What happens when the wrong people meet? Well, they latch onto each other like ...
▸ PARASITES
Summary ⫶ All you needed was attention and validation — and it came in the form of Toji Fushiguro. Not really, though, because that man was feeding you scraps, and you were a fool to eat out of his hand. (WC : 8.2k)
Warnings ⫶ MDNI, Toji x fem!reader, toxic relationship on both ends, smut, angst, harassment (not from Toji), manipulation, drinking, mentions of throwing up, Toji's an asshole, reader has obsessive tendencies, f.masturbation, consensual but hollow sex, lack of proper aftercare, no happy ending
an ⫶ art credit to @/to00fu. Reupload from my old blog bluukive. Also warning for mediocre writing lmfao this was my first longfic
The night was doomed before it even started.
Why you bothered to frequent these kinds of bars, you didn't know — the ones with low ceilings, sticky floors and sleazy men who wanted nothing more than just a quick fuck. But you were there anyway, putting on an act of bravado and pretending like the burn in your throat was because of the alcohol.
Countless glasses, you may add. One by one, the glasses stacked in front of the bar counter top before you — until the strobe lights above you bled into one and you felt the need to vomit.
You grimaced, head beginning to pound in time with the music. Nothing seemed to matter anymore, and the taste of dish soap lingered heavily on your tongue. The drinks were beginning to taste foul, and that was when you decided to go home for the night.
"Fuck my life," you muttered as the world seemingly began to spin. The cold night air did nothing to alleviate the buzz in your body — the sort that made everything seem so sharp yet so distant at the same time.
You were hoping the wind would sober you up a little, bring your mind out of the endless fog it seemed to be stuck in. But it didn't. That poor phone in your hand was a victim of your frustrations.
You typed your password in once. Wrong.
Again. Wrong.
And again. Still wrong.
By the time you had hit the fifth attempt, your phone glared back at you, locking you out for ten whole minutes. How were you meant to call a cab now?
"Oh, for fuck's sake," you hissed out, voice wobbling. The pressure behind your eyes only grew as you frantically looked around for a—
Payphone.
The red booth across the street was your salvation — an ancient sort of fossil that had chipping red paint and was used by no one.
Except for drunken passerby's like yourself.
You staggered over haphazardly, barely looking both ways as you crossed the road. It was a miracle you didn't end up on the news that night because of your very poor decisions, but you'd have time to mull over it later.
As of now, you had pushed the door open, wincing when the hinge screeched in protest and covering your nose when the stale scent of piss and old water hit your nose.
But a shelter was a shelter, nonetheless, and you would simply have to make do.
You tried pressing a button, but it was stiff with rust and old age. Each time, you jabbed your finger harder, until they carried the coppery dusting of rust with them also.
Click.
Nothing.
"Come on, please," you muttered frantically, the hand holding the phone paling at the knuckle. "Fucking— work already!"
Someone snorted behind you.
You flinched, whipping your head too quickly and bumping it into sturdy glass. A man happened to be standing at the booth's entrance — clearlynot intimidating in the slightest, but that smile of his wasn't . . . right.
He had the nerve to entertain your panic as well, blocking your only way out of the booth . The stranger was comfortable, too comfortable for your liking.
"Doin' alright, sweetheart?" He grinned, leaning in like he had a history with you. And you recoiled, jaw tight as the first wave of stale beer on his breath hit you. "Need some help gettin' home?
"I'm fine, th-thanks." Your voice wasn't at all receptive of the man's advances, drawn tight as you tried to push past his way. But the man didn't budge. Not even an inch.
The man dragged his eyes down then back up with a leer that chilled you to the bone. Predatory. "Ya sure? I mean, I can't have a pretty thing like you wanderin' the streets alone. Might get hurt . . . no?"
At that you barged past, which probably wasn't the right thing to do in hindsight, but who'd seriously think rationally at a time like this? Your stomach was churning, and bile only seemed to crawl its way up your throat instead of staying down.
"I said I'm fine. Please move out of the way." You slipped by him, yet tensed when his harsh grip found your elbow.
"Woah, woah, woah. Relax, little lady, 'm only trying to help—"
But then his touch vanished.
Fast, like your skin had scalded him.
"What the fuck—?" It was comical the way the stranger slipped onto his ass and right onto the wet sidewalk. Hell, he even deserved worse. But the large hand that swatted him with terrifying ease had retreated — and there you saw him.
Another man — just your damn luck —who was too tall for his own good. What caught your eye wasn't the bulging muscles he sported, or that shaggy crop of black hair laying haphazardly on his head. No, it was the scar cutting down his lip and the look on his rugged face.
He didn't swoop in like some sort of superhero you would daydream of in class. Nor was there an ounce of anger in his expression. He looked pissed at the fact he had to involve himself in some bullshit that didn't even matter at the end of the day.
"Move. You reek of piss," he said, tone flat as he looked down through his bangs. The guy scrambled up, puffing his chest like he wanted to argue back. But one good look from your saviour made him shut up in record time. Finally, he backed off after a moment of hesitation, muttering curses under his breath.
And then there was silence.
Aside from the thump thump thumping of your heart in your throat, of course.
The man — Toji, you'd learn soon enough — turned to you. How mesmerising it was to see the dingy streetlight glow above you both cut against his sturdy jaw. It caught on that scar your eyes kept getting drawn to, and you swallowed.
Toji finally turned to face you, looking at you over once. Twice. Unbothered. Detached, even. Like it was an inconvenience to get muddled in your business in the first place.
". . . you good?" he asked, voice low in a way that shouldn't have been comforting, but it was.
You nodded way too fast for your liking, patting down your face. "Uh— yeah, sorry. Thanks for that. I— my phone's locked and the booth wasn't cooperating and that guy came over and—"
"Breathe," Toji interrupted bluntly, "you're shaking like a goddamn leaf."
You looked down. Damn, your hands really were shaking. How pathetic.
Toji only sighed, like your predicament was more tiresome than anything else. With a jerk of his head towards the road, he pulled out his car keys and began walking. "C'mere. I'll drive ya home."
You should have said no, that you were perfectly capable of handling yourself.
And you definitely shouldn't have trailed after the strange man like a drunk stray imprinting on the first person to throw her a lifeline — especially when that man just reeked of bad decisions and danger.
But you were cold, clearly not sober, and all you wanted was to escape the cold and crash into bed as soon as you could. Maybe cry yourself to sleep out of self-pity for a while. Yeah, that's definitely why you followed Toji. He seemed to be the lesser evil between him and the alcohol.
Unfortunately for you, Toji would prove to be worse than a hangover over the coming months. But it couldn't have been completely your fault, right?
Or just maybe you weren't entirely innocent the moment you stepped into his life too.
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"You always drink alone on a Tuesday night?"
"No. Just had a bad day, thas' all."
Toji grunted, fingers drumming against the rickety steering wheel that creaked in protest whenever it veered to the side.
His car was honestly a wreck, and had you been sober, you wouldn't have gone in. But despite the scent of cigarettes hanging around you both like a cloud, there was something else filling your nostrils — something musky, masculine that you took comfort in whilst you slouched in the passenger seat.
The car went on, the only voice breaking the silence between you being the sat nav. You fidgeted, feeling the back of your neck prickle with an uncomfortable heat the longer Toji stayed silent. Then your mouth opened before you knew it.
"Well, it was more than just one. It's been a bad week, and it's only Tuesday."
Again, Toji stayed quiet, lazy eyes focused on the road ahead as he insisted on hitting every pothole he could find whilst going over the speed limit. You clutched your seatbelt tighter.
"I don't usually drink that much, I swear. I— I just got carried away."
Why was your mouth still running?
A heavy beat of silence. Toji clearly wasn't impressed.
"Uh-huuuh," was all that he said. He didn't even have it in him to mock you. No, he sounded bored, almost pitying your situation.
The remnants of alcohol continued to tug your jaw open, almost like a puppeteer. It loosened your tongue until you were positively oversharing aspects of your life you didn't want to acknowledge and keep buried six feet under.
"Shit's stupid. Parents rang after fuck knows how long. Got under my skin, y'know?" You laughed, the type of laugh people do when they're trying to shrug off something that was clearly a big deal. "So fuckin' stupid."
"Not really," Toji muttered, his voice barely audible against the rumble of his car. A stubby finger came up to awkwardly scratch his jaw, jaded eyes still on the road. "Just messy for no reason."
Messy.
Huh.
Well that was a word to sum up the entirety of the shit show that was your life. You could have cried, honestly. But you turned your face towards the window instead and watched the blur of city lights pass by. It was loud outside for a Tuesday night, but in the car? It felt small, quiet — not just because of how inhumanly big Toji was, but because of intimate it all felt.
Or maybe you were just imagining it. Who knew?
"Did I really look like that much of a loser back there?" You murmured.
Toji snorted. "To be honest, yeah. A little."
Shame curled in your gut and warmth bloomed across your face like a rapidly spreading fire. Your chest tightened and you opened your mouth to fire a quick retort, but Toji beat you to it.
"I've seen worse though. Thought you'd scream or cry or punch me like most drunks. Wouldn't be the first time that's happened, hah."
You blinked at him. "Did you really expect me to do all that?"
He momentarily let his eyes flicker towards you, lip quirked up at one side. "Dunno. You tell me, with those wide 'n glassy eyes of yours. Could've gone either way at that moment with unpredictable girls like you."
Girls like you. Now what the fuck did that mean—
"Like me?" You repeated, narrowing your eyes at Toji as you tried to decipher his words.
"Yeah, like you. The girls that think they know better," Toji remarked, blinking slowly. "But clearly don't."
The frustration and heat in you only bubbled up hotter inside you. What did he know, seriously? Yet Toji went on despite your agitation.
"You're one lucky lady. What would have happened if I didn't walk by, huh? You've got reaaal shit instincts barging into his shoulder like that."
"Tch. I knew he was a creep, at least."
"Right. Wasn't enough though, was it? Can't get dumber than that."
The words stung you. They really did — but a nauseatingly large part of you knew that he was right. You also accepted the fact that the man next to you wasn't some sort of saviour at all. No, he was also an asshole.
Toji wasn't trying to butter you up.
He had no intention of being a decent person.
But his honesty was what was getting to you. So was his momentarily validation of your drunk shenanigans from before. The foreign feelings were landing in a place within you that was originally barren, twisting into dependence.
Fuck knows how many seconds passed. You didn't even realise you were staring at Toji until he clicked his tongue.
"The fuck you staring at?"
"Nothing. Thanks for help back there. You really didn't have to . . ."
Toji's answer was instantaneous.
"You're right, yeah. I didn't," he grunted, turning into the street where you lived. "But fuck knows what would have happened if I didn't step in."
He was right.
"Consider it charity. Now you owe me one," Toji added, half kidding, half serious. You let out a dry laugh at that, glad that the atmosphere had lightened up somewhat. But you'd remember this moment in the near future and later still, when the promise of favours turned into something far nastier.
But in that instance, you simply nodded and let Toji drop you off home after exchanging numbers. Just in case he needed anything, he said. How considerate.
Toji didn't bother watching you make your way to your front door. The second he heard the passenger side door close, he was off with the engine spluttering in the distance. Your eyes trailed his vehicle until he was gone, and a small part of you hoped that this was just a one off encounter with the man.
Hoped.
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Turn on your phone. Find his number. Delete it. Simple, right?
Wrong.
That was the plan, at least, before you went to sleep that night half shaking from the shock of it all. But each time your thumb hovered above his number, you'd cringe and switch your phone off. You'll do it in the morning was what you told yourself.
Yet when you woke up with a mere four hours of sleep under your belt, the first thing you did was check to see if Toji had messaged.
Nope.
Of course he didn't. Why would he?
It was embarrassing to go about your morning, brush your teeth, and have breakfast whilst pretending it didn't sting. It shouldn't have stung. You barely knew the guy, and he was nothing but bad decisions and older muscles you happened to fantasise about during the quietest hours of the day.
And fantasies they should have stayed as.
As the days went on, you found yourself still tapping at the screen, waiting for something. Anything.
But no. Nothing whatsoever.
"Good," you had muttered, lying through your teeth as you worked shift after shift at the local convenience store. Shit job, for sure, but it helped you get by. Barely. But that was besides the point. Why was it good that Toji was ignoring you, you say?
Because the longer he went on without checking in, the easier it would be for you to move on, to let the whole ordeal fade into the background. That night at the bar could remain a drunken, blurry mistake.
It didn't though, did it? You just kept checking. Over and over.
Until your stomach turned with knots and an anxiety that crippled you. It wasn't like you were yearning for him or anything. It just felt so . . . abruptly, how he saved you that night and it fizzled away into nothing. Maybe it was the fact that you hated feeling so replaceable. Forgettable. What were you, just another drunk girl he happened to cross on a night out?
Then again, you hadn't bothered to text him first either. It worked both ways. Or maybe Toji was busy. Maybe he—
No.
You weren't about to spiral or cave in first like some sort of clingy ex-girlfriend. It was just one night. A coincidence that your paths happened to cross. But then your fingers picked up your phone right when you woke up one bleary morning.
. . .
► yn : thanks for helping me that night
You stared at the message for a moment. Deleted it.
► yn : hope you got home safe!
Deleted it again.
In the end, pettiness won over shame. You typed out a message and sent it before backing out.
► yn : still alive lolol?
Oh, you felt sick. Why did you do that, why did you do that, why did you—
► toji : yh
Oh.
Why did he reply so quickly?
—
Well on Toji's end, he didn't think too much about it.
He was busy doing, y'know, nothing in his own shitty apartment. His phone buzzed once on the kitchen counter whilst he was burning some eggs. Was probably nothing, but he checked it anyway with a swipe of his greasy thumb he didn't bother cleaning.
"Who the fuck . . ."
► drunk girl with nice tits : still alive lolol?
Ah. Right, her.
► toji : yh
There. That was easy.
He scratched the side of his stomach where his tank top had ridden up, watching the butter spit and pop in the pan. There wasn't much going on in his head either. Toji wasn't thinking about you, or the night he helped you out. He wasn't even thinking about the 'favour' you owed him. Whatever that meant.
If Toji was being honest, he had forgotten about you the day after dropping you off home.
