Another odd thing about being Ryomen Sukuna’s girlfriend? His tendency to…stalk you. And not even in a purposeful way; he himself doesn’t even realize it.
Often while you’re both out together, he feels the need to always have a hand on you—whether it be on your waist, your lower back, or even encasing your own in his; he will always be touching you. But when he can’t, he looks like an actual Joe Goldberg ass stalker.
Going to get something on the other side of the store? He’s following a few feet behind you, dodging your gaze when you look over your shoulder. Want to get your nails done with some friends? Okay. Sukuna’s just gonna wait outside in his car, looking through the windows of the salon.
He mainly does this in public because he knows you like to feel a sense of independence every now and then. Also, so you don’t get hurt since he knows what kind of men are out there everywhere.
Let’s be honest, he was one of those men before he met you.
But when you’re both at home, it’s a bit of a different story:
You could be walking around the house, minding your own business, and then you suddenly just see the huge monster of a man your boyfriend is, looking at you from around a corner. Most often although, he’ll just walk up behind you and stare at you ominously for no reason.
Sometimes, you start to think he’s mad at you. His red eyes look a shade darker, and his chest rises rapidly, almost as if he were a predator stalking its prey.
But in reality, he’s thinking of all kinds of things in his head as he observes you. And this man thinks he’s being slick about it too…he hasn’t even considered the fact that this behavior could put you off at times. Because how is he supposed to just not look at you when you’re free for him to look at 24/7? Dirty thoughts, random thoughts, domestic thoughts, even thoughts of being the father to your children run his mind; all while he just stares you down like his next meal.
“Uh…Kuna? You good?”
He just grumbles, not even bothering to give a verbal explanation. Why would he? He does everything he wants to anyways.
Well, except for when it comes to you; you could walk him like a dog, even if he’s almost two times your height and weight. But that’s a topic for another time.
Satoru is an eliminating Yandere. Yeah, he’ll kill everyone who tried to touch you, because he’s possessive and has the means to kill without suffering the consequences.
He’s too powerful and overwhelming for you to ever get away from so it’s easy for him to keep you where he wants.
Though, at times, he can grow bored, so he is known to flit form darling to darling, whenever they break. But he always comes back to you. Always.
Because you refuse to break.
Manipulating.
Suguru is manipulative by trade, his words hold so much water a lot of the time you don’t know which way is up.
Like water drops, if he says something enough times, you start to believe it.
Why you’re here.
How he’s the only one that loves you.
How no one else will match up because he is the one who is most equipped at looking after you.
He expects nothing in return but your love.
And that’s a big ask.
Delusional.
Kento wants nothing more than see your affections towards him made public. He knows you feel a certain type of way about him and are only keeping it to yourself in some twisted mind game you've convinced yourself he wants to play.
He doesn't. He just needs you come clean about your feelings towards him soon because it's driving him crazy. The silent treatment and harsh words are only a way to keep him interested further, and that won't change.
But every now and then, when he finally gets you to sleep in the same room, he prays you'll give in and at least give him a smile or lingering touch to set his heart ablaze to let him know you love him.
He knows you do, but perhaps you're just too shy to come out and say it.
Eliminating.
Sukuna will strike anyone down who dares to come near you, to even think about touching you.
It's not that he loves you the way he's been told he should, it's just that you are a play thing he enjoys toying with, and he's grown... an attachment. Your pretty little cries are something he enjoys listening to and they play on his mind more and more whenever he is apart from you.
He actually tells himself that he doesn't love you, that you're just a pathetic human who holds not one candle to him in his presence, but it does not stop him from making sure no one else has you in their sights.
You're his to play with. Nothing more. So he thinks.
Isolating.
Toji finds that its easier for him and less hassle just to keep you held up at his place. He managed to maintain it so there was no chance of your escape.
Sometimes he does think about it. Escaping, just the two of you somewhere where no one will find you. Living the boring domestic life and getting comfortable with just your company.
Yet other times, he wonders about a scenario where you do escape. How would you do it? The mere thought actually excites him, like a sudden movement enough to make a cat's pupils dilate into hunt mode.
The chase seems a little more interesting. He wants to know just how intelligent you are.
Submissive.
Choso does anything for you. If you ask him to sit in the corner like a little scolded puppy just to make yourself feel better, he will.
He dotes on you twenty-four-seven just to see a glimmer of a smile ghost your lips. One blink and he would miss it. So he doesn't blink. It makes his eyes burn for as long as he can keep it until he has no choice.
If you told him to break his own heart, he would find a way. Though you do that perfectly when you try to leave, and every time it takes a little part of him with you.
But he still loves you because it's you.
Because at the end of the day, he is yours.
Isolating.
Hiromi keeps you. He knows what damage you can cause utilising the legal system in your favour. The rate of conviction in Japan is at 99%.
That isn't good if you manage to speak to someone, who by unfortunate luck may believe you. Hiromi is sure he would have no issue in convincing them otherwise given his risk taking in court to defend people in precarious places.
But there's no way he can look at you from across that court room if you were to get out.
So he keeps you where no one can get to you. That way you'll be with him forever.
sukuna's stomach mouth intimidated you; it was so big and kind of scary when it gaped open, but sukuna assured you every time with attitude that it’s safe.
rolling his eyes, huffing and puffing as you explained to him why you didn’t want to, your paranoia making him groan.
of course, this was sukuna’s way of telling you to just fucking sit on his mouth, his stomach mouth to be exact.
“what exactly are you afraid of? if i was going to eat you, i would’ve done it centuries ago… sit.”
sukuna was a pervert; those were your words exactly, so confused on why he was so adamant on getting you to sit on his stomach.
this was one of the many things he wanted to try, this being more tame than the other things he had in mind, so when he saw how hesitant you were whenever he suggested it, it annoyed him.
“please, do tell, what is it i have to do to make you sit on me? hm? lay out a sheet and put down food like a picnic?”
his annoyance only growing, but no matter how many times he brought it up, it was going to be your choice, and the night finally came, where curiosity killed the cat.
slowly straddling him as he laid back, both his hands resting on your hips with a firm grip, his lips curling into a smirk as his eyes trailed your naked body.
he waited for you to get comfortable on top of him, your hands resting on his chest, then finally opening the mouth that laid on his stomach and sliding his tongue over your wet heat.
once his tongue finally got a taste of your pussy, it felt like his soul was ascending from him, the taste satisfying him, a low laugh coming from deep within him.
your body twitches and squirms as his big tongue continues to lick stripes over your sopping slit, sliding his tongue over your clit and back to your slit in a swift motion.
sukuna's eyes were fixed on yours, his chest repeatedly rising and falling quickly with satisfaction.
his hands running up your sides, one of them groping your breasts, a low moan erupting from his throat, watching you intently.
this is what he wanted from the very start, for you to get on top of him and give in, give in to the pleasure he did desperately want you to experience. now that you were, it felt like an out-of-body experience for the both of you.
this feeling that you felt deep in the pit of your stomach, trying to swallow down a moan, but another one even louder than the last pushed up, your body unstable, squirming on top of him, sukuna's grip on your hip tightening, making sure you stayed in place.
"should i make you cum?" teasing you as his tongue went back and forth on your clit, watching your every move and how you fought the urge to get off of him from the intense pleasure.
his eyes roll up as he feels you pulse on his tongue, another laugh erupting from within him as you finish.
sukuna was expecting you to be the one flustered out of your mind, but instead he was there clutching you like you were going to fly away, and his face flushed a deep red.
"i will admit, when you make me feel good, this is one of those times." scrunching his face up in embarrassment seeing you composed, rolling his eyes.
