms scooped you up, one under your knees, the other around your back. 

You stiffened, ears flattening, a startled yelp escaping as he lifted you effortlessly. His body was warm, solid, the scent of pine and earth clinging to him. 

“Don’t squirm.” He commanded flatly, voice devoid of warmth but not cruelty. “You’ll bleed out faster.”

You went limp in his hold, too weak to fight, your tail brushing against his arm. 

The walk to his cabin was a blur of jostling motion and throbbing pain, the forest fading into twilight. His log cabin loomed ahead, sturdy and isolated, smoke curling from the chimney. He kicked the door open with his boot and carried you inside, the warmth of a fire greeting you like an embrace.

The interior was sparse: wooden walls lined with shelves of jars and tools, a stone hearth crackling with flames, a worn couch and table. 

He set you down on the couch gently – surprisingly so for his size – propping your leg on a stool. You watched him warily, ears twitching, as he fetched a first-aid kit from a cabinet. His movements were efficient, no wasted energy.

He knelt before you, gloved hands peeling back your torn pant leg to expose the wound. It was ugly: deep punctures, torn flesh, but not broken bone. 

You winced as he cleaned it with antiseptic, the sting making tears well up. He worked in silence, his focus intense, those four eyes flicking between the injury and your face to gauge your pain.

“Hurts.” You whimpered, more to fill the quiet than anything.

“Yeah, no shit.” He replied curtly, wrapping the bandage tight. No more words. 

He stood, towering over you again, and pointed to a door. “Bedroom’s that way. Rest.” 

You nodded, hobbling to the small room with its simple bed and quilt. Exhaustion claimed you instantly, the pain a dull roar as sleep pulled you under.

The first week blurred into a rhythm of silence and necessity. Your leg healed slowly, the wound scabbing over under Sukuna’s reluctant care. 

He changed the bandages daily, his large hands surprisingly deft, but he never lingered. Meals appeared on the table: stew from rabbit or vegetables he’d grown in his garden, bread baked in his oven. You’d eat while he sat across, staring into the fire or sharpening a knife, the scrape of metal the only sound.

Awkwardness hung thick in the air. You’d catch him watching you sometimes, those crimson eyes giving him an unnerving depth, like he saw more than you wanted. Your ears would perk at his approach, tail flicking nervously, and you’d avert your gaze, focusing on the window where the woods pressed close.

One evening, as rain pattered against the roof, you sat by the fire, leg propped up, sketching idly on a scrap of paper he’d left out: simple lines of trees and your lost herd. 

Ryomen entered from outside, shaking water from his hair, his shirt clinging damply to his broad chest. He glanced at your drawing, pausing.

“You draw.” He noted, not a question.

You nodded, ears twitching. "A little, but I’m not any good. Helps... pass time."

He grunted, hanging his coat. "That yer herd?"

“Yeah… I lost them.” You whispered, tail drooping against your back.

Silence again. He poked at the fire, sparks flying. “Woods eat loners.”

You swallowed, the words hitting too close. “I know.”

He didn’t press, just ladled stew into bowls and handed you one. You ate in quiet companionship, the rain a soothing backdrop. His presence was a wall – impenetrable, but not hostile. 

Subtly, you noticed things: the way his shoulders relaxed slightly when you didn’t flinch at his nearness, how he’d leave extra blankets when nights grew cold.

By the second week, you could hobble around the cabin unaided, testing your leg on short walks to the door. 

The forest called to you, but fear kept you inside: fear of the wild, and oddly, of leaving this strange sanctuary.

Sukuna watched from afar, his debates internal now. Why keep her? But he did, fetching herbs from the woods to brew tea for your lingering ache.

One afternoon, sunlight filtering through the windows, you found him outside chopping wood. 

The axe rose and fell with rhythmic power, muscles flexing under his shirt, sweat glistening on his tattooed skin. You lingered in the doorway, ears perked, mesmerized by the controlled strength.

He noticed, pausing mid-swing. “Leg better?”

“Yeah,” you admitted softly, stepping out gingerly. The air was crisp, pine-scented. “Thanks... for everything.”

He wiped his brow, eyes meeting yours. “Don’t mention it.”

You smiled faintly, tail swishing. “What’s it like? Living here alone.”

A shrug. “Quiet. Suits me.” He resumed chopping, but slower, as if inviting the conversation. “You? Herd’s loud, right?”

"Comforting," you admitted, leaning against the porch rail. “But yeah, noisy. Miss it sometimes.”

He nodded once, axe embedding in the block. The silence returned, comfortable now, laced with unspoken understanding. You stayed there, watching him work, the slow thaw between you beginning to crack the ice.

Days stretched into the third week. Your leg strengthened, scabs slowly fading to pink lines. 

Interactions grew in tiny increments: a shared glance over breakfast, where he’d push the salt your way without asking; evenings by the fire, where you’d read an old book from his shelf while he whittled wood into shapes: abstract, fierce things that mirrored his character.

One night, thunder rumbled outside, echoing your long-ago storm. You woke sweating, ears flat, tail tucked, the dream of separation vivid. A creak in the hall: Sukuna, checking on you as he sometimes did silently.

“Bad dream?” He said from the doorway, voice rough with sleep.

You sat up, nodding. “Something like that. Just– got reminded of the herd again is all.”

He hesitated, then entered, sitting on the edge of the bed. His weight dipped the mattress, but he kept space between you. “You’re not alone now.”

The words hung, simple but weighted. Your ears lifted slightly, fluffy tail twitching. “I know.”

He stayed until your breathing evened, his presence a quiet anchor. No more words, but the gesture spoke volumes.

As the weeks waned, the awkwardness softened into something tentative, unspoken. 

You’d help with small tasks: stirring pots while he hunted, your tail brushing his leg accidentally, sending a jolt through both of you. He’d grunt apologies, but his eyes lingered longer, tracing the curve of your ears, the sway of your hips as you moved.

One crisp morning, you stood at the window, gazing at the woods. Freedom beckoned, but so did the man behind you, his footsteps approaching.

“Thinking of leaving?” he asked, voice low.

You turned, meeting his gaze. "Maybe. But... not yet."

A rare smirk tugged at his lips, tattoos shifting. "Good."

The crisp mornings gave way to warmer days, the forest awakening with a subtle shift in the air. Leaves unfurled brighter greens, and the underbrush hummed with the stirrings of life. 

You felt it too – a restlessness deep in your core, a warmth that bloomed unbidden as heat season edged closer. Your body, attuned to the rhythms of nature like the rest of your kind, began to respond. 

It started faintly: a flush creeping up your neck when you caught sight of Sukuna across the room, your doe ears twitching more frequently, your tail flicking in short, agitated bursts. 

You shifted in your seat during meals, crossing and uncrossing your legs, the wooden chair creaking under the subtle movements.

Sukuna noticed, though he gave no sign of it at first. 

As a human, his senses weren’t sharpened like yours, but the cabin was small, the air thick with shared space. Your scent – earthy and sweet, like wildflowers crushed underfoot – grew stronger each day, weaving through the smells of woodsmoke and stewed meat.

It lingered on the blankets you’d borrowed, clung to the air when you passed him in the narrow hallway. He caught it one evening while sharpening his knife by the fire, the blade gliding smoothly over the whetstone. 

You sat nearby, mending a tear in your sweater, your fingers fumbling slightly as another wave of heat flushed your cheeks.

He paused, the scrape of metal halting for a beat longer than usual. His eyes flicked toward you, then away, jaw clenching subtly. 

The scent hit him fuller now, stirring something primal he shoved down deep. He resumed sharpening, the rhythm faster, more deliberate, as if to drown out the distraction. 

“Pass the salt.” He began gruffly when you both reached for the bowl at dinner, his hand brushing yours briefly. 

The contact sent a spark through you, making your tail curl tight against your thigh. You pulled back quickly, ears flattening, a soft pink tinting your skin.

“Sorry.” You squeaked, voice barely audible above the crackle of the fire. 

You shifted again, tucking your legs beneath you on the couch, the movement drawing his gaze for a split second before he looked back to his plate. He grunted in response, forking into his venison without another word. 

The silence stretched, heavier now, laced with an undercurrent neither of you acknowledged. 

You could feel his awareness, the way his broad shoulders tensed when you stood to clear the table, your hips swaying just a fraction more than necessary as the warmth pooled low in your belly.

Nights grew warmer, the quilt too heavy some evenings. You tossed in the small bedroom, ears perked to the sounds of the cabin settling – the creak of floorboards as Sukuna moved about, the distant hoot of an owl outside. 

Your scent intensified with the rising temperature, seeping under the door like an invitation you hadn’t meant to send. He lay in his own room, staring at the rafters, the air thick with it. 

Human or not, it affected him: a tightening in his chest, a heat of his own that he ignored by focusing on the hunt planned for dawn. 

He rolled over, groaning into the pillow, willing sleep to come.

By midweek, the signs were impossible to miss. 

You found yourself lingering near him more, drawn by an instinct you couldn’t name. 

While he chopped wood outside, you watched from the porch, your flush deepening as sweat traced lines down his tattooed arms, his shirt clinging to the broad expanse of his back. 

Your tail swished restlessly, and you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the ache in your leg long forgotten but replaced by this new, insistent pull. 

He glanced up once, axe pausing mid-air, his nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. The scent wrapped around him, sweet and insistent, making his grip tighten on the handle.

“Need something?” He asked, voice rougher than usual, eyes locking onto yours – all four piercing, unreadable.

You shook your head, ears drooping slightly as you stepped back inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Heart pounding, you pressed a hand to your warm cheek, wondering if he could hear the rapid beat from outside. 

He swung the axe harder after that, embedding it deep into the block with each strike, the physical exertion a barrier against the growing tension.

Afternoons brought small tasks that amplified the awkwardness. 

You helped sort herbs he’d gathered – drying them on racks by the window – your fingers brushing his as you passed bundles. 

Each time, you flushed, shifting away with a quiet apology, your tail flicking against his leg once by accident. He froze for a heartbeat, the contact electric, your scent blooming sharper in the confined space. 

“Watch it.” He warned, not harshly, but stepping back to give you room. His movements grew more deliberate, putting distance between you under the guise of efficiency.

Yet he didn’t send you away. Meals remained shared, silences filled with the subtle dance of avoidance. 

One evening, as twilight painted the cabin in soft oranges, you sat by the fire, knees drawn up, trying to read but finding the words blurring. The heat simmered under your skin, making you shift restlessly, the couch cushions sighing under you. 

Sukuna entered from the porch, carrying a pail of water, his frame filling the doorway. Water dripped from his hands, and he set the pail down with a thud, the sound echoing your quickened breath.

He caught the scent again, stronger now, mingling with the damp earth on his clothes. It pulled at him, testing his resolve, but he crossed to the kitchen, back turned, pouring the water into a pot with unnecessary focus. 

You watched his shoulders, the way they rose and fell with controlled breaths, and felt your own flush spread, ears twitching forward. It was obvious, you knew – your shifting, the way your eyes lingered – but so was his effort to remain unaffected, the subtle clench of his fists at his sides.

“Cold out there?” You questioned softly, breaking the quiet, your voice laced with the warmth you couldn’t hide.

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly. “Not really.” A pause, then he added, “you warm enough?”

The question hung, double-edged, and you nodded too quickly, tail curling around your ankle. “Yeah. Fine.”

He turned back to the stove, stirring whatever simmered there, the spoon clinking rhythmically. Neither pushed further, the tension coiling tighter in the unspoken space between you. 

Heat season loomed, promising more, but for now, it simmered in glances and silences, building like the fire before you.

The days blurred into a pattern of restraint. You’d catch yourself staring when he whittled by the window, the knife carving precise lines into the wood, his large hands steady despite the undercurrent. 

Your scent filled the cabin more each morning, greeting him upon waking, and he’d open the windows wider, letting the breeze carry it away – or so he told himself. 

But it followed him into the woods during hunts, a ghost that made his steps heavier, his focus sharper on the prey to distract from the pull back home.

One afternoon, rain returned, soft and steady, drumming on the roof. You paced the living room subtly, unable to sit still, the flush permanent now on your skin. 

Sukuna returned soaked, shaking off his coat in the entryway, water pooling at his boots. The fresh rain mixed with your scent, creating something headier, and he paused, inhaling deeply before schooling his expression.

“Wet out.” He pointed out flatly, hanging the coat and avoiding your eyes as he toed off his boots.

You nodded, shifting from foot to foot near the fire. “Smells like it.”

Your ears perked at his approach, tail swishing once before you stilled it. He moved to the hearth, adding logs with efficient motions, his arm brushing close enough that you felt the heat radiating from him. 

A shiver ran through you, not from cold, and you stepped aside, cheeks burning.

He didn’t comment, just stoked the flames higher, the warmth chasing the chill but amplifying your own. Dinner passed in near-silence, forks scraping plates, your leg bouncing under the table until you caught his glance and forced it still. 

Obvious wants hung in the air: yours in the flush and fidgets, his in the way he lingered at the table after, eyes tracing the fire instead of you.

As night fell, the rain a lullaby, you retreated to your room, the door a flimsy barrier. Your scent permeated everything now, a silent confession. 

Sukuna sat up later, alone by the dying embers, rubbing a hand over his face. Unaffected? Hardly. But he wouldn’t act – not yet. 

Heat season arrived without mercy, your body igniting from the inside out. 

You didn’t fully understand it – clueless to the full implications, your deer instincts overriding any sense of propriety. The cabin felt smaller, the air thicker, and every brush of fabric against your skin sent sparks racing through you. 

You paced the living room in nothing but one of Sukuna’s oversized shirts, the hem skimming your thighs, your scut wagging erratically behind you. Your ears flicked at every sound, and a persistent ache throbbed between your legs, making you shift your hips without thinking.

Sukuna watched from the kitchen, his eyes narrowing as you bent over to pick up a fallen book, the shirt riding up to expose the curve of your ass. Your scent flooded the space, heady and intoxicating, pulling at him like a tether. 

You straightened, oblivious, and stretched your arms overhead, the motion arching your back and pressing your breasts against the thin fabric. Nipples hardened visibly, and you let out a soft, unwitting whimper, rubbing your thighs together as you moved to the couch. 

He gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening, forcing his gaze away. 

“Gonna cut wood.” He decided, voice gravelly, grabbing his axe and stalking out the door before the temptation grew any stronger.

Alone, the heat clawed deeper. You tried to distract yourself, but your body betrayed you: fingers trailing absently over your collarbone, down to the hem of the shirt, lifting it slightly as you sat on the floor by the fire. Legs parted just enough to ease the pressure, you rocked subtly, a flush painting your cheeks rosy. 

It wasn’t deliberate; you just needed relief from the fire building inside. When that failed, you wandered, drawn to his room by the familiar scent of him on the sheets. 

Climbing onto his bed, you buried your face in his pillow, inhaling deeply. The ache intensified, and before you knew it, your hips ground down against the soft mound of fabric, a desperate friction that made your tail flag up.

Tears pricked your eyes as the motion brought fleeting sparks of pleasure, but it wasn’t enough. You humped the pillow pathetically, soft sobs escaping as your body wept for more. Clueless to how vulnerable you looked – shirt hiked up, ass in the air, ears flattened in frustration – you kept moving, chasing the elusive release.

Outside, the axe bit into wood with rhythmic thuds, each swing a release for Sukuna’s pent-up tension. Sweat beaded on his brow, his muscles flexing under inked skin, but your scent clung to him even here, a ghost in the breeze. 

He worked longer than needed, trying to outrun the pull, but eventually, the pile of logs satisfied him enough to head back. The cabin door creaked open to silence: no soft footsteps, no shifting on the couch. 

“Sweetheart? Where are you?” He called, voice echoing off the walls. No answer. Frowning, he checked the kitchen, the porch, then pushed open his bedroom door.

There you were, on his bed, hips rolling against the pillow in desperate, uneven thrusts. Tears streaked your face, your doe ears trembling, tail flicking in distress. 

The sight hit him like a punch – your flushed skin, the way your pussy glistened with arousal, lips parted on quiet mewls. His cock twitched hard in his pants, blood rushing south as he stood frozen in the doorway.

“Kuna… mmh!” Your voice came out small, broken, as you lifted your head, eyes glassy with need. You didn’t stop moving, hips grinding down instinctively, but shame flickered in your gaze. “Help... please? It h– hurts…”

He crossed the room in two strides, the door clicking shut behind him. Towering over you, his broad frame cast a shadow, vermillion eyes dark with hunger. 

“Fuck, angel…” He growled low, sitting on the bed’s edge and pulling you up by your arms. 

You whimpered at the manhandling, body pliant in his grip. “W-Wait—”

“I’ve been holding back for weeks. Watching you tease without even knowing it, and that damn scent everywhere…”

His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing away tears, and he kissed you then: gentle at first, lips soft against yours, tongue coaxing your mouth open. You melted into it, mewling softly, your hands clutching his shirt as the ache pulsed hotter. 

He broke away, breathing ragged. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart. But tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded frantically, pleading with your eyes, and he eased you back onto the bed, stripping the shirt from your body. Naked now, you shivered under his gaze, but the heat made you bold – legs parting slightly, inviting him without words. 

He shed his clothes quickly, his thick cock springing free, veined and heavy, tip already leaking. Your eyes widened, clueless innocence mixing with raw want, and you reached for him tentatively.

“Gentle, pretty thing.” He murmured, praise lacing his voice as he settled between your thighs. 

His large frame loomed over you, the warmth of his body contrasting the cool sheets beneath. One hand stroked your hair, fingers tangling gently in the soft strands near your deer-like ears, which twitched at the touch. 

You felt exposed, your hybrid tail flicking nervously against the mattress, but his presence grounded you, making your core ache with need.

He didn’t rush to claim you fully. Instead, his free hand trailed down your side, tracing the curve of your hip, then dipping lower to your inner thigh. 

“So ready f’me, aren’t you?.” Sukuna said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through your spine. 

His fingers brushed against your slick folds, and you gasped, hips bucking instinctively toward the contact. “Mmf!” He chuckled softly, the sound dark and approving. “Easy, pretty. Don’t wanna hurt you yet..”

His thumb parted your pussy lips gently, exposing your clit to the air, and you whimpered, your antlers scraping lightly against the pillow as you tilted your head back. He watched your reactions closely, his crimson eyes intense, drinking in every quiver and soft sound you made.

“Tell me what you want.” He commanded, his tone firm but laced with that teasing edge that made your heart race.

“T-Touch me... please.” You breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. 

Your hands clutched at the sheets, nails digging in as his finger circled your entrance, gathering your wetness. He pressed one thick digit inside slowly, the intrusion stretching you just enough to make you moan. 

It was nothing like his cock, but the sensation was electric, your walls clenching around him immediately.

“Like that?” Sukuna asked, his lips curving into a smirk as he crooked his finger, brushing against that sensitive spot inside you. 

You nodded, a whine escaping your throat, your tail thrashing side to side. He added a second finger, scissoring them carefully to open you up, his movements deliberate and unhurried. 

The stretch burned faintly, but it melted into pleasure as he began to pump them in and out, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles over it.

Your breath hitched, legs spreading wider to give him better access. “S-Sukuna... it feels... ah!” 

The words dissolved into a cry as he increased the pace, his fingers thrusting deeper, curling with each withdrawal to hit that bundle of nerves again and again. Wet sounds filled the room, obscene and intoxicating, your arousal coating his hand. 

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, nipping at the soft fur there. “You’re soaking my fingers, pretty girl. So tight and perfect for me.”

You arched into his touch, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath. His other hand left your side to cup one, thumb flicking over your nipple, pinching just hard enough to make you yelp. 

The double sensations overwhelmed you: his fingers fucking into your pussy, stretching and filling you, while his mouth descended to your neck, sucking a mark into the sensitive skin where your pulse fluttered wildly. 

“More... gimme– gimme more,” you begged, your voice breaking, hips grinding against his hand shamelessly.

He obliged, adding a third finger, the fullness making your eyes roll back. 

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He growled approvingly, his fingers pistoning faster now, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit with every thrust. 

You could feel the pressure building, a coil tightening low in your belly, your deer ears flattening against your head as pleasure bordered on too much. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, not from pain but from the intensity, your body trembling under him.

“P-Please..!” You

“That’s it, let go for me.” Sukuna urged, his voice husky as he watched your face contort in ecstasy. 

He twisted his fingers inside you, rubbing relentlessly against your g-spot, while his thumb pressed harder on your swollen clit. The combination shattered you – your walls clamped down on his fingers, pulsing as the orgasm crashed over you like a wave.

“Mmh– Ryo!” You cried out, body convulsing, thighs quaking around his wrist as slick gushed over his hand, soaking the sheets beneath.

He didn’t stop immediately, drawing out your release with slow, gentle strokes until you whimpered from oversensitivity, your tail curling around his arm in a weak attempt to pull him closer. 

“Good girl,” he praised, withdrawing his fingers with a wet pop, bringing them to his lips to taste you. His eyes locked on yours, dark with promise.

He flipped you suddenly, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with effortless strength, your body pliant under his touch. You scrambled to steady yourself on the mattress, palms sinking into the soft fabric, knees spreading wider as your tail lifted instinctively, baring yourself completely to him. 

The cool air kissed your dripping folds, a brief respite before he positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock teasing your entrance. 

“You want it rough, pretty thing? Begging like that.” His voice was a gravelly command, laced with amusement and hunger.

Before you could respond, his hand came down on your ass – a light slap that stung just enough to make you yelp, the impact sending a ripple through your flesh. Heat bloomed across your skin, mingling with the ache between your legs. 