But despite his apparent lack of concern, Toji's body jolted. It wasn't out of excitement or concern or anything in between. It was simply just . . . a cheap, shallow sort of interest Toji got when he went out to gamble on horses.
He stared at the message, feeling needed for the first time in his life. The eggs in the pan continued to burn. Toji's phone buzzed again.
► drunk girl with nice tits : haha niceee whats up
Fork in one hand, phone in the other with a face as blank as an empty canvas.
► toji : eating rn
Another reply from you, instantaneous. You were a persistent little thing. Or desperate. Same thing to Toji, really.
► drunk girl with nice tits : oh mb, i wont bother u
Great, you were one of them — the sort to apologise for every little thing it appeared. But Toji supposed that had its benefits, like the fact that you'd probably be easy to push around without much effort on his end.
► toji : nah its fine. didnt say its a bother
► drunk girl with nice tits : oh. ok coolcool
Toji chewed on his eggs slowly, trying to picture your face at that moment. Pah, you probably had that wide eyed look on your face, overthinking each and every word after rereading it a good five times. He went back to typing lazily, thumb hovering over the screen.
► toji : someones hyper this morning. had too much coffee?
Instantly, your typing bubble popped up, and that told Toji everything he needed to know. He felt that spark of interest again — a pointless little thing, but it was enough to catch his interest. For now.
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Wrong — coffee had nothing to do with it. You were wide awake, running off pure adrenaline, blankets pooled uselessly around your waist as you typed faster than your brain could comprehend.
► yn : nah, just woke up a bit ago lol
► toji : first thing you do is text me?
You dropped back onto your saggy pillows with a strangled noise — half tempted to just scream instead. Was Toji teasing you? Or did he actually mean it? You couldn't tell which was the lesser evil out of the two.
"Get a fucking grip," you whispered to yourself, shoving the blankets off of you when the room suddenly felt too hot.
► yn : u wish, was just checkin the time n remembered u existed
That was a pathetic lie coming from you, but telling the truth to Toji was even worse by default.
You gnawed on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut, realising that it was you — the impulsive idiot involving yourself with a man who quite frankly didn't spare you a single thought.
"Why, why, why am I like this," a groan left you as you dragged your hands down your face. No way Toji was going to believe you. But did he really care enough to call you out?
Your phone buzzed.
► toji : sure baby
"Who the fuck is he calling baby?" The snort that left you was incredulous as you shot back a response. This back and forth proved to be more exciting than you'd like to admit, and your heart pounded the more you fixated on that one word. Baby.
► yn : dont call me that. thats gross
► toji : whatever you say baby
And that was the end of that. Toji had enough for one day. He didn't come back online, and you weren't about to beg for a response.
"Asshole," you muttered, throwing an arm over your eyes. Your face was warm, a weird feeling having settled in your chest at the exchange. You wanted more. You also wanted to throw your phone against the wall.
You chose to roll over onto your stomach instead, burying your face into your pillow like it'd smother the prickling of embarrassment stabbing at your skin.
Your fault for texting.
Your fault for latching onto some stranger like this.
His fault for calling you 'baby'.
"Get a fucking life." You curled your fingers into the sheets, still feeling the effect of the pet name he so carelessly threw your way. An eye cracked open, glancing at the phone beside you. You jolted as it lit up, gasping before slumping in defeat. Not Toji.
The chat between you both opened before you could realise, and you laid on your side, hoping that he'd come back online.
It was so humiliating, yet so addictive.
Yet you wondered anyway if he'd come back, just for another minute.
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The days after you had texted Toji were quiet, but that was how life always had been before him — a measly two weeks ago.
There were no texts, no more of that 'baby' you found yourself fawning over.
Nothing but the lingering humiliation tapping against your skull when you remembered how you had texted him first and sat there like a puppy waiting for him to text back again.
Well, fine. If that was what Toji wanted to do — disappear without a word for another week, so be it. The bastard wasn't anything special. You didn't even know the guy—
"Do you want your break now or later?"
The snapping sound of bubblegum popping dragged you out of your miserable thoughts. Your coworker stood there, unamused as you swiped through the groceries of some mother carrying a toddler.
"Uh, later," you muttered, your coworker shrugging and walking off. Had you taken the break, you wouldn't have had some sort of distraction.
The shift however, dragged on. Flickering store lights above you hummed incessantly and the monotone 'beep' of the scanner became its own form of torture.
I wonder what Toji's doing.
No, you weren't.
The thought appeared out of nowhere, making you shake your head and drop a box of cereal into a customer's bag more aggressively than they would have liked.
"Sorry about that, rough day," you chuckled awkwardly, somewhat apologetic as they walked off with a tut. You and your big mouth . . .
You drummed your finger against the counter, eyes cast low as you thought about everything but him.
The same him that had picked up a pack of energy drinks, a stick of gum, protein bars, and . . . condoms?
You didn't need to look up. Your body seemed to know he was there before your brain did, and the air grew infinitely thicker. To you, at least.
Toji stepped into your line of vision when you finally raised your head in all his aggravating glory. He seemed even taller in a brighter light and it irked you that he didn't seem at all interested in who was before him.
Your eyes snagged back down to the items — specifically the condoms. Extra large, no surprise there. Your throat felt tight when you swallowed, and Toji looked at you properly — as if only just realising that you existed.
". . . you again," he drawled, lazily cocking his head to the side.
No excitement at all. Just recognition that was barely there. And it was enough to twist your stomach into a knot.
Your sweaty fingers scanned the items quickly, fumbling for a moment when they touched the box of condoms. "Uh, yeah."
Real smooth.
"Jumpy again. Always seems to be the same deal with you." Toji's eyebrow raised a fraction.
"Pfft, no," you blurted — way too fast, and way too defensive.
The man only hummed at that, like he didn't believe a single word that came out of your lying little mouth. You packed his things quickly whilst his eyes landed on your name badge — or your tits, you didn't know.
Your eyes were on the condoms that were right. There.
And so a flurry of thoughts you didn't want filled your mind yet again.
Who was he using them with?
Fuck, did he have a girlfriend? Or maybe a boyfriend . . . he must be good in bed. His cock must feel good, right? Extra large really is no joke—
Your stomach lurched painfully.
Get. A. Grip. Get a fucking grip—
"Gonna stand there or tell me how much this shit costs? I'm a busy man, y'know?" Toji's voice cut through whatever was going on in your head, his finger tapping on the counter between you.
You jolted, tugging at your collar with a nod. Only four more hours until you could go home.
"Yeah, my bad. That comes to a total of £11.48. Cash, I assume?"
"Yeah. Cash," he muttered, handing you a crumpled £20. You reached forward, fingers brushing against his. That only served to drag you further into your internal dilemma.
Toji's lipped tugged — not quite a smile, but rather a twitch. Like he knew what was going on.
Parasite recognising parasite.
He was a sucker for those little reactions, that clingy way you moped after him. Toji shouldn't have cared, but he watched you like a goddamn hawk.
Really watched you.
Like he was picking apart each tremble of your hand, the faraway look in your dazed eyes, the way your breathing had picked up — his observation was nothing short of predatory.
And you were none the wiser.
"You work here, huh? Small world, baby."
Yeah, no shit.
It took all your effort not to choke on a breath as you handed him his bag. "Yeah, small world indeed. Any plans for tonight?"
You regretted those words the second it left your mouth.
Toji paused, fingers hooking into the handles of the bag of items before he looked back at you. The look in his green eyes was unreadable, and he leaned in close enough for you to smell whatever cheap soap he had used on himself.
"Plans, huh?" He echoed lowly. "Depends on how many of these bad boys I can get through. Might only be half."
Of course he was talking about the condoms. You watched, mortified, as he looked down at them, then back up at you. Deliberately slow. And then the expression on his face shifted into something that punched the air out of your trembling chest.
Heat flooded your entire body. Head, ears, chest, everywhere.
Toji didn't need to elaborate. He didn't need to.
Not when your brain filled in the blanks with utter filth.
He straightened, self-satisfied and grinning like he was entertained by the way your face dropped a fraction. You tried hard not to let it show, you really did. But it was impossible. And really, it was the highlight of Toji's fucking day.
"See you around, I suppose. Make sure you get home in one piece."
The automatic doors of the store opened as Toji left, slid closed behind him. You were left with burning eyes and the deafening sound of the blood rushing to your ears.
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"Mmh, fuck, fuck, fuck. S'not even fair," you sniffled to yourself.
Your room was dark that same night, save for the soft glow of your phone.
What was it open on?
Your messages with Toji. Nothing new on there, not even a profile pic. Just a bad taste of a dry conversation from a week ago.
His earlier words spun in your head like a mantra. So did the image of those extra large condoms. You didn't know when it happened, but your hand had slipped down. You cupped your clothed cunt, squeezing your thighs together to alleviate the sharp throbbing, but to no avail. That was when you decided, fuck it, you should just get off. Just once.
It was so fucking stupid. There shouldn't have been a reason for you to get off in the silent sanctuary of your bedroom when Toji was probably balls deep in some other woman. But the fantasies of it being you instead was far too delicious.
His mouth. Hands. Cock.
Oh, how it should've been you instead he was looming over, tearing open that silver packet with his teeth. How big was he to need extra large condoms? How big would he have looked in your hand—
Your hips jerked at that.
Then your free hand clutched at the sheets below. Round and round the fingers of your other hand went, pressing down on your clit and moving faster as you chased something, someone, you shouldn't have had your mind on.
The breathe rattled out of you as a tear squeezed out of your eye. Toji's voice wouldn't shut up.
"Only half."
"Only half."
"Only half."
Would Toji save the other half for someone like you? He had to. You were stupid enough to tremble when his fingers brushed against yours, when he leaned in too close.
You'd fold in half without him asking. Why wouldn't he choose you?
It was too much. The thought of being under him made you mewl out into the darkness, and a fresh, hot wave of slick left your cunt. You grinded helplessly into your palm, and the shame came back in floods.
"H-hate it, so much," you sobbed into your pillow once you had turned over and gotten onto all fours. You'd never say it out loud but you yes, you were coming to the thought of a man who had blatantly bought condoms in front of you.
And fuck, you came hard.
Quietly.
Your fingers slowed down, body twitching as the aftershocks of your release stole your breath away. A long moment passed before you could muster up any movement, and then your eyes cracked open — red and watery.
Disgust was all you could feel. But alongside something else, too. Because even though your release was tainted with self-loathing . . .
You already wanted to do it again. And again. And again.
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From that night onwards, you felt dirty. Tainted.
The next morning, you stood at the sink with the water scalding hot, scrubbing furiously at your fingers until your skin felt raw. No matter how much soap gurgled down the drain, the feeling wouldn't go away. It had burrowed its way under skin and stayed there, refusing to be washed away.
But it wasn't just your hands you tried so hard to clean.
You avoided looking at yourself for too long in the mirror, avoided going on your phone. That's it, you were done with Toji completely. Whatever rut you were in was over the moment you climaxed on your fingers in the dark, shame sitting like a dead weight in your gut.
Yet it kept coming back.
Flashes of him here and there. Fragments of fantasies that'd never come to life.
Your body reacted without fail each time. You'd be alone on the couch, in your bed — anywhere quiet enough for your thoughts to roam rampant in your mind. Then suddenly you'd be pressing your thighs together, mind latching onto each interaction until your fingers dipped low once more.
Just one more time, to get rid of the emptiness was what you told yourself. So you'd stop thinking about him. But each orgasm only dragged you deeper into the hell that was Toji. It never truly worked.
Across countless streets, Toji was sprawled in the midst of his own sheets. One beefy arm had been thrown over his eyes to shield himself from the sun's morning rays. The apartment smelt faintly of sweat and sex — and the woman beside him knew it was time to leave. She tugged her clothed on, movements unhurried yet detached.
"Good over there?" She asked, more out of obligation than genuine concern.
Why did it matter? They both got what they wanted, so she could see herself out. But Toji didn't say that. He simply grunted.
"Yeah, fine."
Always fine.
The door clicked shut not long after, and Toji didn't move from his position.
The sex was okay, he supposed. He came. She probably did. It didn't scratch the itch as well as he thought it would, but Toji should've expected that. It was all so mechanical the way he pumped his hips back and forth, barely brushing his fingers against his hookup's clit.
Throughout it all, Toji found himself bored, thinking about someone else.
A pair of wide eyes. Shaky hands. A nice pair of tits.
How bothersome.
Toji reached out for his phone before he could stop himself, cracking open a lazy eye. Your name winked back at him, taunting and waiting. No messages from you, which was a shocker — but you had been online.
His thick thumb hovered, still the slightest bit pruned from sliding through the wetness of the other woman.
► toji : got work again any time soon?
And just like that, whatever progress you made had been undone.
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Saturday came round faster than you had liked. You had been tense all shift as you restocked countless shelves and swept the floors.
Each minute dragged on terribly so. Each tick of the clock, each squeal of a trolley's wheel, the beep of the registers — the noises made your stomach drop and hairs stand on end.
Toji said he'd pop by. Pay his favourite cashier a little visit.
He didn't specify when, only vaguely mentioned that he'd be there. Careless words thrown your way without a second thought. Yet you kept replaying them.
Get a grip. He's probably lying. Asshole.
Yet you still carried that inkling of hope as you folded paper bags with trembling fingers, movements clumsy even if you had carried out those mundane tasks before.
By the time it was the end of your shift, exhaustion had gripped you, formed from sheer anticipation alone.
You tugged on your jacket, patting yourself down to make sure you had all of your belongings before leaving for the night.
"Fuckin' liar. Knew he was a good for nothing, lying prick—"
Bzzz.
► toji : outside.
That was it. No greeting. Not even a little emoji. But your mouth went dry and you stumbled out of the staffroom. You fanned your face, suddenly feeling warm and . . . giddy. He was here. Seriously here.
Not bothering to reply, you walked out of the convenience store, eyes wide in the way Toji found amusing. It felt unreal, like your body was on autopilot. The night air hit your warm face, and there he was.
Hands in his pockets, leaning against the glass windows you spent a while cleaning. But it didn't matter. He was here. Already, Toji was watching you. Assessing.
"Yeah?" He scoffed, pushing off of the window and standing before you. "Well, I'm here now."
Eugh. You could smell cigarettes when he stepped close, but there was that scent of soap again accompanying something sweet. Something musky. You cleared your throat and nodded, a flash of sweaty bodies running through your mind again.
