meowth⋆˚✿˖°

18 yrs old posting whatevr my mind thi. nks : )

[chosayi]

plug!choso who you only hear about because your friend swears up and down that he is the most reliable dealer in the area.

plug!choso who your friend texts first instead of giving you his number right away because apparently he does not just deal with anyone.

plug!choso who shows up exactly on time the first time you see him, and is surprised that a pretty girl like you were buying from him.

plug!choso who barely talks at first, just asks what you need in a calm low voice.

plug!choso who notices you’re not reckless or loud like some of the other people he meets.

plug!choso who hands you his number after that first link and says to text him directly next time. your friend just raises their brows like oh!

plug!choso who starts responding to you faster than he responds to anyone else even though he tells himself it doesn’t mean anything.

plug!choso who later on asks for your instagram just to stay in contact with you more (as if your number wasn’t enough) and lowkey stalks your highlights whenever he’s high or horny and you’re not there.

plug!choso who’s favorite customer is you and reassures you that you don’t have to pay.

plug!choso who stays a little longer whenever he drops your stuff off instead of leaving right away. and when he does, he leaves you with extra weed and goodie bags filled with candy and chips.

plug!choso who realizes that his feelings for you may be stronger than the drugs he sells/takes.

plug!choso who finally stops contemplating with his foggy brain and asks if he can smoke with you at your place and feels genuine happiness for the first time in a while when you say yes.

plug!choso who feels a foreign sense of nervousness when he is standing in front of your door because he realizes this is not one of his regular drop offs and is more about the two of you actually hanging out.

plug!choso who feels his throat get stuck and his dick swell in his pants when you open the door in a black & white polka dot shorts and cami set that defines your body better than ever, your nipples prodding slightly through the thin fabric.

plug!choso who listens to you talk about your day so sweetly and insists on helping you roll the blunt because he is afraid your french tip nails will poke a hole in the paper and brings water to your mouth whenever you cough a little too hard.

plug!choso who gets warmer and more touchy with you three blunts later, his hand rubbing along your thigh when you inhale and exhale.

plug!choso who leaves you dizzy when he gently grabs your chin and blows smoke into your mouth, his lips so close to yours you can still smell the mint underneath everything, and before you can stop yourself you lean in and kiss him.

plug!choso who ends up between your thighs after the kiss that escalated into a messy makeout session. tongue pressing flat against your throbbing clit.

“chooo! f-fuck,” you gasped, pedicured toes curling as he continued to eat you off the bone. his groans vibrated through your core, and nasty obnoxious slurps filled the room.

“y’ taste so good. s’ sweet.” he was high out of his mind. giving you sticky kisses on your clit, and tests the waters by slipping one finger in… then another. wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucks really hard. trying his best to make you cream on his tongue and he doesn’t fail.

plug!choso who makes the sexiest face when his tip pushes into your walls. jaw dropping, brows turning up, eyes extremely low.

plug!choso who becomes the most talkative during sex. “i’ve been trying to fuck you for so long,” he said, plunging his dick in and out of you. “this feels good, yeah? talk to me, baby. please.”

plug!choso who becomes the first man to ever make you squirt.

plug!choso who’s a complete whimpering mess when he’s close. he cums so good. so hard to the point where he almost blacked out and collapsed right on top of you. his head falling right between your boobs, and you lazily rub his face, giving him kisses on his sweaty temple until he softens inside of you. he was in heaven.

plug!choso who you cannot get enough of after your smoke sesh so you call him to come over but not for weed this time.

plug!choso who goes from being your favorite eater to your sweet boyfriend and sometimes takes you on his trips despite protesting for you to stay home because he does not want you involved in his work.

@chosayi 2026 (my debut post… hiii :3)

[satomiu]

　　　♡　 ׄ　HANDLE IT ! ✉️　 ۫ 　❛ 五条 ! ꒰　18+  ❤︎　  ꒱　⎯⎯  satoru with a girlfriend who has ass for days ! ♡  : thick woc reader

“he can’t handle allat” is something satoru hears all the time ever since he started dating you. you with thick thighs, rounded hips, soft skin . . . truthfully, the comments only seemed to make him cling to you harder, all wandering hands and worsening self control.

sure, he was a pretty lean guy . . . long limbs, narrow waist, shoulders just broad enough to give shape under his clothes, but never bulky. and yet, gojo still felt overwhelmingly big.

so, much bigger.

especially when you sat in his lap and your thighs still spilled over his expensive slacks while his body practically swallowed yours whole; or when he would hold your face during kisses, thumb brushing your cheek while the rest of his hand spread warm against your jaw and neck.

truth be told, it was you who couldn’t quite handle him. not that anyone needed to know that of course. still, despite it all, satoru couldn’t help the faint flicker of irritation that bubbled up in his chest whenever people assumed otherwise.

“just look at us. we make too much sense together!” humming lightly as if he wasn’t drilling his cock into you: your walls swallowing his dick with each thrust. veins visible beneath his pale skin, fingertips digging softly into the plush flesh of your hips, the fabric of your pink satin gown pooling into the small of your back, bed creaking underneath the sheer force of his thrust.

he’s got you face down in the sheets, a soft silk pillow braced beneath your hips for support, the fabric cool against your warm skin — a sweet, sweet contrast to how his length stretched you out as his pelvis slammed into you, sending harsh ripples through your skin as he stuffed you full of himself to the hilt.

“mmmph— toru! shut uup!” you whined as his flared tip dug into the pulpy spot hidden away in your walls, leaving your pussy fluttering around his cock as he coated your skin in soft kisses and suckles.

one thing you learned about satoru was that once he got into his head, there was no easy way of pulling him out.

if anything, he was fully locked in. as if the only thing mattered was fucking you senseless, as evidence the two of you belonged together. which, quite frankly, you needed no convincing of. not when he spoiled you so much.

“you don’t think that’s true, right baby?” he hums, a genuine pout on his face, leaning over you, his bare chest flush against your back before tugging your earlobe gently between his teeth, making you suck in a sharp breath.

your hands tightened against the sheets as his tip relentlessly squishes against your sweet spot without even meaning to.

you only let out a muffled cry at his question, soft “oou’s” and “ahh’s” escaping your throat: each thrust getting wetter and messier by the second. the veins of his cock scraping against each nook and cranny of your velvety walls as you practically milked him dry, clamping down on him as his hips snapped forward into you, wetness pooling down between your thighs & drool spilling out into the sheets as your eyes glazed over prettily.

pretty.

you were so fucking pretty.

gojo always loved when you got like this. a pretty drooling mess, all because of his dick. all because of him.

“pretty,” he choked out, “pretty, pretty girl, so mgnh— fuckin’ pretty”, he gushed mindlessly, drunk off your puffy cunt, coating his cock in white sticky streaks, a creamy ring of white spreading over his shaft as your ass bounced off of him over n’ over again.

his hand slivered down over your arm before wrapping around your hand, fingers lacing through yours as he pressed a firm bite to your shoulder, “c’mon… answer me.” voice muffled against your heated skin, but unmistakably impatient.

“toru !” you mindlessly babbled, half scolding, half pleading as you pathetically pushed yourself back on his dick trying to chase more of him, burying your face in the sheets entirely as if to escape him, “wanna— please!”

“wanna what? go ahead, baby. say what you’re thinkin’.” he practically growls against your ear, his grip on your hips not ceasing their brutal pace.

“cum— wanna cum, please”, you gasped out, words slurred together, voice syrupy, holding onto any last semblance coherence.

“mm? you’re close?” he cooed against your ear, “use your words pretty girl—say what i wanna hear.” his sweaty, damp forehead was buried in the crook of your neck, his full weight squishing you beneath him as he let out a soft whimper against your ear, making you clamp down on him.