Then he thrust back in from behind, the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper, his cock spearing into you with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs. 

“Oh! Kuna… so– so big!” You sobbed in pleasure, the stretch more intense now, every inch of him pressing against your sensitive spots as he bottomed out.

Your arms trembled, threatening to give out as you pushed back against him, desperate to feel him everywhere. The slap had left your ass tingling, a warm contrast to the cool sheets, and you arched your back further, presenting yourself like the submissive hybrid you were. 

Ears flattening completely, you let out a string of moans, each one higher pitched as the pressure built anew. His hand moved to your antlers, tugging them firmly to guide your head up, forcing you to arch more, your neck straining in the best way.

“Hah, fuck, crying for my cock, hm? Such a good girl, taking it all.” Sukuna’s praise washed over you like liquid fire, igniting your emotions – pride in pleasing him, a deep-seated need to submit, to be his. 

He kept the pull steady, not painful but insistent, making you feel owned as he rutted into you. Each thrust was deliberate, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, the drag of his veined length against your walls making obscene squelching noises. 

Your pussy fluttered around him, juices coating his shaft and dripping down your thighs, the physical sensations overwhelming: the burn in your muscles from holding the position, the slap of his hips against your reddened ass, the way his cock throbbed inside you, hot and unyielding.

You rocked back to meet him, your tail brushing loosely against his thigh in an instinctive gesture of affection amid the roughness. The orgasm you’d felt building earlier surged closer now, coiling tight in your core, your clit throbbing untouched but stimulated by the indirect pressure of his invasions.

Sukuna’s breaths grew ragged, his hand on your hip sliding forward to press against your lower belly, feeling the bulge of his own cock moving inside you. 

“Shit, you’re tight... milking me so good.” He muttered, his voice strained with his own rising pleasure. He released your hair momentarily to deliver another light slap to your other cheek, the sound sharp in the room, making you clench harder around him. 

The duplicity – pain and pleasure – pushed you closer, your sobs turning into keening cries as the tension wound unbearably tight.

He tugged your antlers again, gentler this time, but enough to keep your gaze forward. His thrusts lost a bit of their rhythm, becoming erratic as he chased his release, but he didn’t let up on the depth, each one punching the air from your lungs. 

You felt him everywhere: the heat of his body over yours, the possessive hold, the way his cock pulsed with impending climax. 

Emotionally, it was intoxicating; you were his, completely, and the thought alone made your walls spasm.

“Gonna fill you up, angel. Pump you full until you’re bred, carrying my scent forever.” 

The words made you whine, clenching harder, and you came again: shaking, tears streaming as waves crashed over you. “Ah! I’m gonna– cumming!”

He chuckled, voice strained. “Fuck, listen to you. So desperate for my cum. Nghh– an’ you’re shy now? After slutting out on my—haah—bed?”

You hid your face in the pillow, flushing deeper, but your hips ground back, asking for more without words. He pulled out briefly, flipping you onto your back once more, hooking your legs over his shoulders. 

The position folded you, letting him drive in deep, balls slapping against your ass with each rough pound. His eyes – the prettiest, deepest red – locked on yours, wild and possessive. “Don’t hide, sweetheart. Want you looking at me when you cum again.”

Pleasure dumbed your mind, thoughts scattering into nothing but him – his cock stretching you, his grunts, the pull on your hair as he leaned down to capture your lips. 

You came a third time, crying out his name, body convulsing as he chased his own release. 

“That’s my girl.” He praised, thrusting erratically. “Milk me dry, pretty thing. Gonna breed this pussy.”

With a final, deep shove, he buried himself and came – hot spurts flooding you, his groan rumbling through his chest. You felt every pulse, the warmth spreading, and it triggered one last, shuddering orgasm from you, tears of pure bliss soaking the sheets. 

He collapsed gently atop you, still inside, peppering your face with soft kisses. “Good job, angel. Took me so well.”

You panted, cockdrunk haze settling, shying into his neck with a whimper. 

He chuckled tiredly, stroking your back. “Heat’s not over yet, sweetheart.”

a/n: I COOKED I COOKED SO HARD

dividers by @/uzmacchiato!

art by @/ada_bingbong on x!

[kneelforgeto]

SO FUCKING HOT I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH

I'm assuming they're not even together yet "sweetheart" ARRGHHHYYHJDD YES THIS IS TOO GOOD WHAT THE HELL

[lemxnns]

⋆.𐙚 ̊ ̊ satoru gojo doesn't ever shut up! - mdni!

Your body trembled beneath Satoru, slick with sweat and the remnants of your shared releases, the sheets a tangled mess around your legs. 

You’d lost count after the third time he’d pushed you over the edge, his cock buried deep inside your pulsing pussy each time, filling you with hot spurts of cum that still leaked out now, mixing with your own juices. 

The room smelled of sex – musky, intoxicating – and the air was thick with your ragged breaths. But Satoru? He was still going strong, his hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm that made your walls clench around his thick length, even as he rambled on like this was just another casual conversation.

“You know, I was thinking earlier about that new mochi place downtown.” He began, his voice light and teasing, white hair falling into his blindfolded eyes as he thrust deeper, the head of his cock dragging against that sensitive spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids. 

His girth stretched you wide, your pussy lips swollen and puffy from the hours of friction, gripping him like a vice every time he pulled back. 

“They’ve got this—hngh—matcha flavor that’s supposed to be out of this world. We should go after this ‘nd grab s– some and just wander around. What do you think?”

A whine escaped your lips, high and needy, as his cock plunged back in, bottoming out with a wet slap against your ass. 

Your thighs quivered, spread wide for him, and you could feel every ridge and vein of him sliding through your soaked folds. 

“S– Satoru... ah!” It was all you could manage, your voice breaking into a moan as pleasure coiled tight in your belly again. 

Your clit throbbed, untouched but hypersensitive from the way his pelvis ground against it with each thrust.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “C-Come on, don’t leave me hanging here. Matcha or strawberry? I bet you’d love the strawberry– mmh, sweet, just like you.”

His pace didn’t falter, hips rolling in a way that made his balls slap rhythmically against your skin, heavy and full despite the loads he’d already emptied into you. 

Cum from before squelched out around his shaft, dripping down to your ass, making everything even messier, even hotter.

“Nngh... Satoru, please…” You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders, but words failed you as another wave of sensation crashed over you. 

Your pussy was utterly wrecked: lips engorged, inner walls tender and fluttering, coated in a creamy mix of his seed and your arousal. 

Each thrust pushed more of that mess out, dribbling down your crack to the sheets below, but he didn’t care, and neither could you in this haze.

“You know what else I was thinking?” Satoru continued seamlessly, his voice a playful lilt even as sweat beaded on his brow. His blindfold was askew, but those piercing blue eyes peeked out just enough to lock on yours, full of mischief. 

He shifted his angle slightly, his thick shaft grinding against your front wall, the veiny underside rubbing your g-spot with precision that made your toes curl. 

“We need to plan a vacation. Somewhere tropical—mmn, no curses, just beaches and drinks with little umbrellas. You in a bikini? H– Haah, shit, I’d never leave your side.”

You cried out, a sharp “Nh, fuck!” that dissolved into whimpers, your body shaking as you clung to him.

Your breasts heaved with each breath, nipples hard and aching, brushing against his chest. He didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t stop talking. 

“But seriously, I could use a break if it means I get to see you all dolled up.” He added casually, one hand sliding down to grip your hip, fingers digging in just enough to bruise. 

"Satoru... oh god, I—mmph!" Your reply was cut off by a moan, your head falling back against the pillow as he picked up speed, his cock pistoning in and out of your drenched pussy. 

The sounds were obscene: wet schlicks filling the room, your arousal coating his length, making it glisten every time he pulled out halfway, only to slam back in. 

Your inner walls were raw, sensitive from the multiple orgasms, but the fullness of him, the way he filled every inch of you, kept you teetering on the edge.

He grinned, that playful smirk you could feel even through the blindfold, and nipped at your collarbone. 

“Hm? What, you can’t take anymore? What happened to the s– stubborn girl from earlier?”

His free hand roamed up your side, thumb circling your nipple absentmindedly as he fucked into you harder, the bed creaking under the force.

You whined louder, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, pulling him deeper. “Hah..  shut up, don’t stop…” 

It was fragmented, breathless, your mind hazy with the building pressure. Your pussy clenched again, harder this time, and he let out a low hum of approval, but his words kept flowing.

“Look at’chu.. you’re sweeter than any of that mochi, aren’t you? All flushed ‘nd perfect." His voice dropped an octave on the praise, hand cupping your breast, pinching the nipple lightly. 

But then he was back to rambling. 

“I could go for ramen, extra spicy.” He trailed off, then thrust hard, making you gasp.

“Satoru! Oh god, yes—right there!” You cried out, voice breaking, your body arching off the bed. 

Your pussy was a mess, swollen and dripping, clenching rhythmically around his invading cock. The head dragged along your g-spot with every pull back, sending shocks of pleasure through you.

He hummed thoughtfully. “Although, on second thought, I don’t have the best spice tolerance. Isn’t that right p– pretty girl?” 

“Ahn! Satoru, I’m gonna—nngh!” Your words dissolved into moans, whines spilling from your lips uncontrollably. Your thighs shook, pussy fluttering wildly around him, the pressure building to a fever pitch.

He was so deep, so full, his cock leaking pre-cum inside you, mixing with the cum already there.

Satoru laughed again, but it was strained now, his hips snapping faster, chasing his release. “God, you feel incredible. My good girl, taking every– haah, inch.”

The praise hit you like a spark, and combined with his relentless pounding, you shattered. “Satoru! Fuck—cumming!” 

Your orgasm crashed over you, pussy convulsing in waves, squeezing his cock like it never wanted to let go. Juices gushed out around him, soaking his groin, and you wailed, body seizing up, nails raking down his back.

He groaned, finally faltering in his chatter as your walls milked him. "S– Shit—yeah, just like that. Fuck, you’re pulling me in..." 

But even as he came, hips stuttering, he managed a few more words. “Gonna fill you up again—ngh, so tight!—take it all, baby.” Hot ropes of cum erupted from his cock, painting your insides, flooding your pussy until it overflowed, leaking out in thick streams.

You whimpered through the aftershocks – “Mmm... Satoru... so full…” – as he collapsed half on top of you, still buried deep, his cock twitching with the last spurts.

He panted, nuzzling your neck. “Whew. So, about that mochi... tomorrow?”

But your only response was a soft, exhausted moan, body limp and sated beneath him.

a/n: hi guys.. im alive.. did you miss me

divider by @/uzmacchiato!

[kneelforgeto]

She does NOT gaf about his spice tolerance!!!

I came while reading, your work keeps getting more and more graphic

[takamae]

𝜗ৎ cw: rough sex, light manhandling, mating press, general NSFW content. MDNI. i think i might've gone a little wild this time. but there's also cute bonding time w/ yuji and choso

☆ sometimes, you think CHOSO doesn't realize how strong he is.

you like to believe he's being held back by his love for his family, his gruff but soft-spoken demeanor, and how easy it is for him to be overcome with emotions. that's the thing about him you're most in love with.

he does everything with gentleness until he doesn't.

the sliding door he usually closes with the utmost care? slam! even a little flick of his hand as he pries them open is enough to send a light gust of wind in anyone's direction.

when he hugs you, it feels more like a rib-crusher rather than a cozy embrace from someone who seems so smitten. but you don't complain, because it has its own unique, snug charm.

when he pats yuji (or anyone, for that matter) on the back, it feels like being sent five or so inches forward. and the slap of his palm against is heavy, compact, like it's meant to sting a little.

even the little things like catching a mosquito sounds like he's activating piercing blood, the air around the room crackling a little at the impact of choso's hands clapping together. every time you hear it, you feel the burning in your own palms at the impact.

you fondly remember the rare occasion when you, yuji, and choso had gone out to the park, with the boys playing a more hazardous game of catch while you sat pretty by the picnic blanket. and while you're in the middle of snooping for a snack, you just hear yuji yelp as the ball choso had sent hurtling the younger boy's way had landed square on his chest and actually sent him flying.

sprawling on the grass. knocked out like a ragdoll.

it surprises you. it surprises choso. it surprises anyone who isn't blind.

yup, anything that choso thinks is a light touch but isn't actually, he's following it up with a profuse apology and a few tears from his pathetically brown eyes.

you're not even a casualty, but when he looks at you from his place in the grass, rubbing yuji's front while the younger boy casually laughs it off because of course he can manage force like that, you know he's about to apologize to you as well.

"'msorrymsorrymsorrymsorry—" choso whimpers against your ear, his flushes cheek grazing your calf where he has your legs folded up against your chest in a mean mating press.

he's using his body weight to keep you pressed down onto the mattress, his sweat mixing with yours while his hands, large and veiny, grips at the plush of your ass, very certain to leave marks.

and you can't do anything but take it, babbling in an unrestrained chain as choso's cock, as intimidating as the rest of his body, bullies its way into your already gushing cunt, repeatedly bashin' 'n bashin' against your g-spot like he's trying to prove himself.

"choooo, oh my—hic—can't—ngguhh—don' say sorry to me—ahaaaa—baby—fuck! mnghhh—" choso had half a mind to laugh fondly at the way you're trying to form a coherent sentence amidst his relentless pounding, if he wasn't already so lost himself.

his cock feels so raw, squelching in 'n out against your pussy lips. like every time he even dares to pull out, he just buries himself deeper into you just to hear your screams and whines grow higher & louder.

"cho—oh! baby—hic—y'already said—ahhah!—sorry to y-yuj—AAAH—!"

but choso shakes his head, the now unkempt and (undeniably) adorably messy fall of his hair grazing your damp cheeks. if it we're possible, his grip on your ass tightens even further, blunt nails digging into the flesh.

this time, he really can't help it. at that sudden raise of your voice, choso just falls, groaning loudly and laying on top of you, his hips bouncing against yours like drums, increasing in speed, increasing in intensity.

all his weight, on you. he pries your legs ooopen obscenely, shuddering when his and your nipples rub against each other. your nails feel so delectable against his sturdy back.

"don' talk abou' my baby brother when—hic—you've got my cock bullyin' you, hun—ggghhh—"

at this point, no one would be able to tell where he ends and you begin. your sweat and tears of heightened arousal and overstimulation mix against each other, your moans just blendin' into each other's mouth.

the constant rub of his pubic hair against your poor clit has you screaming, arching up up against choso. all the while, he keeps babbling against your ears, almost inaudible amidst your mewls and his own pathetic whines.

"you wouldn't let—-nghhhh—me treat you like tha', baby, would'ya? nonono, honey, it won't ever happen—-ghhh-hic—nghhh—can't bring m'self to be s'rough on'ya even if i tried—but look a' me right now, baby…oooohhhh, if m'strength t'—t'much f'r you baby, promise y' get to milk me dry."

you're nodding mindlessly, grip clumsily adjusting as choso speeeeeds up, the fastest he can go as he feels you clamp down on him like you don't want to let go. like you're making good on his promise to milk him dry. until he's shooting blanks. until he can't think and he can actually force himself to be gentle.

"i like y'like this, choso…i—i—hng—i like that y'r strong—like it whe-y-you-you prove it 'cus w'both keep-keep-keep!—" you feel yourself reaching your limit, the coil in your stomach about to break as you let out one last unabashed scream against choso's hairline.

"cummingcumming—-" your voices mix together in a symphony as splurts of white n' clear spill against your joined bodies n' the poor sheets below you. normally, choso would've ended there, revert to the gentleness and nurturing nature he naturally slots into.

but—no. he doesn't stop. "mm…c'mere, baby, 'm not done w'you yet!—"

his hands are practically glued to you as he manhandles you onto your stomach, taking practically a millisecond to revel in the cum flowing out from your cunt before he bullies himself back in, groanin' when he sees the fat of your ass ripple.

"w're not stoppin' until i prove it…might get you knocked up, hun. our—hic—baby might get my strength too—now…" his hands now bury into your scalp, ruttin' into you like it's his sole purpose.

the impact from your first round has left your bed frame creaking for mercy, headboard pounding against the wall. your drool coats the pillow below you, round after round, your body bein' handled higher and higher until your ass is up in the sky.

choso's embrace don't lose purchase of your body, hugging you close as he mindlessly lets his balls slap against your clit, rough fingers toying with your bouncing tits. his thighs and the back o' his knees are the only things keepin' you spread open.

and you take it. dumbified and a little more in love with him by the moment.

no, actually. choso definitely knows how strong he is. only times like these.

before you know it, you're spent 'n boneless, and choso…looks after you like he didn't bully your cunt into oblivion, like your stomach doesn't feel slightly bigger after how many rounds.

"sweet love…giggling to yourself?" he manages to rasp out fondly when he caresses your cheeks, dabbing your hairline with a cool, damp towel. you're still somewhere beyond cloud nine, nuzzling mindlessly and a lazy grin on your swollen lips where he kisses you until you pass out.

and even then, he continues. because what more can he reward his love with?

he may not realize it sometimes, but he sure as hell likes to make sure it hits just the same.

──── /•᷅‎‎•᷄\੭ 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗔𝗘 © 2026 ⋮ NO reposting, ai-training, and translating.

[kneelforgeto]

I'm going to cum so hard

[lemxnns]

"ROUGH DAY?"

── synopsis .✦ juggling lectures and a part-time job is no easy feat, and your lazy roommate, ryomen sukuna, isnt making it any easier! in relatiation, you intend to wipe that smirk clean off of his face by putting (or rather, fucking) him in his place!

── contains .✦ light angst, sukuna is a bum, modern!au, p in v, hate sex, riding, teasing, praise kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampies, light scratching, light hair pulling/tugging, mdni!

── word count .✦ 2.4k!

based off of this request!

art by @sebnchosongetosowlett !! (@/jinxiink on instagram!) PLEASE CHECK HER OUT SHES SO COOL!!!!

You’d known Ryomen Sukuna for about six months now, ever since you’d answered that frantic ad for a roommate on a local university bulletin board. 

The apartment was a steal: two bedrooms, a decent kitchen, and close enough to campus that you could walk to your lectures without breaking a sweat. 

Sukuna had seemed like a good fit at first glance: tall, broad-shouldered, with those striking tattoos curling over his skin like ancient markings, and a smirk that suggested he knew more than he let on. He worked odd jobs, or so he claimed, but mostly he lounged around, claiming the freelance life suited him. 

You, on the other hand, were the epitome of structure: a third-year literature major juggling endless readings, group projects, and a part-time gig at the cozy cafe down the block to pay your share of the rent.

The place was a modest two-bedroom in a quiet neighborhood, but Sukuna’s habits quickly turned it into a battlefield of clutter. 

At first, it was small things: his sneakers kicked off haphazardly by the door, forcing you to sidestep them after a long day. Then came the empty takeout containers piling up on the coffee table, the faint smell of stale fried rice lingering in the air. 

You’d remind him politely: “Hey, Sukuna, could you toss those when you’re done?” 

In return, he’d grunt something noncommittal, his red eyes flicking over you with mild amusement before returning to whatever show blared from the TV.

As weeks turned into months, the mess escalated. 

Dirty laundry draped over the couch like forgotten flags, his weights and protein shake bottles cluttering the hallway. The kitchen sink became a graveyard for unwashed dishes, and you found yourself doing double duty just to keep the space livable. 

Your schedule left little room for this; mornings started at dawn with coffee brewing while you reviewed notes, afternoons swallowed by lectures on Victorian novels or postmodern poetry, and evenings behind the cafe counter, steaming lattes and wiping down tables until your feet ached. 

By the time you dragged yourself home, the last thing you needed was to navigate Sukuna’s chaos.

You tried talking to him about it multiple times. 

Once, over a rare shared pizza – your treat, since he’d ‘forgotten’ his wallet – you sat him down at the rickety kitchen table. 

“Sukuna, this isn’t working. The place is a disaster, and I’m picking up all the slack. We need to split chores or something.” 

He leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, that perpetual smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Relax, doll. It’s just stuff. It’ll get done eventually.” His voice was a low rumble, dismissive, like your concerns were a minor inconvenience. 

You pushed, frustration bubbling, but he just shrugged, popping another slice into his mouth. 

“Not my style to play maid.”

Another time, after finding his gym bag leaking sweat onto the bathroom floor, you cornered him in the living room. 

He was sprawled on the couch, feet up on the armrest, scrolling through his phone. 

“Seriously? This has to stop. I’m exhausted, and you’re just... making it worse.” 

He glanced up, eyes narrowing slightly, but the cockiness didn’t fade. “You sound like my mom. Lighten up.” 

You stormed off, slamming your bedroom door, but the next day, nothing changed. If anything, it got worse: a half-eaten bag of chips spilled across the counter, crumbs everywhere.

Your days blurred into a relentless rhythm. Wake at 6 AM, shower quickly to avoid the grime building in the shared bathroom, scarf down toast while cramming for midterms. 

Lectures dragged on; Professor Hale’s monotone on symbolism in Eliot had you fighting yawns by noon. Then the cafe shift: the hiss of the espresso machine, the chatter of students ordering their fixes, the burn in your calves from standing too long. 

Tips were decent, but by 8 PM, when you finally unlocked the apartment door, all you craved was collapse.

Today was no different, but worse. 

The lecture on feminist critiques in Brontë had run overtime, debating themes that hit too close to your own frustrations with unequal loads. 