"at least give me a kiss if you're going to sit there; that was hard work." a smile on your face as he pulls you down, kissing your lips and cheeks repeatedly.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who insists he's only doing it to warm you up for the real deal.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who throws your legs over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, making snarky remarks about how this is just 'foreplay', and not to get too cocky.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who grips your waist hard, going face first into your weeping pussy without intake for air, tongue immediately hitting your most sensitive spots.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who still hasn't come up for air, now moving his attention to what you think is his favorite—your clit, now swollen and tender with how latched he is on it; kitty licks with sucking like it'll kill him.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who rides you through your first orgasm by adding two of his girthy fingers to the mix, pushing them out of your hot walls that clench around his digits every stroke and curl.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who finally comes up to take a breath, chin covered with a translucent sheen of your cum—a nasty trail of slick following him as he gives you a stupid grin; teasing you by slowly lowering himself to your oversensitive sex to continue his ministrations despite your pleas.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who grumbles a short, "Shut up", when you tell him it's becoming too much, hands on your waist only getting tighter to make sure you won't run away; tongue seeming to reach down your messy cunt further as punishment.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who gets annoyed at you for interrupting his feasting with your constant shoving and twisting while you try and get him away from your overstimulated sex, but only getting a slap! on your pussy in return.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who has never seemed more grateful to be a curse in his life with how much stamina he has, each orgasm of yours only resulting in him trying harder to drag another out of you.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who actually moans in pleasure of you hitting your 6th straight orgasm of the night from his eating, the only relief you get is him stopping to grunt, "The next better have you squirting".
pussydrunk!Sukuna who smiles deep in your weeping pussy (so swollen with sensitivity that you're numb) at your screams of his name along with the rough tugs at his hair begging him to give you a break.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who finally is satisfied as you squirt long and hard with tears falling down your cheeks, the liquid that he can't catch in his mouth ending up in his hair, the sheets, and his chest—not like he minds though.
pussydrunk!Sukuna who runs his calloused hand up and down your back when you pass out from tiredness, feeling accomplished he made you hit seven orgasms in 2 and a half hours, but who's really counting?
Being Sukuna’s girlfriend is not always easy. He’s the type to show his love rarely, but when he does, it’s aggressive, to say the least.
You’ll often wake up with his large hand wrapped around your neck, his warm fingers just long enough to reach around your entire throat. At first, it was startling—a demon man you just started dating who shows basically no affection is choking you in your sleep? Was he trying to kill you and just got tired half way through??
All of your questions cease although, the moment you find out why he does this. You decided to pretend to be asleep one night as you were lying in his royal chambers, covered in love bites from moments before when he decided to suckle and nip at your skin—another strange way he shows his love for you. Your eyes flutter shut as soon as you hear him walk out of the bathroom, knowing he’s just finished brushing his teeth and is now ready for bed.
The mattress dips when he lies down next to you, inches away at first, but when you feel his large frame hover over your face to make sure you’re asleep, he moves right up against your back. You’re surprised to feel one of his muscular arms wrap tightly around your waist, the other reaching under your head so that you’re essentially using him as a pillow. His chest rumbles lowly when his hand moves below your chin, fingers carefully wrapping around your throat as usual.
You’re waiting for a squeeze, the tip of one of his nails jutting into your skin, or even a few harsh words in your ear. But all you feel next is his fingers tightening slowly, the tip of his index hovering just above your pulse point, before pressing into your soft, pliant skin. You feel your heart race against the pad of his finger, then another rumble from his chest against your back.
“Mine,” he whispers gently, before running his thumb over the soft edge of your jawline. He then presses one last kiss to the top of your head before lying his head down and closing his eyes.
Let’s just say, you never question his weird, sometimes animalistic, possession over you; because in reality, he’s just a big guy who doesn’t know how to express his unyielding love for you.
It’s givinggggggg tiger!sukuna. Should I…explore the waters of that concept more? I probably will despite the reaction to this💪🏻🫡
Bruce: nonchalantly digging a bullet out of his shoulder so he can analyze the fragments, frustrated half the League followed him to the Cave
Oliver: critiquing his technique and suggesting some weird herbal salve he makes at home for the pain (Dinah will roll her eyes and bring it if he asks)
Hal: feet up on Bruce’s desk, snacking on Alfred’s grazing platter until they ask him to use his Ring for analysis, mentally comparing the roast beef roll ups to Bruce’s bloody arm
Clark: hovering, trying to help Bruce by x-raying the fragments but keeps wincing sympathetically when Bruce digs the forceps in
Diana: taking the opportunity to admire Alfred’s tea set and Bruce’s photos of his kids, completely unfazed by blood
Arthur: trying to figure out if that trident on the wall over there is Atlantean without being rude (it is), will slap Bruce’s arm when he leaves just to see if he’ll wince (he won’t)
J’onn: reluctantly fascinated by Hal, Arthur, and Bruce’s thought patterns
Victor: subtly trying to analyze the fragments via x-ray but keeps zooming back out whenever Bruce’s internal hardware lights up like a Christmas tree because it gives him a migraine
(Bonus) Alfred: would have gotten the bullet fragments out 20 minutes ago if Bruce had let him try instead
Smau: in which the jjk men are your roommates in a modern au and you brought/are bringing a one night stand over ooh
Warnings: cursing, sexual language, mostly crack, Choso, not proofread
Featuring: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Toji, Nanami, Sukuna
Sukuna first saw you when he was just a small, scrappy child—a nameless orphan wandering among mortals, unloved and unwanted. Maybe you were helping someone, maybe you were just passing by, but to him, it was fate. You knelt down, offered him food, kissed his forehead with the gentlest touch, and walked away with a soft smile.
That was it. That was all it took.
"Yes," he thought. "That. That right there will be my wife."
There was just one tiny problem.
He was a nobody. A weak, starving child. And you? You were something else. Something divine.
So, what did he do? He trained. He bled. He broke his bones, healed, then broke them again. He clawed his way to power, forcing the world to acknowledge him. No longer a weakling, no longer a mere mortal—he became something more. Something worthy.
But then came the real problem.
How the hell was he supposed to find you?
Because, as it turns out, his dumbass had only seen you once in his entire life. And, to make matters worse, there was a very real possibility that he had imagined the whole thing.
Wow, Sukuna. Great job. Truly a genius-level plan.
Still, he refused to give up. He grew stronger and stronger, thinking maybe, just maybe, with enough power, he could track you down—sense you, find you, claim you. But the years passed, and doubt crept in.
Had you ever been real?
Were you just a dream? A fantasy conjured up by a lonely, starving child? Because let’s be honest—you were too perfect, too pure, too good.
The realization hit him like a boulder to the chest. The defeat, the disappointment—unbearable. And slowly, he gave up.
Besides, even if you had existed, by now you’d be too old for him. Or worse—already married. Or dead.
He had played himself. Gotten his hopes up for nothing.
And then—
He saw you.
Even more beautiful. Even more perfect. Even more… you.
It was after a long, bloody war. He had wandered into a quiet bay, stepping into the cool water to wash away the grime of battle. That’s when he saw it—soft ripples, a gentle glow, the outline of a figure.
At first, he thought it was a water spirit. Or maybe a curse.
No.
It was you.
There you were, bathing peacefully, unaware that you had just shattered the last bit of reason left in his soul. And that’s when everything clicked.
You weren’t human.
And you would—in fact—be his wife.
No doubt about it.
He had planned this moment for years. Thought of what he’d say, how he’d announce himself like the all-powerful being he had become. He’d make a grand impression, take your breath away with his presence alone.
Then—before he could even figure out how to start—you turned your head and smiled.
"Oh," you said, tilting your head slightly. "You’ve grown up."
That was it. That was the first thing you said to him.
Sukuna was waiting.
Waiting for you to say something else—anything—that acknowledged how impressive he was. Maybe a gasp of realization. A whisper of awe. A wow, you've become so powerful and handsome, please take me now.
Instead, you just… kept bathing.
Like he was a particularly large and grumpy bird that had landed nearby.
His eye twitched. "You’ve grown up? That’s all you had to say?"
You tilted your head, watching him like he was some amusing little creature. "Well, you have," you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You were just a little cub when I last saw you."
Cub.
Cub?
Sukuna clenched his fists, trying to decide whether he should be offended or just sink into the ground and perish.
You, meanwhile, were still looking at him with the same gentle, unreadable expression. If anything, you seemed fond. Which was not helping.
"You—" He exhaled sharply through his nose. "You remember me?"
"Of course I do." You gave him a little smile, but to him, it felt like you had just carved your name into his soul. "You were such a sweet little thing."
He was not sweet.
He was not little.
He was a warlord. A demon. A walking catastrophe.
But to you?
Just a sweet little thing.
Sukuna gritted his teeth, taking a step forward, making the water shift around his massive frame. "Listen, woman—"
You laughed softly. "You sound the same."
Oh, that was it. That was the final straw.
Something in his brain—already barely holding on—snapped.
You were his. That was final.
And if you didn’t realize it yet, you would.
"Do you have any idea what you’ve done?" His voice was lower now, rough and commanding, but his hands trembled where they hovered near you—like he wanted to touch you but was restraining himself. "You think you can just… feed me, smile at me, and disappear?!"
You blinked up at him. "I wasn’t aware I needed your permission."
Oh, he liked you. He really liked you.
A growl rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, his massive frame blocking out the rest of the world. "You belong to me. You have always belonged to me."
You just hummed, tilting your head like you were considering something. "Hmm. No, I don’t think I do."