“you’re perfect f’me!” you cry out as he removes his hand from the flesh of your hips to tug lightly at your roots, pulling your face from the sheets, lips plush and slick, brows knitted together so perfectly, eyes half-lidded, seconds away from shutting in utter bliss.

with your head tilted, he presses a sloppy kiss to your exposed neck before his teeth met your flesh, followed by his tongue swirling over the sensitive spot. “hah—so fucking perfect!!”

he lets out a low laugh, “good girl… thaaaat’s what i like to hear.” he drawled, his voice breaking off into a heavy groan as his cock twitched inside you, stirring up your guts.

the only thing slipping past your lips now being a messy blend of hiccups and cloying moans, all his sweet words of praise going in one ear and out the other, drowned out by the obscene clap of skin on skin.

his hand tightens around your own, the other sliding up to cup your jaw, leaving just enough pressure to make you whine, bringing your gaze back to his.

his pupils are blown wide, almost unreadable, that crazed edge that made your tummy twist up.

“go on then, cum on your soulmate’s cock.”

and as if under his spell, you do: cunt milking him and your juices spill all over his shaft, coating his sack as your body jolted everso slightly, thighs trembling violently under his touch, face falling back into the cushions as he begrudgingly let go of your face.

before your spasming cunt could milk him dry, satoru groans, squeezing his eyes shut before abruptly pulling out of you, chest heaving as he lets out a shaky laugh under his breath, flared tip red and angry, thin rivulets of precum spilling onto the curve of your ass, cock twitching violently as he held back his own orgasm.

“you’re gonna be the death of me...” he pants from above you, sweat slicked forehead resting heavily against your back.

after a minute of lying under him limp and boneless, your fingers flexed weakly as you tried to steady yourself, trembles soon dying down into stillness, you hum, “satoru…”, voice sweet yet wrecked.

he pips up with a small “mm?”, leaning over your shoulder, clearly amused. taking in how your pretty face was all undone. tear stained, warm and glossy with sweat, lashes clumped together as you only batted your wide, glassy eyes at him, soft confusion sitting behind your cloudy gaze.

“why didn’t you . . . y’know? . . . finish inside?”

he only blinks down at your before letting out a soft laugh: “oh? you want me to cum in you that badly?” he taunts, only earning a frown you.

“fine. i’ll tell you.” he hums as he leans back up to his full stature whilst resting on folded knees. “i’m not done with you yet pretty girl”, smiling as he flips you over, dragging you back to him, hiking your legs up over his shoulders.

you only blink up at him, lips parted, a soft gasp slipping out at the sudden change in position.

“y’know…” he frowns, leaning over you, white strands tickling your forehead. “people are getting a little loud about us.” his thumbs trace lazy circles into your side. “we should probably check if they’re right.”

“as in . . ?”

“well, you could sit on my face for starters!”

yeah.

he was definitely more than you could handle.

wrote this at 3 am 👌🏽

part 2 where he gets suffocated by thighs and dies a happy man whose with me 🤤

[luvrspitt]

╰ 18+ MDNI. calling yuuji a good boy makes him cream his pants

“Fuck baby, do you have any idea how good you taste?” Yuuji's strong arms wrap around your waist fully, thick clammy fingertips chaotically gripping the globes of your ass, easily lifting your lower half off the mattress, hips shaking in the air.

The angle gives him perfect access to your sweet cunt, slipping his long tongue deep inside your hole, flicking and licking every spot that makes your toes curl.

You can’t see him, his face snug down between your thighs like he belongs there, pink locs of wild hair almost as messy as his face surly is by now, lapping you with a crazed fever.

Yuuji doesn’t bother teasing you, not because he doesn’t want to—but because he can’t. He wants to be good for you, wants to hear the sweet praises you give him when you’re close, wants to feel the way your walls convulse on his face when you cum.

You make him feel like he’s deserved it, earning his spot beside you in bed by making you cum hard on his mouth—a trophy only he gets the chance to win; and he wouldn’t dare mess that up for himself.

“Mmm—Yuuji- doing such a good job baby.” you moan, and the praise makes his knees buckle.

He moans in response, thankful that he’s laying flush to the mattress, the muscles in his back tensing each time he folds you deeper and deeper, contorting you without a care in the world.

It’s as if his body has no other choice but to devour you, his angry cockhead bloating heavy in his boxers at each saccharine sound you make, thick v-line thrusting his hips into the sheets in an attempt to dull the ache between his legs.

You poorly attempt to leer down at him, watching as his nose is glued to the soft mound of your cunt, muzzling his face so deeply between your thighs it’s as if he’s replacing the need to breathe with your body.

He almost reminds you of a puppy, tongue ferociously lapping up and down your slit, collecting every last drop of slick that pours from your glistening hole, his mouth always ready to lick you clean.

Yuuji can’t help but add to the wetness, leaning forward just enough to catch a deep breath, he locks his lips shut, collecting a fat glob of pussy flavored spit between his cheeks, nastily spitting it back down to your clit.

He watches it drip down your swollen bead to your hole, placing a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, muttering. “So fucking wet baby, you’re dripping down the bed.”

“Your fault,” you reply breathlessly, and you can feel his mouth move to your slit, mindlessly diving back in to chase your orgasm.

He manages to mumble a response between your thighs, yet his words are completely smothered between your crying cunt, puffy cheeks utterly soaked in a sticky mess of his spit and your essence.

“So messy Yuuji, ‘s like you're a p-puppy.” you’re babbling now, words mindlessly falling without a care in the world because you trust him—trust his mouth to drive you to instability, always giving you exactly what you need every time. Your perfect boy. “S-So good—such a good boy.”

What you don’t realize is how much your words have an affect on him, the praise making his hips stutter recklessly into the mattress, his cock straining in his boxers just right, balls tightening to his core. “O-Oh fuck—” he mumbles, cutting off the sounds with vibrations to your cunt as he soaks his boxers, his orgasm making him dizzy. “Cumming—and-and it’s all for you baby.”

The mess growing at the bottom of the bed is one he can take care of later. He thinks he’ll just have you return the favor and lick him clean, a nice messy reward for him at the end where he gets to taste himself on your tongue, but right now his focus remains on you—his mind paying close attention to the soft hitch of your voice and the wild twist of your thighs snapping around his head.

“Yu—G-Gonna cum!”

He wants to tell you he already knows, tell you how fucking sexy you look cumming on his face like this, yet instead he only groans in approval, keeping his pace perfectly steady so you can cum.

And when you do? you nails fly down to rake in his hair, babbling about just how good of a boy he is.

a/n: DO NOT let me talk about golden retriever yuuji bc the voices will win every damn time

[rambld]

psychiatrist!geto is better to fantasize about than your selfish boyfriend | 18+

cw: mdni, porn with plot, mentions of masturbation, sly suguru, bro is NOT a good psychiatrist lmfao, shy reader at first, office sex, unprotected sex, cheating oops, 3.1k words, art by chuucho95 on x <3

Doctor Geto Suguru is the same age as you.

Yet the wall behind him is mounted with accolades that rivals veterans in his field.

The rain blurs the lights of the city into watercolor smears against the windows of the doctor's office. Inside, the room is silent, scented with sandalwood and the crisp smell of old books. 

Psychiatrist visits inspire thoughts of padded rooms and grippy socks but you're not here due to a sickness of the mind and rather one of the body. One you're certain is going to migrate to your mind if it's not handled now. 

See, you can't come. It's been an issue for a while now that's bothered you and you're tired of faking them with your boyfriend. You've decided to come here and see if it's owing to stress. 

You lay on the leather chaise, the cool material grounding you as you recounted another week of feeling like a ghost in your own relationship. Another week of your boyfriend’s heavy, selfish touch that left you feeling used rather than wanted.

Dr. Geto sits in his chair, a notebook resting on his thigh, slender fingers curled around his fountain pen as he hums, scribbling down notes with intent nods as you speak.