"And . . . I've finished my shift," you blurted out dumbly. God, you hated how hopeful you sounded. He could probably hear it as you picked at a stray bit of thread on your sleeve.
Toji grunted, smirking down at you. "That's nice, ain't it? Wasn't sure how long you'd keep me waiting after I texted you."
"Well, I'm here now. Did you need something from me, or . . ?" You stamped your foot down and blew at your clasped hands in an attempt to warm up. It was a cold night, and each word drew out a visible puff of air from both of you.
Still predatory as he looked down at you.
"You look cold," Toji pointed out, like he was commenting on the weather. He sounded amused. "Kinda skittish, too. Do you always get like that when I'm around, or am I special?"
Heat tickled its way up the back of your neck. Each of his damn observations about you always seemed right on the mark, and it pissed you off. "I'm not skittish, I'm cold. And I didn't think you were gonna show up, if I'm bein' honest."
"Yeah? Said I'd come by, though, 'n here I am."
You swallowed. "You also kinda disappear for days at a time.
. . .
"That I do."
Still looking at you. Calm and unreadable, as always.
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words — mainly cuss words on your end because how dare he play you like a fiddle? Your heartbeat drummed all the way down to your fingertips, your toes. Then Toji exhaled deeply through his nose.
"Any plans for tonight?"
". . . no. None."
"Thought so," he murmured, and something in his demeanour shifted. There was intent behind that stony look on his face — and quite frankly, it intrigued you. But so did everything else about the man. "Not really feelin' like spending the night alone."
Your body went hot. He cocked his head to the side and shoved his hands in his pockets like he had made the decision for you already.
"C'mon, baby," Toji turned his back to you, presumably heading to where his car was parked mere meters away.
"Let's go back to my place."
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The ceiling was on off-white, almost eggshell colour. There was a crack that ran horizontally above you, and you let your eyes trace it. It was nice that the sheets you were tangled up in were warm — even if they did smell of sweat, cheap soap and regret.
You felt loose, not in a 'thoroughly-fucked-out' way — but in a way that made you feel as if you were a sack of skin. No organs, not even a thumping heart. You were a sack of skin, and the only thing you could feel was Toji's cum leaking out of you having run cold.
He was beside you, one arm hanging off the bed as he smoked. No cuddling, no towel wiping you up between the legs, no words of reassurance that you had been good.
Absolutely nothing.
Yet you waited anyway. That always seemed to be the case between you and Toji. You waited.
Seconds stretched on, turning into minutes as your mind tried to rationalise it all. Maybe he needed a second to catch his breath or to finish the cigarette. Any moment now, surely—
He didn't.
It all seemed so far away, with your legs rendered numb and sticky sheets tacky against your soiled skin. Dirty, dirty, so fucking dirty.
When you shifted slightly, you half-hoped that the movement would draw his attention to you. That proved to be nothing more than foolish fantasies when he stubbed out his cigarette with a bored yawn, closing his eyes shut.
Your chest ached.
Blunt nails dug into your palms as the memories of last night surfaced to the top, unrestrained and unwanted. They didn't come all at once, but instead in broken fragments that made your eyes prickle with tears.
ـــــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ LAST NIGHT
"Lock the door."
You did, trailing after him like some sort of pathetic mutt. His apartment was no better than yours — barely lived in and dim. But at least your own place had a warmth to it. Here, you just felt like an intruder.
There was a faint buzzing you couldn't pinpoint. Could've been the fan, could've been the fridge. You didn't know. But that was soon forgotten when you stepped into Toji's bedroom. Yellowed streetlights bled onto hulking skin as he removed his shirt. He didn't bother turning the lights on, simply expecting you to strip after him.
Was this how sex was meant to be?
You've only ever done it maybe twice before with shitty ex-boyfriends whose names you couldn't remember, but even those encounters were better than . . . whatever this was.
"Virgin?"
You shook your head, deciding to take the initiative and take your clothes off yourself. You felt small as Toji watched, like he was inspecting, so you pushed your chest out, nipples admittedly stiff as you tried to get him to say something nice. Nothing.
"Good, makes it easier f'me."
Foreplay wasn't . . . great. A swipe of his thick fingers between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' soaked, huh? You say you aren't a virgin but you're drippin' like one, hah."
"Sh-shut up, hah. Just get on with it," you blurted, covering your face with your hands. Pleasure licked at your spine, causing it to arch into his touch. Arousal mounted, and so did anticipation — but when you peeked between your fingers? Toji looked bored as he jacked his cock into full hardness with his free hand.
He was big, there was no doubt about it. But what use was it when he looked like he was about to fuck you out of obligation and not arousal?
Your face fell, until he slid a finger in. Immediately clenching, you sucked in a harsh breath of air. Nothing from Toji again as he pumped it in, out, in and back out. Like a routine.
So you moaned amateurishly. Maybe that's what he liked, pornstar moans accompanied with rolled eyes. That proved to be far more embarrassing than anything you had ever done around Toji. He scoffed under his breath, raising a brow as the speed of his fingers slowed down.
And that was the end of that.
A condom was slipped on from a half empty box, and then he fucked you, sliding into gummy walls and clenching wetness. You didn't know where to put your hands, eyeing his rippling muscles as you slid up the bed. Instead, you chose to fist the sheets between your fingers instead. Shaky legs wrapped around his waist out of instinct, and Toji sped up.
"A-ahh, fuck. More, please . . ." you choked out, shoulders hunching as you tried to roll your hips to match his movements. A hand held your hip down, didn't bother to tweak your clit to make you feel better. Toji only grunted, barely breaking a sweat and you swore you heard a small hush leave his lips.
Mortified. That's what you were.
Your lips pressed into a tight line, a forlorn look crossing your face as Toji continued to fuck into you. A change of the angling of his hips, and you felt the flat waves of pleasure double in intensity. But then he changed again when you gasped out, leaving you to take the shallow thrusts that left you feeling nothing.
In, out, in, and back out.
It was all done in mere minutes you'd say. Toji had a taste of what you had to offer, which wasn't much. And so he snapped his hips forward, groaning softly as he came deep into the stretched bit of rubber serving as a barrier between you both.
Had you came? Surely somewhere you did. You couldn't remember, watching as he pulled out without a word and tugging the condom off. Into the bin it went, and you laid there, used.
". . . thanks," you croaked out. Toji didn't answer, only tossing the sheets over you as he pulled out a packet of cigarettes.
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Much like his cheap hookups before you, you left without a word the morning after. You cleaned yourself up after a quick trip to the toilets after Toji vaguely gestured to where it was. You found your clothes rather easily, having folded them neatly before you slept with the man.
With shaking hands, you left the house and shut the door behind you. Not once did you look back as you made your way down the hallway you came in from. He didn't even offer a ride back.
With your chest tight like you had forgotten how to breathe, you walked into the dawn and pulled your phone out, typing in your address on Google and walking your long way back home.
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You avoided him completely after that.
It wasn't loud. Nor was it dramatic. You didn't block his number or delete it off your phone. You simply went off the grid, not bothering to reach out like you had done in the past. Time went by in the convenience store more and more each day to fill your life with noise.
But how futile it all was.
Because poor ol' you were still getting off to the memories of what once was — even though it was nothing short of abysmal.
Your cunt would feel empty — too empty — when you soaked in the silence of your bedroom. An endless cycle, but at least you had the sense not to message him. You missed the weight of him and your fantasies, but you learned to make quick work of it all.
"Just to take the edge off," you sighed, fingers wet beside you as you stared into space. Disgust would hit soon after, but you learned to deal with the familiar feeling.
Days passed.
Until they turned into months.
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Toji didn't notice, not at first. Life went on as usual for him as he took on shady jobs just to get by. A quick fuck here and there just to keep him sane with a rotation of girls that meant nothing once he had came.
There was a noticeable pause in something he couldn't quite pinpoint. But when Toji scrolled through his messages, you sat there at the bottom of the pile.
Drunk girl with nice tits, offline. No texts for fuck knows how long. Strange, wasn't it?
Annoying, but whatever. That's what Toji told himself. Annoying was all it was.
Regardless, he found himself alone in bed for once, cigarette dangling between scarred lips. Your display name taunted him. And then his thumb swiped over the screen.
► toji : still alive?
He didn't put his phone down, expecting a response straight away like the distant memory of how you used to.
But a minute passed. Another. Until the sun had disappeared under the horizon and a new day had come.
Silence.
Toji frowned that next morning, checking over and over and ignoring all other messages. Maybe you were busy in that shit hole of a store you worked in. No, couldn't have been. It was your day off, he vaguely remembered. Maybe you were still asleep.
Or maybe you were ignoring him.
The thought tasted foul on his tongue, worse than any nicotine he could have stuck into his mouth.
Toji exhaled, feeling uncomfortable for the first time in his miserable life.
"Tch. Whatever."
The silence stretched on for days longer, and it irritated him more than it should have.
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The irritation didn't fade like Toji thought it would.
Even when he went to your workplace, not uttering a word and buying his usual — you kept quiet. Ultimately, you stopped showing up altogether, taking on shifts Toji was least likely to come in at.
He stopped trying.
"She'll come back. They always fuckin' do," he'd tell himself. All of his hookups did, why should you be any different?
Turned out you were different, actually. You didn't read his messages, awakening a restlessness no amount of sex could ever fix. The women were eager, for sure, but not in the way you had been.
They just weren't you.
► toji : you mad at me or smth?
He didn't send the message, deleting and retyping with a clenched jaw until all he could do was toss his phone to the side with more force than necessary.
In time, Toji had to learn to deal with the silence in the same way you had done. He felt the thoughts spiral, latch onto barely conceived memories of the sex you both had. Yet no matter how hard Toji hoped, you never reached out.
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All the women in Toji's life after it all felt too wrong. They tried too hard. They moaned too loud or demanded too much from him. He ended up loathing sex.
The only thing that remained constant after that was the obsessive way he'd check your profile day in and day out. Toji would have felt some sort of relief if you had blocked him. At least it would have been an indication that you were alive.
All he got was absence, final and certain. And for Toji, it was the first time he truly felt it. He felt a constant itch without any sort of relief like you did. There was a persistent hunger within him that he couldn't satiate.
Like a parasite without a host.
The two of you lay awake at night, one moaning into her hand as her fingers went to work, and the other surrounded himself with silence, staring at the crack in the ceiling that seemed to deepen as the days went by.
Hello, I'm alive (mostly) :)) sorry for the disappearing act I was not doing well. Still struggling but hopefully I feel better with this new blog hehe
reupload from bluukive. Ty for the idea again twin @coralbae
header :: I Became the Genuine Love Interest of Mr. Segawa Who Has a Huge Attitude and Body
► Nanami Kento
"You've got enough restraint to put it in me while it's soft, right?
"By 'it', I assume you are referring to my … cock?"
You nodded.
And it was precisely this question that led you to Nanami's current predicament. He was currently guiding his tip into your cunt, having been roped into such a fruitless exercise of his self-restraint. The blonde gave in quicker than you had anticipated — but then again, Nanami was incredibly easy when it came to you.
"Hurry, Ken," you tittered, spreading your legs wide without an ounce of shame. "I want to feel it get hard inside of me."
Nanami inhaled sharply through his nose, screwing his eyes shut and willing for his cock to stay limp. The sight of you spread out so sinfully before him, pussy glistening, was enough to have his cock jerking in his fist. "A moment, darling."
An impatient noise left you. You had taken it upon yourself to prep without your husband, knowing he'd get hard during the process. All he had to do was put it in, but even that seemed too demanding of a task for poor Nanami.
Propping yourself on your elbow, you nudged at his knee with your foot. "If you get hard, it'll only take longer to do what I want."
He muttered something unintelligible as you lied back down, making quick work of slipping inside of you.
Your lashes fluttered, and the way your pussy quivered at the intrusion was enough to have Nanami's knuckles whitening as he pushed in. The gradual warmth that engulfed his flaccid cock was unbearable, and his ability to hold back was soon dwindling its way into nothing.
"Just let it get h-hard, that's it. You don't need to fuck me yet."
"That's the problem," he rasped, "I want to make love to you."
You shook your head and tried to ignore the way you needed your husband to plough into you and make the bed shake. Your voice was shaky when you replied, pussy squeezing periodically — which certainly made the task that much more difficult for both of you. "Stay still."
Nanami braced his arms on either side of your head, sweat already beading against his hairline. His pulse had quickened considerably, thudding in time with yours as the blood slowly rushed down to his groin. "S-shit—"
"I can feel it, Ken," you laughed breathily, running your fingers up Nanami's forearms, until you were holding onto his tense biceps. "It's getting so big."
Cursed with a filthy wife with an even filthier tongue, it appeared.
Your husband was a gentleman, and he didn't want to do anything that'd compromise your safety. Yet with the sight of you laying under him, hair splayed out and cheeks flushed — all Nanami wanted to do was fold you in half and have his way with you.
Luckily for him, he was fully hard. You felt it all, watching with lidded eyes as the vein on his temple throbbed with each twitch of him inside of you. Then came the precum. a slight ticklish feeling as Nanami began leaking his arousal into you.
"Please tell me I can move now, my love. I-I don't think I can handle—"
"Move, Ken," you murmured coquettishly, palm on your stomach from where Nanami had stuffed you to the brim. Nanami was well-endowed soft, but now that he was hard? You were glad that you had prepared yourself beforehand.
And so Nanami did what you asked, driving his hips forward with a guttural groan in a way that'd had your legs shaky for days to come.
► Gojo Satoru
When Satoru said he wanted a hotdog, you didn't think he meant this — your shorts shucked down to your knees as you laid on your stomach, ass spread by two large hands and a soft cock nestled in between.
"Genuinely, what the fuck are you doing?"
Satoru shrugged, digging his long fingers into your rippling flesh after mounting you. "Said I wanted a hotdog. Now I have a hotdog."
You breathed in. You breathed out. Looking over your shoulder, you glared at your boyfriend — who was currently interrupting your self-care time. A nail file was idle between your fingers as you tried to comprehend where Satoru got the audacity from. "So you're just going to sit on me. Like that. Dick between my ass?"
"Yeah, nice 'n warm between here."
"So is an oven," you muttered dryly, prompting Satoru to slap your ass.