He inhaled sharply, like you had physically stabbed him.
You were toying with him. You had to be.
"You will," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "I’ll make sure of it."
He had spent years searching for you. Built himself into a monster. Became something worthy. And now, here you were, looking at him like he was nothing but a large, stubborn tiger who had wandered into your bath.
By the time he was done, you wouldn’t just acknowledge him.
You’d never leave his side again.
----
It didn’t take long before you two got married.
Not because Sukuna asked—no, no. That would imply he gave you a choice.
The moment he found you, he had already decided. And Sukuna, being the absolute menace he was, did not handle obstacles well. Which was unfortunate for you, because you, dear wife, had tested him endlessly.
It wasn’t intentional, really. You were just… yourself.
And that was the problem.
Because Sukuna had spent his entire life thinking you were divine. Unreachable. Unteachable. Something he could never fully grasp, no matter how much power he amassed.
He was okay with that. Fine, even.
Because at the end of the day, you were his wife.
He had made his dream woman his wife.
And on the first night of your wedding, for the first time in his life, Sukuna slept like a baby.
———
The next morning, he woke up feeling good.
Too good. Suspiciously good.
He sat up, stretching his absurdly large frame, and glanced at you. There you were, sleeping peacefully beside him, completely unbothered by the fact that you had married a warlord, a demon, a walking calamity.
He squinted.
Were you real?
He poked your cheek.
You swatted his hand away in your sleep.
Okay. So you were real.
He flopped back onto the bed, exhaling. "Shit."
You were his. Officially. Legally. Spiritually. Cosmically.
And suddenly, his brain—already running on delusional husband energy—decided something else.
"I need to build her a temple."
———
The next time you saw him, he was pacing back and forth, talking to his men.
"The biggest," he was saying. "No—bigger than that. If it’s not visible from the godsdamned heavens, you’ve failed me."
You stared at him, unblinking. "Sukuna."
He turned, eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Wife."
"Why are you terrorizing the architects?"
"I’m building you a temple."
You blinked. "A temple?"
"Yes. The biggest. The most magnificent. Something worthy of you."
You crossed your arms. "Sukuna, I don’t need a temple."
He stared at you like you had just spoken complete nonsense. "Of course, you do. You’re my wife. You deserve the best of the best."
"I think a nice house would be fine."
"No."
"Sukuna—"
"No."
He folded his arms, looking at you like a very stubborn, very large child who refused to compromise.
You sighed. "Fine. If you insist. But make sure it has a good kitchen."
His eyes narrowed. "…Why?"
"Because I want to cook."
He recoiled. "YOU want to cook?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Sukuna—"
"No wife of mine is cooking. That’s what servants are for."
You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I like cooking."
"I like destroying entire armies, but you don’t see me asking for permission, do you?"
"That is not the same thing—"
"You’re my goddess. You should be worshipped, not slaving over a stove."
"Cooking is not slavery—"
"Debatable."
You sighed. "Fine. Then I’ll cook in secret."
He squinted. "I’ll know."
"No, you won’t."
"Yes, I will."
"You won’t."
He pointed at you. "I will."
You stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills.
Eventually, he huffed. "Fine."
You raised a brow. "Fine?"
"Fine." He scowled, looking away. "But only when I’m not around."
You smiled. "Deal."
He narrowed his eyes. "I feel like I just lost something."
You patted his arm. "You did."
---
Sukuna had seen many things in his life. But watching a golden celestial chariot descend from the sky, carrying beings who radiated power beyond reason, was new.
Your parents stepped out first, looking like they just owned the entire universe—which, to be fair, they probably did. Your mother, a glowing figure draped in cosmic silk, gave Sukuna a once-over and sighed, like she was disappointed her daughter had married a mortal warlord. Your father, a towering being with burning stars in his eyes, simply nodded at Sukuna like he was approving a pet.
Then came your brother. Mars.
He was huge, arrogant, and immediately tried to fight Sukuna on sight.
"Ah, so this is the man who stole my sister," Mars sneered, cracking his knuckles.
Sukuna blinked. "I didn't steal her, you overgrown meteor."
"You married her."
"...Yes?"
"FIGHT ME."
The entire village was watching as the god of war (your brother) kept lunging at Sukuna while your parents casually observed, judging Sukuna’s performance like it was some royal tournament.
You, meanwhile, were busy playing with the village children, completely ignoring the chaos behind you.
At some point, Sukuna turned to you—panting, shirt half torn, arms bruised from fighting an actual god—and yelled, "WOMAN, CONTROL YOUR FAMILY!"
You just waved at him cheerfully. "You’re doing great, babe!"
At dinner, Sukuna finally got a moment to sit down—only to learn even worse news.
Your mother sighed dramatically. “I was hoping our daughter would marry someone divine, but I suppose this will do.”
Your father sipped his celestial wine, eyeing Sukuna. “He’s strong. And stubborn. I like that.”
Mars just scoffed. “I still think we should throw him into a black hole and see if he survives.”
Sukuna was about to cuss all of them out until he noticed—
You were glowing.
Not like metaphorically. No. You were literally glowing, like the moon had chosen to radiate directly from your skin. The villagers whispered about your true form, about how no one is allowed to look upon you unless you grant them permission.
And it hit Sukuna like a ton of bricks.
He had always known you were divine. He had just never fully processed what that meant.
He married a literal celestial being.
His in-laws were gods of the freaking planets.
His brother-in-law was trying to kill him every five minutes.
And now there was a rumor going around that mortals couldn’t even look at you.
"...Am I—" Sukuna paused, rubbing his temples. "Am I the only mortal who’s allowed to see you?"
You blinked innocently. "Well, yeah. You’re my husband."
The villagers gasped.
Mars choked on his wine. "WAIT. HE’S SEEN YOUR TRUE FORM?"
Your mother narrowed her eyes. "So that’s why he’s still alive."
Your father chuckled. "Interesting. I suppose he’s truly worthy, then."
By the end of the night, Sukuna had:
Survived three fights with Mars.
Been subtly threatened by your father.
Judged by your mother.
Accidentally started a cult because now the villagers worshipped him as your celestial consort.
The next morning, as your family prepared to leave, Mars gave Sukuna one last death glare. "If you hurt her, I will personally rip you from the fabric of existence."
Sukuna rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Get off my planet."
As the golden chariot ascended, Sukuna let out a long, suffering sigh.
Then he turned to you.
"...I need a vacation from your family."
You just smiled, completely unbothered. "Aww, but they love you!"
---
just shut up and enjoy it and the super bowl is kinda good the halftime show is about to be elite.
Synopsis. Pheromone perfume? Should’ve thought about the olfactory ethics of driving him absolutely wiId with them.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, pheromone perfume (they’re affected), they go FÉRAL, slight aphrodísiacs, creampíes, dúmbification, tummy buIges, MARATHONS, overstím, really néedy boys, GOJO’S POWERS, full neIsons, making Geto whímper, handcúffs (Geto), rough s, p sIapping, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Yes, I think I’m a comedian for that title.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - BREAK HIM!
“P-please-”
“Hm?”
“Please, doll…”
And it’s the first time in your life that you’ve heard Toji Fushiguro beg - the first ever time in his life that he has. Low, rasping over the deafening snap! of the poor headboard splitting in half, “Mercy- m’begging ya. Mercy.”
It’s hard to think that just a few hours ago, he was trying not to snicker with smugness - pheromone perfume. Really? As if anything in that shiny, half-off bottle could make him lose his composure.
“Such a silly girl–” Toji had rolled his sage eyes down at you. Tutting at the way you were impatiently sprawled over his lap, waiting for his word. Leisurely, he’d leaned in– well whatever his lady wants. “Told ya already, this stuff isn’t gonna m-make me-”
Oh.
And that was hours ago. Hours.
But here Toji was bullying his furiously sweat-slicked face into the heady crook of your neck - taking only one singular whiff before he flinches. Hips rutting mindlessly into yours with a smack! “O-oh, we’re not making it hngh! outta this alive, ma.”
It was the fourth time in the past few minutes that he’s babbling those very words into your perspired skin. The fourth time.
He was broken.
Managing out only a few throaty whimpers when you’re shuffling onto your elbows, all you have to do is give one fluttering squeeze of your gummy walls before something hits your arched spine with a wet splat!
Multiple. Tears.