His long, raven hair gathered loosely at the nape of his neck, trailing over the shoulder of his charcoal suit. He's a man of serpentine beauty—fluid, graceful, and deceptively large, his muscular frame filling the tailored fabric in a way that feels both protective and overwhelming. A few strands frame a face that is unnervingly kind.

“The guilt you feel regarding your own body, it’s a symptom of the neglect you’ve endured,” he says, his voice a low, soothing baritone. “You deserve to reclaim your pleasure.”

While his words aren't inherently lewd or explicit, you still squirm in your seat, unaccustomed to discussing such intimate topics with a man let alone a stranger. However, you're trying to get to the bottom of your rocky relationship with sex and how to resolve the unease you feel so this will have to do. 

“How do I do that?” 

“You have to touch yourself.”

Rearing back, you swear the corner of his mouth twitches in amusement at your appalled reaction. “I beg your pardon? Doctor, I can't do that. It's inappropriate.”

“Not here, Miss,” he clarifies and your face warms from jumping to conclusions. “Just from how you're reacting, I can deduce that you haven't indulged in self pleasure before. You don't know what you enjoy and have no autonomy over your body. Hence, you need to experiment and try out new things to figure out what pleases you and what does not.” 

Nodding slowly, your hands twist the hem of your skirt as you absorb his words. The idea of masturbation feels shameful. You're not particularly religious but after growing up in a household where it was seen as a sin to be lustful, you still harbor such thoughts in your subconscious. 

Lifting your shy gaze, you're stripped bare by his amethyst eyes scanning over your face, mentally jotting down every microexpression of discomfort that flickers across it. 

Setting his notebook aside, the gentle smile he graces you with has your stomach flipping. It's startling how just that gesture has you relaxing, his presence easy to melt into, loosening your tongue. 

“As your doctor, I want what's best for you,” he utters your name in that rich, mellow voice of his akin to a wife calling her husband and you perk up. “Please tell me if I'm overstepping your boundaries. I do not mean to be anything other than strictly professional.” 

“Oh, no, no. You're fine. I was just taken aback is all,” you assure him with a shake of your head and an earnest smile. 

Relief loosens the tension in his shoulders, his eyes softening. “Good, now shall we begin?” 

“Yes, please,” that polite word has his irises swirling but you chalk it up to a trick of the light. 

“Alright. Are you okay with following my instructions? There's this genre of audio erotica called guided masturbation which I recommend you look into but for professional purposes, I just want to ease you into it so you're not lost when you try it out, okay?” 

Swallowing, you nod, shifting to get comfortable as you're laying on the plush couch. “Okay.” 

“I want you to close your eyes and imagine your boyfriend touching you. You're in control, he's listening to you and eager to know what pleases you. Tell him how to touch you.” 

Brows twitching, you want to tell him that this seems like an exercise for fitting for sex therapy but he'd already told you in your last session that he creates these activities based on the specific needs of his patients according to his observations and what he deems necessary.

“Where would you like him to start?” he asks in a quiet voice that wavers like you're suspended in a body of water, waves lapping at your bobbing body. “Your lips? Your neck? Your chest?” 

Hand rising, you brush your fingers over your lips, eyes fluttering shut as they tingle. “My lips.” 

“How do they feel against his ones?” 

“Soft like petals.” 

“How do you want him to kiss you?” 

Tongue peeking out, you tentatively lick the pad of your finger, tasting salt. “With…tongue. I've never done that before. He's always refused.”

And perhaps that is why your brain cannot conjure the image of him kissing you. You've always had a vivid imagination but now his silhouette is distorted like the still surface of water disturbed by pebbles dropped into it. 

“Does it feel good?” 

“This is hard,” you admit, embarrassed. 

“How so?” 

“I can't picture him doing this.”

The psychiatrist goes silent for a few moments, the faint sound of traffic and the ticking of the clock on the wall all that fills your ears, amplified by your lack of sight.

“No worries, you can picture someone else. A teenage crush, maybe a celebrity you like. Many people fancy imagining their favourite characters too,” he offers simply.

Lips thinning, the daydream you're in darkens, slowly seeping away and your disappointment creeps in. “I can't. Maybe we should try another time—”

“If it’s too difficult to focus on him, imagine me.”

Scandalised by the suggestion, your eyes fly open, head whipping to the side to look at him, your imagination shattering like stained glass hit by a brick. 

“Excuse me? That's hardly appropriate.”

“Am I a worse candidate than your boyfriend?” he questions and your eyes widen at the teasing lilt in his voice.

“Um, no. I just find it odd. Don't you?” 

A smirk curls at the corner of his mouth. “I can assure you that I've had patients who've tried much worse than just picturing me in their fantasies, Miss.” 

Heat licks at your cheeks. “Ah, okay.”

“You have my consent. Ready to continue?” he cocks his head and asks, sleek hair cascading down his shoulder like spilled ink.

Assuming your position again, you sigh, eyes sliding shut. “Yes.”

“Imagine my hands. Where do you want them while we're kissing?”

With your eyes closed, you followed his forbidden directive. Your hands slid over your ribs, trembling. 

“Here,” you murmur, squeezing at your plush waist and skating palms up to the curve of your breasts that tighten. “And here.” 

“Okay, let's start slow. We want to build up the tension, drag it out. There's no finish line to race to. Just feel.” 

Obliging, you run your hands up and down your sides from your hips to your waist, groping and caressing. They're not your delicate fingers but his thick, long ones digging into your flesh over your clothes, grabbing greedy handfuls of you. 

“Does that feel good? My hands gripping at you, feeling you up in fistfuls?” 

The question trickles into your ears, your pulse melting into hot syrup that pools in your stomach and dips between your legs. An airy, needy sigh passes your lips. 

“Great,” you breathe a dreamy sound, thighs rubbing together, skirt bunching up and you can feel the phantom of his deft fingers hooking into the hem to hike it up. 

“Very good,” he praises, voice light and sweet like he's proud of you for being an active participant in this exercise. “Now on to your neck. My lips are grazing your skin there, what do you want from me?” 

“Bite it,” you blurt instantly, brows knotting as your neck warms with the ghost of his teeth sinking into it, your pulse racing against the enamel as he sucks a flowering hickey into the blank canvas of your skin, hot, needling desire swirls in the pit of your stomach and sizzles against your clit.

The dream morphs into something lucid, him hovering over you, caging you with those bulky limbs, mouth latched onto your neck as your nails drag down the cotton of his shirt that's taut against his meaty pecs, the muscles flexing beneath your palms. The zwip, zwip, zwip of your clawing against the fabric, laddering it with how desperately you're scratching. 

His gentle scent of lilies and something woodsy, the tan terrain of his skin, the dips and ridges of his sculpted form, sweat beading his skin, a devouring hunger in his eyes that scares you and arouses you at the same time because it's so visceral and yet he's holding himself back, willing to kneel at your feet and worship you. 

You don't see your boyfriend’s indifferent face; you see Geto's broad shoulders and his dark, predatory gaze softened by that clinical smile as he tells you how good you're doing for him, kissing down your neck and unbuttoning your blouse, calling out your name as you moan in response. 

“Miss [Name].”

No, that's actually him talking to you right now. A big, warm hand clasps your wrist and tugs, your eyes blinking open, vision blurred and slowly clearing as you look at him. 

Tie askew, his hair is not as neat as it was before you shut your eyes and his cheeks are slightly red as he peers at you. 

“Sorry for touching you without your permission but you were getting carried away there,” he apologises, glancing down at your chest and away. 

Glancing down, you gasp as he lets go of your wrist as you see the lace of your bra on display. You'd been undoing the buttons of your blouse, skirt ridden up so far that one move would have your panties flashing him too. 

Mortified, you spring up and he hands you the blanket beside him which you gratefully accept and cover yourself with. “I am so sorry. I didn't realise—”

“It's okay, just tell me that your imagination will work perfectly when you're exploring it yourself somewhere private,” he interjects with a reassuring smile, clearing his throat. 