Then the cafe rush: a group of rowdy undergrads spilling drinks, forcing you to mop up while smiling through gritted teeth. Your uniform clung damply to your skin, hair frizzing from the steam, backpack heavy with books. 

As you pushed open the door, the familiar scent hit you: unwashed dishes, faint body odor, and now, the sharp tang of beer.

Sukuna lounged on the couch like a king on his throne, legs spread wide, a fresh can cracked open on the coffee table amid a fortress of empty ones. 

The TV droned some action flick, explosions lighting his tattooed face in flickering glows. His shirt was rumpled, pants unbuttoned at the top like he couldn’t be bothered. 

The living room was a war zone: pizza boxes stacked haphazardly, his jacket flung over a chair, socks balled up on the floor. The kitchen, visible from the entryway, overflowed with sinks full of plates crusted with remnants of whatever he’d microwaved last night.

You dropped your bag by the door, the thud echoing. 

“Sukuna.” Your voice was tight, edged with the exhaustion of the day. 

He didn’t even look up at first, taking a slow swig from the can. 

“Doll.” He drawled, finally glancing your way, smirk in place. “Rough day?”

“Rough day? Look around!” You gestured wildly, heat rising in your chest. “This place is a pigsty. I come home every night to this, and you? You’re just sitting here, beer in hand, like nothing’s wrong.”

He chuckled, low and mocking, setting the can down. “It’s not that bad. Chill.”

“Not that bad? I’ve asked you a dozen times. Reminded you. Begged, even. And nothing. I’m done cleaning up after you.” Your hands clenched at your sides, the ache in your legs forgotten in the surge of anger. 

He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly, that predatory glint in his eyes. 

“What’re you gonna do about it, then? Kick me out?”

The words hung there, challenging. 

You’d thought about it – finding a new roommate, someone reliable – but rent was due soon, and options were slim. No, you needed a different approach, something to shake that smugness. 

Your gaze dropped to his lap, the way his thighs strained against his pants, and an impulsive idea sparked, born of frustration and the undercurrent of tension that had simmered between you two since day one. 

He was attractive, infuriatingly so, and maybe, just maybe, you could turn the tables.

Without a word, you strode over, heart pounding. 

He watched, amused, as you planted yourself in front of him, hands on hips. 

“Move over.” You snapped. 

He blinked, then grinned wider, shifting just enough for you to straddle his lap. 

The couch dipped under your weight, his body solid and warm beneath you. “What’s this? Finally cracking under the pressure?”

“Shut up.” You hissed, leaning in close, your face inches from his. “You think you can just lounge around, making me do everything? Fine. I’ll make you pay attention.” 

Your hands fisted in his shirt, yanking him forward for a bruising kiss. He froze for a split second, surprise flickering, before his mouth slanted against yours, hot and demanding. 

His tongue swept in, tasting of beer and something darker, and you poured your anger into it, nipping at his lip hard enough to draw a growl.

You ground down against him, feeling the immediate stir of his arousal pressing up through his pants. Good. Let him feel out of control for once. 

Your fingers worked at his belt, fumbling in your haste, and he laughed against your mouth. “Eager, huh? Didn’t know you had it in you.” 

You ignored him, popping the button and tugging down his zipper. His cock sprang free as you shoved his pants aside – no underwear, of course – and your breath caught.

It was massive. Thick, veined, the head already flushed and leaking pre-cum, curving slightly upward like a promise of ruin.

You’d heard rumors about Sukuna, the way he carried himself, but seeing it... your core clenched involuntarily, a mix of apprehension and heat flooding you. 

He noticed your pause, his hands settling on your hips with a squeeze. “Impressed? Or scared off already?”

You glared down at him, cheeks burning. No backing down now. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” But your voice wavered as you shifted, hiking up your skirt and shoving your panties aside. 

You were already wet – anger and exhaustion twisting into something primal – and you positioned yourself over him, the tip nudging your entrance. 

Slowly, you sank down, the stretch immediate and intense. He was too big, splitting you open inch by inch, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. 

A gasp escaped you, hands bracing on his shoulders as you took more, the burn mingling with sparks of pleasure.

“Fuck…” He muttered, eyes darkening, but that cocky grin lingered. “Tight little thing. Go on, doll. Ride me if you’re so tough.”

You glared, nails digging into his skin, and forced yourself lower, until he was fully sheathed, your pussy clenching around his girth. 

It hurt, deliciously so, every ridge and vein pressing against your sensitive spots. You paused, breathing ragged, adjusting to the fullness that made your thighs tremble.

Then you moved. Up, slow and deliberate, then down, setting a rhythm that was more grind than bounce at first. 

His hands gripped your ass, guiding but not taking over – not yet. 

“That’s it.” He cooed, voice rough. “Show me what you’ve got.” 

You wanted to argue, to keep lecturing him about the mess, but words dissolved into moans as you rocked harder, the friction building heat in your core. 

His cock dragged along your walls, hitting deep, and you circled your hips, chasing the pressure against your clit.

Sweat beaded on your skin, your uniform blouse sticking to your back. 

You leaned forward, capturing his mouth again to silence his taunts, but he broke it with a chuckle. “Knew you wanted this. All that nagging was just foreplay.” 

“Shut—ah!—Shut up.” you panted, lifting higher now, slamming down with more force. 

The slap of skin echoed, your pussy soaking him, easing the way. Pleasure coiled tight, your breasts heaving with each breath, nipples hard against your bra.

He watched you, eyes hooded, one hand sliding up to cup your breast through the fabric, thumb circling the peak. 

“Look at you, bouncing like you own me.” 

You wanted to retort, but the words caught as his other hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit and rubbing in firm circles. The added sensation shattered your control; you rode faster, chasing the edge, your thighs burning from the effort.

It built slowly, that first orgasm: a wave cresting after what felt like eternity of grinding, his cock stretching you relentlessly. Your walls fluttered, then clamped down, pleasure ripping through you in shuddering pulses. 

You cried out, head thrown back, nails raking his chest as you came, juices coating him, dripping down his balls. 

“Fuck, just like that, doll. Keep—nnh!—cummin’, yeah?” He groaned, hips twitching up once, but holding back.

Your legs gave out then, the burn in your muscles too much after the long day, trembling uncontrollably. You collapsed forward, chest heaving against his, still impaled on his cock. 

He laughed softly, hands stroking your back in a surprisingly gentle touch. “Tired already, sweetheart?”

The shift in endearment sent a shiver through you, but you were too spent to protest. 

“Mmn, legs burn.” you whispered, aftershocks rippling. 

He hummed, one hand tangling in your hair, tilting your head to kiss your neck softly. ’Let me take over, baby. You’ve made your point.’ 

Before you could respond, he thrust up sharply, the angle hitting your g-spot dead-on. You yelped, clutching him as he set a brutal pace from below, his hips snapping up into you.

Each drive was deep, possessive, his cock pistoning in and out with wet sounds filling the room. You rocked with him, the earlier fatigue melting into renewed heat. 

His free hand roamed: squeezing your ass, tracing the curve of your spine, dipping to where you joined to feel himself sliding in. 

“So wet f’me…” he murmured, voice husky. “Feel that? You’re—hah—gripping me like you never want to let go.”

You moaned, burying your face in his neck, inhaling his musky scent. The touches grounded you, his fingers now soothing circles on your thigh, then pinching lightly to spark jolts. 

Between thrusts, he slowed once, grinding deep, letting you feel every inch. “Tell me how it feels, baby. My cock filling you up.”

“So... full.” You gasped, clenching around him. “Don’t stop.”

He obliged, building speed again, but pausing to kiss your shoulder, teeth grazing skin.

Time stretched, the second build-up languid, drawn out by his teasing rhythm: hard thrusts followed by shallow grinds, his thumb back on your clit, rolling it until you whimpered. 

Sweat slicked your bodies, your skirt bunched at your waist, his shirt rucked up to expose rippling abs. 

You licked a stripe up his throat, tasting salt, and he groaned, rewarding you with a particularly deep plunge. “Good girl. Take it all.”

Interactions wove through the haze: his whispers in your ear. “You feel perfect, sweetheart—so tight, so hot.” 

Your hands explore his tattoos, tracing the lines as he fucks up into you, the contrast of ink and flushed skin mesmerizing. He captured your lips in a slow kiss, tongues tangling lazily while his hips rolled, drawing out the tension. 

“Not done yet.” He said against your mouth, slowing to a torturous grind. “Want you to come again for me.”

You did, eventually, the orgasm crashing slower this time, deeper, waves of ecstasy pulsing from your core outward. 

Your pussy spasmed around him, milking his cock, and he followed with a guttural moan, thrusting erratically as he came, hot spurts filling you, leaking out around his base. 

“Fuck, baby…” He panted, holding you close as you both trembled.

Spent, you slumped against him, his arms wrapping around your waist. The room quieted, only heavy breaths and the distant TV hum. 

Gently, he kissed the side of your head, lips lingering. 

“Alright, doll.” He muttered into your ear, voice soft. “I’ll clean up. Starting tomorrow, no more mess, yeah?” 

You smiled faintly, too blissed to argue, as his fingers stroked your hair.

a/n: this is... so yummy,,,, drools...

heart divider by @/enchanthings!

[kneelforgeto]

I just came really hard

[lemxnns]

⋆.𐙚 ̊ ̊ in a world full of hybrids, lion!sukuna is by far the most confusing - request!

Sukuna Ryomen, the lion hybrid you’d adopted on a whim from that rundown shelter on the edge of the city, embodied chaos wrapped in golden fur and piercing red eyes. 

His mane wasn’t the full, wild thing you’d expect from a lion – more like tousled spikes of pinkish hair that framed his sharp features – but the ears twitching atop his head and the long, tufted tail that swished with irritation marked him clearly. 

His teeth, sharper than any human’s and retractable when he wasn’t baring them in a snarl, added to the enigma. 

He was grumpy, always had been, from the moment you signed the papers and brought him home.

You remembered that first week vividly.

Sukuna had prowled your small apartment like he owned it, his massive frame – broad shoulders, rippling muscles under tawny skin – making the space feel even smaller. 

He’d ignored your attempts at conversation, his responses limited to grunts or dismissive flicks of his tail. He pushed you away with every glare and every turned back, building walls higher than the city skyline. 

Physically, too, when you got too close. Like that afternoon you’d tried to offer him a blanket for the couch, leaning in with a smile. His large hand had pressed gently but firmly against your shoulder, guiding you back a step. 

“Give me space, woman.” He’d muttered, voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine, not entirely from fear.

But the real trouble started with his claws. 

Retractable, yes, but deadly when extended, curved like scythes and begging for maintenance. 

On one of your first days together, you’d come home from work to find the side of your beloved couch shredded. Long gashes marred the fabric, tufts of stuffing peeking out like wounds. 

Sukuna lounged there, unrepentant, his tail draped over the armrest as he idly sharpened another set of claws against the leg of the coffee table. The scrape of keratin on wood echoed through the room, deliberate and rhythmic.

“Sukuna!” You’d exclaimed, dropping your bag. 

He hadn’t even looked up, just continued the motion, his ears flicking once in acknowledgment. 

You’d launched into a stern lecture then, hands on hips, explaining how this was your home, not some savanna den, and that he couldn’t just destroy things. 

He listened – or pretended to – with that nonchalant expression, red eyes half-lidded, a faint smirk playing on his lips that showed just a hint of those sharp canines. 

It wasn’t until you threatened to clip his claws yourself, pulling out a pair of heavy-duty clippers from the kitchen drawer, that he paused. His tail lashed once, sharply, and he retracted them with a huff.

“Fine.” He’d growled, stretching out on the ruined couch and promptly falling asleep, his chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths. 

The sight of him there, so vulnerable in repose despite his ferocity, had softened your resolve just a bit.

From then on, the scratching stopped – at least on your furniture. 

Sukuna found other ways to assert his grumpiness during the day. He’d sprawl across the couch like a king on his throne, blocking your path if you tried to sit, or he’d retreat to the balcony, staring out at the hybrid-filled streets below with a scowl. 

Interactions were minimal; he’d eat the meals you prepared without thanks, clean himself meticulously with long licks of his tongue over his arms, and avoid your gaze. It felt like he was keeping you at arm’s length, testing boundaries, daring you to give up on him. But you didn’t. 

There was something magnetic about his aloofness, the way his tail would betray him with a subtle twitch when you entered the room, or how his ears perked ever so slightly at your voice.

Nights, though – that was when the lion in him emerged in a different way.

Lions were social creatures, pack animals at heart, and Sukuna couldn’t deny his nature forever. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the city lights flickered on, he’d slink back inside, his steps silent despite his size. 

You’d be in the living room, curled up with a book or scrolling through your phone, when you’d feel it: the weight of his presence, the warmth radiating from his body before he even touched you.

The first time it happened, you’d frozen as he draped himself over you like a living blanket. 

His arms encircled your waist from behind, pulling you back against his chest as he settled on the couch. Tail curling around your thigh, the tuft brushed your skin softly. 

“Sukuna?” You’d whispered, heart pounding. 

He’d only grumbled something incoherent, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. 

Those sharp teeth grazed lightly, not biting, just a reminder of his wild side. And then, the purring started: a deep, vibrating rumble that emanated from his chest, soothing and intimate.

You’d reached up tentatively, fingers threading through the soft fur behind his ears. He leaned into the touch immediately, eyes closing in bliss, his tail flicking back and forth in slow, contented sweeps. 

The grumpiness melted away in those moments, replaced by a raw vulnerability that made your chest ache. He’d purr louder when you scratched just right, the sound vibrating through both of you, drawing you closer.

As the nights progressed, the cuddling became ritual. 

When you retreated to bed, he’d follow, slipping under the covers without a word. His body was a furnace, all that hybrid heat pressing against you, chasing away the chill of the apartment. 

He’d spoon you from behind, one arm slung over your hip, his legs tangled with yours. His tail would wrap around your calf, holding you in place, while his ears brushed your hair. 

In the quiet darkness, he’d nuzzle your shoulder, lips – soft despite the fangs that peeked out – pressing lazy kisses to your skin. 

“Warm enough?” He’d murmur sometimes, voice husky with sleep, as if he knew how his presence turned your bed into a cocoon of comfort.

You loved it, the contrast between his daytime detachment and nighttime affection. He’d pull you flush against him, his heartbeat a steady drum under your palm when you turned to face him. 

Fingers would trace idle patterns on your back, claws retracted to soft nubs that tickled rather than scratched. 

And when you scratched behind his ears again, he’d arch into it, purring so deeply it felt like thunder in your veins. His tail flicked against the sheets, a rhythmic thump of satisfaction, as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent.

Mornings brought the cycle full circle. 

The alarm would buzz, and Sukuna would stir, his warmth lingering even as he rolled away with a groan. By the time you sat up, he’d be on the other side of the bed, stretching languidly, ears flat against his head in grumpy protest at the daylight. 

“Too early…” He’d mutter, pushing your hand away if you reached for him, a gentle shove to your shoulder that lacked any real force. 

He’d pad to the kitchen, tail swishing irritably, and ignore you while pouring coffee – though you’d catch him glancing back, a flicker of softness in those red eyes before the mask slipped back on.

Yet, as you watched him sharpen his claws on a scratching post you’d bought just for him (no more threats needed), you couldn’t help but smile. 

The push and pull, the gruff exterior hiding a creature who craved your touch – it was confusing, yes, but it was yours. 

And in the quiet moments, when his tail brushed your leg accidentally (on purpose) or his purr rumbled low in his chest, you knew he felt the same.

Days blurred into this pattern, each one reinforcing the bond you were forging. 

One evening, after a particularly long day at work, you came home to find him waiting—not on the couch, but by the door, arms crossed, ears twitching. 

“You’re late.” He grumbled, but there was no bite to it. 

You stepped closer, testing, and this time, he didn’t push you away. Instead, his hand caught your wrist, pulling you into his chest. The hug was brief, awkward in his grumpiness, but his tail curled around your waist, holding you there.

That night, the cuddling was more intense. He draped over you fully, your back to his front, his mouth at your ear. 

“Missed you.” He admitted in a rare whisper, teeth nipping gently at your lobe. 

You twisted to face him, scratching behind his ears until his eyes fluttered shut, purrs filling the room. 

His warmth enveloped you, chasing away the exhaustion, as his hands roamed your sides—not demanding, just possessive, fingers splaying over your hips.

In the morning, the push returned: a gentle nudge as he escaped the bed, muttering about breakfast. 

But as you followed him to the kitchen, his tail flicked against your hand, an invitation to close the distance again. 

The cycle continued, grumpy days melting into intimate nights, each loop drawing you tighter together. 

Sukuna Ryomen, your confusing lion hybrid, was worth every scratched couch and stern lecture.

[kneelforgeto]

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH HES SO KAWAII DESU ILOVE THIS IDEA I LOVE HOW YOU MADE IT REAL

[lemxnns]

⋆.𐙚 ̊ ̊ sub!choso and valentine's day chocolate - mdni!

The warm, sticky trail of melted chocolate cascaded down Choso’s bare chest, the liquid heat contrasting sharply with the cool air of the bedroom. 

You hovered above him, straddling his hips with your thighs pressed firmly against his sides, your naked body flushed from the anticipation. 

Choso lay beneath you, completely exposed, his pale skin already marked with faint smears from earlier drips. His dark hair fanned out on the pillow, but right now, he looked anything but fierce – his lips parted in a soft gasp, eyes wide and pleading as the chocolate pooled in the dip of his collarbone.

It had all started earlier that evening, a Valentine’s Day surprise you’d planned meticulously. 

Choso, you decided, deserved something sweet and indulgent after how gently and lovingly he treated you. You’d hidden the box of premium chocolates in the kitchen, melting a generous portion over a double boiler while he was out on a quick errand. 

When he returned, you’d lured him to the bedroom with a coy smile and a trail of rose petals, only to push him gently onto the bed and strip him bare before revealing your treat. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Choso.” You’d whispered, watching his cheeks flush as you shed your own clothes. Now, here you were, turning him into your personal canvas.

You tilted the small bowl in your hand, letting another slow rivulet of the warm chocolate snake down his sternum, watching it spread and glisten under the soft lamp light. 

The temperature was just right – not scalding, but hot enough to make his muscles twitch beneath the surface. 

Choso’s breath hitched, a low whine escaping his throat as the sensation hit him. 

“Ah—it’s... warm.” He murmured, his voice already trembling, those deep eyes locking onto yours with a mix of vulnerability and need.

Leaning down, you dragged your tongue along the path you’d just created, starting from his chest to the base of his throat and lapping up the sweetness with deliberate, unhurried strokes. 

The chocolate melted further against your mouth, mingling with the faint salt of his skin. 

Choso bucked his hips involuntarily, his body flinching at the dual assault of heat and your wet, teasing tongue. His hands fisted the sheets beside him, knuckles whitening as he tried to stay still, but you could feel the tension coiling in him like a spring.

“Mmm, you taste even better like this, Cho’.” You praised softly, your voice light and playful, a giggle bubbling up as you felt his cock – already hard and pressing insistently against your inner thigh – throb in response. 

It was thick, veined along its length, the shaft curving slightly upward with a flushed, deep pink hue that darkened toward the tip. The head was broad and smooth, glistening with a bead of precum that betrayed how worked up he already was. 

You loved how it jumped at the slightest provocation, a testament to his submissiveness, how every touch unraveled him so completely.

He whimpered, a soft, needy sound that sent a thrill straight to your core. “Please– mmh..! That feels so good. ’M gonna go crazy..” 

His hips shifted again, seeking friction, but you pressed your weight down just enough to pin him in place, denying him that relief. 

You traced your tongue lower, circling his nipple where a stray drop had landed, flicking the hardened bud with the flat of your tongue before sucking gently. Choso’s back arched, another whine spilling from his lips as his thighs trembled beneath you.

“The chocolate’s still warm, isn’t it? You keep flinching.” 

You drizzled a little more, this time aiming for the defined ridges of his abs, watching the liquid pool in the valleys between muscles honed from endless fights. 

He gasped, body jerking as the heat seeped in, and you followed immediately with your mouth, licking broad stripes across his stomach. Your tongue pressed flat, savoring the mix of flavors, the way his skin quivered under the attention. 

Choso’s whines grew higher-pitched, his hands finally reaching up to grip your shoulders, fingers digging in just a bit too desperately.

“You’re so sensitive, Cho’. It’s adorable.” You giggled again, the sound light and affectionate, as you nipped at his side, feeling him shudder. 

His cock twitched against you, the length sliding along your slick folds without entering, and you could feel how desperately it pulsed, seeking more. But you weren’t ready to give in yet. 

Instead, you lifted the bowl higher, letting a thin stream fall directly onto the tip of his cock.

The warm chocolate hit the sensitive head, and Choso’s entire body seized. His cock jerked violently, the shaft thickening even more as the heat enveloped it, a fresh bead of precum mixing with the chocolate. 

“Oh god—! That’s—hnn!—too much!” He cried out, his head tipping back against the pillow, neck straining as waves of pleasure-pain shot through him. 

His thighs shook uncontrollably now, muscles clenching and releasing in rapid succession, and his whines turned into breathless pleas. 

“Please, it feels insane—hot and sticky, and I—”

You couldn’t resist the sight of him like this, utterly wrecked from something so simple. 

Dipping your head, you started at the base, your tongue swirling around the thick root where chocolate had dripped down. The flavor was richer here, blended with his musky arousal, and you hummed in approval, the vibration making his hips buck wildly. 