"An oven can't feel me get hard between its cheeks," he retorted playfully, wiggling his eyebrows. So that was what it was all about. He wanted you to feel him get hard against you? Odd but alas, in character. So you went back to filing your nails, seemingly not caring as to what Satoru did next.
He placed two large hands on the side of each rounded asscheek, pressed them inwards until the pressure around his cock intensified. Satoru couldn't hold back the plethora of breathy groans and curses that left him, too busy indulging in the way your ass seemed to mould to the shape of him.
"Really enjoying yourself there, huh?" You mumbled, unable to stop yourself from feeling a spark of arousal at the desperation of your boyfriend. He was pathetic — and a large part of you enjoyed that.
Satoru whimpered, nodding even though you couldn't see. Experimentally, he rolled his hips once, hissed at the dry friction, and felt his cock chub up at the same time.
You felt it too, the way the weight between your ass grew heavier with each frantic thrust. Had Satoru not been preoccupied with fucking the seam of your rear, he would've seen the way your pussy was slick with a steady gathering of your wetness.
But alas, Satoru was an ass man — and nothing was going to stop him from dry humping your butt and glazing them with a thick sheen of his cum.
"G-gosh, you're disgusting," you stammered out, almost panting in time with Satoru as he spat down to make the glide more wet. He ignored the way you jolted at the warm feeling, too busy lost in the wet plaps of his balls against the curve of your ass. "Like a rabid mutt."
"Y-yeaah, this mutt's gonna blow a load over your ass any second," Satoru chuckled, half crazed. You cursed, gripping onto the sheets and body rocking in time with his. It was obvious his orgasm was coming any second, and you had no time to warn him not to cum on you but—
SPURT
Satoru came — thick, messy ropes that shot out from between your ass, all over the small of your back and halfway up your silk camisole.
…
"Oops."
"You're licking that up, by the way. Asshole."
► Ryomen Sukuna
"Ryo. Ryomen. Sukun—ah!"
"Out with it, brat," he snarled, swatting you on the rear and planting you onto his lap. The King of Curses was sprawled out on his throne, his beloved bride making it her mission to make his life hell yet again. You grinned at him, giving his stomach mouth an affectionate nudge with your fingers.
"Was just wondering…"
"Nothing good ever comes out of that."
You slapped at one of his meaty biceps, tutting at his words. "Shut up. I was just wondering which one of your cocks get hard first."
…
"I do not know," Sukuna muttered, his brows furrowed in thought. Usually, he did not care about such trivial matters. At the end of the day, both would end up inside of you eventually, and noting which one stood at attention first was nothing short of necessary. Yet he found himself wondering…
"Are you suggesting we find out?
You nodded. "I'll hold them both and we can see."
Sukuna tutted at that, his two lower hands coming down to squeeze at your waist. "Do you really think that would be enough to turn me on?"
"Of course!" you cooed, poking your brute of a husband's nose. "Was it not only yesterday you grew hard at the sight of me in your robes?"
There was no arguing with that — your words were true, and as much as Sukuna liked to play the role of an aloof husband, there was a certain allure that you had that brought you two together in the first place, eventually leading to your marriage.
"Fine. You may try."
With a celebratory cheer, you reached down and parted Sukuna's robes. He didn't bother with undergarments, seeing as though it was appropriate to assert his dominance whenever he could (even if it meant scaring his servants with the two weighty cocks that swung between his legs like a pendulum).
Immediately, your left hand found his lower cock, and the right found the upper one. Even when he was soft, Sukuna was inhumanly large. It was the reason why prep with you could last hours. Seeing you writhe from consecutive orgasms was pleasing to the curse, but had he not been thorough with you — you would certainly not be able to take him.
Your fingers barely met as you held his flaccid cocks, marvelling at how daunting they were outside of you. Sukuna watched with his four lazy eyes, ignoring the way the tips of his ears burned at the feeling of his wife holding him like it was nothing. Then, the lower cock twitched first. Once, twice, three times.
"Oh, my," you whispered, watching as the upper cock began quivering too. Sukuna was quickly becoming aroused, eyes averted as he rested his chin on a fist. The scowl on his face was weak as you maintained your grip on him, so carefully attentive. You didn't want to miss it — which cock was able to stand at attention first at the simple feeling of your palm cradling his cocks.
"Not a word," he grunted. But his thighs situated themselves further apart, a lazy manspread that gave you more room to admire him. The plump veins snaking down his cocks were deepening in hue, much like his twin tips that were oozing out translucent precum.
Until the lower cock stood stiff first, the one above following not long after — true to biology. Sukuna snarled when you let out an astounded noise. "I suppose that makes sense. After all, the bottom cock is the easiest to get to… maybe…"
"Stop your rambling and fix this, woman. You started it, so you must deal with the aftermath."
"Gladly."
► Toji Fushiguro
Having an oral fixation was a bummer when there was no one around to satiate it. Fortunately for you, Toji had picked up on your little quirk as he liked to call it. The two of you quickly came to a little arrangement, where he was willing to let you use him whenever you saw fit in exchange for a pair of your underwear every week. You didn't even need to ask.
An expensive arrangement, but it was worth it.
Toji had a drawer full of frilly panties ready to be ruined, and you had a way to keep your mouth occupied.
Like right now.
Your head was on your housemates lap, his lazy attention to the shitty movie playing out before you. The realisation was slow at first, but you could feel the emptiness in your mouth becoming more prominent as the minutes went by. It was all so overwhelming, causing you to fidget and swallow around nothing and stirring Toji in the process.
"You good down there?" He grunted, passing a large hand over your head to ruffle your hair somewhat affectionately.
You nodded — but your answer couldn't be further from the truth. Then, you sat up, eyeing Toji's crotch. Even while he was soft, there was a prominent curve of where his dick sat. It made your mouth water, and his previous words came back to you.
Whenever you deemed fit, use him.
Usually, you'd ask before helping yourself to what you needed. But right now? Words were failing you and Toji wasn't offering. So you gently tugged out his limp cock after lifting the elastic waistband of his shorts and laid closer to the man.
The word 'pretty' wasn't often used when it came to Toji. But there was something about Toji's cock that made you fawn ever so slightly. It was slightly tan, deepening in colour as you came closer to his plump tip. The girth was obscene, decorated in fat veins that you loved to prod at with your tongue whenever you had the chance to.
You pressed forward, giving it a small yet audible smooch before opening your mouth. The man grunted above you, still not getting hard as you slowly enveloped more of him into your throat. He wasn't small, coaxing you into relaxing as much as you could before you inevitably let out a gag.
The gentle sounds of sucking filled the room, your lips pursed and tongue lolled out, flat against the underside of Toji's weighty cock.
All you could think about was Toji, Toji, Toji — his scent musky and clouding your brain with the beginnings of arousal. Saliva built up steadily in the heat of your mouth, coating the length in a thin sheen.
Until your sucking grew frantic. Your thighs pressed together in a poor attempt to alleviate your need to get absolutely railed by the older man.
A harsh jerk of Toji's cock in your mouth caught your attention, and the salty taste of precum bloomed over your taste buds. Only then did your spit begin to bubble out from the corner of your lips, your suckling having grown far too sloppy to not elicit a boner.
"Shit— easy now."
You shook your head, throat gurgling wetly as you swallowed around him — around the cock that bulged your throat and kissed against the back of it. With each descent of your head, seeing as though you had started giving Toji a blowjob, he grew more erect.
Not only that, he was bigger too, until your hollow cheeks lost their shape and rounded the more he filled the empty space inside you.
Toji listened in as you breathed heavily out of your nose, balls tense with the urge to cum at the forefront of his mind. You were a mess when he looked down, seeing your eyes watery and webbed strings of spit and cum gluing your chin to his crotch.
"Nasty girl, bet you're wet down there. Aren't you?"
Toji knew you couldn't answer — after all, it was bad manners to talk when your mouth was full. He opted to lean over on his side, sliding a large hand under the waistband of your shorts and copping a feel instead.
Lo and behold, your wetness met his fingers, and the grin that lifted the scarred corner of Toji's lips was nothing short of hungry.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋮ Sukuna's an angel. Or at least, that's what he used to be before he was cast out for his disobedience. He's dragging himself— torn and bloody through whatever godforsaken forest he had crashed in. Everything looks bleak for Sukuna until he spots your little cabin on the muddy riverbank. Perhaps you, the clumsy witch residing within its wooden walls, can grant him salvation.
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⋮ wc : 7.7k, a little self-indulgent whoops, angst (idk Sukuna gets kicked out of heaven), idk how coherent this plot is either pretend it happens in a span of months, religious themes, slight fluff, eventual smut, true form sukuna x fem!reader, descriptions of injuries, blood, two cocks (only one is used), oral (fem recieving), fingering, piv sex
art creds :: please let me know the artist of the third image, have tried looking everywhere </3
Angels were made not to feel arrogance, fury, pain — all those emotions that made us human.
Sukuna knew that was a lie the second he was cast out, the heavens above tearing his white wings straight from his back and leaving two gaping wounds in the process. The sky split as he fell, shaking the core of Earth itself with a blinding light surging through the gap left behind. It was the sort of light that burned through the fallen angel, all the way down to his very bones and set him alight from the inside.
Divinity unravelled into sin.
Sukuna's back throbbed in agony, a pained howl ripping through his throat as he continued to fall.
And fall.
And fall.
Wind lashed against his defiled body. The experts called this spectacle another shooting star, a meteor streaking its way through the night sky. Onlookers gasped in awe as he disappeared into the black horizon. They couldn't be further from the truth.
Sukuna kept falling — all the way until the taste of betrayal in his mouth turned into mud and dirt. He had crash landed into a forest in the death of night, a shell of what he once was. A crater had bloomed where he had landed, the forest ricocheting like shrapnel over him — yet Sukuna refused to succumb to the pain.
An unbridled rage gripped him as he lay there, twitching as the blood ran down his back.
How dare they?
He was made out of light, fire, and yet the heavens stripped him of his glory — all because he refused to submit to a lesser being made of clay. Sukuna's arrogance had resulted in him getting cast out, and to that he spat on the ground. What he had left was defiance as he pushed himself up, muscles rippling as his chest rose and fell shakily. His breath was ragged as his four red eyes scanned the dark surroundings.
Beneath him, the soil soaked in the red of his blood, the precious liquid having dripped out of his wounds where his wings should've been and down the curve of his spine. Dying alone here wasn't an option for Sukuna, however. He wasn't about to give the heavens a reason to rejoice. He wasn't about to prove their judgement of him as final.
That was why he grunted low, forcing himself to move despite the way his back screamed in protest. The effort was truly ugly — all the grace he had in his former body having evaporated out of him the second he was ousted.
Two of Sukuna's four palms skidded momentarily against the mud before he mustered up the energy to stand tall. He swayed once, then twice.
Sukuna did not fall.
Spite won over anything else, allowing the forest to part before him as he moved through it. The branches thwacked against Sukuna, until they gradually thinned and the stubborn roots began to lose their grip on the earth below. Moonlight washed over his body, baptising his nudity that he was so painfully aware of. He wasn't ashamed, not at all. Sukuna was irritated at this indignity bestowed upon him.
He pushed on, feeling the ground slope beneath his bare feet until the air grew clearer around him. It felt cooler, damp, and the odd sound of running water met Sukuna's ear. It was clear that the source came from a river now that he was face to face with it.
Water.
A pang of thirst hit him — something that he had never felt before his exile. Sukuna's body moved towards the source of life without thinking, until he had sank onto his knees and gulped until the liquid threatened to bubble back up. Only then did he rise once more, wiping his mouth dry with the back of his hand.
When he scanned the area once more, nothing in particular stood out. But then Sukuna's eyes widened, trying to make out the shape in the darkness that resembled something akin to shelter squatting by the riverbed. A faint glow bled through what must've been the windowpanes. Above sat a chimney from which light smoke curled out in thin tendrils that dissolved into nothingness.
It wasn't anything grand by any means, but it was enough. It felt alive, something Sukuna wasn't accustomed to yet. He stared after it for longer than he meant to, his scarred skin tense and prickling with something he couldn't name.
Each step grew heavier than the last as Sukuna set his target on the hut. He was still bleeding, still clinging onto survival — shaking violently as defiance mixed with exhaustion. Yet he dragged himself on, all the way until his knees finally gave out from exhaustion.
The night went on, swallowing the pitiful fallen angel's body. His nails dug into the dirt, and just for one hopeful second, Sukuna thinks he could pull himself back up like he has done before.
But he couldn't.
His eyes shut, and consciousness flickered away. The very last thing Sukuna was aware of was a feminine hum followed by a sharp gasp, a figure looming in front of him as he passed out.
For the first time since Sukuna fell, he didn't rise — not for a while.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"Why I outta— ah. You're awake, it seems."
Was he?
Sukuna's head swam, nausea hitting him as consciousness came floating back in small fragments. He found himself unable to breathe, body shooting upwards as a terrible cough wracked his lungs. The scent invading his body was herbal, bitter and left him gasping for air as you watched — clearly unimpressed.
"You can stop that, y'know," you muttered, cracking open a window and letting daylight in. "My precious herbs aren't that bad."
When the worst of the dry heaving had subsided, Sukuna grimaced, looking down to see his upper body bandaged and lower half covered with a blanket of some sorts. He then raised his head, taking in the wooden beams of what was presumably your hut. Oddities were strewn around everywhere in the small space, cluttering your living area with metal trinkets and hanging ropes of garlic amongst other things.
And then he registers something soft underneath his hulking body — a narrow bed that was almost folding in half because of his weight. Honestly, it was a miracle to you that it was still intact.
Above all else, one realisation had hit Sukuna — you had touched him.
His gaze snapped at you as you stood a few steps away by a cluttered table packed to the brim with various bottles.
"Woah, what's with the look?"
Sukuna's jaw tightened, and then he tried speaking. He cleared his throat, testing out the words on his tongue.
"I assume that you were the one to have . . . moved me."
You swallowed, choosing not to lie. There was no need to — you two were the only ones there for miles around. "That I did."
"That is rather bold of you to touch something that was once of pure divinity," Sukuna pointed out, shifting so that he was seated upright. The searing pain in his back had gone, replaced by a deep but manageable ache that seemed to resonate inside of him.
"Whatever you were, that doesn't matter now," you pointed out, unaware of his circumstances. "You landed on my property, all bloody and battered and you probably should take it easy for a while."