Clapping, he stands. “Well then, this session is over. We made good progress, I think. Get home safe,” he greets you with a nod, exiting to room to give you privacy to gather yourself.

The fantasy was a revelation. It makes the drive back to your apartment bearable; it makes the shower sessions a sanctuary where you’d slip your hand between your thighs and whisper your psychiatrist's name into the steam.

After all, there's no harm in practicing. It's make believe, it's not like you're cheating on your boyfriend. Everything is alright. 

It's liberating, really. The realisation that you're not a broken woman. That you're not undesirable. Touching yourself becomes a self love ritual. 

The shame that usually curdles in your stomach evaporates, replaced by a searing, liquid heat.

Weeks pass. Your boyfriend is the last thing on your mind. When he fucks you, his movements are still clumsy and selfish, but you simply close your eyes and summon Dr. Geto, hand slipping between your thighs to rub your clit and make yourself come.

You're glowing, revitalized, and Geto watches it all from behind his mahogany desk, taking meticulous notes on your psyche—and your scent.

For months, he had been the architect of your recovery. After your boyfriend had spent years treating your body like an inconvenient vessel for his own release, Geto had taught you that your pleasure was a sovereign right.

During your final session, the air in the room changed—charged, heavy with the scent of his expensive cologne and the sudden, sharp intent in his eyes.

“I’ve been observing your progress,” Geto muses, standing up. He moves with the grace of a panther on the prowl, stopping beside the chaise. “You’re smiling more. You’re distancing yourself from the man who doesn't deserve you. But there is a final stage to this therapy—one that addresses the psychosomatic tension you’re still carrying.”

The man reaches down, his large, warm hand cupping your cheek. The touch is electric. “Sit up.”

You obey, heart hammering against your ribs. 

He clears the papers from his heavy mahogany desk with a single, slow sweep of his arm. “Your boyfriend treats sex as a conquest. I treat it as a necessity. Bend over, please.”

Fantasy is about to become reality.

Moments later, you're gripping the edge of the polished mahogany, the grain cool against your palms, as Geto comes up behind you. He takes his time as he lifts your skirt, his fingers tracing the line of your spine with agonizing slowness.

“This is the session I've been waiting for,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, his breath hot.

Skirt rolled up to your waist, he bares your ass to him and peels away your soaked panties, picking them up and inhaling your musky sweet scent deeply. It's dizzying, so addictive. He balls up the flimsy cloth and stuffs it into his pocket.

When he eases in, it isn't the clumsy, impatient shove you are used to. It's a slow, deliberate push. He's massive, a solid weight that filled the void your boyfriend had left behind. You let out a shattered cry, your forehead pressing into the desk.

“That's it, you're doing so well,” he growls, his hands catching your hips, his thumbs digging into your hipbones to hold you steady. One hand slides to your belly, pressing down on the bulge there as you whimper. “Feel me here? Feel how perfectly you fit against me."

The drag of his cock inside you is all-consuming. Every time he drives forward, his heavy weight presses you down into the desk, the glossy wood and the heat of his body creating a sensory overload. Each vein and ridge rubs back and forth inside you, tickling all those sweet spots inside you that have your head swimming, drool dribbling from your parted lips and moans spilling from you that you barely recognize. 

"Your body isn't a burden," he whispers, his voice thickening as the friction built toward a fever pitch. "It is a temple, and I am its most dedicated servant. Tell me... does your boyfriend ever make you feel this seen?"

"No," you breathe sharply, vision dimming with heat. You're jelly, your senses dissolving into the scent of his cologne and soap.

"Then let him go," he grits, his grip tightening until his knuckles were white. "Forget his name."

Who?

He leans down, biting the sensitive skin where your shoulder meet your neck, his long hair falling like a curtain around you both. As he hits your deepest point, over and over, you feel the last remnants of your old life shatter.

"This is the only medicine you need," he hums, his voice breaking. "And I'll be sure to provide it whenever you want it."

You could feel the power in his thighs, the strength of his chest against your back as he presses his lips into the softness of your neck, cock sinking into you deeper and deeper with each smooth roll of his hips, the desperate drag of his body against yours nearly molding you two together as his cock carves a home for itself in your snug cunt. 

“Fuck, do you know how good you feel? Sucking me in so greedily, fitting me like a glove. Your boyfriend barely left a mark,” he seethes, biting down on your shoulder as his lazy, savoring thrusts descend into something feral and harsh, grunts thrumming though your skin as the desk creaks and whines with you. 

“Ah, Geto—” 

“Suguru, baby. I'm your Suguru,” he mumbles in a drunken slur against the side of your face, lips smushed to your wet cheek, licking up the tears of pure bliss and relief that streak down your face. 

“Suguru,” you gasp out and a long, drawn-out groan rumbles out of him, his abdomen bunching against your lower back as his hips smack against your plush ass, the flesh rippling. 

“I’ve spent months learning every fracture in your psyche,” he rasps, his pace quickening, the sound of sweat-slick skin slapping skin echoing in the quiet office. “I know exactly where you’re broken. And I know exactly how to fill those spaces.”

He reaches around, his large fingers finding your aching clit, circling with a clinical precision that sends sparks crackling through your vision. You are far gone, your mind turning to white noise as he buries himself to the hilt, over and over.

Cupping your jaw, he turns your face so he can get a good look at you, half-lidded eyes dark and glistening with elation as he takes in your messy hair, smudged eyeliner, tears dotting your lashes and parted lips. 

Ducking down, he licks a hot, wet stripe up your chin, slurping the drool there, tongue delving into your mouth and kissing you sloppy like you had fantasized about for months, hip thrusts stuttering from how sweet and buttery you taste. 

“You’ve never looked better," he moans into your mouth, his voice thick with a dark, satisfied pride as he feels your pussy clench around him in a violent, weeping orgasm, drinking down your whimpers. “This is the only medicine you need from now on. I'll give it to you every time, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you mewl, incapable of saying anymore as you struggle to kiss him, legs quivering and cunt convulsing, drawing his orgasm forward, thick, creamy cum splattering inside your squelching walls. 

You lay slump against the mahogany, breathless and gold-spun with afterglow. Suguru doesn't pull away immediately, buried deep within you, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you together.

"Much better," he sighs, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder, his kind smile returning to his face even as his eyes remained dark with a predatory satisfaction. "I think we’ve made excellent progress today."

Smiling deliriously, you're spent and shimmering, a patient finally cured by the most radical of treatments.

note: i doubt i did that blurb justice huhu but i wanted to write suguru

general tags: @getopilleds @yailuxe @cttelina @dadonprimma @vigumii @petalsmoons @sunabff @luoodle @wwasabiiiii @bruleecream @emluvsgetou @sukubusss

[berrywip]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 18+, mdni

°˖➴ Bf!choso who gets sooo impatient he eats it through the panties </3

The apartment is quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the way your breathing keeps hitching every time Choso’s mouth finds you again.

He’s got you on the edge of the bed, legs draped over his broad shoulders, your thighs already trembling from how long he’s been at it. You’re still wearing the thin cotton panties you put on after your shower—pale lavender, now soaked dark in the center and he hasn’t bothered to take them off. Hasn’t even tried.

“Cho—” you start, voice shaky, but he just groans against you like the sound of his name is gasoline on a fire.

His hands are big and warm on the backs of your thighs, spreading you wider so he can press his face deeper. Tongue flat and insistent, he drags it up the soaked fabric in long, slow licks—right over your clit, right along your folds savoring the taste of you through the cotton like it’s the best thing he’s ever had. The friction of the material makes everything sharper, duller, wetter. You can feel every flick, every hungry swirl, but it’s muffled just enough to drive you insane.