Slowly, you licked upward, tracing every vein, every ridge, until you reached the head. Your lips parted, and you sucked the tip into your mouth, tongue lapping greedily at the chocolate-coated crown. 

Choso’s eyes squeezed shut, a guttural moan ripping from his chest as his body went rigid, then limp, overwhelmed.

“Yes—yes, just like that! Don’t stop– ah, fuck, please don’t stop!” His begging was frantic, voice cracking with desperation, hands now tangled in your hair, not pulling but holding on for dear life. 

You took him deeper for a moment, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue, feeling his cock throb against your palate, the veins pulsing with his racing heartbeat. 

But as he started to thrust shallowly, chasing the edge, you pulled back with a wet pop, denying him the release he craved. 

A string of saliva and chocolate connected your lips to his tip, and you licked it away with a playful grin.

“Not yet, baby. You’re doing so well, but I wanna drag this out a little longer.” You praised him, your tone teasing yet warm, watching as his chest heaved, frustration and need warring on his face.

 His cock stood proud, now shiny from your saliva rather than just chocolate, twitching in the air as if protesting the loss of your mouth.

Choso whimpered pitifully, his compliant nature fully on display: eyes glassy, lips swollen from biting them, body a trembling mess beneath you.

You shifted your position slightly, aligning yourself over him, your pussy hovering just above his length. The heat from his cock radiated up, mixing with your own arousal, and you could feel how wet you were, slickness coating your thighs. 

“So desperate aren’t you? It’s turning me on so much.” Another giggle escaped as you sank down slowly, inch by torturous inch, enveloping his thick cock in your tight heat. 

Choso’s eyes rolled back instantly, whites flashing as a deep, throaty moan tore from him. 

“Fuck– so tight… haah, you’re squeezing me so good.” He gasped, his hands flying to your hips, fingers bruising as he gripped desperately, trying to pull you down faster.

But you controlled the pace, lowering yourself languidly, feeling every stretch, every vein dragging against your inner walls. His cock filled you completely, the broad head nudging deep inside, pressing against that spot that made your breath catch. 

Once fully seated, you paused, rolling your hips in a slow circle to adjust, and Choso bucked up weakly, whining at the friction. “Please... move. I need it—ngh!—need you to ride me.”

“Patience, Choso. You’re being such a good boy for me.” You reached for the bowl again, pouring a fresh line of melted chocolate across his chest, letting it drip over his pecs and down to his nipples. 

The warmth made him flinch once more, his cock twitching inside you in response, and you leaned forward to lick it off. Your tongue flicked at one nipple, then the other, sucking each into your mouth with gentle pulls that had him arching beneath you. 

The chocolate smeared across your lips, sweet and decadent, as you praised between laps. “These are so sensitive... you like when I tease them, don’t you?”

He was a complete mess now: whimpers constant, body slick with sweat and chocolate remnants, hips jerking erratically as you began to rise and fall in a slow rhythm. 

Each descent took him deep, your pussy clenching around his length, milking him with every upward slide. 

Choso’s grip on your hips tightened, guiding you but not forcing, his submissiveness shining through in the way he let you lead. 

“Uh-huh—mmh!—love it. You’re... it’s too good. Please, let me cum soon. I can’t hold it.” His voice was wrecked, begging interspersed with moans, eyes locked on where your bodies joined, watching his cock disappear into you.

You giggled at his pleas, the sound breathy as pleasure built in your core. Picking up a small piece of unmelted chocolate from the box beside the bed, you popped it into your mouth, letting it soften on your tongue. 

Then, you leaned down, capturing his lips in a messy kiss. The chocolate transferred between you, tongues tangling in a slick, sweet exchange – his mouth eager, sucking on your tongue as if it were the only thing grounding him. 

Chocolate smeared across his chin, your lips, but neither of you cared; the kiss deepened, all heat and desperation, while you ground down harder, feeling his cock pulse inside you.

Choso thrust up to meet you, the movement uncontrolled, his whines muffled against your mouth. #

“Gonna cum—please, I need to. You feel so– so perfect..!” He broke the kiss to gasp, forehead pressing to yours, breaths mingling in hot pants. 

You could feel yourself getting close too, the coil tightening with every slide of his thick shaft against your walls, the way his head bumped that sweet spot deep inside.

“Not yet—ahn!—wait for me, Cho’. Just a little longer.” Your voice was teasing, but laced with your own building ecstasy. 

You rode him steadily, hips circling at the bottom of each stroke to grind your clit against his pubic bone. Choso’s hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit with surprising accuracy despite his haze. 

He rubbed in firm circles, the pressure just right, drawing a moan from your throat. 

“Yes—right there..! ‘M gonna cum!”

His touch sent sparks through you, pushing you higher, and you clenched around him rhythmically, making his eyes flutter shut as he fought to hold back.

“Can’t– mmgh! It’s too much. ‘M sorry!” His begging was constant now, thrusts growing erratic, cock swelling inside you as he teetered on the edge.

The combination of his fingers on your clit, the fullness of his cock stretching you, and the intimate mess of chocolate and sweat between you finally tipped you over. 

Pleasure crashed through you, walls fluttering wildly around him as you cried out, nails digging into his shoulders.

That was all he needed. With a broken whimper, Choso thrust up hard, burying himself deep as he came. Hot spurts of cum filled you, the sensation warm and overflowing, his cock pulsing with each release. 

His eyes rolled back again, body shaking violently beneath you, thighs quivering as waves of ecstasy wracked him. “Thank you—oh god, thank you. S-So good..”

a/n: yes im aware im a day late no i dont care anyways enjoy this i actually wrote 2k words for choso no way!!

divider by @/uzmacchiato!

[kneelforgeto]

Came, need him.

[lemxnns]

F★CUS!

── synopsis .✦ your boyfriend, yuji itadori, decides to come home from his lectures to distract you and disturb your alone time! you try your best to ignore his advances, but he wont back down that easily and wont stop until he has your full attention!

── contains .✦ aged up characters, modern!au, loner!gf (although i dont think i mentioned it directly) smut with little plot, p in v, doggystyle, overstimulation, praise kink, teasing, multiple orgasms, creampies, assplay, spitting, oral (f!recieving), fingering, fluff for a little bit, yuji is secretly a freak, mdni!

── word count .✦ 3.1k!

this fic goes with bf!yuji x loner!gf texts but you dont need it for context!

The door to your shared apartment clicks shut behind Yuji, the faint echo of his sneakers being kicked off in the entryway filtering through the quiet space.

It’s late afternoon, the golden light of the sun slanting through the half-drawn blinds of your bedroom window, casting warm stripes across the rumpled sheets. 

You’ve been home all day, curled up in your little world as usual – your tendencies keeping you tucked away from the bustle of campus life. 

The bed is your sanctuary, and right now, you’re sprawled on your stomach, legs kicked out lazily behind you, scrolling through your phone with one hand propping up your chin. 

The soft fabric of your oversized t-shirt rides up just a bit at your hips, exposing the waistband of your black leggings, and your panties peek out subtly beneath.

Yuji’s footsteps are light as he pads down the hallway, his backpack thumping softly against the wall when he drops it. You hear his voice before you see him, that familiar, upbeat tone cutting through the haze of your feed. 

“Baby, I’m home!” He calls out, and there’s a grin in his words, like he’s already picturing the way you’ll look up at him with that shy smile you try to hide.

You glance over your shoulder just as he pushes the bedroom door open, his broad frame filling the doorway. His pink hair is a little tousled from the wind outside, his hoodie zipped halfway down to reveal the collar of his t-shirt clinging to his muscled chest. 

Those warm brown eyes lock onto you immediately, lighting up with that effortless affection he always has for you. 

“Missed you…” He whines, crossing the room in a few strides.

He doesn’t waste time; you feel the mattress dip under his weight as he climbs onto the bed behind you, his body heat radiating even before he touches you. Strong hands settle on your hips first, thumbs brushing the exposed skin there in slow, gentle circles. 

“What’re you looking at? Anything good?” He murmurs, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the back of your neck before forcefully making space for himself to watch whatever’s on your phone. His breath is warm against your skin, sending a tiny shiver down your spine that you hope he doesn’t notice.

You hum noncommittally, eyes flicking back to your phone screen. “Just… reels.” You mumble, trying to keep your voice steady. 

It’s not that you don’t want him close – you always do, in your quiet way – but you’ve got this habit of playing it cool, especially when he comes home all energized from his lectures. Like if you act too eager, it’ll shatter the fragile bubble you’ve built around yourself.

Yuji chuckles low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest as he shifts his weight, settling fully over you now. 

His thighs bracket your legs, his hips pressing lightly against your ass in a way that’s comforting rather than demanding – at least at first. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin again. 

“Reels, huh? Better than my boring ethics class.” Another kiss, this one lingering a second longer, his mouth open just enough to let his tongue flick out teasingly against your earlobe.

You bite your lip, fingers tightening on your phone. 

It’s innocent enough, these little affections he peppers you with, but you can feel the shift in him already: the way his hands slide up your sides, pushing your t-shirt higher. 

“Yuji…” You start, but it comes out softer than you intend, almost a protest but not quite.

“What? Can’t I kiss my girlfriend hello?” He teases, his voice playful as he plants another kiss on your shoulder blade, then another lower down your spine. 

His hands are warm, calloused from all those workouts he drags you to sometimes, and they knead gently at your lower back. 

You arch just a fraction without meaning to, and he notices – of course he does. “See? You like it.”

You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see it, and scroll faster on your phone. 

“I’m busy.” You lie, but there’s no heat in it. 

The truth is, your heart’s already picking up, a familiar warmth pooling low in your belly. But you won’t let him know that yet. Not when he’s in this mood, all playful and insistent.

He doesn’t push too hard at first, content to drape himself over you like a human blanket, his chin resting on your shoulder as he peers at your screen. 

“Lemme see.” He insists, and you tilt the phone away just enough to make him laugh. 

His kisses continue, though: soft, lazy ones along your arm, your side, the curve of your waist. Each one is light, almost chaste, but they build something in the air, a slow simmer that makes your skin tingle.

Minutes pass like this, the room quiet except for the occasional buzz of notifications and Yuji’s contented hums. 

His body weight pins you gently, his cock half-hard already against your thigh through his jeans, but he doesn’t grind or demand. He’s just… there, warm and solid, his lips trailing lower now, down the dip of your spine. 

When he reaches the hem of your t-shirt, he pauses, fingers hooking under it to lift it slowly. 

“Lift up a sec, baby.” He murmurs, and you do, just enough for him to tug it up to your shoulder blades and off of you, exposing your back fully.

The kisses turn hotter then, his mouth open and wet against your skin. He licks a slow stripe up your spine, from the small of your back to your neck, and you gasp quietly, your phone screen blurring for a second. 

“Yuji, that tickles!” You complain, but your voice wavers, and he knows.

“Does it?” He whispers, breath fanning over the damp trail he left. “Or does it feel good?”

Another kiss, this one sucking lightly at the base of your spine, his teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. 

His hands slide under you now, palms flat against your stomach, pulling you back against him ever so slightly. You can feel how much harder he’s gotten, the denim rough against your leggings, but he still takes his time, kissing along your ribs, your sides, like he’s mapping you out.

You try to focus on your phone – a video of some cat doing something stupid – but your thumb slips, pausing it midway. 

Heat creeps up your neck, and you press your thighs together subtly, hoping he won’t notice the growing ache between them. 

“You’re distracting me.” You say, aiming for casual, but it comes out breathy.

Yuji’s laugh is muffled against your skin. “Good. You deserve a break from all that scrolling.” 

He shifts lower, his body sliding down yours until his face is level with your lower back. His hands grip your hips, thumbs digging in just enough to tilt them up a fraction. 

Kisses pepper your skin there: soft, then firmer, his tongue dipping into the dimples above your ass. You feel exposed, even clothed, and your breath hitches when his lips brush the top of your leggings.

“What are you—” You begin, but the words die as he kisses lower, right over the curve of your ass cheek through the fabric. 

It’s innocent on the surface, but the intent is clear now, his breath hot and deliberate. He nuzzles there, nose pressing against the seam, and you clench involuntarily, a spark of arousal shooting straight to your core.

“Just saying hi to the rest of you.” He claims, voice husky now. 

His hands slide down your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh, and he kisses along the crease where your ass meets your thigh. Each press of his lips is slower, lingering, his teeth nipping lightly at the legging material. 

You feel yourself getting wet, the dampness soaking into your panties, and you shift your hips, trying to play it off as adjusting your position.

But Yuji’s not fooled. 

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, tugging them down just an inch, exposing the top of your panties. 

“These look comfy.” He states casually, kissing the newly bared skin. “But I bet you’re even comfier without ‘em.” He pulls them lower, slow and teasing, until your ass is half-exposed, the cool air hitting your skin and making you shiver.

“Yuji…”

This time, your voice is a warning, but it’s weak, laced with the anticipation you can’t quite hide. 

Your phone feels heavy in your hand, the screen forgotten as his mouth finds the curve of your cheek, sucking a light mark there.

He pauses, looking up at you with those puppy-dog eyes, all innocence. “What? You don’t want me to?” 

But his hands don’t stop, tugging the leggings and panties down together now, inch by inch, until they’re pooled at your knees. Your pussy is exposed to the air, already slick and aching, and you feel his gaze on it like a physical touch.

You clutch your phone tighter, scrolling blindly now, pretending to read something. “I’m... fine like this.” You mutter, but your voice cracks, and your hips twitch when his fingers brush your inner thigh.

Yuji hums, unconvinced. "Yeah? Let’s see." 

Without warning, he props you up: hands firm on your hips, lifting your ass into the air while your face stays pressed into the mattress. Face down, ass up, your knees spreading instinctively to balance. 

The position is vulnerable, your pussy on full display, and you feel a flush of heat rush through you. But you keep your phone in hand, arm stretched out awkwardly, eyes glued to the screen as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“Look at you, all casual, hm?” He teases, his voice low and amused. 

He settles between your legs, shoulders nudging your thighs wider. His breath ghosts over your folds, and you bite your lip hard to stifle the whimper building in your throat. 

“Still scrolling?”

“Mhm,” you manage, but it’s strained, your thumb hovering uselessly over the screen. 

He chuckles, and then his hands are on your ass, spreading your cheeks gently, thumbs pulling your lips apart. The cool air hits your clit, and you nearly drop the phone right then.

“Baby, you’re soaked already…” He coos, awe in his tone mixed with that playful edge. “All this from a few kisses?” 

Before you can respond, his tongue flicks out – flat and slow – lapping from your entrance up to your clit in one long, deliberate stroke.

The sensation hits you like a wave, wet and hot, his tongue pressing firmly against your sensitive skin. 

You gasp, fingers fumbling on your phone, but you force yourself to keep holding it, scrolling through nothing. 

“Not—mmf!—not really!” You lie, voice muffled against the sheets.

He doesn’t buy it. His tongue circles your clit lazily, sucking it between his lips with a gentle pull that makes your toes curl. 

“Liar.” He practically growls against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. 

As he licks again, he’s slower this time, exploring every fold, dipping into your entrance to taste the slick gathering there. 

His hands knead your ass, keeping you spread open for him, and he hums appreciatively. “Tastes so good, baby. Sweet like always.”

You try to focus – try to pretend – but it’s impossible. 

Each lap of his tongue builds the pressure, coiling tight in your belly. He alternates between broad strokes and pointed flicks, sucking your clit until it throbs, then soothing it with slow circles. 

Your phone slips from your fingers, landing on the mattress beside you with a thud, but you don’t care anymore. 

“Y-Yuji... oh god!” You moan, the words slurring slightly as your body betrays you, hips pushing back into his mouth.

“There we go…” He praises, voice thick with satisfaction. “Knew you couldn’t pretend forever.” 

He dives back in, tongue thrusting shallowly into you now, fucking you with it while his thumb rubs your clit in tight circles. 

The dual sensation is overwhelming, your walls clenching around nothing, aching for more. He adds a finger, sliding it in easily with how wet you are, curling it just right to hit that spot inside you.

Your moans grow louder, slurred and broken. “F– Fuck! Yuji, please…” 

In response, he groans against you, the sound rumbling through your core. 

“That’s it, baby. Lemme hear you.” 

His finger pumps steadily, tongue lashing your clit relentlessly, and the orgasm crashes over you without mercy. 

Your body seizes, thighs trembling around his head, pussy pulsing around his finger as waves of pleasure rip through you. 

You cry out, face burying deeper into the sheets, but he doesn’t stop: lapping at you through it, drawing out every shudder until you’re gasping, oversensitive.

When he finally pulls back, his chin glistens with your arousal, and he crawls up your body slowly, pressing kisses along your spine as he goes. 

“Mmh, did so good f’me.” He whispers, nipping your shoulder. “How many more can I give you today?”

You whimper, still catching your breath, but he doesn’t give you time to recover.

His jeans are gone now – you hear the zipper, feel the bed shift – and then his cock is nudging against your entrance, hot and thick. 

“Gonna fuck you now, baby.” He announces, voice rough with need. “You ready?”

“Uh-huh.” You breathe, and he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you around his girth. 

It’s always like this with him: full, perfect, the way he fills you making your eyes flutter shut. 

He bottoms out with a groan, hands gripping your hips. “So tight... fuck, you feel amazing.”

Starting slow, he pulled back almost all the way before sliding in again, deep and measured. Each thrust drags against your walls, the head of his cock bumping your cervix just enough to make you see stars. 

You grab a pillow, hugging it to your chest, face pressing into it to muffle the moans spilling from your lips. 

“Nnh, s’deep..!” You slur, but it’s half-hearted, your body already rocking back to meet him.

Yuji laughs breathlessly, leaning over you now, his chest to your back. One hand braces beside your head, the other sliding under to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple. 

“A pillow? But I love your sounds, baby.”

Thrusting harder, he angles to hit that spot inside you, and your eyes roll back, a choked moan escaping despite the pillow. 

He watches, mesmerized, his lips brushing your ear. “Look at you... eyes rolling like that. So pretty when you’re falling apart.”

The praise sends heat flooding through you, your pussy clenching around him. You fuck back weakly, ass pushing against his hips, chasing the friction. 

“Yuji– feels s-so good…!” You moan, words slurring as the pleasure builds again, faster this time.

“Yeah? Keep doing that—haah, so pretty—fuck back on me, just like that.” Sitting back up, his free hand massages your ass: squeezing the flesh, then spreading your cheeks wide. 

The new angle lets him see everything – his cock disappearing into your slick pussy, coated in your juices. “G– God, baby, look at how you take me. So greedy aren’t ’cha?”

You whine into the pillow, the exposure making you burn hotter, but you don’t stop: your hips circling weakly, grinding back onto him. 

He’s relentless, thrusts picking up pace but still dragged out, each one pulling whimpers from you. 

Then, suddenly, you feel something wet and warm – his spit landing right on your asshole, the shock making you jump and squeal, body tensing around his cock.

“Y– Yuji!” You gasp, half-scandalized, half-aroused, the sensation sending a jolt straight to your clit.

He groans, thrusting deeper at the clench. "Fuck, that was cute. Jumped so—hck!—high." 

His thumb circles your asshole now, slick with his spit, pressing just the tip in teasingly. 

“When are you gonna let me fuck you here, baby? Been thinking about it—hah, shit…—stretching this tight little hole.” You can practically hear the pout in his voice despite the building pleasure.

You’re too far gone, the words and the pressure pushing you toward the edge. 

All you can manage is a high-pitched whine, slurred and desperate. “Nhah, Yu’... close…” Your body trembles, pussy fluttering around him.

He finds it hilarious, chuckling darkly even as his thrusts falter. “Can’t even answer? That’s adorable. Come on, baby, cum for me again.”

His hand slips around to rub your clit, fast and firm, and it’s over. 

The orgasm hits harder than the first, ripping through you like fire, your walls spasming wildly around his cock. You scream into the pillow, eyes rolling back completely, body convulsing as overstimulation sets in, every nerve alight.

Yuji groans loud, the sound raw and broken. “Shit—fuck, that’s it... milking me so good.” 

He doesn’t pull out, thrusting through your climax, chasing his own. 

A few more deep pumps, and he buries himself to the hilt, cock pulsing as he cums inside you – hot spurts filling you up, leaking out around him. 

“Take it all... yeah, just like that.”

He collapses over you gently, both of you panting, his arms wrapping around your waist. But he’s not done—not by a long shot. As you come down, twitching from the overstimulation, he starts moving again, slow and shallow, his cock still hard inside you. 

“One more?” He tries, kissing your neck. “You can do it, baby. So perfect for me.”

You whimper, slapping weakly at his thigh. “T-Too much..! Hold on…”

But he just pouts, catching your hand and kissing it.

“Please, pretty baby? Just one last time f’me?” And he builds it up again, slow and torturous, drawing out every sensation until you’re lost in it all over.

The afternoon stretches on like that, Yuji coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you: three, four, until you’re a boneless mess, slurring his name, weakly pushing back even as overstimulation makes you sob with pleasure. 

He praises you through it all, his hands everywhere: teasing, massaging, spreading you open to watch himself ruin you.

By the time he finally stills, spilling inside you for the last time, the sun is dipping low, painting the room in oranges and pinks. 

He pulls out slowly, cum dripping from your pussy, and flips you over gently, gathering you into his arms. 

“You okay?” He asks softly, brushing hair from your face.

You nod, spent and sated, curling into his chest. “Yeah... love you.”

"Love you too, baby." And he holds you, the world outside forgotten in your little bubble.

a/n: yep okay here we go i definitely didnt stare at this for like 5 days figuring out how to write this. but i actually like this a lot heh

dividers by @/222luvr!

art by @/kcokaine_ on x!