Sukuna's eyes narrowed at you as he attempted to stand. Immediately, a hiss left his throat.
"Don't move like that, you'll tear something." Your voice was firm as you stepped closer without thinking. Above his shoulder, your hand hovered in uncertainty — had you upset the man?
Sukuna sat back down begrudgingly, slightly stung at the dismissal of his status. The bed creaked once more in protest, and you swore you heard wood splintering somewhere. The sound made you grimace, yet your voice took on a more gentle tone. Something was clearly wrong with whoever this man is, and something in you said that he was capable of far more than he let on.
"Well . . . you can stay here as long as you like. Just be careful, please. I made this furniture myself and it took quite a while."
That got a different sort of reaction out of Sukuna. His mouth twitched — barely.
"You house a fallen angel," he mused, looking up at you, "and your flimsy chairs are your main concern?"
Your eyes widened, the pieces of the puzzle slowly connecting together in your mind. Fallen angel? Well, that would have explained the two large gashes on his back. "Is that what you really are, Mr . . . ?"
"Sukuna, and yes. That I am."
You mumbled out your own name, suddenly falling quiet as you took in this new revelation. Sukuna cocked his head, studying you curiously. "Your silence intrigues me. Tell me — should you not be scared, little one?"
"Of what?"
"Of what I am."
You thought for a second. It wasn't like you were completely unafraid of what Sukuna was — finding him in such a vulnerable state was more than a sure sign that danger lurked not too far away. But if you thought deeper . . .
"I'm well acquainted with things that are out of the ordinary," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "A fallen angel is bound to be another addition to that."
"And what makes you so special?"
"I didn't say I was special," you blurted, trying to preserve your image. "I'm just a witch— or, well, a practising one."
Sukuna hummed low, the sound rumbling in his chest.
"That explains the wards you have hung around this hut."
He wasn't wrong — for the sake of your safety, you had cast a ward many moons ago to keep out any negative energy away from you. Sukuna wasn't at all surprised that he had bypassed that. You had let him in willingly, after all. Whether that was a good choice on your end, well, time would have to tell.
"I didn't know you could see them."
"I can see many things the human eye cannot," he replied simply.
And then your mouth ran faster than your mind could, a sceptical look shooting Sukuna's way. "Doesn't seem that way to me, considering the fact that you crashed face first into the ground."
Silence.
You grimaced — it appeared that your horribly timed attempt at a joke didn't land well. No pun intended.
But unexpectedly, a rush of air left Sukuna's nose. It was short and sharp, more out of disbelief than anything else. It even startled him, making him adjust the mildly amused look on his face into one of irritation.
"Your mouth runs carelessly, little one," he said.
"Seems as though I'm not the only careless one around here." You were really testing the waters now.
Sukuna stared at you, so you stared back.
Really stared.
You thought he would retaliate, but he didn't. An awkward cough from you filled the silence. Then, some shuffling as you moved in place.
"Anyway," you said, "I've tended to your back as you can see.
"I can indeed," Sukuna said flatly. "I'm not quite fond of the . . . smell."
Figures.
A sigh left you as he watched you wander off, the sound of clinking meeting his pierced ears. When you came back, bottles of various liquids occupied the space in your hands — ranging from the deepest yellows to creamy whites. "These are just some home remedies I used after washing your back. I'll need to apply these again when I change your bandages."
"And when will you be doing that?"
"Now. Because as you can see, you're bleeding through the old—"
"Absolutely not."
A pause.
"Absolutely yes," you argued. "You may be of higher power but that doesn't mean you're invincible to infection, especially now that you're on my turf."
Sukuna simmered in his seat, refusing to look your way.
"I suppose you'd like to reopen all your wounds then?"
. . .
That got him to turn, just enough for you to carefully roll the bloodied bandages off his torso. You could ignore the four arms for now as you set the bottles of ointment to the side, face to face with the large gashes running down Sukuna's shoulder blades. The skin had split, making you wince as you tried not to focus too much on the injuries in front of you.
As you worked, your mind raced yet again — what atrocities had he committed to be deserving of such treatment?"
A grunt dragged you out of your thoughts. The ointment was slippery between your fingers and Sukuna's wounds stung terribly so as you applied it onto his skin. "If you could handle that fall, you can handle this, Sukuna."
"That does not mean I want to," he bit back as curtly as he could. It was all too much for the fallen angel, having wound up in some witches hut and being tended to like a stray dog. But what could he do except take it? That was why Sukuna stayed in his seat, body tense as he chose to restrain himself.
"There we go, nice and calm," you squinted, drying your hands clean and fetching a fresh roll of gauze to wrap around Sukuna.
"I am choosing patience," Sukuna gritted out, lifting up his arms one by one as you manoeuvred around him. You nodded, making sure he was securely patched up whilst the river outside continued to splash against the bank. The world around you both continued to move, and the heavens above remained a silent witness to what was going on with their fallen angel.
Sukuna — the being who had sworn not to kneel to anyone, remained in his seat on top of the creaking bed beneath your wandering hands.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Sukuna was making better progress than you had initially expected. Time trudged on, creeping in through the small things — like the light beams across your wooden floorboards shifting across your rooms. The river outside, too. It ebbed and flowed with each pass of the moon.
His bandages needed changing less often, slowly but surely. With the passing of time and somewhere between medicinal care to boiling weeds, living with Sukuna felt like less of a pressing matter and more of a routine.
A much welcome one, too.
It was far from a miracle the way Sukuna healed, but he was able to ignore the faint burn of the muscles of his back as he followed you around your hut. The skin had closed unevenly, causing it to scar and raise. That was a better outcome than infection, at least.
Soon enough, Sukuna picked up on your habits. Being cooped up with you made that easy, but not once did Sukuna intend for that to happen. He noticed that you woke up at precisely 5 a.m without fail, shuffling in and out of the bedroom you had so kindly given him as you went about your day.
You also had the tendency to speak to inanimate objects, banging pots and pans out of frustration when your spell casting didn't go right. Sometimes, you'd even practise in front of him — the former angel sitting there unimpressed as you tried potion-making.
His mouth would twitch without fail, every damn time when a plume of smoke would erupt in your face.
There were things about Sukuna you noticed as well. First of all, he hated wearing shirts. It took a lot of bribery on your end for him to let you fashion up a pair of loose pants for him to wear so that you didn't accidentally see them again. By them, you meant his twin pair of cocks. The imagery made you shudder, and it was one you would like to forget.
To compromise, he wore the baggy pants in exchange for being allowed to walk around topless. It was more 'freeing' for his four arms, which you supposed made sense. He sported quite a few tattoos he would rather not have explained, but at least they were nice to look at.
You also noticed how he liked to push your limits — doing nothing when you tripped over thin air or snagged your clothes against a stray hook in your usual fashion. He'd sit there, face passive and wondering how it was possible for you to be this unintentionally clumsy.
Oh, and he'd also push his body beyond the limits of what was acceptable, sending you into a panic whenever he feigned a grimace on his face.
"Don't push it, Ryomen," you warned, brows knitted as Sukuna tried walking the length of your hut without having to use your walls for support. He managed, but that didn't mean you couldn't see the sway in his step.
He scoffed, turning his head to look at you. "I am merely standing, little witch."
"You look like you're about to bolt out of my front door," you shot back, waving your favourite wooden stick at the man. "Sit."
Sukuna sat down without even realising, and when the realisation did hit — it was already too late.
You scurried off to make food, feeling a pang of hunger hit you, and Sukuna was also the perfect test subject for new recipes. He stayed rooted to the spot, bristling as a pang of annoyance hit him. He stayed quiet, staring into the wall and pretending not to notice how obedient he was around you.
Sometimes, silence was something you learned Sukuna needed. He'd have his off days, where his shoulders would hunch and the searing pain in his back would bring back spiteful memories of what had got him cast out of heaven. You would listen to Sukuna shift around until you found him in the morning sleeping upright.
His gaze would drift off, latch onto nothing as something ugly and scornful swirled beneath the red.
You never pried, no matter how much you wanted to.
Sukuna knew you wanted to as well, but you knew your limits. Those dark periods would pass, much like the rain over your hut, and everything was okay again — momentarily, but it was enough.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"I just fixed that, Ryo," you complained, the nickname slipping out from between your lips like second nature. Perhaps it had been a couple of weeks since you had first begun to nurse Sukuna back to health. There had been no talks of sending him off elsewhere now that his condition had improved rapidly. Quite frankly, you didn't want him to go anywhere either. You told yourself he was quite good with the handiwork.
Except for now, that is.
A rake stood between you both, the wooden handle having splintered after Sukuna had taken it from your grasp. He had intended to rake up the leaves, but his grip was far too powerful. He patted the splinters off of his hand, staring down at the useless tool.
". . . I can fix it.
You let out a snort, shaking your head incredulously. "Not even my magic can turn that heap of firewood back into what it once was."
"Allow me to."
Sukuna's words made you cock a brow. "Do you really want to? I don't see any point—"
"This was my doing, so I will fix it," he said simply, as if he was telling you about his day. There wasn't any sort of challenge in his tone, which you could appreciate. It was simply just a matter of fact statement from Sukuna, to which you hesitated for only a second and nodded.
"Go ahead, then. But I'm putting you on time out if you break anything again."
Fair enough.
Sukuna was only gone momentarily as he returned with a branch. Without skipping a beat, he carefully fashioned a makeshift handle with his black nails and handed it to you before you could even process what he had done. You blinked then shifted out of neutral, wrenching the old splintered handle out of the rake and replacing it.
Lo and behold, it was completely functional.
"Well, would you look at that," you chuckled in disbelief, inspecting the rake from all angles. Sukuna reached out, intending to take the rake from you so that he could try out raking again — but then he stopped.
"Show me."
You gawked up at Sukuna, evidently startled.
"What do you mean 'show me'?"
"How you wish for me to rake your garden," he lifted up all four of his eyes off of the ground to meet yours, clarifying what he meant. "I do not wish to make the same mistake as before."
A smile broke out on your face then before you pursed your lips, not wanting to annoy the man. You demonstrated, opening your fist then closing it gently around the rake handle. Sukuna watched attentively before you handed the tool back to him. Your fingers brushed against his — and he went very, very still.
"Ah, ah. Gently. You don't need to flex your hand so hard."
Your fingers carefully adjusted his, until you could no longer see the wood threatening to bend under his grip again. Somewhere under your conscious, you noticed how Sukuna's breathing had deepened, but you were more focused on the way he mimicked your prior movements with utmost care.
The rake held in his grip.
"There you go! I told you not everything needs brute force."
Sukuna regarded the rake with thinly-veiled interest and turned his nose up. "Control, little witch," he murmured softly, "is incredibly difficult."
"Yes, but you're learning. Within time, you'll be able to handle anything with utmost care."
An odd look passed over Sukuna's face at that. He seemed almost pleased at your praise. That was why he went back to raking in silence as you supervised. His biceps flexed and relaxed with each almost reverent pull of his arms over the leaves. Something akin to affection settled in your chest, to which you swept away much like Sukuna was doing with the leaves.
When he had finished, he carefully propped the rake against the wall of your hut and turned in your direction.
"Is this acceptable?"
You nodded, quite pleased with how it had all turned out. "Of course. You did a great job, Ryo."
At the nickname, something in Sukuna stirred. He felt as if he had a purpose once more, and the feeling was addicting. A thoughtful yet dark look passed over his eyes before he turned his head away and nodded. "Then I will remember for next time," he said quietly.
He really did — having been caught by you several times testing out his grip on various items in your home. And each time without fail, your pulse picked up at the sight.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Church bells.
The sound was wrong in Sukuna's head.
It started off quiet at first — just a simple, distant toll that echoed all the way until the sound weaved its way through the forest. It hit your hut, making your head perk up one lazy morning whilst Sukuna picked berries off a nearby shrub. You frowned, trying to put a finger on what could possibly be going on.
"You hear that, right?"
Of course he did. How could he not?
The second ring of the bell resonated back into Sukuna, the sound too sharp as it pressed against his skull and branded him in a way that made his vision spark out at the edges. Before he knew it, Sukuna was shaking — his body having reacted before his mind could.
The air around him grew hot, until sweat beaded at his temple and rolled off in slick streams.
The third toll of the bell would prove to be Sukuna's unravelling, the ground under his feet cracking with a dry, splintering sound. His muscles spasmed painfully — causing a low snarl to claw its way out of his throat before he could swallow it back.
"Sukuna—?"
You were visibly startled at what was going on, looking at the increasingly hateful look on the former angel's face. The bell tolled once more, striking through flesh and bone and reigniting old pain on the scars on his back.
As if heaven itself was reminding him of his cursed status once more.
Your face paled, reminded of the wards that were around your hut. The air seemed to hold its breath, reacting to the unholy presence Sukuna was bleeding out onto your land.
"Sukuna," you called out firmer this time. Despite your common sense screaming at you not to approach him, you did. "What is that? What— are you okay?"
Before you could blink, he turned to face you. For the duration of a heartbeat, you could see something feral in Sukuna's eyes — something that was ancient and powerful and most likely forged from the depths of hell itself.
"Do not dare come close to me."
You flinched — wondering what on earth had come over you.
And then the bells rang again, the realisation hitting you like a bucket of cold water. In between your wards and what was most likely wedding bells, Sukuna fought the innate urge to kneel — pummelled by the weight of reminder of exile once more.
Sukuna didn't look at you when he spoke once more, his words landing heavily between you. He didn't speak out of anger this time — but out of finality.
"I should not have stayed this long around you. The heavens have noticed, and you are not safe with me."
You opened your mouth to speak, blood rushing to your head as you tried making sense of Sukuna's sudden collapse. Then, he cut you off.
"I should not have stayed this long," he repeated, getting off of his knees with his shoulders squared. You stared after him, in utter disbelief as he walked towards the forest and let it swallow him whole. And whilst the bell kept ringing in the distance, a sickening feeling bubbled up in your gut — making you follow shortly after.
Perhaps your inability to think rationally was the sole reason why you were able to follow Sukuna. He had made incredible progress, light almost invisible the deeper you went. But the claw marks on the bark of the trees served as your guide as the bell chimed once more. The sound may have been muffled now, but it was no less potent — dragging out noises so visceral from Sukuna's chest.