He’s impatient tonight—more than usual. No teasing buildup, no kisses down your stomach, no murmured “let me taste you, baby, please.” Just dropped to his knees the second you sat down, hooked your legs over his arms, and buried his face between them like he’d been starving for it all day.

“Choso, wait—” you gasp when he sucks hard over your clit through the panties, the wet fabric pulling tight against you. Your hips jerk up involuntarily; he chases the movement, tongue pressing harder, trying to get closer, deeper, like the thin barrier is personally offending him.

He doesn’t speak—just makes these low, broken sounds against you, needy and rough. His nose bumps your clit when he tries to push his tongue flat and force it past the cotton, and you whimper, fingers twisting in his dark hair.

“Baby, slow down, I can’t—” Your words dissolve into a moan when he starts these frantic little circles, licking so fast the fabric starts to drag and bunch. It’s too much and not enough at the same time; you’re throbbing, dripping, but the panties keep him from really getting inside you, from flicking directly over that swollen bud the way you need.

He growls in frustration—actually growls—and tries to nose the fabric aside with his face, lips still working, tongue still lapping desperately. His hands slide up to grip your hips, holding you still so he can keep devouring.

“Cho—please—” You’re shaking now, half-laughing, half-pleading. “Let me—just a second—”

You have to physically push at his head with both hands, fingers tangled in the messy strands. He resists for a heartbeat—headstrong, hungry still trying to chase your pussy with his mouth even as you shove him back an inch.

“Baby, wait—wait—” you manage between breaths.

He finally pulls back just enough, lips shiny, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy and wild like he’s been drugged. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, chasing the taste of you that’s still clinging there.

“Panties,” you whisper, voice wrecked. “I need to move them.”

His gaze drops to where you’re soaked and swollen under the lavender cotton. He exhales hard through his nose, like the idea of waiting even five more seconds is torture, but he nods—jerky, impatient.

You hook your thumbs in the sides and tug them to the left, exposing yourself completely. The cool air hits you for half a second before his mouth is back—hot, open, no hesitation.

This time there’s nothing between you.

He groans so deep it vibrates through your whole body, tongue plunging flat against your entrance before sliding up to circle your clit with messy, greedy strokes. No more fabric to dull it. Just him—hungry, sloppy, relentless.

Your head falls back; one hand flies to your mouth to muffle the cry that rips out of you. The other stays fisted in his hair, not pushing him away anymore—just holding on while he eats like he’ll die if he stops.

“Fuck—Cho—” you sob, thighs clamping around his ears.

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t need to.

He just keeps going—faster, deeper, messier, until your whole body locks up and you come hard against his tongue, shaking, gasping his name like a prayer.

He doesn’t pull away even then. Just softens his licks, lapping slow and gentle through the aftershocks, drinking down every last drop like he’s making up for lost time.

When you finally slump back, boneless, he rests his cheek against your inner thigh, breathing hard, lips still glossy and swollen.

“Couldn’t wait,” he mumbles, voice hoarse. “Needed you too bad.”

You laugh weakly, fingers stroking through his hair. “Yeah,” you whisper, still catching your breath. “I noticed.”

He presses one last soft, open-mouthed kiss right over your sensitive clit—gentle this time, almost reverent—then looks up at you with those dark, devoted eyes.

“Still want more?”

Your heart stutters. “…Yeah.”

He smiles—small, boyish, a little smug and lowers his head again.

No panties in the way this time.

And he’s not in a hurry anymore.

Dividers - @/cafekitsune

an - this has been in my drafts for a while soo

[meowth999]

i have always felt a stronger connection to animals than to people. they’re way easier to talk to and i just hold so much love for them. i find myself talking to my cat, katsu, a lot as if she was human and could understand my words. love her lots <3

[meowmixdevourer]

okay but like honestly i’d like it if toji wrapped his ugly ass worm around my neck, inflated me with his baby batter and impregnated me with all 256 of his babies, which i will eventually give birth to and raise as my own, just for him to shove his dick so far up inside me i can feel it knocking the breath out of my lungs and rearranging my guts before he fills my cervix up with his creamy, thick white milk and gets me pregnant all over again

[fushi6oro]

it's that time of the month again, and 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄!𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 is excited.

the coppery taste invading his tastebuds, coating his tongue as it slides along your slit, drags a deep moan out of his throat. all of his senses go on overdrive whenever your period comes along, the constant scent driving him insane. he can't keep himself controlled near you. it's like dangling a piece of meat in front of a tiger.

your body lays on the bed, one leg bent and caging his head between your thighs. the curve of your spine pushes out your naked breasts, they spill to the sides with a soft bounciness. your period makes them so full. choso loves it.

"mhm, fuck," moans choso over your pussy lips. he doesn't dare to part his mouth from his favourite energy source. "so good, baby..."

you reply with a whiny sigh. your hands run and tangle themselves between his long hairstrands, pulling them, pushing his head closer to your core.

the way his nose rubs against your clit, while his tongue drinks up all your juices and blood with desperation, takes you closer to climax than you'd like to admit. but the sheer praise that man has for you doubles in size whenever you're menstruating. to him, that week is like a gift. he finds it so...convenient, that he woman he loves can feed him like this, without the need to hurt her (even though you like it when he bites you)

"oh, choso," you whine, an airy sound that drills into his brain and locks him in his actions. he knows to continue what he's doing. "yes, fuck, keep going..."

your pussy feels so sensitive. the mere brush of choso's fangs against your folds makes you jolt and drives shivers down your spine. small "oh!"s rip from your mouth before you can think of anything else. sometimes, when the feeling becomes too much, you try to kick him off. he doesn't like that at all, of course, so he holds the meat of your thighs even tighter and makes you take it. take the pleasure of his mouth on your cunt. choso knows you like it. he knows you deserve to feel this good.

and you think he deserves this, too. so you let him feed from you.

[touyxa]

flicking my bean right now omg HE HAS 4 PECS

[meowmixdevourer]

OHHHH MYY GOSH IM NUTTING SO HARD RIGHT NOW

[fushigurlfriend]

What about Husband! Megumi with a breeding kink? Like one day, he gets a bit of baby fever from seeing a couple with kids and he starts thinking about getting the reader pregnant? Btw I love your work it’s so good 😊

୨୧ husband megumi fushiguro with a breeding kink

you’ve been married to your husband megumi for almost five years now.

and to say you have a happy marriage is a understatement. he is literally the perfect husband, treating you like a queen every single day. he’s completely dedicated to showing you how much he loves you for the rest of his life. you couldn’t ask for a better husband, a better marriage, everything felt perfect.

to you, at least.

not to say he wasn’t satisfied with you, but he felt like something was missing. he’s been looking at cute baby videos for weeks, and can’t help but picture a family of his own, you being the mother of his kids. having a baby feels like the piece that’s missing, a cute bundle of joy that’s a perfect mix between the two of you. yeah, he could really see it now, his pretty wife’s belly swelling with life, carrying his baby. showing that you were his and he was yours in the most physical way past rings.

you could tell he had something on his mind while he was fucking you, a look of concentration plastered on his face, each thrust calculated. he wasn’t just making love to you, he was trying to get something accomplished. hes got your thighs pressed against your chest, his cock hitting deep strokes inside your gummy walls. he was already leaking so much precum at the thought of getting you pregnant, it looks like he already came. you were in a daze, pleasure washing over you with every thrust pressing into your sweet spot. your walls kept sucking him back in every time he pulled back, whining as his thrusts grew more insistent.

one hand left your thigh, coming down to press on your lower stomach, feeling the tip of his dick prodding around inside of you. megumi let out a loud groan, hips speeding up as he lost himself in your cunt and in his mind. “fuuckkk…you’d make such a pretty mommy.” he moaned mindlessly, chasing the pleasure as he continued to palm your stomach. the feeling of the cool metal of his ring against your bare skin and his words knocked you back to reality, blinking your eyes to focus up on him. “what..?” you asked between a moan, squirming slightly as he slowed down his thrusts.