“F-fuuuuck–” He’s hissing, sexy baritone thickened with clingy sobs. And the only thing sloppier than Toji’s unsteady tone, was his cock. Ruthless. “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–”
“Need a lil’ h-help, baby?” You find yourself purring, head tilting ever-so-slightly over your shoulder to bare Toji with even more of your scented throat. Clouded wafts of it puffing over to his darkened features and making him gasp– “Because-”
In only a split-second, you’re not even sure what you were about to say - what happened other than Toji shoving you face-first into the cushy pillow in nanoseconds.
Staggering strength leaving the bulging biceps on his big, beefy arms flex, and you keening away into your soft landing. Boneless legs stumbling onto the bed once he tilts his bodyweight onto yours and makes you stumble, “T-Tooji—!”
Oh, the sound of his name in your honeyed tone makes Toji’s hulking voice break out in shivers.
“S-s’it turn you on ta see me like this?” Punctured with solid, pounding plaps! of his bloated tip against your springy cervix, such a staggering size that tenderized every sliver inside your heated cunt without even trying. His massive arms tremble, “To see me a-all pathetic and ngh- weak?”
Weak.
But the way he was pinning you down onto the creaking bedcoils and slamming jagged bruises onto your mounds of flesh from behind was anything but.
“M-maybe?” Oh, he definitely was fucking you stupid - because you find yourself giggling. Globs of slippery drool overspilling from your slack maw and drenching the puffy pillow underneath you. So wet n’ utterly filthy that it makes your thighs squeeze, “You’re s-so cute, Toji.”
“Don’t- don’t you fuckin’–” Immediately leaving one spank on your puffed-up clit. Two. Three, just for good measure- shit, Toji really can’t help but bring those sappy, glazed-over fingerpads to his mouth and sucking.
And the sugary sweet taste makes the man moan.
“Fuck- fuck, did that p-perfume make her taste even sweeter or what?”
Before you know it, Toji’s hard, Herculean front is sagging downwards into yours - hunching over, collapsing. He can barely keep his eyelids held open, let alone his glissading body.
Sinking you ever-deeper into the plush mattress, you swear you could count each and every rock-hard ab pressing into you. The curvy massage of Toji’s pecs rendering your mouth to let off a soft mewl.
And he’s rough above you. Still fucking you in a way that makes your sturdy bed splinter. Dark tufts from Toji’s happy trail scratching the very tip-top of your papping ass with every merciless whack.
“Gonna tell ya a s-secret-” He spills in breathy puffs against your ear, nuzzling the pointed tip of his nose against where your perfume was the most potent. Drinking you in. Gasping. “-b-better not tell ngh- anyone- got it, ma?”
And you almost get the urge to tilt your head back and confirm that this was really your Toji.
Because not only were his choked-up words making you dizzy, so was the way that he sounded right about not. Voice numerous octaves higher, cracking.
You’d have half the mind to tease him about it if the entirety of your fuzzy head wasn’t completely overtaken by simply the thought of Toij Toji Toji-
“Oi- oi!” Three harshly repeated smacks to the side of your cheek wrench you from your little daydream, until you’re being manhandled with a few fingers around your throat to gaze up at the man himself. Growling, “N-no zonin’ out on me just yet- gotta tell ya h-how much it turns me on, too…”
Oh? Oh.
And as soon as he starts, he can’t stop. Can’t slow down the prattling words spat into your mouth - all teeth and something lecherous.
You’re squealing once one of his splayed-out palms rover to the bumpy outline of him fucking a tummy bulge into you.
Skimming across until he could practically feel the rapid ba-dump–! ba-dump–! ba-dump–! being crashed into all your magical spots, “L-look at you taking it allll. Look how hard I am- feel how hngh- fucking hard–”
He doesn’t even have to finish his sentence for you to know. For you to feel.
Another heavy gulp of the thick air surrounding you two - of that familiar candied smell - and he’s like an animal. Swollen cock stretching your goopy walls until they were wiiidely agape, throbbing a few solid centimeters wider in circumference.
“How fucking big. Yeah? Hngh- t-takin’ it all like a big girl, aren’t ya?”
Getting harder just from the perfume. From you.
One hand desperately claws at his own bustling bulge, the other smearing over your overstuffed pussy.
“O-oh, god-” Your eyes sprint needily to the back of your head, head pushing into the soaked pillows. Toji’s ministrations were heavenly, rubbing quick, jerky heart all over your sugar-coated clit. Faster. “K-keep doing that n’ m’gonna c-cum.”
“M’only getting harder. Needier- fuck, I need you-” Swirling his fat thumb in circles right on time with his globular tip, “My big girl- w-with her ngh- big perfumes. Fuck-” You don’t think Toji even registers when he plants a delicate peck where your scent was the strongest. Moaning. Before pressing two more, three, four- “Don’t want- Need you to c-cum f’me. Need to feel that ngh- pretty pussy cum ‘round my big fuckin’ cock.”
You’re raking your nails down his toned forearms, “Close. C-close.”
“Fucking cum.”
And when you so, your silken soft walls are squeezing Toji’s veiny shaft so tight that it takes him everything in him to fuck you through each white-hot peak. Dragging you across your starry high and then some-
Wiping away a trickling spray of his own drool, Toji feels himself laugh - low and humorless. You’ve found his weakness.
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Mr. CEO
Nanami Kento was a gentleman. The perfect sweetheart.
But that was the complete opposite of the way that said Nanami Kento currently had you shoved face-down into his cool mahogany office desk, your delirious tears spilling over in rippling puddles over the expensive wood while he fucked you like he hated you.
“Fuck-” he’s spitting into your open maw, fingers loosening his overpriced tie. Your popped ears ring with a sharp riiiip–! once he tugs your tight satin skirt even higher, rough. “Fuck- not again, darling.”
Before you can even think of gurgling out any coherent syllables, his ragged palm comes striking down on the surface mere inches away from your face with a deafening SLAM!
Meaty thighs rippling with copious shivers from right behind you - Nanami was letting himself heave, he was letting his muscular body pin you down. Sliding the ladder-like ridges of his abs down your arched back.
“Shit. Shit shit shit- not again. M’not supposed ta-” Cutting himself off - gasping - and it’s a sheer miracle that he can even manage to wrench out those growling words at this point. Breath puncturing with a low ah! ah! ah! after every hit of his toned hips against your ass. “I don’t…don’t know why-”
Almost…feral.
You’re both letting your heads drop down at a drunken pace to catch the splat! of those first few ribbons of cum being slipped past your folds.
Every bludgeoning inch of Nanami’s coral pink crownhead plugs your leaky hole full. He’s fucking in those dewdrops of seed to maze across your gummy walls, leaving sweltering hot geysers pooling on your cervix.
So hot.
And in the corner of your eye, you’re catching him reel those powerful hips back until only the very tip of his swollen cock was softly pecking your entrance. “Can’t- can’t stop cumming- fuck!”
“Wh-what?” You’re not sure if you heard him right.
“Can’t stop, m’sorry–” He draws a slow five circles around your quivering hole with the very edge. A glossy white lip gloss that cakes over your pussy folds like icing. “Won’t stop cumming. Haaah- your cute cunt…s’drivin’ me mad.”
You feel Nanami’s round-ended thumb plug up the weeping orifice right in the middle of his cockhead, trying- failing to stop his trickling rivulets of creamy seed. Before letting out a pained huff and filling you once more to the very brim–
It was so much. Too much. And it just pained him to not be all sunken inside your hot, pretty pussy.
You whimper at the taut stretch, stumbling onto your unsteady elbows to peek at your husband. “I-is everything alright, Ken?”
Desperate.
You haven’t seen Nanami look this gone - eyes so hooded they were almost shuttered closed, mouth forever parted in awe, cheeks burning with a bright red blush - since the first time he ever fucked you.
So warm and dizzy.
Your fluttery walls squeeze involuntarily around his puffed-up veins, as if you’re trying to memorize every jagged pattern. Heart racing once leans in with a vulgarly handsome snarl-
“Still here.” He gruffs out a throaty murmur into your rapidly beating pulse, teeth nipping dangerously over the drumming staccato as if to warn look what I can do, my love. And the expression plastered all over his face is nothing if not crazed, “Still there.”
Fuck, that same mantra over n’ over again.
“Wh-what do you mean, Ken?” It takes everything in you to voice out, even the leaking cum that Nanami scoops up dutifully doesn’t compare to just how much wetter your cunt gets at the hoarse baritone of his voice. He was so effortlessly sexy.
“It’s- it’s still there, darling.” And you’ve never heard your stoic husband sound so…ruined. Like he was on the verge of crying - or damn near breaking you in half. Or both.
And how could Nanami Kento have become the boss if he didn’t multitask?