"Sukuna?" You called out, frustrated grunts leaving you as you nearly tripped over a tangle of branches.
Not once did Sukuna stop.
He was in your line of sight now, which had to count as something. It was a marvel that he was still moving, all the way up until he reached a crater in the ground.
Sukuna then staggered in his step. You almost slipped in mud, yet pushed on.
The man dropped onto one knee, exhaling sharply and wincing like it hurt for him to do so. Sukuna's nails tore through the dirt, like it'd anchor him — but to no avail.
This happened all whilst the bells echoed over and over, but this time? Sukuna openly let his body shake as you came closer yet again.
"Do not—," he croaked, cursing your stubbornness. "I am warning you again. Do not come any closer if you value your life."
You did slow, yes. But did you stop?
No.
"You can't even stand, Ryo," you stammered, trying your hardest to keep your voice steady. As always, Sukuna shook his head, attempting to hide his evident weakness.
"And since when has that ever been your concern?"
"Since you landed in front of my hut all those moons ago," you vented, throwing your hands up in the air. How ridiculous.
Another toll interrupted you, causing Sukuna to grind his teeth down until something in his jaw cracked. All four arms braced against the forest floor, back bowing almost violently. It hurt to watch.
"You do not understand. You will never understand," Sukuna snarled, teeth digging into his tongue. His anguish was evident, rendering you speechless in its intensity. "This-this darned sound. It kills me."
"So let it. I'll figure out the rest."
Your words, incredibly foolish, got his attention. He looked up, red eyes bloodshot as disbelief crossed the pained lines on his face.
"Stupid witch. You are nothing short of reckless."
"I know, but I'd rather you let me try something instead of trying to deal with it all alone."
Ring.
Whatever little control Sukuna had left had vanished into nothingness — causing his entire body to give out. You were positive he could hear your heart beating erratically in your chest as you cursed and tried dragging him to a nearby tree. It didn't work — Sukuna's body was nothing short of dead weight.
"Fuck—," you gritted out, choosing the second best option. You propped him up against you, letting him slump against your front — his forehead on your shoulder. A low sound left Sukuna then — broken and agonised.
"Sukuna," you whispered, not exactly expecting a response.
He didn't.
Without hesitation, you gently pressed your warm palms over Sukuna's ears after ridding them of any mud. He stiffened in your hold as you both sat there in the forest, taking in the way the sound of the bell dulled considerably — enough to give him some relief. What once was laboured breathing that rattled him to the core, turned into something uneven yet steady at long last.
"We can just stay here until the bell stops," you murmured, eyes honed in on Sukuna. For a long, heavy minute, he didn't move.
But then more of his weight shifted onto you. You grunted, deciding to just let him be. You didn't know how much time had passed, but when you finally were able to remove your hands?
Sukuna didn't move.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Days passed.
Sukuna was okay again, but there was one thing nagging in his mind. He brought it up one evening as you tapped away at one of the loose floorboards with a hammer.
"You have removed the wards," he mentioned casually.
. . .
"Yeah, of course," you said without looking up. The hammer continued to strike the nail, digging it further in place as Sukuna watched intently.
"And you did so knowing of what I'm capable of. What other dangers linger outside of your door."
Sukuna was right — by removing those very wards that had kept you safe for so long, you were inviting all sorts of dangers in. But none of that seemed to matter. Not anymore.
"Well, they hurt you," you shrugged, setting the hammer down once you were done. "I didn't want to keep something like that around."
Sukuna's eyes dropped to your hands, the same ones that took care of him without hesitation, without expecting anything back in return.
"You touched me back then," he continued. "I explicitly told you not to come near me, yet you did anyway."
You gnawed on your lower lip, shaking your head. Did he seriously expect you to just leave him there?
"You were in pain. What else did you want me to do?"
"That is no excuse, little witch," Sukuna pressed on — but there wasn't any ounce of hostility in his voice. "I do not recall you asking for permission to touch me like that."
That got you to stand up and truly look at Sukuna in the eyes. "And if I did ask for permission that day, would you have said no to me?"
He didn't answer, not right away. The river outside seemed to grow louder, overtaking the silence as you waited for a response. And a response he gave, even if it was far from what you had expected him to say.
"No. Not at all."
The words settled over you both, solidifying whatever odd bond was between you.
"Then don't expect an apology from me," you grinned slightly. Sukuna only stared back, a fond look crossing his face. "You won't get one."
"I cannot help but question why you are not afraid."
"I was, actually," you corrected gently. "But that wasn't enough for me to leave you in that state."
"And so you stayed." Sukuna's voice dropped into a quiet murmur. "You covered my ears in that forest when you could have simply left me, and you stayed."
"Of course I did, and I'd do it again. You needed someone back there, Ryo."
Silence.
"And what about now, little witch?"
A dangerously loaded question indeed, but you were not one to shy away from anything that much was clear.
"I'm still here, aren't I?"
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
"I find myself liking your touch more than I should. Why is that?" Sukuna teased one evening. You were sitting with him, legs against his as you stitched up a tear in his pants. You didn't want to answer that — solely because you didn't trust your mouth to say anything rational.
Sukuna let out a whistle of air through his noise out of amusement. "Your silence says more than any words you give me the pleasure of hearing."
"Can you just go back to disliking idle chatter? You talk too much," you huffed, tugging the needle through the fabric and ignoring the heat flooding onto your face.
"Ah, but look who remains seated by my side," Sukuna remarked coyly. He shifted ever so slightly, causing your thigh to rest against his bulky one.
It's just an accident, that's all, you told yourself — but neither of you corrected your direct physical contact. You pulled the thread a tad too strongly, movements faltering because of him. You cursed, adjusting your grip on the needle.
"Careful," Sukuna warned. "You will end up hurting yourself."
"Well, then stop distracting me," you scoffed, shooting a half-hearted glare his way.
"Oh? Am I distracting you?" Sukuna tilted his head to look down at you, all four of his eyes studying you with an intensity that made your stomach twist almost pleasurably. "I am simply sitting still. You are the one shaking, little witch."
"Excuse me? I am not shaking—"
"You most definitely are shaking."
You exhaled shakily, finishing off the last stitch before packing your needle and thread way in the cookie tin you kept them in. "You should stop staring at me like that, then."
"Like how?"
"Like you're a pervert who's about to touch me."
That elicited a throaty chuckle from the former angel next to you, which was the happiest he's ever sounded. "I would not have called it perverse. I thought I was becoming rather acquainted with what you humans call 'intimacy'."
Sukuna's words had your pulse quickening almost drastically. It was difficult to navigate this entire situation with a being as unstable as him, but the thrill was like no other. You dared to glance his way, eyes meeting red.
"Since when did you care about intimacy?"
"Since I met you."
Sukuna leaned back, one arm thrown over the back of your patchwork couch behind you. You willed your mouth to move, finding that it had suddenly run dry. "You sound almost sincere, y'know. I could almost believe that you're not joking."
"When have I ever been one to crack jokes like this around you?"
In your silence, Sukuna pressed on.
"I crave your touch more than I have ever craved the validation of the so-called God that cast me aside like nothing. You quietened the burn in me, little witch, and I find myself reluctant to be anywhere but here."
When you refused to look at him, Sukuna had to take matters into his own hands. He had spent many nights contemplating your dynamic, knowing that you were just what he needed to tether himself to earth. Yes, it was selfish, but Sukuna was also a risk taker — and he'd do anything to prove himself worthy of your affection.
With that, Sukuna removed himself off of his couch and kneeled between your legs. You spluttered, accidentally kicking out of shock. This prompted him to gently grab your foot with a practised softness, two of his four hands kneading at your calf. "You can't possibly be serious—"
"I am. And I intend on showing you my devotion."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Sukuna stayed true to his word.
Curiosity won over, melting with the innate urge to love you the way he deemed fit. Of course there was a more romantic way to go about it, but having his mouth on your cunt was heavenly — pardon my language.
He stayed on his knees as if he was in worship, hands having settled on your waist after dragging you off the very edge of your couch. The springs groaned, inaudible as Sukuna's mouth latched onto your pussy after spreading your lips open with two thick thumbs. His tongue was nothing short of thorough, exploring each and every fold despite inexperience rendering his movements sloppy.
But that was how you liked it — it was raw, sincere. You cried out, one hand bullying its way into Sukuna's hair and tugging as his lips found your clit. "So eager for me already. I must be doing something right."
And he was — languidly sucking your clit into his mouth and grazing it with his sharp teeth. "Oh, God," you keened out, back arching off the couch. Your whines melted into a sharp squeal when Sukuna slapped the side of your thigh.
"Language."
"My bad— ahhh," you choked out, feeling one thick finger slide deep into your cunt. It appeared that Sukuna's nails had retracted, leaving you to writhe and clench around his digits as they explored your gummy walls.
Sukuna hadn't felt a heat like this before, and quite frankly — he was addicted. He was inexperienced when it came to the subject of sex, but gazing down on humanity for as long as he used to had given him enough of an idea of what to do.
Sukuna stood up, hands now gripping your ass as he folded you in half and plunged his tongue in. He loomed over, drinking each and every drop of moisture your pussy had to give him. Your legs twitched, hooking over his shoulders and around his neck to lock him in place. The fallen angel couldn't breathe — but he had never felt so alive in his cursed existence.
"Th-that's so filthy Ryo . . ."
Your voice cracked at the nickname, eyes lidded at the way he parted from you with a wet pwah. Sukuna had pulled back enough, revealing his wet, tattooed chin and glossy strands of your slick connecting his face to your mound.
"Filthy," he mocked, licking a fat stripe up the expanse of your aching pussy. "I am worshipping you, my dear witch — and not even the heavens above can drag me away from you."
He was serious, too, drawing out shrill cries that sounded more divine than any choir he had ever heard. Sukuna was dead set on drawing one orgasm out of you with his tongue first before even beginning to think about his own stirring of his loins.
And that he did — curling his tongue deep within as your first orgasm washed over you. It was so incredibly hot, the way the sensation seemed to clutch at your womb before spreading throughout the rest of your body. Sukuna's mouth didn't stop, not until you were sobbing out weakly from overstimulation. It was only then he set you back down on the couch, casting his eyes down on the prominent tent both cocks had formed.
You noticed too — mustering up enough energy to sit up and tug at the drawstrings.
"Come here," you rasped. "Please."
Sukuna swallowed, nodding as the feeling of instability cascaded over him for the first time in weeks. But when he lowered himself down once more, forehead against yours as he freed both cocks — he felt anchored to you once more. His lips found yours, slow but steady in its movement, and you kissed back.
The sound of your lips on his, smacking and tugging eagerly filled the room, accompanied by a surprised yet pleased moan at the way you could taste yourself on his tongue. "You're shaking, Ryo."
"I know, I know," Sukuna whispered, drawing your lower lip into his mouth. "You have that effect on me, my dear."
His kisses resumed, all whilst a hand tangled in your hair before settling around your throat like a rosary. Sukuna didn't squeeze — he simply let his hand stay there, feeling the way your pulse felt so alive under his hand. He revelled in the way that he was the one making you feel like this.
When he finally pulled off of you with a final kiss to your temple, Sukuna's weeping tip smooched the entrance of where he so desperately wanted to be inside of. It caught against the rim of your hole, popping in ever so slightly before he backed off. It was too much for the man, his hips beginning to move on their own.
"You want this, right? Please tell me you do," he begged through gritted teeth. You clenched around Sukuna, trying your hardest to suck him back into your warmth.
"If you do not fuck me right now, I swear—"
Again, that was all the confirmation Sukuna needed. He only needed to use one cock, the upper one having been jerked off by one of his free hands.
A brief panic flooded you when he pushed in, pussy convulsing as you tried adjusting to his inhuman size. But you could handle it — Sukuna knew you could as his fourth hand travelled down to grope at a breast. He rolled a taut nipple under his palm while you clawed at his bare forearms, relishing in the mild pain before his fingers found your clit. The relief that flooded him was almost unbearable as your mild discomfort ebbed away into growing pleasure.
That was when Sukuna finally let go.
His name left your mouth half garbled as he bottomed out into you, your pussy stretching in ways it never had before.
"F-fuck, Ryo—"
Sukuna had to still, the two of you panting in near unison as you processed the feeling of his blunt head almost kissing against your cervix. Each plump vein adorning his cock had you fluttering around Sukuna, making him drop down and press his forehead to yours once more. His breathing came out ragged, four eyes having squeezed shut as he processed the feeling of being inside someone for the first time.
"You are so-so warm," he uttered. "You feel so alive."
You didn't have a chance to respond, hips bucking as Sukuna withdrew his hips. The dragging pull out of you felt like an eternity before he fucked back inside — making you feel each aching inch that he reserved for you alone. Sukuna watched the way your pussy clung onto him, etching the way it sucked him back into his memory.
Then, he saw the way your eyes threatened to shut on him, a blissed-out look crossing your face as his thrusts grew in tempo. Sukuna rolled your clit between his fingers, making you gasp sharply and come back to reality.
"Eyes on me," he drawled, hips not stopping for even a second. "I want to be the one you look at when— fuck, I make you fall apart on my cock."
You don't know where he had learned to talk like that, but it wasn't like you minded. After all, Sukuna had noticed you get increasingly more wet, making the glide all that more delicious as he rutted into you. The slick sounds of skin meeting skin filled the hut, obscene in all its glory. It felt primal, and Sukuna had truly never felt better.
At one point, Sukuna had lost himself so deep within the throes of pleasure, and his mouth had started to run. "Tell me, I need to hear it," he asked greedily, desperately. "Would you damn yourself for this? For me?"
A laugh left you, shaky and delirious as you nodded. "Yesyesyes, mmh. D-don't stop please," you gasped out, clutching onto Sukuna like he was your lifeline. "Heaven is right here with me, Ryo—"
That was all it took for Sukuna's entire pace to change. He fucked you like a man possessed, driven by the carnal need to mould your pussy to the shape of his thrusts. His upper cock leaked profusely, smearing the bulge in your belly with pearly white.
Heaven, heaven, absolute. Fucking. Heaven.
You had spoken the truth — it was right there with you both. Sukuna buried his flushed face in the crook of your neck, biting down with as much restraint as he could manage and littering your neck with a scattering of marks. "My salvation."