“can we have a baby?” he asked bluntly, hips rocking into yours slowly as he began to massage the fat under his palm. “i wanna give you a baby…please pretty girl.” he almost whined, beginning to fucking his cock into you a little faster to emphasize his question.

well that explains why he looked so serious this whole time.

you clenched around him as his tip began to press into your cervix once again, the bed frame tapping against the wall breaking into your train of thought, you did want a family with your husband, and you’re not getting any younger either. “come on gorgeous, answer me. you want it? want me to fuck a baby in you?” you moaned loudly, eyes fluttering shut as you nodded, slurring out a series of ‘yes.’ and ‘want it so bad.’ thats all he needed to hear before pulling out slowly and slamming back into you.

megumi threw his head back in pleasure, pressing both of your thighs back to your chest as he began to fuck into you harder, now driven with the urge to breed you, to make you his in every way possible. “mmfuckk…yeah. gonna fuck a baby into you, breed you real good.” it was clear he was losing himself now, moaning mindlessly about filling you up with his cum, not stopping until you were for sure carrying his child. you clenched tightly around him, pleasure coursing through you at the thought of him getting you pregnant.

his cock slid through your slick walls easily, your arousal making every wet and messy as the sound of your pussy squelching mixed with your shared moans. he leaned down, lips chasing yours as his hand flew down to rub circles on your clit. he could feel his balls tightening with his release, eager to fill you to the brim with his cum. “come on sweetheart, cum for me so i can give you all my babies.” he moaned against your lips between kisses. you could feel the pleasure coiling tighter inside you, walls sucking him in deeper as you clung onto him, shaking as your orgasm washed over you, release soaking his hips and the sheets below you.

he moaned loudly, your walls spasming around him wildly as he continued to rub your clit. “that’s it…that’s it..good girl.” he cooed through your orgasm, hips losing rhythm as he felt his cock swelling even more from his impending release. he bit his lip, hips stuttering as he came, his cum filling you in short and rapid spurts. he nearly collapsed on top of you, fucking all the cum his body had to offer into you with a groan. his lips found purchase against yours once more, moaning breathlessly into your mouth as his hand raised to caress your stomach.

he praised you mindlessly for the next few minutes, his dick beginning to stir inside you once again as he lifted you up slowly. “come on, turn around.” he breathed, pulling out his hardening cock as he moved you into the next position he saw fit. you looked back at him in shock, surprised he was ready to go again so quickly. “megu-“ you cut yourself off with a moan as he slid back inside of you, his cum beginning to trickle down your thigh as he began to thrust inside you in a steady pace.

“not done yet, gotta make sure it takes.” his hands gripped your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts with a moan. he kept his word, he didn’t stop until he knew for sure that you were carrying his child. needless to say he was very excited to become a father, and to see his gorgeous wife pregnant with his kid.

[wave2satoru]

Nobody makes out with their eyes open.. with the sole exception of Satoru Gojo of course !

The Strongest is desperate to feel all of you.

You both started dating just recently. Within that relationship, you knew very well that you wouldn't be spending much time with him because of his busy schedule and with his sleep coming at 3 hours per day. Though, you and Satoru had made sure to somehow sneak yourselves in either of your missions with every single opportunity you both had despite being a grade lower than him.

Even with trying to slither in more time to hang-out together, which - according to Satoru - was still barely, the level of neediness sky-rocketed for the both of you, especially for him.

So, throughout the day, with every chance the Six Eyes got, he'd pull you to a secluded area, pin you against the wall - his hands wrapping around each inch of your body - practically merging you with his, and hungrily smashing his lips with yours, desperate and messy.

But to add a cherry on top, whenever his lips was on yours, he'd pull his blindfold down - overstimulation be damned - with those piercing bright blue eyes burning through yours (which were obviously closed,) like he was trying to pry them open with his irises. He loved the feeling of you everywhere, reaching every nook n' cranny inside his brain.

You felt the intense gaze of the Six eyes, of course you did. You never once opened your eyes every time you both made out - because, theoretically looking at those eyes with that proximity is like looking purposely at a flashlight, and you'd feel the even greater weight of his gaze like six Satorus' were looking at you all at the same time with barely any space between you seven.

Until now.

"Need you." he murmurs in your ear, quickly pulling you inside his office, locking it swiftly behind him. He pushes you against the bookshelf, a few books falling in suit from the force. You swear you heard him let out a low whine as he pulls your face towards his, both of your lips connecting like magnets as he forces his tongue inside your mouth.

Like its almost routine, he pulls his blindfold down, white hair flowing down as his eyes lock towards your eyelids - he lets out a desperate whine, overloading his senses with you.

But to his surprise, you break routine.

Opening your eyes out of curiosity, testing out your theory if whether or not you'd be blinded. Turns out, your theory was wrong, for now.. your eyes are stuck in a daze at his - his eyes widen, groaning at the sensation of your eyes as he presses his body against yours with more force, (?) sort of humping you.

Your lips can't keep up with his as he absolutely devours your mouth, his lips moving desperately more than ever. His hand slides down to hold yours, keeping your eyes locked on him.

He steals the air in your lungs - and with that - you tap on his shoulder to tell him you can no longer hold your breath. He sadly pulls apart, both of you heaving as you catch your breaths, forehead resting on yours.

After a minute, he lifts your held hands towards his face, changing the position of your fingers so your palm would be open, he makes you hold his cheek - his blue, doe eyes gazing up at you, white brows furrowed with his cheeks turning a harsher shade of pink, eyes pleading with you ; 'could we go again?'

guess making-out with your eyes open isn't that bad, at least, with him.

audio inspo from toru's official VA (yes, I know this is from 2021.)

yuina's comment : errr.. this has been on my head for a while. I did not proofread this, prolly lots of grammar mistakes. I would only make out eyes open with Gojo ONLY >:(

[aquasprings]

୨୧ choso’s just about as pathetic as a man can get. ୨୧

this realization comes to you after gojo begs you to give his friend a chance.

“please,” gojo says, and you scowl at him. “he’s nice. and i’m pretty sure he has a massive thing for you.”

“me?” you ask, incredulous. “i’ve never talked to him in my life.”

gojo sighs, flopping back onto your couch. “if i ever, like, loosely mention you in conversation, i swear he blushes.”

that’s how you end up in the living room of the frat friday night. loud, warm, the air slightly hazy.

choso right beside you on the couch, barely looking at you at first, all hunched shoulders and quiet glances, dark hair brushing his neck, dermal piercing catching the light every time he nervously shifts.

yeah, you think, he’s cute.

you end up sharing a joint, and that’s when you notice how he freezes every time your fingers brush his, how his breath hitches. it’s not subtle. not even a little. and when you lean a bit closer, knee nudging his, he almost drops it. across the room, gojo and the others are already smirking like they know exactly how this is going to go.

they don’t even try to hide it when they leave. gojo claps choso on the shoulder, says something low that makes his ears turn red, and suddenly it’s just the two of you on that worn-out couch, the music muffled now, the air heavier.

choso apologizes. for his friends, for himself.

you remember thinking how easy it is to get a reaction out of him. how all it takes is a hand on his chest, a soft question, and he’s unraveling right in front of you.

he nods at everything, says yes too quickly like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he hesitates. when he slips and said “please,” you know you have him.

“d’you like me, cho?” you murmur with glassy eyes, hand sliding up his collar and pressing against his nape, fingers deftly threading through inky hair.

“g—yes. yes, so much,” he exhales, voice shaking slightly as you pull him closer to you.

“wanna fuck?” you whisper, straddling yourself on his lap and relishing in the small, broken sound he makes when your glossed lips suckle at the junction of his neck.