He was still pounding long, rummaging inches into you after every syllable spoken - hitting the bruised and battered target of your g-spot with a sickly sweet ba-dump! every single time. Not even slowing down to let himself catch his breath after his previous orgasm.
He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t.
Because even though Nanami’s molten eyes were stinging with tears from the utter sensitivity, even though he could feel his hefty balls flinch tenderly every time they thwacked against the front of your cunt - he still found something dark and deep inside of him begging for more more more.
Body moving before he could even control.
In only nanoseconds, Nanami interlaces a clawed grip around your throat to haul you up like some glamorized doll. Eyes widening, he buries his face into the crook of your neck and gasps.
“Th-this-” And Nanami Kento never stutters, he never lets his statuesque facade crack with the beginnings of something that almost looks shy. Your stomach twists at the way his cerise lower lip wobbles adorably, “-what is this, my love?”
“Hmm–? Oh.” And then it finally hits you. “A n-new perfume?”
Although it looks like it wasn’t just a perfume. Fuck, you should’ve looked at the packaging a little closer.
But Nanami doesn’t answer. He doesn’t utter a word. Does nothing but let his lungs drag in a generous heaval of your scent.
And it’s enough to send his needy cock crashing into the very bottom of your sloppy pussy. Your hands scramble for anything - and land on the golden name plate emblazoned with CEO NANAMI while he draws up a looong wet glide. Prying apart the papping mounds of your ass to rut into you impossibly deeper.
Nanami’s vision clouds and he’s not sure if it’s from the force of the countless orgasms or simply you. His gorgeous wife.
Wait- wife?
Before he knows it - before he can stop himself - he’s babbling away, “Marry me- marry me, my love.”
“But…” You’re reaching over to tangle your fingertips through his dishevelled strands of gold with a smile. Thumbing away that perspired furrow in his brow, “We’re already hah! married, Kento.”
Oh?
And Nanami Kento trusts you above him. Which is why he finds his eyes rovering down to steal a glance at your pretty ring finger and- oh. You were right.
“Mhm— tha’s me, Kento. Your husband.” He’s breathing out, one hand tracing over the staggeringly large rock homed prettily on your wedding ring.
And the other- the other was letting his fat fingerpads swipe down your buttery slit, topping itself with sweltering hot ounces of cum. Before promptly pushing past your wobbly lips, “Now suck ‘nless you want the whole office to hear about your ph-pheromone perfume.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - T-take it, dammit-
“You- you bitch.” Geto Suguru looked so pretty like this - amethyst eyes fighting to stay open in anger and need, curtaining inky hair splayed out like a halo underneath him. Each growling snarl of his only growing raspier by the minute, “Fucking knew this would h-happen, didn’t you?”
Did you just hear the oh-so-suave Geto Suguru stutter?
And it’s just about all you can do to keep yourself from snickering, hands planting precariously onto the delicious curve of his deltoids. The bulging flex of his toned muscles makes your mouth water, “Oh? I don’t know what you mean, Sugu—”
Geto’s rolling his eyes - but his hips were speaking a completely different language. Rolling up off of the sticky hold of the bedsheets to give your g-spot a good, lengthy skim of his ruby-red tip.
He’s tugging one shackled wrist, “S’that why ya have me in this, gorgeous?”
Ah, and how could you forget your favorite part about tonight?
Those fuzzy pink handcuffs that you’d goaded your dear boyfriend into wearing, all smug smiles and chuckles until you’d leaned down to give him an innocent peck. And then let him smell-
“Sh-shit. Look what you’ve done t’me.” He’s hissing into your loosened mouth, snatching your pouted lips into such a bruising, bruising kiss. Sharpened canines digging into your bottom lip, he practically gulps in the breaths of your special perfume. “You and th-this heavenly pussy and that- godforsaken pheromone perfume.”
You were making a fool out of him - all with a “special perfume” that he’d bought for you at your pleas. Idiot, he didn’t even read the box before gifting it to you.
Geto throws his head back with a drawling grunt when the only reply he gets is your pretty smile. “Fuck- fuck!”
Voice pitching up in volume higher and higher- and he was sure he looked crazed right about now. Hips rutting cleanly off of the mattress to spearhead you with so many copious inches. More.
It was already hard enough keeping himself smooth n’ composed every time he usually sunk past your velvety walls - you drove him wild without even trying. But now?
Now this stupid “perfume” of yours was here to do the very same thing, only tenfold because it was his beautiful girl wearing it.
Oh.
Geto thanks he can feel himself going wild.
The extra heavy-duty handcuffs sing out a metallic creak–! once he tugs particularly harshly, trembling fingertips aching to feel every inch of your glissading body. You were riding him at such a maddening tempo. Your hips hitting the very back of his generously curved balls, before gyrating your puffy clit down in a slooow grind up his toned abdomen — but he wanted more.
It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough when Geto was like this.
“When- when I break out of these oh!” With every empty threat puffed out into the heady air, Geto finds his achingly hard cock weeping even more thick rivulets of pre. Lungs filling up with hypnotic volumes and volumes of that scent. He can feel himself fucking tearing up, “F-fuck you.”
He was so sexy like this.
Trying oh-so-desperately to pretend that those collisions into your gooey depths didn’t have his toes curling, heavy lids falling shut to hide away just how fast Geto’s eyes were sliding to the very back of his head.
You’re arching a brow, “Oh? What was that?”
Lips sleazing backwards into a pussydrunken grin, you had the inkling that Geto didn’t even realize what he was babbling away at this point. He couldn’t even think. “I-I said fuck-”
Mouth still moving. Soundless.
And all it takes is a mere touch of your sensory fingertips caressing his sweat-lathered temple to render Geto speechless.
“W-wait—” He breathes out, and he sounds hysterical right now. Venomous tone lilting countless octaves higher and wobbling as if he was about to break. His chest caves in with a low please–! once you’re streaking your digits through his silky hair, shivering as if being shocked with a thousand voltages. Pulling. “Not fair. Not fair not- fuck tha’s not fair t’me, gorgeous.”
You already knew that the pheromone perfume had some…aphrodisiacal effects. But it seemed that Geto was extra sensitive to it. Cute.
“Yes, and?” Just for good measure - oh, you were thoroughly enjoying this - you’re trekking your stray fingertips to latch onto the gleaming curve of his throat. Bringing your scented neck even closer-
“Oh.” Geto’s snarky mouth now floods with a silvery plash of scorching hot saliva, fucked out of him after every resounding slam! of your hips down on his. You watch as his weightily lidded eyes glaze over with a film of something murky.
Continuing to wrench needily at his restraints. Desperately. It was like a second nature for Geto to touch you and right now he was ruined. You can’t help but ogle the rounded flex of his biceps-
“Gonna- fuck.” He whimpers - whimpers - out, nose crinkling. It made you much too drenched when he leans in mindlessly to rub the buttony tip of it against yours in a lazy kiss. Maw slacking every time you pumped his achily swollen cock across your most tender spots, the orifice of your hole massaging his reactive shaft so greedily. “M’close…”
Whispering, right now, as if it was the most dear confession.
Because Geto Suguru never came before he’d made you reach your orgasm at least five times over.
But right now he was teetering right over the very high edge of it, so close. His thick, sculpted thighs push up from behind your motioning body to urge your bounces vulgarly faster, skin-to-skin.
“C-close.” And it sounded almost pained if you didn’t feel the way it was accompanied by a hastily slipped spasm of Geto’s ballooned-up crownhead against your cervix. Too close. His beautiful head lolls backwards against the tear-streaked pillows, “M’gonna- m’gonna-”
Before snapping up furiously again when your merciless pace stops.
And all you can get out is a not-so-innocent, “Whoops.”
All you can get out - because it takes Geto exactly two split-seconds to snap! those useless pink handcuffs off of him and flip the two of you over to tower over you in all his glory. Speckles of frustrated sweat slithering between his bulging pecs and down onto your heaving body.
He’d let you have your fun, already.
Geto moves slow. Calculated.
Leisurely meandering his face all over your thrumming throat, your tits, everywhere and anywhere that godforsaken pheromone perfume was calling to him. Taking in looong languid breaths of it - and each time he did, he’s fucking up into you like he didn’t even realize.
Pounding you into the drenched silken sheets with all girthy inches of his circumference, branding it into your slippery womb like he didn’t want you to forget.
You’re hit with the sudden remembrance that there was a reason you had to tie Geto up.
And that is when you catch his gaze - wide, unfocused. Feral.
Oh, you were fucked.
So very fucked.