One hand splayed over your stomach, pressing down as you cried out for the nth time. Orgasms had bled into each other, until your nails had raked down the healed scars on Sukuna's back. It was that sensation alone that elicited a full body shudder from the former angel.
A warmth filled you up from the inside, your vision blacking out as you came alongside Sukuna. He stayed buried deep, having slotted his lips against yours but not moving. You were cocooned within his safe arms, your head cradled in one of his hands. You both twitched against each other, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm and taking in the way Sukuna's cock continued to leak steady roped of cum.
Neither of you moved right away either. Sukuna stayed where he was, half kneeling and half slumped over you.
Then he slid out of you, gently hushing you when you grimaced at the floods of cum that seeped out of your hole and leaked into the couch. Well, it was due time for it to be replaced anyway.
Despite having pulled out, Sukuna didn't stray too far away from you — taking a long moment to catch his breath with you seated firmly on his lap. Aftercare was a concept foreign to him, but he'd figure something out — somehow.
"You're very . . . quiet right now," you mumbled hoarsely, prodding fun at the man.
He did that thing again instead of laughing outright — exhaling through his nostrils in fond amusement. "I am listening to your heartbeat, my dear witch. Do not interrupt me now."
You grabbed one of his hands, placing it atop of your bare chest and letting him feel your pulse properly.
"Like this," you coaxed, looking up at him. The river outside continued to ebb and flow, the water curling against the riverbank the way your fingers did around Sukuna's tattooed wrist. He closed his eyes and hummed, relishing in calm after the storm.
For the very first time since his fall, Sukuna felt no pain in the silence that followed.
From your not so secret admirer, some blooms for you <3
This is the cutest thing ive seen today after my shift liaaaaaa 🥹 thanks for the help youve been over the past few weeks and im so happy to be your mutual <33
── sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs :: you try getting off to porn one day, but are cut short by two nuisances interrupting you. Under their watchful eyes, you quit masturbation — but what happens when you become too pent up to handle? (5.4k words)
The thing about having an overactive imagination was the fact you needed virtually no visual stimulation to get yourself off. All you had to do was lie there, conjure up the image of hands running down your body, and you were good to go.
But curiosity took a hold of you one day.
What if you were to … watch porn for once?
The thought was a dangerous one. You knew once you went into that rabbit hole, there was no coming back. But even though you were aware of the possible issues, you still plugged in your earphones one night and opened Twitter.
You didn't have the faintest idea on where to begin, blindly searching up 'porn' in the search bar.
There was no doubt about it — you got plenty of results back, enough to make you gasp aloud and fling your phone across the bed. Your earphones popped out of place and a fierce heat blooming across your cheeks. The four second clip of a man sloppily jerking off looped on repeat.
With a hand to your mouth, you shuffled forwards and grabbed your phone again. A different video played, and you settled against the pillows propping you up against the headboard.
This time — you checked the tags of the videos that came after. Clicked on a few. Cocked your head in confusion.
"PAWG…? Goonette," you mumbled to yourself, entranced by the new world you had exposed yourself to. The terminology was foreign, but by the time you were ready to get yourself off, having worked up quite the appetite for an orgasm — you knew them like the back of your hand.
And so you leaned back at last, thighs parting as the sensation of your hand slipping between eased you into relaxation. Your thumb hovered a thumbnail, pressed down.
Lo and behold — tentacle porn.
"Are you really getting of to that?"
"Hush, Ryomen. I want to see if she touches herself."
"Pah! Of course she will, can't you smell—"
You let out a piercing shriek. The sound of two distinct voices, one on either shoulder filled your ears. "Nonono, get off of me, get off of me—"
"Woah, now," the one adorned in white yelped, clutching onto your earlobe. His white wings ruffled against your skin as he hung on for dear life. "That's no way to treat an angel, is it?"
The apparently named 'Ryomen' scoffed, barely moving an inch as you swiped your hands over your shoulders in a poor attempt to rid yourself of the intruders. "No one gives a shit about your kind, Satoru. Now stop panicking, woman. We aren't going anywhere."
"Please go somewhere else. This is majorly freaking me out right now."
You were hyperventilating, eliciting a groan from 'Ryomen'. Satoru had fluttered his way onto your right shoulder again, peering at your face as you tried making sense of all of this. "What, don't tell me you're new to the whole concept of having an angel and a devil on your shoulder."
That earned the white-haired man a sidelong glare from you. His body was adorned in a silky robe, the right side of his body exposed. There was a certain mischievous look in Satoru's eyes, however — which led you to believe that there was more to the being than what lingered on the surface.
"No. N-no, I'm not," you murmured, rubbing at your temples. "But you're not— I'm not supposed to see you."
"Who said?" 'Ryomen' retorted, scowling up at you. The devil was also wearing a robe, but it only covered his lower half, whereas Satoru's looped around his shoulders. Strands of pink, dishevelled hair stuck up from his head in messy angles, and for some peculiar reason — he had four arms and four eyes.
You exhaled slowly and slumped back, trying to reason with the debacle. "You have a point but… this is not normal. Can't you go back to, I don't know, being invisible?"
"No can do, pretty lady," Satoru grinned. "We want to watch."
"Watch what?"
"Watch you masturbate, of course! That devil Sukuna over there has been waiting for a moment like this," Satoru cackled, rubbing his two hands together. Sukuna nodded in agreement, and it was at that moment you wondered who really was the devil between the two.
"No can do, this is my private time. Go back to where you were before."
"We have always been here," Sukuna chimed in, his pointed black tail swirling behind him. "You were simply unaware this entire time."
You froze in your place. Then, your face paled.
This… entire time?
As in, through your failed first dates? Through that one time your ex Naoya rubbed at the crease of your upper thigh instead of your clit? Through the numerous times you've gotten off to the thought of seemingly nothing?
You shrieked again, Satoru joining you as you flopped onto your stomach. Your pillow heaved under your weight as you almost sobbed into it out of sheer embarrassment. Sukuna, sick of both of your antics, tugged at a stray piece of hair. "Get up. Where is your dignity?"
"Gone," you wailed, nails digging into the cotton. "Gone like my will to live."
Satoru cooed, stroking the side of your neck and ignoring the way you shrank under his tiny touch. "Theeere, there. I don't know why you're so upset. There's nothing we haven't seen before."
"That's the problem! Oh, I wish you hadn't revealed yourself to me."
"Quit your sulking and get used to it," Sukuna grunted, now peering inside of your ear — just because he could.
You huffed, defeated. Why now, out of all possible times did they choose to appear — when you were at your most vulnerable? Did everyone have their own set of angels and demons? There were simply too many questions, and some you didn't want to know the answer to.
Satoru was still stroking your neck, pleased to see that you had calmed down somewhat. "Now, are you going to, y'know… get back to what you're doing?"
"Reeaal subtle." Sukuna shook his head.
"No. Not until you've both disappeared. Until then, I'm not touching myself."
"Bit dramatic, no?" Satoru sighed, clearly in disappointment. No pussy today, it seemed. "If we go away after you're done, will you touch yourself?"
Sukuna grinned inwardly at the lie.
…
"You promise?"
"I promise. I'm an angel, aren't I?" Satoru murmured deceptively soft into your right ear, lulling you into a false state of comfort. You nodded, chewing on your lower lip as you grabbed your phone and leaned back yet again. Sukuna was elated, leaning forward to look over your left shoulder. Then, his face soured.
"Tentacles," he spat. "My natural enemy."
"What, don't tell me an octopus kicked you out of heaven," you snorted, unplugging your earphones out of the port. Satoru tightened his lips, stifling a laugh.
"Do not bring that up around me, insolent girl."
"She struck a nerve, did she?" Satoru taunted, leering at the devil.
The two went back and forth for a while as you willed your heart to slow down. The initial shock of the two beings had worn off somewhat, but there was still a part of you that was so terribly conflicted — refusing to accept anything beyond the explainable boundaries of science.
Click, click!
"You think too much, seriously." Satoru snapped his fingers in front of you in an attempt to grab your attention. You glanced down, then at Sukuna. "This world came from plants and berries, and somehow we have Bluetooth — yet you want to question the existence of two beings who have existed in religious scriptures for millennia?"
There was no arguing when he put it that way. Even the gruff Sukuna seemed to agree, nodding thoughtfully. "Well put, pest."
"Thanks, sweetie."
"Okay, okay. Fine, you can watch but you gotta disappear after," you bargained, reminding them of Satoru's promise.
"Deal," they both said in unison.
With a swallow, you played the video. Hentai, it seemed to be — with a female lead already gagging around a slimy tentacle as another wiggled its way into her drooling cunt. She was stuffed full a beat later, eyes rolled back until the whites showed for dramatic effect.
Schlick-schlick-schlick!
As if having forgotten about the three pairs of eyes on you, your fingers were already circling around your clit, toes clenching as you stared at your phone — hypnotised.
"Look at her go," Satoru whispered, loud enough for Sukuna to hear. The latter's face screwed up a tad, in pleasure rather than annoyance. As if the mere sight of you making yourself feel good was getting him off.
Which it was.
There was a movement, two under Sukuna's pale robes. His lower cock twitched, followed by the upper one — until both stood tall, hot and leaking.
Satoru was warm in the face, refusing to let go of skin-on-skin contact with you. He leaned against the side of your throat, pretending as if he wasn't peppering the flesh with soft kisses that were too small for you to notice.
"Hah— shit," you mumbled sluggishly, letting your head fall back with a dull thud against your headboard.
One of your fingers slipped in, turning into two and causing your shoulders to tense in response. With a frantic rhythm, you thrust your fingers in 'n out of you — a chorus of garbled mewls leaving you
Safe to say, the hentai was long forgotten. The real show was you, and both the angel and devil were entranced.
"Atta girl," Sukuna grunted, eyes growing lidded when your hips jerked into your hand. "Keep fucking yourself like that for me."
"For us," Satoru croaked, but not before throwing the other man a glare.
You nodded, thumbing at your clit again before renewing your efforts inside of yourself. They watched as your eyes screwed shut, fingers desperately searching for that one spot inside of you that'd make you—
"Gah—"
"Crook your fingers now. Keep pressing."
Sukuna guided you through the fierce orgasm, Satoru having chosen to nip at your neck. Your cunt spasmed uncontrollably, body wracked with unbearable pleasure that sparked behind your eyelids.
After the endorphin rush had finished its round through your body, you lay there utterly spent. The two on your shoulders had enough of a mind to not jerk off in fears that you'd scream again — but they were undoubtedly pent up, ready to stick their cocks into either you or each other.
"Yeaaah, that was something. Phew," Satoru laughed, like he hadn't been on the verge of rutting his boner against the dip of your collarbone. "We should do that again sometime."
You grumbled, brows furrowed as you pulled your fingers from out of your panties and cleaned your hand on some wipes you kept on your bedside table. Satoru gasped in awe, eyeing the wetness that coated your pruning fingers.
"Fat chance. You promised you'd leave, so leave."
"If you thought he was serious, you are greatly mistaken," Sukuna said bluntly. You turned to look at him, one corner of your lips lifting in what resembled a grimace.
"You're kidding."
"No, I'm not," Satoru beamed, as if the halo on top of his head was nothing but a farce.
"You're a pain in my ass, both of you," you snapped, hirling the balled-up wad of tissue into your waste basket across the room. Satoru merely hummed, quite pleased at the fact he managed to draw an orgasm out of you under his tactical manipulation.
Sukuna adjusted the robe over his crotch, not even bothering to hide his twin erections. "Not yet," he promised, for real this time. "Now go wash your hands, they smell like the tentacles you got off to."
"Shut the fuck up."
════════════════
It had been days, weeks, centuries, since you had gotten off since that day. That bastard of an angel was no worse than Sukuna, slithering around his words like the snake that got the demon kicked out of Paradise itself.
"Touch yourself," he'd coo in your ear. "You know you want to."
You would vehemently deny his allegations, turning to Sukuna for help. But he proved to be useless as well — dragging the tip of his forked tail down against your collarbone until you were twitching in mild discomfort.
"So what if he wants a show? You have given us one already, may as well give another. Slutty girl."
You wanted to tear your hair out.
That promise Satoru lingered in the back of your mind, broken as the two became a permanent fixture in your life despite your protests. At work, they'd run their tiny mouths, egging you on to get off. Stick a pen inside, Satoru would snicker. Sukuna would tell him to shut up, before offering to dive between your legs himself.
There had been one too many occasions where your coworkers would walk in you cursing at yourself, to which you'd have to laugh off the odd behaviour with a shitty excuse. "Flies. Headache, right?"
Disregarding the social aspects of your new dilemma, you also had no privacy. Using the restroom or even taking a shower proved to be a task more difficult than it should've been, with flirtatious comments thrown your way without a second thought.
"What big breasts you have," Satoru gasped, ogling over the front of your shoulder. "Are they for me?"
"No, me. Half-wit," Sukuna scowled, looking at you to see if you'd agree.
"They're for no one, actually. Now silence yourselves before I attempt to drown the two of you." You couldn't, you found out — after almost taking yourself out in the process.
A shame, indeed.
Somehow, your biggest worry had to be the fact that you hadn't masturbated in a while. Prior to the appearance of Satoru and Sukuna, you were able to get off a few times a week. Now, you were face to face with a dry spell that seemed like it wouldn't go any time soon — unless you gave in and touched yourself regardless if they were watching or not.
You were prone to snapping more at them both, and Satoru spoke out one day, confirming both of their suspicions about you.
"Jeez, someone's antsy that they haven't had time to stroke their pretty clit in a while."
"It would be a lot easier if you just went at it," Sukuna retorted. "You bought a cucumber, no? Just use that."
"My lack of apparatus isn't the problem," you bit back, flopping onto your bed. "I'm able to orgasm well enough with just my fingers."
"Yeah, we know," Satoru sang, reminding you yet again of how they had always been here at your side — even when you were masturbating alone.
Sukuna pondered for a second, seating himself atop your shoulder, legs dangling down. "Are you getting performance anxiety? We can look away."
His words were followed by a noise of protest from the white-haired angel, who was adamant on seeing your face screw up in pleasure. You shook your head, thighs pressing together. The desperation was becoming unbearable at this rate.
"I can't get off when you're both here, watching like two little voyeurs who have positively ruined my life," you vented, half sitting up now. "Every little thing I do is turned into something sexual and I can't have a moment's peace."