“here? now?” his eyes bugger wide, hands squeezing your waist as your lips trail up, and up, and up, until you’re sliding your tongue in his mouth, bracketing your lips against his, swallowing his needy little moans.

he pants into your mouth as your hands pull at his hoodie and he shrugs it off wordlessly, cheeks flushed as your eyes trail down the milky expanse of his chest.

“pretty,” you murmur, and he whines, hands frozen at his sides when you slip your shorts off and toss them to the side.

“as much as i wanna feel your mouth on me,” you breathe, pupils blown, “i need to feel you in me. now. yeah?”

“y—yeah,” he shudders, hands fisting the couch beside him nervously as you tug his jeans and boxers down mid-thigh, his cock beading precum as it aches towards his stomach.

“i—ohmygod,” he slurs, whimper being pulled from his throat as you sink down on him in one shot. “please—”

“haven’t even done anything,” you say, hands locking onto his shoulders as you lift your hips slowly before dropping them back down, the motion making choso buck up desperately and moan into your neck.

“m not gonna last,” he whines pathetically, and you sneer, telling him to be good for you or you’ll stop.

you think it’s 30 seconds before he’s cumming, head falling back against the couch with a strangled sound.

he whimpers when you ask him which direction his bedroom’s in.

[xqce]

your revenge plan of spending all of husband!gojo’s money doesn’t work if he’s secretly into it. mdni ⟢

APPROVED. AUTHORIZED. SALE SUCCESSFUL.

you’ve completely abandoned reason when it comes to financial responsibility.

store after store, purchase after purchase. you walk around like the world itself could bend to the whims of the little rectangular piece of plastic you’re clutching in your hand. at this point, you’ve treated entire starbucks capacities to a drink, bought extravagant dresses you know you’ll never wear, and a hideous bag that was so ridiculously expensive you almost laughed when you saw the price tag.

each time you slide his card across the chip reader, the little burst of dopamine you feel at the replying green ding makes his impending bank statement worth it.

he deserves this, after all. if he could be so aloof as to let your dinner reservation slip his mind, then surely he wouldn't be keen enough to notice a few extra zeroes trailing every purchase, right?

“would you like a receipt?” the cashier asks politely.

you smile sweetly, “an e-receipt will do, thank you.”

--

back at the apartment, satoru’s laying back against the sectional, his phone rests loosely in his hand, thumb lazily flicking through thread after thread. “how to apologize to your wife,” “how to make it up after standing someone up,” “best apology gifts”— he’s opened so many tabs that at this point they’ve all started blending together into a pitiful reddit concoction within his brain.

he’s just about to click onto another subreddit chain about “apology flowers and their meanings,” when the first notification pops onto the top of his screen.

“a transaction in the amount of $108,923.67 has been detected on your card ending in 8686…”

“huh..” he scoffs, clicking into the message.

“...this is an automated alert for your awareness. no action is required if you recognize this activity. if you do not recognize this transaction, please contact your financial institution immediately using the number on the back of your card...”

a little inkling tells him that it wasn't exactly a thief attempting to drain his card. unless the thief in question was an infuriatingly sexy woman who gets off on raising his blood pressure. he laxly enters his face ID to authorize his access into the bank app. the purchases, he quickly realizes, are flowing in as fast as a live chat. his blue eyes sharpen slightly as the numbers begin to flow in.

oh.

oh, is this what you’re doing now?

10:53 AM POS purchase - stine goya                   -22,193.67

11:12 AM POS purchase - bottega veneta         -19,843.43

11:32 AM POS purchase - loro piana                   -28,931.41

11:38 AM POS purchase - starbucks                    -6,784.98

his lip quirks up at that last one, leave it up to his girl to manage to drop 7 racks at a coffee shop. more and more purchases are flowing in by the second, some are couple-hundred purchases at cafes, and others ten-grand payments to random ass brands he’s never even heard of. nonetheless, each one sends a little thrill of pleasure up his spine. 

the next warning text comes in, claiming that he's dropped over a million by this point. the message warns that the card has locked, requiring his verification to prove it wasn't stolen and to therefore unlock it. he clicks onto that message and verifies his identity anyway, because he knows this isn't fraud. no, he knows exactly who’s behind this, and what kind of husband would he be if he didn’t enable his wife’s unhealthy spending habits?

he leans his head back against the couch, exhaling through his nose as something warm, and dangerously pleased coils in his chest. much to your impending annoyance, each petty charge has served more to arouse him than irritate him.

11:55 AM POS purchase - balenciaga                  -47,165.90

“spend it all,” he murmurs to the screen, irregularly pleased for someone actively being robbed. “c’mon babe. don’t go soft on me now.”

his hands slowly inch lower into his sweatpants, freeing his cock from the stiff material. he's mindlessly refreshing the page every few seconds, praying for a new purchase statement to come up. every time a new proof of your financial recklessness updates, his dick twitches in his hand.

louis. throb. gucci. throb.

he leans his head back, his breath coming in short gasps as he brings himself closer to the edge. he can feel the heat building up in his core, the familiar tingle in his spine. he's close, so so close, and all it takes is one more purchase to send him over.

12:00 PM POS purchase - tiffany & co. -136,456.23

his back arches, a low intelligible groan along the lines of that’s my girl escaping his lips as he comes undone. ropes of his translucent cum string over his fist. he’s feeling the tension leave his body after the high, replaced by a warm, satisfied glow. he takes a moment to catch his breath, his eyes still on his phone, then he pulls up your contact.

satoru: hey princess satoru: don't forget to hit up the bank on the way home, they probably need a massage from all the stress you’ve put them through today;)

y/n: 🖕

1:19 PM POS purchase - mcdonalds -420,041.67 ↳ attached message: suck my balls haha

a/n: can u guys tell i had to search up 'expensive brands' to find half of this shit😭 alsooo this was inspired by this fic by @satorus-princess

tags: @s0ngofthebaddest @tartartagliaboo @kissysatoru @akumatizedmuffin @purityswan @fairygardenprincess @loowyinsixeyes @luvleyliaxx @arrozyfrijoles23 @lady-of-blossoms @gojofucker7 @skin2bone111 @lovelylovecin3monn @postresfresitas @softtashoney @dreamydaredevil @loowyinsixeyes @aryasasas @newpersonsameoldmistakez @iluvgetosuguru1 @anonymous123sm @ppnutz @mimuju @cherrys-wrld @ryosprincess @nnaa-bba @sugubbu

join here!

[toruuholic]

18+ snowed in with virgin loser nerd!choso . ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚

the snow is falling so thick outside that the whole world looks soft and quiet and endless white. classes canceled, midterms pushed back, roads closed, nothing to do but for you and your roommate to stay curled up in your bed with the heater humming and blankets everywhere. choso is shirtless on the bed because he got too warm from all the cuddling, black hair messy and falling into his eyes.

you’re straddling his lap in your tiny sleep cami and soft shorts, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. the thin strap keeps slipping off one shoulder and he keeps fixing it with gentle fingers like he can’t help touching you.

your mouths have been glued together for what feels like forever. slow, sweet kisses that turn messy and breathy, then slow again. his hands rest on your waist under the top, thumbs stroking your skin in little circles while your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, curling it around your finger or tugging mindlessly.

you rock your hips forward lazily, grinding against the obvious bulge in his sweatpants. nothing rushed, only warm friction to pass the time on a lazy snow day.

“mmph…” he makes the tiniest sound into your mouth when you roll your hips just right.

you smile against his lips and do it again, slower, dragging your clothed heat right over the hard line of him so you can hear that again.

he’s so warm. so solid underneath you. every little shift makes your sleep shorts ride up higher and you can feel how hard he is, how he twitches every time you press down.

his hands tighten on your waist.