[kneelforgeto]

LEMON POSTED IM CUMMING

THIS IS SO GOOD IM ITS ALL IVER THE SCREEN I LOVE THE PLAYFULNESS GIGGLESSSS

[lemxnns]

THE TERMS OF OUR UNION.

── synopsis .✦ married as a truce, you are bound to emperor suguru geto, a man who keeps you at a careful, infuriating distance. when your patience finally snaps, an argument forces the truth into the open: his restraint was never indifference, but love he believed was unreturned.

── contains .✦ emperor!suguru, arranged marriage trope, princess!reader, fem!reader, light angst, miscommunication, or lack of, brat taming, hair pulling, spanking, doggy style, missionary, belly bulges, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockdrunk!reader, whipped!suguru, pussydrunk!suguru, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink, oral (f!recieving), aftercare, suguru might be a little crazy about reader, obsessed!suguru?, mdni!

── word count .✦ 4.1k!

You had always known that your life was not entirely your own. 

As the daughter of a beleaguered king from a small, resource-strapped kingdom on the fringes of the empire, your existence had been shaped by the whims of politics and survival. 

Whispers of war had echoed through the marble halls of your family’s palace for years, growing louder with each passing season as the mighty Empire of the East expanded its borders like an unyielding tide. 

Your father, a man whose crown weighed heavier on his brow than on his head, had exhausted every diplomatic avenue, every tribute of gold and grain, to appease the emperor who loomed over all like a shadow.

And then came the proposal – not a request, but a decree. 

The emperor, Suguru Geto, would spare your kingdom from conquest if you were offered to him in marriage. 

It was a bargain struck in desperation, your hand traded for the lives of thousands. You had no say in the matter, of course. Your protests fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the clamor of relief from your father’s advisors. 

“It is an honor,” they told you, their voices laced with false cheer. “The emperor himself has chosen you.”

But honor felt like a chain around your neck as preparations for the wedding consumed the kingdom. 

Servants bustled about, draping your chambers in silks imported from the imperial capital, fitting you for gowns that whispered of elegance and submission. And through it all, the stories about him painted a portrait that chilled you to the bone. 

Suguru Geto was no ordinary ruler; he was a force of nature cloaked in imperial robes. 

They said he was cold, his precision in governance as sharp as a blade. He commanded entire rooms without uttering a word – his mere presence enough to silence dissent and bend wills. Always serious, never one for frivolity or warmth, he ruled with an iron fist wrapped in velvet gloves. 

Rumors swirled of his unyielding stare, capable of stripping away pretenses and exposing the raw truth beneath. You imagined him as a statue come to life, beautiful perhaps, but devoid of the spark that made men human.

The journey to the imperial capital was a blur of guarded caravans and endless roads flanked by the empire’s vast armies. 

Your heart pounded with a mix of dread and resignation as the towering spires of the palace came into view, piercing the sky like the teeth of some ancient beast. 

The wedding itself was a spectacle orchestrated to perfection, a union of power and sacrifice under the watchful eyes of nobles, generals, and foreign envoys. You stood at the altar in a gown of crimson and gold, the colors of the empire, feeling like a lamb adorned for the altar.

And then he appeared.

Suguru Geto stepped forward from the shadows of the grand hall, his presence rippling through the assembled crowd like a stone dropped into still water. 

He was taller than you had envisioned, his frame lean and commanding, clad in robes of deep black embroidered with silver threads that caught the light from the chandeliers above. 

His long, dark hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, framing a face that was both strikingly handsome and profoundly unreadable. High cheekbones, full lips pressed into a firm line, and eyes – those piercing dark eyes – that seemed to hold the weight of empires within them. He moved with a deliberate grace, each step measured, as if the very ground yielded to his will.

You expected the coldness, the precision, but not this... politeness. 

As the ceremony began, officiated by a high priest whose voice echoed off the vaulted ceilings, Suguru turned to you. His gaze met yours for the first time, and there was no disdain, no indifference – just a quiet intensity that made your breath catch. 

“It is an honor to stand before you today.” He said, his voice smooth and low, carrying the weight of formality without the edge of cruelty you had feared. The words were polite, scripted perhaps, but delivered with a sincerity that surprised you.

When the time came for the exchange of vows, his hand reached for yours. His touch was firm, fingers encircling your wrist with a possessiveness that sent a murmur through the onlookers. 

To them, it must have looked like a claim, a silent declaration of ownership over the bride offered from a conquered land. His thumb brushed lightly against your pulse point, a fleeting contact that lingered just a moment too long, possessive in its subtlety. 

But to you, it felt restrained, as if he were holding back a tide of something deeper. He didn’t squeeze or demand; instead, he released your hand with a gentle precision, stepping back to allow the priest to continue.

The feast that followed was a whirlwind of opulence: toasts raised in crystal goblets, platters of exotic fruits and roasted meats, musicians playing melodies that wove through the air like silk. 

Suguru sat beside you at the high table, his posture impeccable, engaging in quiet conversations with his advisors. He turned to you occasionally, offering a nod or a brief question about your journey, always polite, always reserved. 

“I hope the capital treats you well.” He commented at one point, his eyes flicking to yours before returning to the room. There was no overt possessiveness now, just that careful distance, as if he were navigating an invisible boundary.

You nodded, murmuring your thanks, but inside, confusion swirled. The man before you was not the monster of rumors; he was serious, yes, but his politeness disarmed you. 

Yet, as the night wore on and the guests departed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was merely the beginning of a life tethered to a stranger.

The first weeks of your marriage unfolded in a haze of adjustment. 

The imperial palace was a labyrinth of grandeur: endless corridors lined with tapestries depicting the empire’s triumphs, gardens that bloomed eternally under the care of silent gardeners, and chambers that dwarfed anything you had known back home. 

Your days were filled with the quiet routines of a new empress: lessons in court etiquette from stern-faced tutors, audiences with the emperor’s inner circle where you were introduced as a symbol of unity, and solitary afternoons wandering the palace grounds, trying to find your place in this vast, impersonal world.

Suguru, true to the tales, was a phantom in your shared life.

 He rose before dawn for council meetings, his days consumed by the machinery of empire – decrees on trade routes, strategies against border skirmishes, audiences with vassal lords. 

You saw him at meals, formal affairs where conversation was sparse and laced with protocol. He would inquire after your comfort with that same polite detachment: 

“Have the seamstresses provided suitable attire?” or “Does the library suit your interests?” 

His touches, when they occurred, were minimal: a hand at the small of your back to guide you through a crowded hall, fingers that rested there with a firmness that bordered on possessive, drawing sidelong glances from the courtiers. 

But he never lingered, never crossed into intimacy. He was trying, you sensed, not to overstep, to respect the boundaries of an arrangement born of necessity rather than choice.

Nights were the hardest. Your shared bedchamber was a masterpiece of luxury, with a canopied bed draped in silks and a balcony overlooking the city lights. 

But Suguru retired late, often after you had feigned sleep, slipping into the adjoining study to pore over scrolls by candlelight. 

When he did join you, it was with a quiet efficiency – he changed into night robes, bid you goodnight with a nod, and turned his back, leaving an ocean of space between you on the mattress. No overtures, no attempts to bridge the gap. 

You lay awake, staring at the ornate ceiling, wondering if this was to be your existence: a beautiful cage, shared with a husband who treated you like a fragile artifact.

Months slipped by in this rhythm, the initial novelty of palace life giving way to a creeping isolation. 

You threw yourself into diversions to fill the void: studying the empire’s history in the vast library, where shelves towered like ancient trees; tending to a small herb garden in the secluded east wing, the soil grounding you in something tangible; even hosting modest teas for the wives of nobles, though their conversations often skirted around you, laced with curiosity about the “foreign bride.” 

Your kingdom’s tribute arrived regularly, reports from your father assuring you that peace held, but the letters were tinged with gratitude that felt like another layer of your sacrifice.

Suguru’s routine remained unchanging. He commanded the court with effortless authority, his presence alone quelling debates in the throne room. 

You observed him from afar during public sessions, noting how ministers straightened at his approach, how his rare words cut through noise like a scalpel. 

He was precise in everything – his edicts fair but unyielding, his gaze assessing without cruelty. Yet, in private moments, when your paths crossed in the halls, his politeness persisted. 

A slight bow of the head, a murmured “Good morning,” and that occasional touch – a brush of knuckles against your arm as he passed a document, possessive in its intent but withdrawn before it could unsettle.

But the distance gnawed at you. As a married woman, you were expected to embody grace and companionship, yet your husband barely acknowledged your existence beyond duty. 

Whispers among the servants reached your ears: “The emperor is reserved,” they said, “but perhaps he finds the arrangement... unappealing.” 

It stung, fueling a frustration that simmered beneath your composed exterior. You were no longer the sheltered princess; you were an empress in name, but a ghost in practice. 

Nights alone in that vast bed amplified the loneliness, the silk sheets cold against your skin, the silence broken only by the distant toll of bells marking the hours.

One evening, after six months of this silent coexistence, the weight became unbearable. 

The sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the palace in hues of amber and shadow. You had spent the day in the gardens, pruning roses that bloomed defiantly despite the chill in the air, but your mind wandered to the man who shared your title yet not your life. 

Dinner had been a solitary affair in your chambers, the food tasteless on your tongue. Suguru was late again, his study door closed against the world.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Straightening your shoulders, you crossed the room and knocked firmly on the study door. Silence, then a quiet “Enter.”

Pushing it open, you found him at his desk, surrounded by maps and ledgers, his hair slightly disheveled from hours of work – a rare glimpse of vulnerability. He looked up, surprise flickering in those dark eyes before it was schooled into his usual composure. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, setting down his quill.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you with a decisive click. The room smelled of ink and parchment, a masculine scent that mingled with the faint trace of sandalwood from his robes. 

“No,” you began, your voice steadier than you felt, “everything is not alright. We’ve been married for half a year, Suguru, and you treat me like a stranger in my own home. You command empires with a glance, yet you can’t even look at me without this... wall between us.”

He rose slowly, his height unfolding like a shadow lengthening. For a moment, he was silent, his expression unreadable. 

Then, he moved around the desk, stopping a respectful distance away. 

“I apologize if I’ve made you feel unwelcome,” he replied, his tone polite as ever, but there was a tension in his jaw, a subtle shift in his posture. “This marriage was arranged for the good of your people. I did not wish to impose upon you more than necessary.”

“Impose?” You laughed, a sharp sound that echoed in the quiet space. “We’re husband and wife, not distant allies. You leave me alone to wander these halls, doing ’your own thing’ while I do mine.” 

Your voice rose, laced with the bitterness that had been festering for months. “Months have passed, and I feel more isolated here than I ever did in my father’s palace. Do you even see me? Or am I just a symbol to parade at court?”

Crossing your arms, you glared at him, your cheeks flushed with the heat of confrontation. “I gave up everything – my home, my freedom – for this sham, and you can’t even pretend to be interested? It’s humiliating. Everyone whispers about the distant emperor and his unwanted bride. If you hate this as much as I think you do, just say it. End this farce.”

Suguru rose from his chair in one fluid motion, his height towering over you as he rounded the desk.

His expression shifted, the polite mask cracking to reveal a glint of something wilder, more intense: a slight craze flickering in his eyes, like a man on the edge of unleashing what he’d kept chained. 

He closed the distance between you in two strides, backing you against the wall with his body, not touching yet, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. His hands planted on either side of your head, caging you in, his face inches from yours. 

Those dark eyes bored into you, pupils dilated with obsession, his breath coming a touch quicker.

“You think I ignore you?” His voice was low, a growl edged with that controlled madness, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes – eyes that burned with possession. 

“Gods, woman, you’ve been driving me insane. I love you– obsess over you. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve jerked my cock to stop myself from bending you over the nearest surface?”

His words hit you like a wave, raw and unfiltered, his body pressing closer now, one hand sliding to your waist in a grip that was firm; unyielding. 

You opened your mouth to retort, frustration still sparking. “You could’ve just—” 

But he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours, the kiss fierce and demanding, his tongue sweeping in to claim every inch. 

It wasn’t gentle – it was a release, his obsession pouring out as he devoured you, one hand tangling in your hair to tilt your head back.

When he pulled away, both of you breathing hard, his forehead rested against yours, eyes wild. 

“No more waiting,” he murmured, voice husky with need. “You’re coming with me. Now.”

Before you could protest or process, he scooped you up effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carried you out of the study and down the dimly lit corridor to his private chambers. The palace was quiet at this hour, servants dismissed, leaving only the echo of his boots on the stone floor. 

He kicked the heavy door shut behind you, the sound final, and deposited you on the edge of the massive bed, its linens rumpled from his earlier retreat.

You glared up at him, heart pounding, a mix of anger and something hotter swirling in your chest. “You think you can just manhandle me like that? After ignoring me for months?”

Suguru’s eyes darkened, that slight craze sharpening as he loomed over you, shrugging off his outer robe to reveal the taut lines of his chest beneath a simple tunic. 

“Oh, I think I can.” He mused, his tone laced with something dark. “And I will. You’ve been a bratty little thing, haven’t you? Snapping at me like you don’t crave this as much as I do. But don’t worry, I’ll fix that attitude.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet and spinning you around with surprising gentleness despite the command in his movements. His hands worked quickly at the ties of your robes, peeling them away until you stood bare before him, the cool air raising goosebumps on your skin. 

You shivered, trying to twist back to face him, but his palm pressed between your shoulder blades, guiding you down onto the bed on all fours. 

“Stay.” He ordered, voice firm. “Ass up, like the needy wife you are.”

Heat flooded your face, frustration bubbling up as you shot a glare over your shoulder. “Needy? You’re the one who’s been—ah!”

The first spank landed sharp on your ass, the sting blooming into warmth that made you gasp. His hand soothed the spot immediately after, rubbing circles that contrasted the correction. 

“Watch that mouth.” He warned, though his voice held a thread of praise. “Such a pretty slut, thinking you can talk back to your emperor. But you’ll learn.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold onto the fire, but another spank followed, harder, jolting you forward. “Suguru, you can’t just—”

He tugged your hair then, pulling your head back gently but insistently, forcing you to arch as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear. “I can, and I will. You’ve teased me for months without knowing it. Now, spread those legs wider. Show me how wet you are from this.”

Defiance flickered, but so did desire, your body betraying you as you complied, thighs parting to reveal the slickness between them. 

Suguru groaned low in his throat, shedding the rest of his clothes until his hard cock sprang free, thick and veined, the tip already glistening. He positioned himself behind you, the head nudging your entrance, teasing without entering. 

“Look at you, dripping for it. Such a good girl under all that attitude, aren’t you? Or do I need to spank this greedy pussy to remind you?”

You pushed back against him, bratty even now. “Just put it in already, or are you all talk?”

His chuckle was dark, obsessed, as he yanked your hair again, the pull sending sparks down your spine. 

“Eager wifey.” He murmured, degradation mixing with the way his free hand praised by stroking your hip. “But you’ll beg properly soon.”

With one thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching your walls around his girth.The sensation was overwhelming – full, burning, perfect – and your attitude shattered in an instant. 

A moan tore from your throat, your arms buckling as you melted beneath him, body going pliant, obedient. No more fight; just surrender to the cock that filled you so completely.

Suguru stilled, buried deep, his hand releasing your hair to grip your hips instead. 

“There it is…” He teased, voice smug as he rocked shallowly, letting you feel every inch. “One push of my cock, and the brat disappears. Look at you, melting like the cockdrunk wife you were meant to be. So obedient now, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You whimpered, nodding into the sheets, the words hitting harder than any spank. “Y-Yes... please, Suguru...”

He laughed softly, starting a slow rhythm, pulling out almost to the tip before sliding back in, dragging against your inner walls. Each thrust built the pressure, his hands roaming: one spanking your ass lightly now, more for emphasis than punishment, the other tugging your hair to keep your back arched. 

“That’s better. My perfect little whore, taking it so well. You’ve been begging for this without words, haven’t you? Strutting around, making my cock ache every night.”

The pace quickened gradually, his hips snapping forward with precision, the slap of skin on skin filling the chamber. 

You pushed back to meet him, lost in the drag of his length, the way he hit that spot deep inside over and over. Dialogue flowed between thrusts, his voice a constant tease. 

“Tell me how it feels, wife. Does my cock shut that smart mouth of yours?”

You tried to respond sassily at first, the remnants of frustration lingering. “It– it’s good, but you could—oh fuck—go harder...”

Another thrust, sharper, making your ass jiggle and your pussy clench tighter around him. 

“Harder? Greedy– n-ngh, greedy brat.” He growled, tugging your hair to pull you up slightly, his chest pressing to your back. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t talk back if you don’t learn to beg f’me.”

“Please,” you gasped, the word breaking free as pleasure coiled tight. “Harder, please, Suguru...”

He obliged, pounding into you with relentless force, his cock bulging your belly slightly with each deep plunge – you could feel it, the outline pressing against your skin from inside. 

“Good girl.” He cooed, dragging out each syllable in an almost childish manner. “Look at that – my cock reshaping your pretty pussy. You’re mine now, all mine.”

The first orgasm crashed over you without warning, walls fluttering wildly as you cried out, soaking his length with your release. 

But he didn’t stop, thrusting through it, his hand slipping around to rub your clit in firm circles. “Holy shit.” He murmured, obsessed edge in his voice. “Cum again for me, show me how much you need this.”

You were a mess, babbling incoherently as he dragged it out, the overstimulation making your thighs quake. “Suguru—ah!—too much... can’t...”

“You can.” He commanded, spanking once more for good measure, the sting pushing you higher. “Be my lovely wife and cum on your– mmf, your emperor’s cock.”

The second climax built slower, deeper, his pace varying: slow grinds that let you feel the belly bulge, then fast snaps that had you seeing stars. 

When it hit, you squirted, gushing around him in hot spurts that drenched the sheets, your body convulsing as you wailed his name.

Suguru groaned, his control fraying. “Fuck, yes—take it all.” 

With a final, brutal thrust, he came, flooding your pussy with thick ropes of cum, his hips jerking as he painted your insides white. 

He stayed buried, grinding to push it deeper, whispering, “Gonna breed you, fill you up until you’re swollen with my child. My pretty girl, carrying my heir.”

He pulled out slowly after, cum leaking from you, but he wasn’t done. 

Flipping you onto your back with ease, he settled between your thighs in missionary, sliding back in with a wet squelch. Your legs hooked around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer as he loomed over you, eyes locked on yours: wild, loving, crazed.

Now, with him face-to-face, the teasing shifted.

You were fully cockdrunk, mind hazy, body pliant as he rocked into you languidly at first, letting the sensitivity build anew. 

“Look at you,” he cooed, mixed praise dripping from his lips. “So fucked out already, but still greedy for more. Pussy milking me like it never wants me to leave.”

You nodded hazily, not really processing, just agreeing on instinct. “Uh-huh... more...”

He chuckled, low and affectionate, thrusting deeper to emphasize the belly bulge again, his hand pressing on it. “That’s right, just agree. You’re not even listening, are you? Too cockdrunk to think, huh?”

“Mmh, yeah.” You murmured, eyes half-lidded, lost in the sensation as he picked up speed. 

Conversation turned to moans and affirmatives from you, while he teased relentlessly. “Such a good girl now, no more brattiness. Just my pliant girl, taking every inch. Gonna cum inside again, ’kay?”

The rhythm dragged on, his cock stirring his previous load inside you, the slick sounds obscene. 

He kissed you deeply, swallowing your whimpers, then trailed bites down your neck as he angled to hit your g-spot. “Feel that? Yeah? Tell me you’re mine, sweetheart.”

“I’m yours…!” You breathed, the words automatic, mind adrift in bliss. 

He laughed again, the sound vibrating through you. “Damn right you are. Fucked so stupid, aren’t you? But you love it.”

The final orgasm built like a tidal wave, shared this time. Your walls clamped down, squirting weakly around him as you shattered, crying out. 

Suguru followed seconds later, groaning as he emptied another load, hips stuttering. “Hngh, fuck! Take it…!”

Spent, he eased out, but instead of collapsing, he kissed down your body, settling between your legs. “Gonna clean you up.” He promised, voice soft now, obsessed tenderness shining through. 

His tongue lapped at your folds, gathering the mix of cum and your juices, sucking gently on your clit until you twitched oversensitive. 

“M’kay…” You mumbled, too tired to do anything but agree, especially when he talked so sweetly.

He hummed approval, delving deeper, fucking you with his tongue to scoop out his seed. “Can’t let it go to waste. Taste so good mixed with me.”

You carded fingers through his hair, boneless, as aftershocks rippled. 

When he finished, he crawled up, pulling you into his arms. Your bodies tangled, his chest to your back, hand splayed possessively over your stomach. 

“Sleep now, my love.” He whispered, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “Won’t avoid you anymore.”

Exhaustion claimed you both, drifting off in a cocoon of warmth, the months of distance forgotten in the intimacy you’d finally claimed.

a/n: can you guys tell when i started rushing this.. i also tried to get fancy i dont know if it worked i just hope you guys like it..

dividers by @/uzmacchiato!

[kneelforgeto]

Oh good lord. Yes Suguru Geto! I'm drunk on you I will say yes to anything 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

[lemxnns]

LEOPARD!NANAMI HEADCANONS!

── synopsis .✦ snippets of your life with your loving and potentially obsessed hybrid lover, nanami kento. these are setting up for a potential future fic!