"…okay, but you literally moaned sliding in a sausage between a hot dog bun yesterday—"
"That is irrelevant."
"Is not."
"Is too."
Sukuna groaned, rubbing at his temples with two of his four hands. He saw a simple solution, yet neither of you two were able to shut up for a single moment. So he cleared his throat and spoke, voice bellowing louder than you had ever heard it before, commanding both of your attention. Satoru swooned. You gulped.
"Now if both of you are done, I would like to propose a way to amend your ... sexual frustrations."
He paused for dramatic effect, causing your face to fall into a deadpan state. "On with it."
"We both fuck you."
…
"And how do you propose you both do that, exactly?" You snapped at the devil. "Because that second get down there, my pussy is swallowing you both whole and you're getting lost in there."
Satoru sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the prospect. "Wouldn't mind that, pretty lady."
"Quiet."
Sukuna went on. "I mean, we could both show you. As long as you are up for it."
"Never. Not in a million years."
Satoru shrugged, leaning back on his hands. He knew all he had to do was do a little sweet talking, and you'd be putty right under his angelic little hands. "Suit yourself, baby. But… is it so wrong of us to want to make you feel good? To give you that orgasm that you've been craving for so, so long?"
You didn't answer, slumping against the warm sheets.
"I know you want it. Just let us take over, get rid of that silly ache between your thighs."
"You are far too easy on her," Sukuna rumbled, joining in on the fun. His breath was warm against the shell of your ear, causing your own breathing to deepen. "I am sure she would rather listen to how much I want to ravage her, stuff her full with my twin cocks and leave her screaming—"
"Tch. No thanks," Satoru butted in. "You have to be gentle with a fine thing like her. Make her sing out instead of scream, you brute."
Meanwhile, you were too busy getting hot in the face. You tugged at the collar of your tee, denying the fact that your pussy was probably clenching their names in morse code.
B r e e d m e … she seemed to say.
The devil and the angel noticed your silence, casting each other a knowing look.
"So what's the verdict? Ready to see what we have in store for you?"
With that, you nodded — albeit somewhat reluctantly. Curiosity seemed to win after all.
The slight weight on your left and right shoulders seemed to disappear. It was odd how any sense of relief you should've felt meagre, and you could only blink in the emptiness of your bedroom.
Before they returned again, of course. Bigger, better. The mattress creaked, and the sound of feathers ruffling grew louder.
The pair loomed in front of you, rather predatory grins on either of their faces. Sukuna's muscles seemed to bulge out, a whoosh of air leaving his flared nostrils as he seemed to flex the taut skin. Satoru was slimmer in comparison, but by no means small. His feathers spread out before him in full, ample pecs rippling with the movement.
"Wasn't expecting this, were you?"
Your jaw sagged. Not only were the men at full size, but their voices had changed from that incessant, tinny buzz in your ear to something much deeper, taunting.
Now, you weren't easy by any means — but the speed at which your legs spread was obscenely quick.
"Eager little thing," Sukuna crooned first, situating himself between your parted thighs. He was still standing, and his sheer height forced you to lay down on your back. Two of his four arms braced the sides of your head, and no porn could amount to the sheer lust present on the devil's face at that moment. He had been waiting a long while, and he wasn't about to shrink until he finally had a taste of the sweetness between your thighs.
Of course, so did Satoru. The angel's face turned, and he attempted to barge Sukuna out of the way to no avail. "Fuck— move, you oaf. Are we not sharing?"
"She has two holes, I have two cocks. You are deluded if you think you are getting a taste of her cunt any time soon."
"Sure," Satoru mumbled, moving around the bed and clambering onto it. He sat gracefully on his knees, manoeuvring your head onto his lap as he smiled down at you. "Hey there, sweet thing."
"…Hi."
"You want both of us, right? Tell me it's not just him."
You opened your mouth. closed it, felt something long twitch underneath your head. Suddenly, everything felt right, as if you were where you were meant to be with your angel behind you and your devil in front of you. It was only inevitable that you felt this way sooner or later — after all, they had been with you for your entire life.
A shaky sigh left you. "Yeah," you uttered. But that wasn't enough for the duo.
"Say it with conviction, little one," Sukuna hissed. "Say it as if you mean it. As if you would die without our cocks bulging you out from the inside."
"Please, 'kuna. Want your cocks in me," you began to whine, tone taking on a higher pitch you didn't mean to adopt. Satoru thumbed at your face, stroking your cheeks and raking his fingers through your hair — like he wasn't leaking under you.
He shook his head, speaking up. "And not mine? You wound me, precious."
"N-no, please. Need both of you in me. Please."
"Greedy thing."
And then everything shifted. Your head was flat against the bed, Satoru having straddled your face after shifting his robes to the side. Easy access, he claimed, giving you the full view of his smooth balls and veined cock — long and stiff to the touch. His tip was flushed, dripping steadily over your parted lips. "Say 'ah', pretty."
You opened your mouth, willing your throat to relax as Satoru slipped in. He let out a breathy groan, head tipping back and halo tilting on its axis once you hollowed your cheeks around his aching cock. Sukuna watched with greedy, red eyes — wanting the same treatment.
Satoru looked down fondly, hips moving on their own accord as you swallowed around his cock like it was almost nothing. You gagged here and there, throat constricting when he pushed in too deep. "Ah, sorry. You can h-handle it, can't you, pretty?"
A wet gurgle left you, your body rocking as Satoru used your mouth to get himself off. Sukuna was busy shucking off your undergarments, muttering to himself about how wet your panties were in his grip.
There your pussy was, bared out in the open and glistening with the result of the pair's dirty talk. Sukuna unconsciously licked his lips, lowering himself to a puny human's level just so that he could have a taste.
A fat, wet stripe of his tongue lathered your pussy in his saliva, causing you to jerk at the sudden sensation. The movement lodged Satoru's cock further down your throat, the bulge visible for anyone to see. He keened, whimpering as you slurped down what you could manage — breathing heavily through your nose. "Gonna cum if she keeps this up, ngh…"
"Already, Satoru?" Sukuna chuckled throatily between gulps. He was eating you out with vigour, spitting onto your pussy before diving back in. His tongue plunged in and out of you, lapping up each and every ounce of wetness you had to offer. "I did not take you for a premature ejaculator."
"Sh-shut up," the angel keened in response, covering his face with a large hand. His wings ruffled, as if imitating the twitches of his cock. Sukuna found the sight begrudgingly endearing, peering up through thick lashes at his partner in crime. Then he dipped his head down, letting out a huff of laughter at the shrill squeal that left you.
Sukuna had plans, which was why he was kissing your puckered hole. It was so utterly debauched, the way he circled around your rim before pushing inside with even the slightest warning. Two fingers scissored your pussy open with a squelch, digging around like you had done the first time Satoru and Sukuna had manifested in their physical form. Meanwhile, another two hands kept your thighs open, and a third joined in on prepping your ass.
"M-mmph!" You spluttered around Satoru's thrusting cock. Your holes tightened and loosened sporadically at the foreign intrusion, which you couldn't decide if you enjoyed or not. Ultimately, the sensation of the dual penetration had your cries of protest dulling down to something more husky, more receptive. "Tho pfthfull—"
"Can't understand a word you are saying, woman," Sukuna tutted, slapping meanly at your thigh. You winced at the pain-turned-pleasure blooming across your flesh. Satoru had your back though, kind of.
"Easy on the poor girl," he somewhat purred through his ragged pants. His hand was loosely on top of the bulge in your throat, hips still rocking feverishly. "How is she meant to speak when you're ravishing her cunt with your tongue?"
Sukuna pulled off of you with a resounding pop, tongue darting out to clean whatever wetness he could reach that had accumulated on the lower half of his face. "You sound jealous, foolish angel. Would you rather have my tongue in your tight little pucker instead?"
"You are vile," Satoru spat, stuttering through an orgasm. Sukuna watched, entranced as your throat worked to swallow each drop of the angel's seed. The dirty talk proved to be too much for him to handle, causing him to bow above you as he rode out the aftershocks of his sudden orgasm.
He pulled out of your mouth eventually, mumbling out a weak apology for the abuse he had laid on your poor throat.
"Compensate me for that, by the way. I think I hurt the pretty thing," Satoru sighed, stroking your forehead dramatically. You coughed, dizzy as the men stripped you of all clothing. An onslaught of stimulation made you shudder, breasts moulding to the shape of their greedy hands. Your back was against Satoru's firm chest, and Sukuna had taken it upon himself to sandwich you in between them both.
"Had you not cum at the thought of me eating you out, she wouldn't be hurt," Sukuna simpered, leaning over your shoulder. You gripped his biceps, eyes wide as the men 'bantered'. They were nose to nose, breaths mingling with each other until—
mwah!
You gawked at the sound, the sight of Satoru initiating a cheeky kiss first with the devil. Sukuna withdrew, shocked, before diving back in with double the enthusiasm. Lips collided. Teeth gnashed against each other, a sudden power play initiating where there was no clear victor.
There would've been complaints at the lack of attention you were seeing if not for how arousing this all was, seeing two contrasting beings make out sloppily, until webs of spit connected them both when they separated. Satoru pressed forward, chasing the strings until he was kissing Sukuna once more. "M-mmh…"
You leaned forward yourself, ass pushing back into Satoru's crotch as you nipped at Sukuna's throat — leaving a plethora of hickies he'd have fun showing off the next day. A guttural grunt left him when they finally broke apart, dazed as he focused his lidded eyes back on you.
"Won't you give me it now? I've been so patient," you pleaded, interrupted when Satoru turned your face to meet his.
He pecked you teasingly, squishing your cheeks with his set of long fingers. "Be specific now. Tell your dear Satoru what you needed from me properly." Sukuna nodded, disrobing. You tried to look, but Satoru's hand kept you in place. "Say it."
"Give me your cocks. Fill me up, any… anything. Please, I've been waiting," you continued, almost tearing up at how painfully empty you felt all of a sudden.
And then, a sudden pressure, smooched at your pussy. It glided up to your clit first, then back down before pushing in. A choked gasp tore out of your throat, nails digging into Sukuna's arms, shoulders, back as his upper cock pushed in. At the same time, Satoru eased his tip into your ass, a new sensation that had you wailing into the crook of Sukuna's neck.
"Shh, you can take it, can't you?" The angel rasped, shaking as your virgin hole tried milking him dry. He wasn't a cruel angel, mostly — which was why he waited, why he didn't push in any further. You nodded to the best of your ability, holding on for dear life.
Sukuna didn't wait, however. Your pussy was greedy, swallowing up his length which definitely had a thicker girth than Satoru's did. The veins were plump, angry as they bullied their way inside you. The devil's lower cock rubbed between the sensitive space between both of your holes — but you barely noticed when Satoru pushed the slightest bit deeper inside of you.
"Stop prodding my dick with yours," he breathed, fondling your breasts with the little space he had between you and Sukuna's flushed bodies. "You'll give a man ideas."
"You only getting ideas after your lips were against mine? You jest, surely," Sukuna questioned, perplexed. He thrust into you at a languid pace, the tendons of his neck stretching as he rolled his shoulders back to prop you up against him properly. Satoru merely shrugged, peppering your bare shoulders with affectionate little pecks.
"Talk about this when we're done fucking our lady. Look at her, sulking at the lack of attention."
"S-stop, 'm not sulking," you denied, folded in half now as the men fucked you at the same time. All words were thoroughly pushed out of you, pleasure brought to the forefront of your mind — until your eyelids drooped and the soft uh's that left you were the only thing you could bring yourself to say.
"The look on your face is rather— shit, erotic," Sukuna teased, throat bobbing when your pussy convulsed with an impending orgasm. "You're close, I can feel it."
"Already?" Satoru let out a quiet whine, coaxing another inch inside of your ass. "I haven't even bottomed out yet."
Sukuna had, though — balls slapping against the curve of your rear as he fucked you to the very hilt. The wet patch of hair at the base grazed against yours, the devil's hips gyrating in a circular movement. It stimulated your clit, making your muscles tense and relax repeatedly.
Satoru was shaking his head, almost to the point of tears when your ass clenched, refusing to let go. "Gonna cum, baby. Gonna cum in this sweet hole 'n lick it aaalll up after. You want that, baby? You want me to—"
"Quit your rambling and make her cum, fool," Sukuna gritted through his teeth, thumb rolling your clit with purpose. Satoru huffed, but eventually relented — sucking at your earlobe as his hips plapped against your ass. "She's there, she's nearly there. Theeere we go, see?"
"Cumming, ohmygod—!" You squealed, toes curled and a burst of moisture spraying Sukuna right in the chest. His pert nipples glistened with your wetness. It dripped down his chiseled stomach, all the way down until it splattered down both of the men's cocks and onto the ruined sheets below.
Only then did Satoru spill a hot load inside of you, eyes rolling back like he had been possessed.
It triggered Sukuna's orgasm, who had bit down onto your throat to hold his husky groans back — to no avail. Ropes of cum, bitter to the taste, filled you up from both ends. Cursed creampies, the devil would joke, had he been in an appropriate state of mind, but your pussy was hot and Sukuna was a goner for the way you clung onto him like a vice.
You didn't know who recovered first, only dimly aware the three of you were lying down. Satoru was barely conscious anyway, mumbling about how good you felt around him. Sukuna hovered over you, all four eyes on his release spurting out of you in thick globs. It took everything in him to look away, to not fuck you again when you were so clearly spent.
"Apologies, dove. I will have you cleaned."
But his words fell on deaf ears as unconsciousness gripped you tight — much like the way you clung onto Sukuna's hands, refusing to let go.
════════════════
"This one?"
"No, put that other one on, the one with the— yeah."
"Again, you glorified chicken? Homosexuals do not arouse me."
You sighed for the nth time that night, cosied up beside the two nuisances that had admittedly made your life much more interesting. Sukuna fucked you. So did Satoru. Sometimes they fucked you at the same time. Hell, they even fucked each other.
Long weeks had passed since your first time with the two, and honestly? Despite your initial apprehension, all of the embarrassment you felt had disappeared, and they no longer felt like a nuisance in your life.
Letting them introduce you to a new world of pleasure was certainly the best decision you had made in a long time — and all it took was a little bit of tentacle porn to get that started.
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