“So.” Geto shatters your anticipatory realization with a throaty few syllables, hoarse like he wasn’t even ready for himself to speak at that point. Without a single warning, he spits - right in your mouth once. Then twice onto two slender fingers, before giving your cunt a stinging spank. “Ya gonna beg for mercy now or later, gorgeous?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - H.O.T.T.O.G.O.
God, if this was any other time then maybe Choso would’ve felt embarrassed about the way he was letting his clammy palms cling onto your waist like he never wanted you to let go.
Because he didn’t. Would never.
Huffing and puffing out clouded puffs of air into the sticky valley of your chest, he’s just so drunk on you. Can feel himself veering lazily into the pillow, drenching it with gumdrops of thick saliva. It takes everything in him to lift his head and puff in smoky breaths of your pheromones.
And it makes him burn. So hot rutting up into you, skin-on-skin.
Probing veins scouring your every nook and cranny, ruthless shaft the complete opposite of just how delicately he was boring down at you. Choso was nudging his ballooned-up cock past your puffy hole like he was making you melt around him.
Making you break - just as much as he was right now.
And the only thing hotter is the way the slithering muscle of Choso’s pierced tongue lolls outwards to skim the buttery splotches of cum scattered across your tits from before. Shiny Prince Albert’s cooling you hardened nipples.
Eyes reeling to the very hidden backs of his hooded lids, he’s moaning at the salted caramel taste of himself. “S-so hot. So soft inside, m’ l-losing my mind.”
You’re just soaked skin-deep with him.
And you’re blaming it all on that strange perfume - a pheromone perfume - that that assistant had dabbed on you at the store. You’d forgotten just how…sensitive curses can be to smells.
How feral.
Finding your heart racing at the way he was narrating off every single thing, every single twitch inside you that slid across your gluey magical spots. “S’that so, Cho?”
Usually, Choso would nod away deliriously to your every word. Usually, he would prattle on sweet, sweet simperings of his very own.
But right now, you watch in slight awe as the pale skin of his pretty cheekbones scorch over with a brightly blossoming blush. The heat of it so feverishly hot that you can almost feel it, and Choso bucks his hips wildly into you with a low keen at the back of his throat.
“D-don’t call me that.” He’s straining out through a shiver. Lower lip fussed until it was a pouted cherry pink. You swear the moment Choso leans closer you see his long mahogany lashes glisten with tears. His big, beefy arms finding their way around your body, “S’gonna…gonna make me cum. Gonna- fuck!”
As if to prove his point, the perked hill of his fattened cockhead splits with glossy white swabs of pre. Buttering up your deepest insides and promising more.
You’re tugging him in ever-closer, the look in your glassy eyes so loving that he feels his length pump greedy ounces more and swell. Growing girthier - pushing your glutinous walls further n’ further apart just from the way you’re staring at him.
How he loved you.
You hum, “But I want you to, Cho. No need to be shy.”
Something in him breaks. And just the thought of it is enough to make the special grade in front of you drool.
Slick rivers of spittle streaming from between his jaw, unhinging when he inches in to gift your surprised tongue with a weighty splat! of webbed spit. He breathes out past the breathless bubble, “No no no no- D-don’t say things like that, baby– I’m not…myself, right now.”
Tasting him. All of him.
The sugary sweet coating lathers your tastebuds and makes you whine, your legs stumbling around Choso’s toned hips. You can feel every tense of his toned core, count all eight of his washboard abs, “S-s’this the ngh! pheromone perfume, baby–? Maybe I should wear it more hck! often-”
“No.”
No?
And Choso can bash himself for interrupting his lovely lady later - but right now, he was frenzied.
Gulping voluminous lungfuls of that scent - of you.
Deftly practiced fingers entrap your plummy clit and roll over not circles, not hearts- no, the letters of his name over n’ over. Branding the perked hood of your nub until you could feel your eyes burst with stars, Choso was ravenous.
“S’because- because it’s you.” He gasps out thickly, smooth baritone unsteady under the weight of all those tears painting smudged eyeliner down his pretty cheeks. “Your scent, n-not that ngh- perfume.” You’re flinching at the looong drag of his scratchy tastebuds dragging over your scented throat. Or, well, previously scented throat. He was addicted to you. “You have me- have me in heat, lil’ human, n’ it’s making me…”
Wild.
If Choso was any lesser man then he would’ve dragged you halfway down the bedcoils and thrown your legs haphazardly over his shoulders. Folding you in half to pound you into the mattress until you were dumb.
But, luckily for your dripping cunt, Choso was that lesser man right now.
He doesn’t think he feels alive - can’t even register his wheezing breaths once he’s manhandling you into the densest possible mating press.
Strong biceps rippling, chest heaving-
His fuzzy brain only sparks with recognition when Choso’s heavy breeder balls clench once, twice, thrice at the way your drooling pussy was laminating his rounded curve with a slimy coating of slick. That’s when he can feel himself actually startle, actually see.
And fuck, was it a sight enough to make him cum if he wasn’t so entranced with that prettily awestruck look on your face.
“Can’t even feel m-my legs, baby-” He’s spitting through clenched teeth, stray strands of coffee brown plastering all across his sweat-slicked forehead. And something in Choso’s voice was…dark. Dangerous. You were in trouble. “-can’t th-think of anything but ngh- breeding this pretty pussy right now.”
Oh.
Oh.
That’s what he meant by a heat.
“Mhm– my clever girl.” Shit- did you say that out loud? Rewarding your cutely spellbound mind with a hefty thud! thud! thud! right onto what feels like your lungs. He had all the time in the world to fuck you stupid, after all. “My mate.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Sweetener
“H-heh- say that again, silly human.”
“A pheromone perfume.” You’re squirming impatiently, words sticking to the back of your throat in saccharine gasps. And even the tiniest of gyrations leave Sukuna’s ruby-topped heads kissin’ sultry circles around your weeping hole.
Leave you wanting more.
Snickering, “A fucking- pheromone- what?”
The monstrous king of curses displays you with a rugged sneer that makes your folds even more impossibly watery. Just for those stupid words stumbling from your mouth, you’re gifted with one - two - three solid spanks, elongated black nails curling into the stinging mounds of your ass.
It’s all you can do to grapple on helplessly to the mountain of his toned shoulders, fingers clawing red train tracks that look more like kitten scratches on him. “K-Kuna–!”
“Don’t K-Kuna me, brat.” Raw need coats the scorching innards of your mouth when he only rolls his crimson eyes, burning hot. And out of all four of Sukuna’s beefy arms, it only takes one to latch onto the curve of your hips and hover you unstably over his doubly swollen cocks. Tutting, “What? You think some h-human perfume will control Ryomen Sukuna. I must’ve fucked ya dumb already.”
So mean.
But Sukuna always did have a soft spot for you.
And all is a single criss-cross of your wobbly arms, kiss-bitten lips puckering up into the beginnings of his only weakness – your pout.
“Fine. Fine, spoiled girl.” It works.
Yet, you’re shivering at the thwack! thwack! thwack! of his doughy-tipped fingers swatting your plump clit. Pecs puffing out with pride and smugness when your eyes glaze over at them and you stare.
It happens all at once. In an instant.
As soon as both of Sukuna’s round, throbbing cockheads crown the edges of your drooling pussy - he leans sultry inches closer and finally, finally smells it. That.
That scented perfume you’d found in your king’s centuries-old treasury, untouched and just ripe for your picking. For Sukuna to get hit with a thorough blast of it off of your heated skin, simply taking one whiff to addle his honed senses.
Undoing years upon years of painstaking training to make your great king of curses halt, jagged canines baring you with a predatory snarl. “Th-think this can affect oh-”
Who was he against you?
Your entire body vibrates when Sukuna’s chest rumbles with something carnal. Bursting from the very depths of his chest and making you shiver.
The thunderous noise has barely even stopped ringing in your ears before he’s latching on two massive hands to your waist and pulling you in. No care, no hesitation - nothing but drooling with the anticipation of being buried inside your slick-flooding pussy.
He needed it.
And he can feel his head fall headily backwards at the shuddering thud! of Sukuna’s two proud tips skimming the ends of your spongy cervix. Hooked fangs snatching onto the jut of his bottom lip at the bouncy recoil-
Fuck, he didn’t want to separate from your gummy walls for even a split-second. Even if it was to let your hips bounce in lecherous swivels up n’ down up n’ down up n’ down.
“Sh-shit, you’re in so ngh- deep.”
It’s a slow tempo, but you never got used to the stretch that was Sukuna’s staggering sizes.