── contains .✦ leopard!nanami, soft!nanami, fem!reader, fluff, nsfw below the cut, soft sex, lazy sex, possessive and protective nanami, mdni!

── word count .✦ 835!

Leopard!Nanami will never voice his frustration, but his hybrid characteristics will give him away. You notice it before anyone else does.

Kento is listening to a report, expression neutral, glasses catching the light. But his ears flick once, then again, just barely. His tail, usually held in disciplined stillness behind him, curls inward and twitches sharply.

You lean closer, his coffee eyes sliding over to you as you near him. “Hey, Ken. Long day?”

Something eases in his shoulders at the sound of your voice, and his ears shift in your direction as if to pick up your voice impossibly clearer and let it grace him for a moment longer. “…Yeah.” He admits.

Later, when the room clears, you reach up without asking and smooth your fingers over the soft, spotted ears which hide in his thick blonde hair. The ears are pinned now. Fatigue, irritation, maybe both.

Kento exhales, slow and controlled. He finally allows himself full relaxation once he knows you’ve got him, and his frame releases all of the tension from the day.

“You always notice,” He points out, not accusing. Almost grateful.

“I like knowing.” You reply.

He doesn’t pull away.

Leopard!Nanami, who’s possessiveness just shines through that extra bit whenever the pair of you are in public.

The platform hums with noise. Footsteps, announcements, too many conversations overlapping into static.

Kento positions himself near you without asking. Not in front, not behind, but beside; close enough that your sleeves brush when the crowd shifts.

When the train pulls in, he moves first, one hand resting at your back, never pressing unless the crowd surges. His presence is solid, anchoring. You feel it even when you’re not touching.

Inside the carriage, the air is warm and close. Kento lifts his arm to grip the rail above you, shoulder brushing yours as the train lurches forward. His tail curves around to curl around your waist, resisting the urge to hiss at the closest person for even breathing near you.

“You’re hovering, Ken.” You murmur, teasing.

“I’m aware.” He replies, unbothered. His gaze flicks down to you, steady and unashamed. “I find it preferable to remain close to you, sweetheart.” 

The words are simple. The meaning isn’t.

Leopard!Nanami, who returns home weary from the day but lights up at the sight of you waiting in bed, his spotted ears perking as he sheds his jacket and joins you under the covers. 

He pulls you close, his tail curling loosely around your waist like a warm embrace, the soft fur tickling your skin as he nuzzles your neck. 

His lips find yours in a slow, lingering kiss, tongue tracing your mouth with gentle insistence, while his hand slides under your shirt to caress your breast, thumb brushing your nipple until it hardens. 

“Missed this” He murmurs against your lips, his purr starting low in his chest as he shifts to hover over you, cock hardening against your thigh. 

“Missed you too.” You whisper softly, giggling when his ears twitch and adjust to pick up what you said.

He enters you with careful ease, hips rocking in unhurried rhythm, filling your pussy inch by inch as his mouth claims your collarbone with feather-light bites. 

The pace stays tender, his growls softening to sighs as you clench around him, both of you reaching release in quiet waves, his cum warming you inside as he holds you tight, tail stroking your back in soothing patterns.

Leopard!Nanami, who wakes you with lazy kisses trailing from your shoulder to your jaw, his golden eyes half-lidded with sleep and affection as sunlight filters through the curtains. 

“G’morning.” You beam once you’ve woken up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

His tail drapes over your hip, the tip idly brushing your inner thigh, sending gentle shivers through you as he spoons behind, his arousal pressing firm against your ass.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He rumbles, nuzzling impossibly further into your neck and rubbing, as if to leave his scent.

He turns you to face him, capturing your lips in a deep, exploratory kiss, his hand wandering down to cup your pussy, fingers dipping into your wetness with slow circles on your clit. 

“Stay with me a little longer.” He whispers, voice husky yet soft, guiding his cock to your entrance and sliding in smoothly, the stretch delicious and unhurried. 

“Mmh, okay…” You trail off, mewling prettily when pushes another inch into your syrupy cunt. 

He thrusts gently, bodies moving in sync like a shared dance, his purr vibrating against your chest as he nips your earlobe playfully. 

Pleasure builds gradually, your moans muffled by his mouth, until orgasm washes over you both – his release spilling deep with a contented rumble, leaving you tangled together, his tail wrapping around your leg to keep you near.

And in Leopard!Nanami’s arms, you know you can rest easy, because you don’t think there’s a universe where he isn’t as devoted to your being and essence as he is in this life.

a/n: this was actually really fun to write i genuinely might have to write a fic for this in the near future. feel free to leave asks/comments on what you might like to see!!!

art by @/thatsallitchief on x!

dividers by @/bhavihelps!

[kneelforgeto]

Aughhhhhh my... My puthy maysyvhn boiiii🥺

[lemxnns]

BF!YUJI X LONER!GF TEXTS

── synopsis .✦ texts between you and your boyfriend, itadori yuji!

── contains .✦ bf!yuji, loner!gf, fem!reader, fluff, yuji is a cutie, mix of instagram and messages!, yuji is a bit dumb (canon)

a/n: i promised yuji smau so here we are. i love my husband siigghhh if he sees this i love you

dividers by @/222luvr

[kneelforgeto]

This😭😭is so😭😭😭😭cute😭😭😭😭😭😭

[lemxnns]

NOT A KID ANYMORE!

── synopsis .✦ as gojo’s little sister, you’ve always been part of the dynamic between him and his long-haired best friend. growing up, that familiarity slowly turns into something else, and suguru geto becomes harder to ignore. after years of unspoken tension and lingering looks, you decide you’re done waiting and finally take matters into your own hands. it’s time to get into his pants!

── contains .✦ brothers bsf!geto, gojos little sister!reader, fem!reader, reader wears more feminine clothes (skirts and such), teasing, manhandling, degrading?, praise kink, small age gap, almost getting caught, orgasm denial, hand gag, suguru has a happy trail, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, creampies, aftercare, rough sex, suguru TRIED to be respectful but then reader dropped hints so he locked in

── word count .✦ 3.6k!

The summer sun filtered through the half-drawn blinds of the Gojo family living room, casting lazy stripes of light across the worn wooden floor. 

You had always loved this house: its creaky stairs, the faint scent of your mother’s jasmine perfume lingering in the air, and the constant hum of your brother Satoru’s laughter echoing from somewhere in the depths of the home. 

But lately, it felt different. Charged, somehow, with an undercurrent you couldn’t quite name.

Suguru Geto had been a fixture in your life for as long as you could remember. He and Satoru had met in elementary school, two boys with boundless energy and a knack for getting into trouble that somehow always ended with them unscathed and grinning. 

Suguru was the quieter one, the counterbalance to Satoru’s wild exuberance. Tall even back then, with his dark hair tied back in a neat bun and those sharp, thoughtful eyes that seemed to see right through the chaos. 

You, as the little sister tagging along on their adventures, had idolised him in that innocent, childhood way. He’d ruffle your hair, call you ‘kid’ with a soft smile, and make sure you didn’t get left behind during their escapades in the neighborhood parks or late-night video game marathons.

Years passed like pages in a well-loved book. High school came and went, and now you were all in your early twenties. 

Satoru had thrown himself into his career, whatever mysterious job it was that kept him traveling and coming home with stories too outlandish to believe. 

Suguru, ever the steady one, had stuck around closer to home, pursuing his own path in education or something equally grounded – though he never talked much about it. He still came over regularly, crashing on the couch after hangouts with Satoru, or joining family dinners when your parents insisted.

It was during one of those dinners that Suguru first really noticed the shift. You were setting the table, moving with a casual grace that hadn’t been there before. 

The short skirt you wore swished against your thighs as you bent to place plates down, the fabric hugging your hips just enough to draw the eye. Paired with a tight cardigan over a fitted top that accentuated the curve of your waist, it was nothing outrageous, but it was... different. 

You weren’t the gangly kid anymore. You were a woman, blooming in ways that made his chest tighten unexpectedly.

He shook it off, of course. Blamed it on the heat of the evening, or the way the light played tricks. 

Satoru was right there, cracking jokes about the overcooked rice, oblivious as ever. Suguru forced a laugh, focusing on his plate, but his gaze flickered back to you more than once. 

You’re Satoru’s sister, he reminded himself firmly. Off-limits. Always have been.

The next time Suguru saw you was a week later, at a casual barbecue in the backyard. Satoru had dragged him over after a long day, insisting on beers and grilled meat to unwind. The air was thick with the smoky scent of charcoal, and laughter rang out as neighbors mingled. 

The family reunion was in full swing, the backyard transformed into a bustling hive of activity under the late summer sun. 

Tables groaned under platters of grilled meats, fresh salads, and desserts that your aunts had spent hours perfecting. Laughter and chatter filled the air, mingling with the sizzle of the barbecue and the distant hum of children playing tag on the lawn. 

Your extended family had gathered – cousins, uncles, aunts, and even a few distant relatives you hadn’t seen in years – all crammed into the space around the Gojo house. Satoru was at the center of it all, of course, regaling everyone with exaggerated tales from his latest trip, his voice booming over the crowd.

You moved through the throng with purpose, your shortest skirt: a flimsy black number that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs swishing with every step. Beneath it, a thin thong hugged your skin, the fabric already a deliberate choice for the day. 

You’d had enough of Suguru’s endless hesitation, the way he’d pull back just when things felt electric, his eyes darkening with want only to cloud over with guilt moments later. No more subtle hints, no more accidental brushes. 

Today, you’d make him see; make him know.

Suguru was there, as always, leaning against the porch railing with a beer in hand, his dark hair loose for once, framing his sharp features. 

He looked relaxed on the surface, chatting with your uncle about some sports team, but his gaze tracked you the moment you stepped into view. You felt it like a touch, heavy and intent, as you helped your mom carry out a tray of iced tea.

The afternoon dragged on in a haze of greetings and small talk. You played the perfect hostess, smiling and laughing, but your mind was fixed on him. 

Every time you passed close, you’d let your hip graze his side, or lean in to whisper something innocuous about the food, your breath warm against his ear. He responded with tight nods, his jaw clenching, but still that flicker of doubt in his eyes. 

Frustration bubbled under your skin. However, opportunity struck when Satoru roped your cousins into an impromptu game of volleyball on the grass. The net was up in seconds, and the family divided into teams, cheers erupting as the ball flew. 

You volunteered to fetch more drinks from the outdoor cooler near the porch, positioning yourself right in Suguru’s line of sight. 

He was still by the railing, half-watching the game, but his attention snapped to you as you bent over the cooler, the skirt riding up deliberately high.

The fabric inched upward, exposing the full curve of your ass, the thin strip of your thong visible between your cheeks, barely covering anything. You lingered there, rummaging slowly, pretending to search for the perfect bottle, knowing exactly what you were showing off. 

The air felt charged, the distant shouts of the game fading as you straightened just enough to glance back over your shoulder.

Suguru’s eyes were locked on you, wide for a split second before narrowing with something dark and hungry. You caught his stare, holding it, then winked: mischievous, bold, a silent your move. 

His grip tightened on the beer bottle, knuckles whitening, and you saw the shift: the doubt cracking, replaced by a cocky tilt to his lips, his posture straightening as if a weight had lifted.

You turned away with a sway in your hips, carrying the drinks back to the tables, heart pounding. 

From that moment, Suguru changed. 

The hesitation evaporated, replaced by a brazen confidence that sent thrill racing through you. He sauntered over during a lull in the game, sliding up beside you as you arranged napkins on a table. His hand brushed your lower back, deliberate and possessive, under the guise of reaching for a plate.

“Looking good out here, sweetheart.” He murmured, voice low enough for only you to hear, but laced with that new edge. The endearment rolled off his tongue like he’d been saying it forever, smooth and teasing.

You glanced up, feigning innocence. “Just helping out. You enjoying the party?”

His eyes dipped to your skirt, then back up, a smirk playing on his lips. “More than I thought I would. Especially with you bending over like that. Careful, or someone might get the wrong idea.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, but you held his gaze, the flirtation hanging thick between you. 

Across the yard, your aunt called for more chairs, oblivious, and Satoru was too busy spiking the volleyball to notice. Their closeness – years of Suguru being like an extra brother – made it easy for the family to overlook the undercurrent, chalking it up to friendly banter.

As the sun dipped lower, casting golden light over the gathering, Suguru stuck close. He pulled out a chair for you at the main table, his fingers lingering on your shoulder as you sat. 

“After you, sweetheart.” He said, louder this time, drawing a chuckle from your dad who was nearby.

“Always the gentleman, Suguru.” Your father deduced, clapping him on the back. “Good to have you around.”

Suguru grinned, sliding into the seat beside you, his thigh pressing firmly against yours under the table. “Wouldn’t miss it. Especially when the company’s this sweet.” His knee nudged yours, a secret promise, and you bit your lip to stifle a smile.

Dinner unfolded with toasts and stories, the family crowded around long tables lit by string lights. Suguru’s flirting grew bolder, his arm draping casually over the back of your chair, fingers occasionally grazing your neck. 

“Pass the salt, sweetheart?” He’d ask, his voice warm, eyes locked on yours with intent that made your pulse race. When you handed it over, his fingers brushed yours, holding the contact a beat too long.

Satoru, seated across from you both, pouted midway through a story. “You two keep leaving me out. What’s the secret?”

Suguru didn’t miss a beat, leaning in closer to you. “Just appreciating the view. Can’t blame a guy.” He winked at you, and Satoru laughed it off, shaking his head.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get too cozy. She’s still my little sister.” But there was no real warning in his tone – just the easy ribbing of lifelong friends. The family flowed around it, conversations overlapping, no one batting an eye at the shift.

You reveled in it, your body humming with anticipation. Every teasing word, every casual touch, built the tension like a storm. Suguru’s cockiness was intoxicating, his earlier doubts buried under layers of smug assurance. He knew now, really knew, and he wasn’t holding back.

As dusk settled and the party wound down, relatives began saying goodbyes, hugs and promises to visit exchanged under the porch light. 

The house quieted gradually, the backyard emptying as aunts bundled up leftovers and uncles loaded cars. Satoru helped with the cleanup, directing traffic with his usual energy, while your parents waved off the last guests.

You slipped away toward the house, the shortest skirt still clinging to your thighs, the thong a secret reminder of your earlier stunt. The corridor leading to your room was dim, lined with family photos and the soft glow of a nightlight. 

Footsteps echoed behind you, heavy and purposeful, and before you could reach your door, strong hands pinned you against the wall.

Suguru’s body pressed into yours, his chest solid against your back, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your hip. 

His breath was hot on your neck, voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. “What the hell was that today, huh? Bending over like you owned the place, showing off that pretty ass in nothing but a thong. You trying to kill me, sweetheart?”

You gasped, twisting slightly to meet his eyes, dark and intense in the low light. The hallway was silent, the family retreating to their rooms or the guest areas, but the risk hung heavy. 

“Maybe I was.” You confessed, defiant, your body arching back into him instinctively.

He chuckled, deep and rough, his free hand sliding down to cup your pussy through the skirt. His palm pressed firm, fingers tracing the outline of the thong, and he groaned softly when he felt the damp fabric. 

“Fuck, you’re soaked already. That little show got you this wet? Or was it me finally calling you out?”

The touch sent sparks up your spine, your thighs clenching around his hand. 

“Both.” You admitted, voice breathy. "You’ve been dancing around it for months. I had to make you see."

Suguru’s lips brushed your ear, teasing, rumbling. “Oh, I see now. Loud and clear.” 

He ground his palm against you once, eliciting a soft whimper, before pulling back just enough to spin you around. His mouth crashed onto yours, the kiss deep and demanding, tongue sweeping in to claim every inch. 

You melted into it, hands fisting his shirt, the wall cool against your back as his body pinned you firmer.

He broke away only when you both needed air, forehead resting against yours, eyes burning. “Your room. Now. Before someone hears us out here.”

You nodded, dazed, and he took your hand, leading you the few steps to your door. It clicked shut behind you, the lock turning with a soft snick. 

Your room was familiar: soft bed with rumpled sheets from the morning, posters on the walls, the faint scent of your perfume lingering. But with Suguru there, it felt charged, intimate.

He didn’t waste time, backing you toward the bed, his hands roaming: up your sides, over your hips, thumbs hooking under the skirt to tug it higher. 

“Been driving me crazy, you know that? Bending over, winking like a little tease. You wanted me to see, didn’t you? Wanted me to know how bad you wanted this.”

You nodded, breathless, as he pushed you down onto the mattress. 

The bed dipped under his weight as he followed, kneeling between your legs, his cock already straining against his pants. 

He hiked your skirt up fully, exposing the thong, fingers tracing the wet strip. “Look at this. Soaked through. All because you flashed me your ass in front of everyone? Naughty girl.”

“Suguru…” You whined, hips lifting toward his touch. The house was quiet, but every creak felt amplified, the walls thin enough that voices carried.

He smirked, cocky as ever, leaning down to kiss you again – slower this time, savoring, his tongue tangling with yours while his fingers slipped under the thong, brushing your slick folds. 

You moaned into his mouth, the sound pretty and needy, and he pulled back with a groan. “Shh, sweetheart. Family’s sleeping right down the hall. You wake them, and we stop. Got it?”

You bit your lip, nodding, but the ache between your legs was insistent. He peeled the thong down your thighs, tossing it aside, then worked his belt open, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. 

It sprang out, thick and hard, the tip already glistening. He stroked himself once, eyes on your pussy, then guided the head to your entrance, rubbing it through your wetness.

“Gonna fuck you now, ’kay?” He confirmed, voice a low rumble. “Be my good girl ’nd stay quiet, or you don’t get to cum.”

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, the stretch obscene: the wet squelch of your pussy taking him echoing in the quiet room. You gasped, back arching, the fullness overwhelming. 

He was big, filling you completely, and the slide was slick, your arousal easing the way. Halfway in, he paused, letting you adjust, his hand coming up to cover your mouth gently. 

“That’s it. Feel how wet you are for me? This pussy’s been begging for it.”

You nodded against his palm, eyes watering with the intensity, and he sank the rest of the way, bottoming out with a muffled grunt. The bed creaked softly under the movement, and he stilled, both of you breathing hard. 

Then he started thrusting – slow, deep rolls of his hips that made your walls clench around him, the squelches growing louder with each drag out and push in. Your moans were muffled by his hand, pretty little sounds that made his cock twitch inside you.

“Fuck, listen to that…” He whispered, lips brushing your ear as he leaned down, his free hand gripping your thigh to spread you wider. “Your pussy’s so loud, sucking me in like that. Been—haah, so tight—waiting for this, haven’t you?”

The words sent heat flooding through you, your hips bucking up to meet his. He kept the pace deliberate, not rushing, each thrust grinding against that spot inside that made stars burst behind your eyes. 

The obscene sounds filled the room: wet slaps of skin, the glide of his cock through your soaked pussy, and you whimpered, the pressure building fast.

“That’s right.” He cooed, nipping your earlobe, his hand firm but careful over your mouth. “Knew you wanted my cock, but you had to push it today, didn’t you? Bending over, showing me everything. My little tease, finally getting what she deserves.”

You were close, so close, your body tensing, pussy fluttering around him as the edge approached. But suddenly, a creak echoed from the hallway: footsteps, soft but unmistakable, someone padding toward the bathroom maybe, or checking on a noise. 

Suguru froze, buried deep inside you, his eyes snapping to the door. Your heart hammered, breath caught, the footsteps pausing just outside before continuing on.

The voices faded, but the interruption left you throbbing, tears pricking your eyes from the ache.

“See?” He whispered once safe, resuming with torturous slowness. “Nearly caught because you’re too noisy.”

You came undone then, the orgasm crashing over you without warning, your pussy fluttering around him, walls pulsing as waves of pleasure ripped through. 

Your thighs trembled, a muffled cry escaping against his palm, and he groaned low, thrusting through it, feeling every squeeze. “Good girl, cumming so pretty on my—shit, so good—cock. But quiet– don’t want Satoru hearing how his sister’s getting fucked in her own bed, hm?”

He didn’t stop, slowing only to let you ride it out, his hips circling to prolong the aftershocks. When your body relaxed slightly, he removed his hand, replacing it with his lips in a deep kiss, swallowing your gasps. 

“One down.” He murmured against your mouth, voice husky. “Think you can take more? Or are you already spent?”

“More…!” You pleaded, voice wrecked, hands clutching his shoulders. The risk made it hotter – the house silent, family asleep just rooms away, every noise a potential disaster. But you needed him, the cocky edge in his tone pushing you higher.

Suguru chuckled, pulling out almost fully before slamming back in, the squelch louder now with your fresh release coating him. “G– Greedy pussy. Look at you, clenching like you can’t get enough. You knew what you were doing, didn’t you? Teasing me until I couldn’t think straight– ngh!”

He picked up the pace just a fraction, thrusts deeper, the bed frame protesting with soft thuds. You bit your lip hard, stifling moans, but they slipped out – high and pretty, making him curse under his breath. 

“So fucking vocal…” He rumbled, hand returning to cover your mouth, thumb stroking your cheek. “Moaning like that... feels bad to—mmf, fuck—muffle you, sweetheart. But we can’t have anyone finding out how fuckin’ wet you’ve been for your brother’s best friend.”

The words twisted the knife of thrill, your second build coming faster, his cock hitting that spot relentlessly. He shifted, hooking your leg over his hip for a better angle, the new depth making you see white. “Yeah? You like that?”

You shattered again, harder this time, pussy spasming wildly around him, the squelches turning frantic as you gushed. “S– Suguru!”

Your thighs shook uncontrollably, nails digging into his back, and he followed moments later, burying deep with a stifled groan, cock pulsing as he cummed in you – hot spurts filling you up, leaking out around him.

He collapsed gently onto you, both panting, his hand slipping from your mouth to stroke your hair. “Shh, easy.” He soothed, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks, as your body trembled. 

His hands moved to your thighs, rubbing soothing circles over the shaking muscles, lips pressing soft kisses to the sensitive skin there. “So good for me. Cumming twice like that... my perfect girl.”

The afterglow settled slow, his cock softening inside you before he pulled out carefully, a wet sound accompanying the loss. Cum trickled out, and he grabbed a tissue from your nightstand, wiping you down tenderly – between your legs, your thighs – peppering kisses along your collarbone, your neck, the best he could without lingering too long. 

The house remained quiet, no footsteps, no voices, the danger passed for now.

“Get some rest, sweetheart.” He murmured, tucking the covers around you, his touch lingering on your hand. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He slipped out, door clicking shut behind him, leaving you sated and flushed in the dark, the ache of him still echoing through your body.

In the morning, the sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the kitchen where you sat nursing a cup of coffee, legs still a bit shaky from the night before. 

Suguru leaned against the counter nearby, looking annoyingly composed as he poured himself a mug, his dark hair tousled just right. You shot him a quick glance, cheeks heating at the memory of his body over yours, the way he'd muffled your cries and teased you mercilessly.

The back door swung open with a bang, and Satoru strode in, sunglasses perched on his head, a grin splitting his face that screamed trouble. 

Before anyone could greet him, his fist shot out, connecting with Suguru’s shoulder in a playful but firm punch that made the shorter man jolt.

“What the hell, man?” Suguru rubbed the spot, more amused than hurt, straightening up with a raised brow.

Satoru laughed, grabbing an apple from the bowl and taking a loud bite. “Heard some weird noises last night. Walls are thin, y’know.”

His eyes flicked to you, twinkling with mischief. “But nah, it was just my little sister getting railed by my best friend. Classy, guys. Real classy.”

Your face burned, coffee nearly spilling as you sputtered. “Satoru!”

He held up his hands, still chuckling. “Hey, hey, it’s not like I was looking! I was walking down the hall for a bathroom break, you pervs. Figured I’d let you finish up. Besides, Suguru’s a good guy; I trust him not to screw this up.”

Suguru smiled awkwardly. “Appreciate the vote of confidence.”

Satoru winked, tossing the apple core in the trash. “Just don’t make it a habit of keeping me up. Or do, I could use the entertainment.” He ruffled your hair on his way out, leaving you flustered and Suguru’s low chuckle rumbling against your side.

a/n: i reached flow state with this goodnight everyone see you whenever i feel like it also requests might open soon so get to thinking!!!!!!!

art by @/owwllly!

[kneelforgeto]

I saw, I came and I arrived. Now I can't stop thinkinmg about this I have to draw SOMETHING F4OM THIS IM FREAKING OUT THIS IS SO GOOD I CANT EVEN TYPE ANYMORE.

definitely a re-read. Jorks it a lot this time🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

[lemxnns]

⋆.𐙚 ̊ soft fucking with firefighter!sukuna (mdni!) - request!

The door to your shared apartment creaked open just past midnight, the faint scent of smoke and sweat trailing in behind Ryomen as he kicked off his heavy boots in the entryway. 

You heard the familiar thud from the bedroom, where you lay sprawled on your stomach across the king-sized bed, scrolling mindlessly through TikToks on your phone. The glow of the screen illuminated your face in the dim light of the bedside lamp, and you paused a video mid-dance, tilting your head toward the sound.

Ryomen, your towering firefighter boyfriend, moved like a shadow through the hallway. At 6’4” and built like a goddamn tank – broad shoulders straining against his rumpled uniform shirt, biceps that could crush steel – he was the epitome of raw power, honed from hauling hoses and breaking down doors all shift. 

But tonight, exhaustion clung to him like the grime on his skin. His pink hair was disheveled, tattoos peeking from his rolled-up sleeves, and those sharp crimson eyes softened just a fraction when he spotted you through the open door.

“Hey, baby.” He rumbled, voice low and gravelly from yelling orders over sirens all day.  He stripped off his jacket, tossing it over the chair, revealing the tight black t-shirt underneath that hugged every ridge of his abs and pecs. 

You bit your lip, already feeling that familiar heat pool low in your belly. God, he was huge everywhere. The way his muscles flexed with even the simplest movement made your thighs clench.

You set your phone down, rolling slightly to face him. “Long day?”

He grunted, unbuttoning his shirt with slow, deliberate fingers. 

“Fucking endless. Structure fire downtown. Pulled two idiots out of a third-floor window. My back’s killing me.” But despite the complaint, a smirk tugged at his lips as he drank you in, eyes raking over your body in those tiny sleep shorts and tank top. 

You were on your stomach again by the time he reached the bed, propped on your elbows, but he didn't say a word about it. Instead, he just collapsed onto the mattress behind you, the bed dipping under his weight.

His massive frame settled over yours without warning, not crushing, but enveloping – like a warm, heavy blanket made of pure muscle. You felt his chest press against your back, his thighs bracketing your legs, and that intoxicating dizziness washed over you. 

He was so big, so solid; it made your head spin in the best way, like the world narrowed to just the press of his body pinning you down. His breath ghosted hot against the nape of your neck as he nuzzled in, one arm draping lazily over your waist.

“Missed this.” He murmured, lips brushing your skin. 

His hand slid under your tank top, calloused palm splaying across your stomach, thumb tracing lazy circles. 

You arched instinctively, pushing back against him, feeling the hard line of his cock already thickening through his pants against your ass.

“Missed you…” You whispered, voice breathy. 

Your fingers itched to touch him, to feel those bulging biceps you'd been fantasizing about all evening. He was your personal obsession – the way his veins popped when he flexed, the sheer size of him making you feel tiny and cherished all at once.

Ryomen chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow to hover over you, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your shorts. 

“These in the way?” 

Without waiting for an answer, he hooked his fingers in and yanked them down, along with your panties, exposing your bare ass and the slick folds of your pussy to the cool air. You shivered, spreading your legs just a bit wider on instinct.

He paused, staring down at you like you were the only thing that mattered after his hellish shift. "Fuck, look at you. Already wet for me?" His voice was teasing, but there was that underlying hunger, the exhaustion making him crave this intimacy more than anything.

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck. “I– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He didn't need more invitation. With a low groan, he shoved his pants down just enough to free his cock – thick, veined, and fat – the head already beading with precum. 

It slapped heavy against your thigh as he positioned himself behind you, lining up with your entrance. You were on your stomach, legs trapped between his, utterly at his mercy in this prone position, and it thrilled you.

“Gonna bury myself in this tight little pussy,” he promised, voice dropping to a husky whisper. 

The tip nudged your folds, parting them slowly, obscenely wet sounds filling the room as he pushed in inch by inch. 

You gasped, fingers clutching the sheets, the stretch burning so good it made your toes curl. He was huge – splitting you open, filling you to the brim – and you loved every second of it.

Ryomen let out a deep sigh of relief as he sank deeper, bottoming out with a slow roll of his hips. "Ah, fuck, that's it. Lemme have this, baby." 

His weight settled fully on you now, pinning you to the mattress, his cock throbbing inside your clenching walls. It was dizzying, the pressure of his body, the way he surrounded you completely.

You moaned softly, arching your back to take him even deeper, your ass lifting impossibly higher against his pelvis. “Ryo… mmf! You're so big. F–Feels like you're everywhere.”

He laughed breathlessly, lips pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yeah? Like how I fill you up, baby?” 

His arm snaked around your neck – not tight, just a gentle headlock, his massive bicep cushioning your cheek like the softest pillow. You turned your face into it, grabbing onto the thick cord of muscle with both hands, squeezing as if to anchor yourself. 

The scent of him – smoke, sweat, and that underlying spice – filled your lungs, making you dizzy with need.

“So cute.” He teased, nipping at your earlobe. 

“Can’t help yourself, huh?” But his tone was soft, affectionate, the exhaustion melting away as he started to move. Not fast – never fast. Just deep, lazy thrusts, grinding his hips in slow circles that dragged his cock along every sensitive inch inside you.

You whimpered, the wet squelch of your pussy echoing with each grind. He was so deep like this, the angle hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. “Mhm, y-yeah, just like that—oh!—don't stop!”

His free hand roamed your body, pushing up your tank top to cup your breast, thumb flicking your nipple lazily. 

“Not stopping. Gonna take my time with you.” 

He kissed the side of your face again, then your jaw, peppering soft presses along your skin as he thrust in again: slow, loving, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. 

Your walls fluttered around him, arousal dripping down your thighs, making everything slick and obscene.

The rhythm built gradually, his hips rolling in unhurried waves. You could feel every vein, every ridge as he pulled back almost to the tip before sliding home again. 

Your moans grew prettier, higher-pitched, as the pleasure coiled tight in your core. “Ryo—oh god—you're so heavy on me.”

“Yeah? You like that? Good girl.” He murmured, tightening his headlock just enough to tilt your head back for a deeper kiss on your lips. 

Bicep flexing under your grip, you squeezed harder, turned on by the sheer power there. He sighed into your mouth, the sound pure relief, like sinking into you was the only thing erasing the day's chaos. “Feels like heaven. Your pussy's gripping me so tight– shit, baby, milkin’ my cock already.”

You arched further, ass pressing up to meet his grinds, the position making you feel so full, so claimed. The weight of him was intoxicating, pressing the air from your lungs in the best way, every lazy thrust sending jolts of pleasure radiating through you. 

Minutes stretched on, the slow pace dragging out the build-up, your clit throbbing against the sheets with each subtle shift.

“T-Tell me how it feels, sweetheart.” He demanded softly, voice laced with that teasing edge as he ground deeper, holding himself buried for a long moment.

“S’good!” You gasped, nails digging into his arm. “So thick... stretching me w– wide!” Your body trembled, the first orgasm creeping closer, but he kept it at bay with his unhurried movements – pulling out slow, pushing in slower, letting the slick sounds punctuate the quiet room.

He chuckled, kissing your cheek. “That's my girl. Cum for me when you're ready—ngh, fuck—gonna make it last.” Hand sliding down to where you joined, his fingers circled your clit in feather-light touches that had you keening. 

The combination was devastating: his massive cock grinding deep, his weight immobilizing you, that bicep cradling your face as you clung to it like a lifeline.

Time blurred as he worked you higher, thrusts turning into prolonged grinds that rubbed your g-spot relentlessly. Your moans filled the air, pretty and desperate, body arching as much as his hold allowed. 

“Ahn, please! I'm close! D-Don't move— just... mmh!"

“Shh, I got you– f-fuck...” He held still inside you, hips circling minutely, letting your pussy spasm around him. 

The orgasm hit like a slow wave, crashing over you in shuddering pulses. You cried out, walls clamping down on his cock, juices gushing out to soak his balls and the sheets below. 

He groaned low, feeling every flutter, but didn't speed up – just kissed your temple and whispered, “That's one. Shit, you're soaking me.”

You panted, body limp under him, but he didn't give you time to fully recover. 

With a lazy thrust, he started again, deeper now, the obscene wet slaps resuming as he chased his own pleasure while building yours anew. 

“Not done yet, baby. Want you—haah, yeah—cumming on my cock again.”

His arm stayed around your neck, bicep flexing as you grabbed it tighter, using it to muffle your whimpers. The dizziness intensified with his weight bearing down, every breath shared, every grind pulling you under. “So strong…” You slurred, voice hazy. “Love feeling all your muscles… so– ah! Ryo!”

“All yours,” He replied, nipping your earlobe. “This pussy's mine, though—gonna fill it up soon.” His thrusts remained loving, unhurried, each one dragging out the pleasure. He kissed along your jaw, soft and reverent, contrasting the filthy way his cock pistoned slowly into your dripping heat.

You arched your ass higher, meeting his rhythm, the position allowing him to hit even deeper. Your second climax built slower, more torturously, as he teased your clit with intermittent strokes. 

“Nhaah, I can feel you in my– in my stomach…”

He sighed again, burying his face in your hair. 

“Good. Would feel me every night if I—hck!—could.” 

The grinds turned firmer, but still lazy, his balls slapping gently against your clit with each roll. Your moans turned to pleas, body trembling as the coil tightened unbearably.

“C-Cum with me?” You begged, fingers bruising his bicep.

“Yeah? Hold on.” He picked up the pace just a fraction – still slow, but insistent – grinding deep while his fingers worked your clit faster. 

The pressure built, wave after wave, until you shattered again, pussy convulsing wildly around him. 

“Fuck—yes!” You keened, arching so prettily, ass grinding back as another orgasm ripped through you.

That did it for him. 

With a guttural moan, Ryomen thrust deep one last time, cock swelling as he came. Hot spurts of cum flooded your pussy, mixing with your wetness, the obscene overflow leaking out around him. 

He held you tight in that gentle headlock, bicep your pillow, as he rode out his release with lazy pumps, sighing in pure bliss. “Hngh– Take it all, baby... fuck, perfect.”

You both collapsed fully, his weight still dizzyingly perfect on top of you, cock softening inside but not pulling out. He peppered more kisses on your face, teasing softly. “Gonna greet me like this every night?”

You smiled, spent and sated, turning to kiss his bicep. “Shut up.” Then, after a pause, “Welcome home, Ryo.”

a/n: this made me feel things alright

[kneelforgeto]

I'm obsessed with the dynamic. Because if I had a big beefy boyfriend I too would simply act like a man would around women. Before fire fighter Sukuna I had never really encountered a soft Sukuna. I think this might just be the best version of him. I love how you write your characters. It's amazing

[lemxnns]

BIRTHDAY B★Y!

── synopsis .✦ telling your husband, toji fushiguro, that the pair of you can do anything he wants for his birthday ends badly when you forget just how dirty-minded he is. worse, he’s pent-up, tired, and has been taking mental notes every time you’ve teased him without meaning to. by the time you realise your mistake, he’s already decided that birthday plans are cancelled, rescheduled, and relocated entirely… and you’re the main event.

── contains .✦ fem!reader, pure smut with little/no plot, p in v, mating press, doggystyle, full nelson, multiple orgasms, creampies, squirting, teasing, degrading (brief), praise kink, breeding kink, strength kink, size kink, cockdrunk!reader, pussydrunk!toji, overstimulation, manhandling, rough sex, soft sex, marathons, mdni!

── word count .✦ 5.1k!

The dim light of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room, flickering just enough to highlight the sweat-slicked skin of Toji and you. 

It was his birthday, and you’d made it clear from the moment he walked through the door that tonight was all about him. 

“Anything you want.” You’d whispered against his lips, your hands already tugging at his shirt. His grin had been predatory, eyes darkening with that familiar hunger as he scooped you up without a word, carrying you straight to the bed.

Now, hours later - or was it minutes? Time blurred in the haze of relentless pleasure - Toji had you folded beneath him in a brutal mating press. 

His massive frame loomed over you, thighs pinning your legs back until your knees nearly touched your shoulders, exposing your dripping core completely. His thick cock, veined and unrelenting, speared deep into your pussy with every punishing thrust, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the room. 

You’d lost count of the rounds, each one bleeding into the next as he kept you locked in place, refusing to let up. Your body trembled, walls clenching around him in desperate, overstuffed spasms, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

“Fuck, look at you.” Toji rasped, his voice rough and breathless, chest heaving as he drove in deeper. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your collarbone, his dark hair slick against his forehead. 

He was a beast, muscles bulging with every grind of his hips, but even he was fraying at the edges - groans spilling from his lips unbidden, breath coming in sharp pants. “Takin’ my cock like a goddamn champ. Birthday gift ain’t—shit, so tight—bad, huh?”

You tried to respond, but the words slurred out in a pathetic whine, your mind fogged from the stretch of him filling you so completely. “Y-Yeah—mmh!—s’good, Toji…” 

Your head lolled back against the pillows, eyes half-lidded and glassy, every nerve ending alight with the burn of his girth dragging against your insides. 

Cockdrunk didn’t even cover it; you were utterly wrecked, reduced to a babbling mess hooked on the way he split you open.

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating through his chest as he shifted his weight, hooking his arms under your knees to press you even tighter. The angle let him bottom out harder, the fat head of his cock kissing your cervix with each slam. 

“Yeah? Tell me how much you love it. C’mon, baby, use that p–pretty mouth.” His teasing was merciless, but his own control was slipping - his thrusts grew erratic, hips stuttering as your pussy milked him greedily.

’Love it—fuck!—love your cock... shooo big...’ The syllables tumbled out sloppy and slow, your tongue heavy in your mouth. 

You could feel the slick mess between your thighs, his cum from the previous loads mixing with your arousal, leaking out around where he stuffed you full. It was obscene, filthy, and it only made you clench tighter, chasing that building pressure in your core.

Toji groaned, head dropping to nip at your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Shit, you’re squeezin’ me so tight. This—hnn, f–fuckin’ slut—this pussy’s got me fucked up.”

He was pussydrunk, addicted to the velvet heat gripping him, the way your walls fluttered and sucked him in like they never wanted to let go. He’d already cum once earlier, flooding you deep while you screamed through your first peak, but the sensation was too intoxicating to pull out. Why stop when it felt this good to keep pounding into you, to mark you inside out?

His pace quickened, hips snapping forward with brutal force, the bed creaking under the assault. You felt it coiling low in your belly again, that second orgasm creeping up faster than the first. 

“Toji..! Oh god, gonna- gonna cum!” Your voice cracked, slurring into a needy plea as your fingers scrabbled at his broad shoulders, nails digging into the flexing muscle.

“Y-Yeah? Cum on my dick then. Milk me dry, sweetheart.” He panted the words against your ear, his own breath ragged, groans punctuating each thrust. 

He hooked one hand around your thigh to hold you open wider, the other bracing beside your head as he rutted into you like an animal. The pressure built unbearably, your clit grinding against his pelvis with every plunge, sparks shooting up your spine.

It hit you like a freight train - your nth orgasm crashing over you, pussy convulsing wildly around his cock. You cried out, back arching as much as the position allowed, walls rippling in waves that tried to push him out even as they pulled him deeper. 

“Fuckfuckfuck! Ngh, s’good!” The words dissolved into incoherent babbles, your body shaking uncontrollably, juices squirting out around his shaft in messy spurts.

Toji hissed through his teeth, the tight spasms nearly undoing him right then. “Goddamn, that’s it... so fuckin’ wet for me.”

He didn’t slow, powering through your climax with gritted determination, his cock throbbing inside your spasming heat. Sweat poured down his back, muscles straining as he chased his own release, the drag of your pussy too perfect, too addictive to resist any longer.

“Can’t... fuck—gonna fill you up again.” He growled, voice breaking on a deep moan. 

His hips slammed forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he came, thick ropes of cum erupting from his tip to paint your insides white. He shuddered above you, groans turning guttural, body locking up as he pumped every drop into you. 

But even as the aftershocks wracked him, he didn’t pull out - couldn’t. The warmth of your pussy hugging him post-orgasm was heaven, and he was too far gone to stop now.

You whimpered beneath him, oversensitive and still slurring, “M–More... gimme more, pleaseee…” Your mind was a haze, cockdrunk haze sharpening every sensation, making you crave the burn despite the ache.

Toji lifted his head, smirking through his labored breaths, eyes dark with lust. 

“More? Greedy little thing. Thought you said I get to pick tonight.” He rolled his hips experimentally, stirring his fresh load inside you, the lewd squelch making you both groan. He was still hard - impossibly so - his stamina a weapon as he started thrusting again, slower at first to build the rhythm back up.

The position kept you pinned, helpless to do anything but take it, your legs trembling from the strain. “Toji, s’ too much... but don’ stop!” The words came out mushy, your lips parting on a gasp as he picked up speed, the friction reigniting that fire in your core.

“Gotta pick one, ma.” He teased, voice husky and strained. 

Another groan escaped him as your pussy clenched in response, still fluttering from your last high. He was addicted beyond reason, the slick glide of your combined releases making each slide smoother, deeper.

Adjusting his grip, one large hand splayed across your lower belly to feel the bulge of his cock moving inside you. The pressure made you keen, hips bucking weakly against him. 

“Feel that? That’s me, ownin’ this sweet—mmf—pussy. All mine tonight.” His teasing drew a slurred moan from you, your responses devolving further into needy sounds.

“Y–Yours..! All yours– ah, harder!” You were lost in it, the world narrowing to the thick length pistoning in and out, stretching you to your limits. Every withdrawal left you empty and whining, every plunge filled you to bursting.

Toji obliged, grunting with effort as he folded you tighter, his thighs pressing your legs back until your ass lifted off the bed. The new angle let him hit that spot inside you relentlessly, sparks exploding behind your eyes. “Like that?”

“Like it... love it... Toji, please!” Slurred and desperate, your voice broke on his name, fingers tangling in the sheets as the pleasure bordered on pain.

He was breathing harder now, chest rising and falling rapidly, but his eyes burned with that unyielding hunger. “Good girl. Keep talkin’ dirty f’me.” 

Another deep thrust, and you felt the coil tightening again, even though you’d just cum. The continuous motion kept you on the edge, body hypersensitive and craving more.