Both aching cocks were so unfairly long and hard that he didn’t even have to try to smear his puffy veins over your awaiting g-spot. You swear both lengths reached well over a foot, and just having him bottom out had you scrambling to caress the inflated tummy bulge he was fucking into you.
Your jaw hangs open, a syrupy waterfall of saliva dribbling all over your chin. You’re not sure if Sukuna even registers the way he’s tenderly swiping away the overspilling excess with a fat thumb.
“Kuna?” You have to stop yourself from almost flinching away, feeling oh-so-shy at the burning heart-eyes in his gaze. The way a fourth arm was patting the sinful cylindrical outline leading up from your puffy pussy. Reaching an arm to stroke his sweat-matted pink locks, “A-are you okay?”
The moment your fingers skim any part - any minute millimeter - of Sukuna’s body, he’s whimpering. Whimpering.
And if that was the worst of it, then maybe he could have gathered up some semblance of his shattered dignity.
But Sukuna isn’t simply making pretty noises - he’s cumming.
One touch. And a thousand torrents of cum sugarcoating your claggy walls.
So much of it. Too much of it - it sweeps through your gluey walls and forms a little puddle ‘round his bulky bases. Creamily filthy mixtures of seed and slick ringing Sukuna’s base, they hit your perked clit with a wet pap! each time you’re milking him through his peaks.
“D-did you just-”
“Shut up.” He bites back, leaving you no time for the realization to sink in - before curling a vice-like hand around your throat and making you slam down your hips. “Shut up.”
Sudden, striking hits that bruise the curve of your ass just as much as it bruised your battered insides. You were so hot. So soft that it made him dizzy. Melty depths being contracted around thick lengths, the pace at which your greedy pussy was swallowing him up almost made the king want to whine-
“O-oh my god.”
It did make him whine.
With a creaking squeak! of cushion, Sukuna’s sculpted hips lurch off of the decadent royal mattress in repeated ruts. Animalistic.
“Shut up- I s-said ngh- s’not my fault.” He spits out, angry dewdrops of steamy pre being streaked out in twin ribbons into the back of your cunt. “Not my fault you just feel so- so ohhh- f-fuck you, brat. I-if the rest of ‘em found out…”
But Sukuna already knew he was weak for you. He knew.
Just not to this extent.
Not till just a simple cloud of your scent made his vision swim, a fresh wave of drool slipping n’ sliding from between the traitorous slit of his mouth. Both of them.
“M-mhm–” You find yourself smiling - maybe from his reaction, maybe from the way you were being fucked so thoroughly right. The knobbled tops of your knees skid easily across Sukuna’s drenched lap when you straddle him even even tighter, “S’that why-”
He wanted you to shut up. He needed you to shut up or else he was going to fucking cum again.
Which is why his second cursed mouth opens wiiiide to puff your cunt with steamily clouded pants. Before rolling out his tongue and dragging up the entirety of your bulging pussy. All overfilled with him.
“A-another word–” Sukuna’s seething through clenched teeth, but it’s no use. None. Not when the way you lean in to listen closer is enough to make the king blush, “-a-and I make you walk a- ngh! around the entire day with my cum all safe n’ sound inside..”
♡ INO TAKUMA - “U-use me?”
“Wh-what?”
And for the first time in hours, Ino manages to meet his hazy chestnut eyes with yours. Shivering. Half-lidded. “Use me.”
Fuck.
You thought your beloved boyfriend would regain his senses by the second round- no, perhaps the third time’s the charm.
Okay, maybe the fourth? The fifth?
But even after six looong rounds, your splintered bedframe was still trilling with shrill creaks; sagging uselessly on one end as strong, tannish arms stick ever-closer to your body like glue. Folding you into the meanest n’ tightest full nelson possible.
Still scorching. Still needy after getting hit with just a waft of that pheromone your friends bought you as a joke. A joke.
But this was anything but.
Ino can’t even bring himself to wipe away the wads upon wads of slippery drool leaking from his maw after every mushy thud of his globular cockhead against the very back of your goopy cervix. He can’t even think.
“Puh-please.” He’s hiccuping, soft tipped fingers clawing near the sweaty crown of your head to push you further down. Lapping a lazy stripe up your scented neck, “Just one more– ngh! Need you t-to use me to make yerself cum once more, sweetness.”
“M-more?”
And oh, your voice was warbling with such cute disbelief that it makes Ino groan. “Yes. Yes.”
Planting a few more vicious plunges of his strawberry pink tip into the target of your favorite sweet spots - Ino’s favorites, too. Especially once your puffy pussylips part with numerous geysers of slick, flooding translucent rings at his base.
All without even looking up from your neck.
He can’t.
Ino’s entire body wracks with tremors when he even tries to pull away a mere inch. Two. All that he can manage before nuzzling back in with heavy repeated pants.
You’re only getting wetter - and that maddening little perfume one you? Only stronger.
He swears - fuck, maybe he’s going crazy - that he can smell just how close you are, how your tummy’s tightening into wiry knots.
“But- but are you sure, baby–?” Your fingers scratch at the tawny ends of his damp locks, a primal itch so heavenly that he almost purrs. “M’wondering if you even can-”
“I can-” He’s cutting you off, free fingers straying down to the slightly-softening base of Ino’s furious cock and squeezing. Rutting up into you with wild abandon, “I can. I can- promise, sweetness, I promise.”
“Taku–”
And throughout Ino’s hazy mind, your words ring out like a death sentence. Like a punishment. Causing him to snap open his eyes with a sharp intaking gasp, round-topped curves of his knees manhandling your thighs further n’ further open.
You whine at the burning smear, head throwing backwards in a way that makes his slow rovering over your neck break away-
And if Ino was upset before, then he’s simply devastated now.
Sounding like he’s on the verge of sobbing, “No. No no no no no- don’t run, pretty.” Like catnip. Like a moth drawn to your frame, he’s wrapping his jittery forearms around you until you could count every twitch of his sculptured forearms. Crushing you in close. “Look at yourself- smell yourself. Fuck, I need it. M’not asking, m’b-begging you to use me like a…toy.”
He almost wishes he could bring himself to lurch away from that haven of pheromones dabbed across your skin.
Almost wishes he could do anything else but swivel a fat thumb across your weepy folds, bringing it allll the way up to his eager nose to steal a long sniff.
Filthy.
But it’s exactly what makes Ino’s swollen cock perk up with an animalistic flinch inside of you, probing into the target of your g-spot dead on.
“Shit- shit— y-you just got so much bigger.” Your vision flashes blissful white when his length stiffens into even longer n’ sold inches, swabbing at your precious cunt with pressurized pounds. And whatever ounces of blood left in his melty mind? Oh, they’re sprinting all the way down Ino’s boiling veins to end up bloating his throbbing cock.
Getting hard just by the smell of you.
“O-oh.” You’re being bounced on top of his toned pecs when they dip with a sudden hitched breath. “Yes. Yes yes yes, jus’ like that. Love everythin’ about this ngh- pussy, she’s started smelling sweeter e-even here, too. Fuck, you’re a goddess, pretty.”
Sounding as if he was in such heavenly agony - husky voice cracking a few octaves higher. His hold so vice-like on you that you can already feel yourself bruising.
Sloppier. Needier.
Shit- Ino needed to see that dumbstruck look surely being fucked onto your face. He’s finding himself moving - body before mind - to face that reflective, floor-length mirror propped up at the end of your bed.
He always knew that thing would come in handy.
You’re croaking out a moan at the wet texture of Ino’s mouth watering, sprinkling your heated skin with spatters of spit.
But who could blame him?
It was such a sultry sight - to watch your bloated lips be pried apart by his reddened circumference, spraying out saturated glazes of your sweet, sweet juices each and every time.
“See? See?” Ino’s murked puffs tinge with something higher-pitched and wild. Pearly white edges of his teeth sink into your delicate lobe, and make your skin break out in goosebumps. “How fucked you have me. Think m’gonna hngh- die if I don’t fuh-fuck this pretty pussy. If I don’t make you cum-”
Shit, he doesn’t even want to imagine the thought.
Your kiss-bitten mouth slackens into a loose oh! “Wanna- I wanna cum, Taku—” Twisting your head ‘round to face him with a slight pout that makes his entire body jolt.
“Y-yeah?” So, so pretty with a dopey smile being spread all across his face, you’re leaning in to kiss the cratering dimple at the edge of his plump lips. “C’mon. Fuck back into me- ngh- use me ta make yerself cum.”
You’re heading his every word, thighs aching at the fatigued pain of bouncing your hips in a resounding pap! pap! pap! Grinding your treacly slit all the way back into his fattened balls, “L-like this?”