The room filled with the sounds of your union: the wet smack of his balls against your ass, your shared pants and moans, the creak of the mattress protesting under his weight. Toji’s hand slid up to pinch your nipple, rolling it roughly between his fingers, drawing a sharp cry from your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so responsive, ma. This body’s made for my cock.” He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a messy kiss, tongues tangling as he swallowed your slurred whimpers. His groans vibrated into you, betraying how close he was to the edge again, but he held back, savoring the drag of your walls.

You broke the kiss with a gasp, head thrashing. “G–Gonna cum again, ’Ji!” The words were barely coherent, but he understood, hips snapping faster, chasing your pleasure to fuel his own addiction.

“Cum f’me, pretty girl. Wanna feel you—nhh—soak my dick.” His voice was wrecked, breath hot against your skin as he pounded into you, the pressure building to a fever pitch.

It shattered you - your body seizing in ecstasy, pussy clamping down like a vice as waves of bliss rolled through you. You screamed his name, or tried to, the sound garbled and raw, squirting around him in hot gushes that soaked his groin. Stars burst in your vision, limbs going limp in his hold.

Toji cursed, the vice-like grip pushing him over despite his earlier release. “Shit—fuck!” 

He buried deep, cumming hard once more, but this one felt even more intense, his cock pulsing as he flooded you anew. Groans tore from his throat, body trembling as he rode it out, hips grinding to wring out every spurt.

But he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. As the high faded, he kept moving, slow and deep, stirring the creamy mess inside you. 

“One more round.” He panted, voice thick with need. “Can’t get enough of this pussy.”

You nodded weakly, slurring, “Don’ have t’stop... ’s your birthday…” Your mind floated, cockdrunk and sated yet hungry, as he built the pace again.

Toji’s arms trembled slightly from the exertion, but his strength never wavered—that raw, unyielding power that always made your pulse race. With a low grunt, he slid his hands under your thighs, gripping the soft flesh firmly. 

“Up you go.” He murmured, voice rough from the strain. 

In one fluid motion, he lifted you off the bed, your legs still hooked over his arms as he stood, his cock never leaving the tight clasp of your pussy. The sudden change in position made you gasp, the new depth hitting different, his tip nudging deeper into your oversensitive walls. 

You clung to his shoulders, nails scraping over the sweat-dampened skin, but he held you steady, biceps flexing like steel cables.

“W–What’re you…” You questioned, the words tumbling out in awe, your head dropping to his chest as he adjusted his hold. The power he had over you made him smirk, a flash of white teeth in the dim light, and he bounced you lightly on his length, testing the angle.

“Just hold on a minute, ma.” His breath was hot against your ear, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other hooked under your knee, keeping you spread wide. But he wasn’t done repositioning. “C’mere.”

With a shift of his weight, he turned you effortlessly, your back pressing to his broad chest as he locked his arms behind your head in a full nelson. Your elbows were pinned, arms useless above you, your body suspended and exposed, legs dangling apart with his cock still buried to the hilt. 

The stretch was immediate and intense - your pussy forced open around his girth, the position leaving you completely at his mercy. Gravity pulled you down harder onto him, every inch of his thick shaft grinding against your insides as he held you aloft.

“Toji— o–oh...” You whimpered, the mixing of words thicker now, your voice breaking on the vulnerability of it all. 

Being held like this, folded and controlled by his sheer power, sent a rush of heat through you. His muscles bulged against your skin, the veins in his forearms standing out as he kept you locked in place, and you could feel the controlled strain in his body, the way he breathed steadily despite the effort.

He chuckled darkly, the sound rumbling through his chest into your back. “Look at you, all folded up and helpless. This what you wanted me t’have for my birthday? Me usin’ you like—haah, stop t–tightenin’ up—a fucktoy?” 

His hips rolled upward experimentally, the motion lifting you slightly before letting you sink back down, his cock dragging slow and deliberate along your walls. The fullness was overwhelming, your clit exposed to the air, ass brushing against his pelvis with each subtle thrust.

“Y-Yeah, so strong…” The words came out mushy, laced with that cockdrunk haze, but the sincerity shone through. Your body trembled in his grip, the position keeping you arched, breasts thrust forward, every nerve attuned to the power radiating from him.

Toji groaned, the vibration traveling straight to your core. He was gone too, the way your slick heat enveloped him from this angle too perfect to ignore. 

“Shit, you’re tight like this. Grippin’ me so good, baby.” He started moving then, not rushing, just a steady rhythm - lifting you an inch or two with his arms before dropping you back onto his cock, the wet slide echoing in the room. His thighs flexed beneath you, absorbing the impact, his free hand occasionally drifting to squeeze your hip or pinch your nipple, drawing out sharp gasps.

The pace was torturously slow at first, each descent letting you feel the veined length of him parting your folds, the head catching on that sensitive ridge inside before plunging deeper. You could hear his breaths coming heavier, controlled grunts punctuating the air as he worked you up and down. 

“Y’feel me? Every fuckin’ inch stretchin’ you out.” He nuzzled into your neck, teeth grazing the skin, his stubble scraping roughly.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as the sensations built gradually. “So deep... Toji, you’re—u–ugh!—fillin’ me up!” Dizzy and needy, your voice cracked, body rocking with his movements. 

The full nelson amplified everything - your immobility making you hyperaware of his strength, the way his arms didn’t budge no matter how you squirmed. It turned you on fiercely, that kink igniting as you imagined him tossing you around like this for hours.

He picked up the tempo just a fraction, hips thrusting up to meet your downward slide, the slap of your ass against his groin growing rhythmic. Cum from his previous loads leaked out with each withdrawal, trickling down his balls, but he didn’t care - thrusting back in to push it deeper. 

His hand released your neck to slide between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow, firm circles that matched his pace. “Not rushin’ this, pretty baby. Wanna enjoy my present.”

The dual stimulation had you moaning steadily, the pressure coiling low but not cresting yet - he was dragging it out, savoring the build. You tried to grind down harder, but the position left you powerless, dependent on his control. 

“Pl—ah, fuck! Can’t– can’t think when y–you do that…” You babbled, fixated on the flex of his biceps against your ears, the unyielding hold that screamed dominance.

Toji’s response was a ragged groan, his cock twitching inside you at the praise. “Fuck, you love this shit, don’t ya? Me holdin’ you open ’nd fuckin’ you senseless.”

He bounced you higher now, the lift more pronounced, letting gravity do the work on the drop - your pussy swallowing him whole each time, walls fluttering around the invasion. Sweat slicked the connection between your bodies, his chest heaving against your back as he maintained the position without faltering.

Minutes stretched, the room filled with the obscene sounds of your joining - the squelch of his cock plunging into the messy heat, your slurred whimpers, his deepening pants. He varied the rhythm, sometimes holding you still to grind deep, circling his hips to stir you from the inside, the fat head of his dick pressing insistently against your cervix. Other times, he’d thrust shallowly, teasing your entrance before slamming home, drawing out cries that dissolved into nonsense.

“Keep talkin’.” He demanded breathlessly, fingers pressing harder on your clit, rolling it with precise pressure. “Tell me how much you need this dick in you.”

“Need it s’much, ’Ji! I need you… need you so bad, I– I can’t—.” The words spilled out in a haze, your mind lost to the sensation of being utterly possessed. Your legs kicked weakly in the air, toes curling as the pleasure simmered, building layer by layer without mercy.

He growled in approval, the sound primal, and shifted his stance wider for better leverage. Now he was truly powering through, lifting you fully off him before impaling you again. His muscles burned - you could feel the tension in his arms, the subtle tremor of effort that only made your cunt impossibly wetter. 

He was a machine, tireless, his cock throbbing with each descent, veins pulsing against your clenching walls.

“That’s it, take it all. This pussy’s m–mine to wreck.” His voice was strained, groans slipping out as your heat milked him relentlessly. 

He leaned forward slightly, changing the angle so his thrusts hit that spongy spot inside you dead-on, sparks igniting with every pass. But he kept it measured, drawing out the friction, letting the tension wind tighter without snapping.

Your body responded on instinct, inner muscles rippling around him, chasing more despite the ache. “I forget how big you—mm—how you feel…” Slurring turned to outright babbling, your breaths syncing with his as the coil in your belly tightened incrementally. His fingers on your clit slowed, teasing now—light flicks that kept you hovering on the edge, the position ensuring you couldn’t do a thing but endure the torment.

He nipped at your shoulder, teeth sinking in just enough to mark. ’Not yet. Wanna feel you beggin’ first.’ Another deep grind, holding you seated fully, his pelvis flush against yours, pubic bone grinding your clit indirectly. The pressure was exquisite, building that fire without quenching it, his strength the anchor keeping you suspended in bliss.

“Feels too good… can’t– don’t stop… please, Toji— don’t—” You whined, every flex of his arms sending jolts straight to your cunt. He was everywhere: surrounding you, controlling you, his power a tangible force that amplified the pleasure tenfold.

Satisfied with your pleas, he resumed the thrusts, faster now but still controlled, each drop letting you feel the stretch anew. The room spun in your vision, the continuous motion turning your limbs to jelly. His groans grew louder, breath hot and erratic against your neck, betraying how the tight squeeze was fraying his edges too. 

“Fuck, stop squeezin’ me, ma… hngh—gonna make me lose it.” But he held on, dragging it out further - thrusting in short, sharp bursts that kept the rhythm unpredictable, then slowing to long, languid slides that let you savor the drag. 

His hand abandoned your clit to grip your thigh instead, spreading you wider, the nelson tightening to arch your back more. Fingers dug into your flesh, bruises forming under his touch, a reminder of his dominance.

The build was agonizingly slow, pleasure layering until it bordered on overwhelming. You could feel every ridge of him, the way his cock pulsed with his heartbeat, the slick glide eased by the mess between you. 

“Ahn, Toooji! Can’t hold it..!” Your voice was a wrecked slur, body tensing in his unyielding arms.

“Yeah you can. Wait for me.” He panted, hips snapping up harder, the impacts jolting through you and causing your tits to bounce. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of teasing thrusts and grinding holds, the dam broke. Your orgasm crashed over you in shuddering waves, pussy convulsing around his cock in rhythmic squeezes, juices flooding out to coat his length. 

You cried out, the sound garbled and raw, back bowing in the nelson as ecstasy ripped through you. “Toji! Yes—fuck!”

The spasms pushed him over, his third release hitting hard. “Shit—takin’ it all…” 

He buried deep, hips jerking as hot spurts filled you again, groans vibrating against your skin. His arms locked tighter, holding you impaled through the pulses, refusing to let the connection break.

But even as you both trembled in the aftershocks, he didn’t set you down right away. His arms, still locked in the full nelson, held you suspended a moment longer, his cock twitching inside your spasming pussy as the last spurts of his cum painted your walls. Your body went limp in his grip, breaths coming in ragged gasps, the intensity leaving you boneless and spent.

Finally, with a soft, strained groan, Toji loosened his hold. 

“Easy now.” He murmured, voice rough but carrying that familiar edge of control, the dominance peeking through the exhaustion. 

He lowered you carefully toward the bed, but your weakened limbs gave way mid-descent, causing you to flop forward onto the mattress in a boneless heap: face down, your ass instinctively lifting just enough to present your cum-dripping pussy and cheeks to him, thighs splayed wide from the lingering haze of pleasure.

He knelt behind you now, eyes dark and hooded as he took in the view. 

Thick ropes of his cum, mixed with your own juices, began to ooze from your stretched hole, trickling down your inner thighs in lazy rivulets. The sight was obscene, your pussy puffy and red from the hours of relentless pounding, lips parted slightly as more of his seed leaked out, pooling on the sheets beneath your raised hips. 

Toji’s breath hitched, a low whimper escaping his lips - uncharacteristic for him, but the sensitivity from his last orgasm made every throb of his cock ache with lingering pleasure.

“Fuck... look at that.” He whispered, almost to himself, one hand reaching out to spread your folds wider with his thumb and fingers. 

He watched intently as another glob of cum pushed free, the creamy white contrasting against your flushed skin. His cock, still half-hard and glistening with your combined mess, twitched visibly, the sight reigniting that primal hunger despite the fatigue.

You were too wrecked to respond coherently, your body heavy and mind foggy, face buried in the pillow with soft, slurred breaths escaping. The position you landed in left you exposed and vulnerable, ass up and quivering, your back arched faintly as if begging for more without words.

Toji’s eyes locked on the presentation, a ragged whimper slipping out as his cock hardened fully again, the sensitivity making it pulse with a mix of pain and need.

 “Goddamn, you do that on purpose, don’t ya? Fuckin’ temptin’ me like this.” His voice was breathy, almost predatory now, the whimper underscoring his building intensity. 

He couldn’t resist - crawling over you with a predatory glint in his eye, his body hovering like a shadow before he attacked again, hands gripping your hips firmly to pull you back against him.

He aligned himself, the fat head of his cock nudging your entrance, smearing the leaking cum back inside with a shallow push that made you both gasp. 

“Guess you’re too sensitive for this, huh? But damn, you look too fuckin’ good like this, all spread out and drippin’ for me.” He said, the apology casual, tossed out like he knew it was expected but didn’t really care - his tone laced with that knowing smirk, lips brushing your shoulder in a lazy kiss, stubble grazing your skin as he sank in inch by inch. 

The overstimulation hit hard - your walls fluttering weakly around his thickness, clenching on the intrusion despite the exhaustion, while his hypersensitive shaft throbbed with every velvety squeeze, drawing a shaky whimper from deep in his chest.

Once fully sheathed, he draped his massive frame over your back, chest pressing into your spine like a warm, unyielding weight, one arm sliding under your waist to hoist your hips higher into the perfect angle. His free hand tangled in your hair gently, tilting your head just enough to expose your neck for another lazy kiss, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your sweat. 

“So perfect... t–takin’ me so deep, even now. My good girl, lettin’ me—hah, shit—wreck you like this.” he praised softly, voice laced with whimpers as he bottomed out, hips grinding slow, deliberate circles that stirred his cum inside you, making obscene squelching sounds with each rotation.

The pace started unhurried, his thrusts measured and deep, pulling back until just the tip kissed your entrance - teasing the sensitive nerves there - before sliding forward steadily, his balls slapping lightly against your clit with each full plunge. He savored the drag, the way your ass jiggled faintly against his pelvis, the ripple of your cheeks under his gripping fingers as he kneaded the flesh, spreading you wider to watch himself disappear into your soaked heat. 

“God, you’re grippin’ me...nnh!—so tight. Won’t let go, will you, ma?” He murmured teasingly against your ear, a quiet ’sorry’ slipping in as he nipped the lobe, but it came out half-hearted, more like an acknowledgment of your whimpers than genuine remorse. 

You arched into him with a muffled whine, the pillow soaking up your quiet pleas, your body responding on instinct: pushing back weakly to meet his rhythm, the position allowing him to hit that deep spot inside you over and over, building the pressure slow and relentless. 

Toji’s breaths came hot and uneven against your skin, his kisses trailing lazily down your spine, pausing to suck a mark into the curve of your shoulder blade. His hand under your waist roamed upward, cupping one breast to pinch and roll the nipple between rough fingers, the dual sensations making your walls spasm around him.

He shifted his weight slightly, angling his hips to grind against that spot with precision, the lazy thrusts turning into a hypnotic roll - forward, deep, hold, then withdraw just enough to let you feel the ache of emptiness before filling you again. 

Whimpers punctuated his praises now, his cock so oversensitive that each slide sent sparks of mingled pleasure-pain through him, but he chased it anyway, hips snapping a fraction harder when the need overtook the tenderness. 

“You’re doin’ so well... lettin’ me use this pretty pussy one more time.” His fingers intertwined with yours where they clutched the sheets, squeezing in rhythm with his movements, the emotional tether grounding the raw physicality.

The room filled with the wet sounds of his cock plunging into your cum-filled pussy, each thrust pushing more of the mixed fluids out around his girth, dripping down your thighs and soaking the bed further. 

Toji’s grip on your hips tightened, his thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you back harder onto him, the force making your body jolt forward with every impact. 

He leaned in closer, his chest fully flush against your back now, trapping you beneath his bulk while his hips pistoned steadily, the friction building heat between your bodies. Sweat slicked your skin where you connected, his muscles flexing with each controlled drive, showcasing the effortless power that had you hooked from the start.

“You sound so pretty when you’re desperate.” He cooed, voice dropping lower as he felt your inner muscles flutter in response to the relentless angle. 

He released your hair to brace one hand on the mattress beside your head, using the leverage to deepen his strokes, his cock dragging along your walls in long, unyielding glides that stretched you anew each time. 

The head bumped against your cervix with a dull, pleasurable ache, sending jolts up your spine that made your toes curl into the sheets. “N–Nhaa! Shooo deep!”

Toji noticed, chuckling breathlessly against your ear. “Yeah, right there, h–huh? Sorry, baby, but I know you love it when I go deep like this. Makes you—ngh—clench so fuckin’ tight.” The apology was light, teasing almost, as if he was just humoring your sensitivity while reveling in the control.

Your breaths came in short, desperate pants now, muffled into the pillow as the coil in your belly wound tighter with every deliberate push. He varied the rhythm just enough to keep you on edge - slow, grinding rolls that stirred his previous loads inside you, making your pussy feel impossibly full, followed by sharper thrusts that slapped his hips against your ass with a meaty smack. 

His free hand slid down your side, tracing the curve of your waist before dipping between your legs to circle your swollen clit with rough fingertips, the added stimulation making stars burst behind your eyelids.

Toji’s noises grew more frequent, his hypersensitive length pulsing with each velvet grip of your walls, the overstimulation turning every sensation into a razor-sharp edge of bliss. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as his lips parted to suck at the skin there, leaving a fresh bruise amid the constellation of marks he’d already painted on you. 

“Fuck... you’re gonna make me cum too quick again. This pussy’s too damn good, suckin’ me in like it never wants me to leave.” His words were punctuated by a particularly deep thrust, holding himself there as he ground his pelvis against you, the pressure on your clit intensifying under his fingers.

Finally, the tension snapped when he angled just right, his cock hitting that sweet spot while his fingers pressed firmly on your clit. “Mm– Toji!”

Your orgasm crashed over you in a shuddering rush, a keening moan escaping into the pillow as your pussy clamped down hard around him, rhythmic contractions milking his length with desperate squeezes. 

Juices gushed out weakly around his shaft, mixing with the cum already there, the slick mess easing his final thrusts as he chased his own release.

Toji’s hips stuttered, a deep, whimpering groan rumbling from his chest as he buried himself to the hilt one last time. Hot spurts of cum erupted from his cock, flooding your depths with thinner ropes now from the exhaustion, but still coating your walls in warmth, the creampie overflowing slightly to trickle down your thighs. 

He held you there, grinding shallowly to push it deeper, his body shuddering against yours in the throes of it, whimpers softening into satisfied sighs.

Staying seated inside you as he softened, Toji was reluctant to break the connection, his body collapsing gently over yours in a protective drape. Finally, he rolled you both to the side, still joined, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

 Lips pressed a final lazy kiss to your temple, his voice a smug rumble, thick with cocky satisfaction. “Damn, you really are the best birthday present a guy could ask for. Don’t think anythin’ is gonna top this present.”

a/n: happy birthday to my GLORIOUS king, husband, lover, etc etc, toji fushiguro!!!!!!!!!!!

dividers by @/uzmacchiato!

banner/toji pic made by me :3

[kneelforgeto]

Oh my. This might just be your most graphic piece.

Always an honour being the first viewer for most of your work

[lemxnns]

toji fushiguro + mistletoe

You didn’t notice the mistletoe at first.

One second you were mid-sentence, hands full of something warm and festive, the room loud with laughter and clinking glasses. The next, a broad hand hooked lightly around your wrist and tugged you backward with casual certainty.

“Careful, ma.” He murmured, voice low and amused. “You’re standing somewhere dangerous.”

You looked up.

Green leaves and white berries, hanging innocently enough, like it hadn’t already sealed your fate.

Your face heated instantly. “Toji, seriously?”

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming, the corners of his mouth curling like he’d won something. “House rules.”

Before you could argue, he dipped his head and kissed you. It wasn’t rushed, but it wasn’t gentle either. It was the kind of kiss that made it clear he had all the time in the world and intended to use it. His hand slid to your lower back, warm and grounding, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

When he pulled away, you were breathless and flustered, scowling even as your hands stayed fisted in his shirt.

“That was unnecessary.” You said.

He hummed. “Didn’t feel unnecessary.”

You escaped the moment he let you, disappearing into the room with your dignity only mildly singed. However, you should’ve known better.

The second time, he caught you by the waist as you passed beneath it, lifting you just enough to steal another kiss. Shorter this time; smugger.

“Again?” You hissed when he set you down.

He shrugged. “Y’didn’t say it was a one-time thing, ma.”

After that, it became a pattern.

Every time you wandered too close, he was there: a hand at your hip. Fingers laced with yours. A quiet, pleased sound when he pulled you under the mistletoe like it was his personal excuse. Sometimes the kisses were slow and lingering. Sometimes they were quick, stolen things that left your pulse racing.

At one point, you caught him standing beneath it alone, arms crossed, watching you from across the room.

Your eyes narrowed. “You are not subtle.”

He grinned. “Never claimed to be.”

When you finally gave in and walked over on your own, his expression softened just a touch - just enough.

“Thought you might give in.” He jested.

This time, when he kissed you, there was no teasing rush. Just his enveloping warmth, and the quiet understanding that he’d keep finding excuses to pull you close, mistletoe or not.

And honestly? You’d let him every time.

[kneelforgeto]

I can't believe I forgot to read this. I'm actually in love. I'm so proud you've gotten over 900 likes on this, like what???? Do you even see that you're awesome