“Atta girl. Harder, now.” His brows furrow. “Harder.”
More more more.
Words petering out halfway into a snarl at this point, you glimpse at the glint of Ino’s sharp canines peeking through the mirror. “Fuck me. Fuck me, pretty.”
“Taku.”
And you’re not sure who wanted you to cum more - you, or your feverish boyfriend.
But your spellbound self had some semblance of an answer when the sound of his name on your honeyed tongue makes Ino flinch as if hit with a zillion volts of electricity.makes him dart down a hand to grace your neglected clit with an oh-so-rude pinch.
Ino’s fuzzy brain wasn’t even working enough to remember those patterns you loved so much. To remember just how to make his body move.
All he knew was that he needed this.
Needed the way you’re arching your spine into the perfect curvature against his glissading front, head thrown back with a mewl of Taku—! once you finally tip over the edge.
He finds his mouth falling gape, “Y-you’re so fucking hot.” Eyes locked on the trembly image of you in the mirror, he fucks you through every white-hot peak of your high. Babbling away,”Did your dear Taku m-make you cum, sweetness? Does it feel good?
Oh, the audacity of him to tip a few thick digits underneath your chin and force you to nod.
Giggling, “Thought so-” And then it happens. Then, he leans in for a sweet, sweet kiss as he usually does - only to be wafted with a murky cloud of pheromone perfume. Again. You watch as Ino blushes a soft pink, “Hey, p-pretty…so…”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Everyday is everyday.
Everyday means everyday - and it still wouldn’t be enough. Not even after so many countless rounds and rounds.
Never, for a Gojo Satoru that has to grit his pearly white teeth viciously to stop himself from using just an ounce too much of his strength on your pliable body and breaking you.
Snarling canines peeking out just when he nestles your legs over two broad shoulders and bends down, down, down in half.
“Hngh- please—” Your chin hits the heaving edges of your chest at the burn of the sheer stretch. Gojo’s muscular thighs sticking against your own and pressing into the inflated little pouch he’d made at your tummy. Filled to the brim with his sappy cum-
“Th-that’s all your fault, y’know–” He’s hissing, handsome jaw clenching desperately to stop those tremoring keens from invading his words. He fails. And Gojo can already tell by the smug smile curling your lips, “-all b-because of you and that fuck! damn perfume.”
Nevermind that he was the one that bought it for you in the first place - some niche, overpriced brand dropped straight into your lap.
Nevermind the fact that he had come up with the idea.
Oh, you should’ve known that this is what wearing pheromone perfume around the strongest would get you.
Because Gojo Satoru was breaking - shattering.
Every pressurized thrust of his leaking out a new wave of overstimulated pre frosting up your slicked entrance. Accompanied hand-in-lecherous-hand with shockwaves of cursed energy that make your unbolted furniture drag magnetized centimeters all the way towards the creaking bed.
“Sh-shit your p-powers—” you’re whining, eyes widening at the hazy sight of blue lightning flickering across Gojo’s sweat-lathered body.
“My p-p-powers, huh, sweetheart?” He’s leaning in to whisper, eyes wide. Wild. Breath hitching so many octaves higher that it sends your spine arching with a goosebumped chill. All into his awaiting touch, “And whose- fault- is that—?”
You’re not sure if you’re a genius - or just plain idiotic. Because even feeling the withheld power being those very same soft palms holding your boneless thighs up, you find it in yourself to snark. “Yours.”
And Gojo almost stops.
If that didn’t torture him just as much as that would torture you, that is. Instead, he’s slowing down to sleazy drags n’ grinds pressing gluey peck after peck on your cervix.
Such sweet, sweet leisure - yet, his words were tense. He breathes out a shallow cloud of air, “Whose?”
Gojo’s tone was dangerous. And his battering rams even more so.
“Y-y- ngh!” Saved by a particularly hard slam of all his copious inches digging into your glutinous g-spot, it leaves a bulky circular branding that stings deliciously with every targeted buck.
You can feel yourself slowly being fucked into stupidity with every swash of thickly viscous cum swirling around your insides. And you already know by the buzzing pressure around his cerulean eyes that he was taking unfair advantage of his Six Eyes to make sure his veiny cock reaches each and every single spot inside your pretty pussy.
Locking your dangling ankles with one hand behind his head - the noticeable flex of Gojo’s pale biceps makes you moan.
Trapped.
Oh- how pretty you were like this, he muses, eyeing the wobbly quiver of your needy lips. Both of them. And you were so loud, too - your saturated cunt so desperate to chat up at him with ringing squelches that carry over your adorable noises.
Maybe he should let you hit him with a waft of that special pheromone perfume more often.
His round nostrils flare, hyper-sensitive senses greedily gulping out each ounce and waft you’re letting off. Every repeated pap! of Gojo’s hipbones follows one of his choked-out syllables, “I said- Whose?”
Someone sobs - and only a few sloppy seconds do you realize that it’s you. Words coming out helplessly garbled, “M-mine.”
At that very moment, a dimly-lit lamp across your heady bedroom shatters.
Sharp shards of glasses bounce off the two of your fervently glissading bodies, limitless.
But if that was taxing for the strongest - then he doesn’t show it. Not even a sign. Gojo only angles his hip a few degrees to the right to bounce into your spongy cervix even harsher. In rough, jagged strokes as if it was nothing.
In fact, by the filmy glaze overtaking his hooded eyes, you think that it might just be nothing. You think that he might not even have realized what was happening.
Pressing a drunken trailway of kisses down the helpless curve of your calf, he grins. Toothy. Animalistic. “Atta girl.”
Pulpy soft tips of Gojo’s fingers slide sneakily down to your messy pussy, drivelling up slow slides up and down your teary entrance. Just until you were getting comfortable - just until you were letting your guard down. Silly girl.
Before slipping past your tight ring of resistance and prying you open doubly. And oh, you should’ve expected that when Gojo gets the job done - he’s going above and beyond to make sure you remember it.
That you’re his.
Pummeling right into the throbbing bullseye of your g-spot, the edges of his long digits hit that spot so hard that you find yourself bawling. Eyes snapping open- before promptly closing as you cum.
Your high is a shock - a white-hot mess of such euphoria.
Tipping right over the edge - and it might’ve been a surprise to you, but Gojo saw it coming a mile away with those special eyes of his. Chuckling to himself at the velvety smooch of your sappy walls milking every inch of him.
“There we go- there we g-go, my girl.” He’s pumping you so thoroughly full that you feel your vision blur, the vibrating buzz of Gojo’s cursed energy being fed into you with each strike. “Cum- cum f’me. H-heh, all because- because of me-”
Your tits bump up into his plush pecs, sensitive nubs of your nipples brushing against his rosy pink ones. You’re reaching out a trembling hand to cup Gojo’s pretty face - one he leans into and kisses. “T-Toru—!”
Just about all you can manage out.
And your orgasm might not have been a surprise to him, but Gojo’s own absolutely was.
It happens in a split second - just after that nickname spills from the honeyed tip of your tongue.
Gojo’s snowy lashes flutter upwards, sweat-slicked brows raising all the way to the edges of his silky fringe. Bubblegum lips parting into an oh! only falling further and further slack with every creamy ribbon shot upwards into you.
It floods, it pours. And you can feel your flooded pussylips overspilling before he’s even halfway through his orgasm.
Oozing out glutinous wads of cum with every pump - Gojo had no rhythm now, he had no rhyme. Nothing but the carnal need to push every ounce of his fatly beading seed deeper n’ deeper into your pretty pussy, heated pink crownhead swirling out what feels like hearts at the very door to your womb.
You’re so full you could explode-
A hand rovers over that inflationary bulge - bigger now. “Oh, sweetheart…”
Was that really your loving boyfriend? He sounded so ruined right about now, hoarse. You couldn’t even blink your eyes up to make out the expression on his face because the lights had exploded. Possibly in every ward of Tokyo.
You feel it before you see it.
The familiar, shrill puff! of that pheromone perfume being sprayed on you- what?
With a sharp gasp, you’re looking back n’ forth between the shiny sheen of liquid spritzed once more over your skin and Gojo’s ever-loving smile.
“Oh, whoops.” Soft snickers punctured with a loooong sniff of the air - of you. And Gojo’s eyes take on a predatory glint that makes your entire body wrack with shivers. “Better hope you’re on ngh- b-birth control, girl.”
“...”
A/N. Fun fact, the entirety of Sri Lanka had a six hour power cut while I was writing this because some monkey jumped onto a power line </33
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