“mmh, pretty girl…” he breathes, voice already getting that shaky edge. “you feel so good…”

you kiss him deeper, tongue brushing his, and grind down again. a little firmer this time, pressing yourself against the top-side of his length.

choso’s breath hitches and his hips jerk up without meaning to, chasing the pressure, and then—

his whole body stiffens.

a broken little whimper spills out of him as he cums right in his sweats, just like that. fast. sudden. messy. you can feel the warm wet spot blooming against your shorts almost instantly, making your shorts cling to him, and the way his cock pulses and throbs under the fabric while he trembles beneath you.

he pulls back from the kiss with a gasp, eyes wide, face burning bright red all the way to his ears.

“oh—shit—” he whispers, mortified. “i… i didn’t mean to—fuck, that was so fast— ‘m s-so sorry—”

you can’t help the soft giggle that bubbles up. he looks so embarrassed, so cute, lips still shiny from kissing and eyes all glassy.

“it’s okay, cho,” you murmur, leaning in to press little kisses along his jaw. “really. it’s cute.”

he groans, hiding his face in your neck, but his hands don’t let go of your waist. if anything, they pull you closer.

“so embarrassing…” he mumbles against your skin, voice all whiny and small. “i’m such a—”

the words are punched out of him in a gasp when you rock your hips again, gentle, feeling the sticky warmth between you.

“w-wait—sensitive—ah—”

but he doesn’t push you away.

instead he lets you keep moving, slow little rolls that drag over his spent cock. every grind makes him whimper, high and needy, hips twitching like he can’t decide if it’s too much or not enough.

“nnngh… baby, it’s—hah—it’s too much…” he whines, but his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing softly, encouraging you to keep going.

you kiss him again, swallowing the next whimper as you grind nice and slow.

his cock is still half-hard, twitching helplessly in the soaked fabric of his sweatpants. every drag of your clothed cunt over him makes him jolt and moan into your mouth so prettily, soft broken sounds that go straight between your legs.

“don’t stop—” he pants, voice cracking. “p-please, pretty—ah—don’t stop…”

well, how could you deny him when he asked so nicely?

you smile against his lips and keep rocking, letting the wet spot between you get messier, but you dont care. neither of you have any obligations today anyway. his thighs tremble underneath you, hips bucking. his fingers dig into your hips like he needs something to hold onto.

another helpless whine escapes him when you circle your hips just right.

“ah—fuck—gonna… g’na cum again if you keep doing that—”

you do it again.

he keens, head falling back against the pillows and back arching, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a pretty little ‘o’.

“baby… baby, please, ’m—nnn— ’s so much—”

but his hips keep lifting to meet yours, chasing the friction even as his whole body shakes with it. you lean down and kiss his neck, sucking softly on the spot that always makes him melt.

choso lets out the cutest broken whimper yet, high and desperate, fingers scrambling against your back under the cami.

“so cute like this, cho,” you whisper against his skin. “all whiny and needy… for me?”

he nods frantically, tears of overstimulation pricking at the corners of his eyes. “y-yeah… all yours… just—hah—keep going, please… feels so good—”

you grind down again, slow and sweet, feeling him throb and twitch underneath you. and even when he cums all over his sweats and boxers again, he still shows no intention of getting you off of him.

i miss winter these spring allergies make me wanna die

in my head this also takes place in the same universe as this drabble

[lemxnns]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then he was back to rambling. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

divider by @/uzmacchiato!

[ryoride]

ꮼ unsurprisingly, itadori is one romantic boyfriend

ᦸ fluffy little boyfriend!itadori hcs ⸝⸝ art : hinamie

boyfriend!itadori is a very affectionate man; he likes to hold hands, hug, share chaste kisses, cuddle & hold one or both of your thighs over his while sitting together—the pure intimacy of the touches feels so right.

boyfriend!itadori lets his girlfriend toy with his muscles whenever she wants, rubbing & over his back muscles and tracing shapes on his abs—his favorite, though, is when you want to mess with his biceps, whether you're nipping on them, kissing them, or napping on them.

boyfriend!itadori gets so happy whenever you wear something of his; it could be his sweats, PJs, a hoodie, a stolen shirt, literally anything, and he just finds it so adorable seeing the fabric swallow you up.

boyfriend!itadori is very eager to be a canvas for you, lying flat on his stomach to let you sketch out whatever your heart desires on his flesh. He's always quick to take photos to immortalize your work & show his friends what it looked like before fading.

boyfriend!itadori adores late nights when you're staying up just to talk each other's ears off—he could be gaming, cleaning, working out, or lying next to you, & no matter what, he's happily sitting there as you yap.

boyfriend!itadori has kept one flower from each bouquet he's given you, pressing each of them & slowly framing them together so you can keep a roadmap of your relationship; each frame holds a special time period for both of you.

boyfriend!itadori loves being your boyfriend; it awakened something in him that he never wants to sleep again.

[sixxels-deactivated20260420-dea]

asshole!sukuna and his soft spot for shy!girlfriend!reader ༊*·˚ (18+)

asshole!sukuna doesn’t fuck with a lot of people. i mean, when you’re a 6’5, 90 kg guy with bold tattoos littering your entire body, you’re not really trying to attract sociable people. still, the borderline loner had a few exceptions, his frat brothers, a select few professors, and you. 

you were the main exception. 

asshole!sukuna met you one day at a fundraising event his frat was hosting, a dollar for a slap. girls would line up in front of a long table and choose a guy to hit, then pay a small donation that went towards the rspca. you and your friends were keen to donate, put some of the guys who’d fucked with their feelings in their place, or however they’d phrased it. you were mostly there for the experience, not too in tune with the whole frat fuckboy lore your friends loved to gossip about. 

when you arrived, you started to feel really bad. all these guys’ cheeks were raw and red, and despite their cocky smiles, it just couldn’t be all that fun. when it came to your turn, you had to choose a guy, and your eyes drifted to asshole!sukuna. he was the biggest there, had only a slightly red cheek, and looked like he could take a hit. 

asshole!sukuna forced a smile when he saw you walk up to him, your head lowered as you shyly handed over a fiver. he accepted with a, “thanks, sweetheart. go ahead.” he leaned down to your level, bracing for impact, but all he felt was a light pat on his stinging cheek. 

“the fuck?” 

“oh, i’m sorry! i tried to go soft, i—” 

“you call that a slap? what, think i can’t handle it?” he scoffs. “slap me again, hun, harder. don’t waste your money.” he leans down again, looking you in the eye to challenge you. 

but again, all that comes is a light tap. 

“oh, for god— it’s a dollar for a slap, not a dollar for a fuckin’ cheek massage.” he huffs, looking over your expression with an irritated scowl, only to catch that hesitant little frown on your face. 

asshole!sukuna can’t help but crack a smile. he’d had about ten girls come and slap the fuck outta him today. they were all old flings desperate to get their get-back, but that was hardly the point. you were this new thing entirely, a soft thing that seemed sweet regardless of if he was notorious for being a cunt or not. 

“what’s y’ name, sweetheart?” 

asshole!sukuna decided he wanted to see you again after that. you’d caught his interest, which doesn’t happen often. he asks for your number. your instagram, your snapchat, everything. it was kinda pathetic how eager he was to get to know you, but you handed them all over anyway. your friends warn you after the fact that he’s definitely not good news, but you can’t help but want to see where this goes after only dating squares for most of your life. 

asshole!sukuna takes you on a date the very next day, and you were pleasantly surprised at how chivalrous he was. he pulled out your chair at the small hole-in-the-wall restaurant he took you to, he paid for everything, and even more surprisingly, made you feel comfortable. you talked for hours about everything and anything. 

you learned that asshole!sukuna had a lot of hobbies. he played guitar, drums, did a fair few building sketches in the art room with his friend geto when he had time, and had a real connection to film. all of which were things you found extremely attractive, and he could tell, because the next time you two went out he took you to his dorm and showed you his musical endeavors. 

“you’re like... super talented, it’s really attractive.” you smile gently, sitting at the foot of his bed, watching as he finishes up a love song he’d been learning for you. 

“yeah, y’ think so? gonna come to all my gigs when i’m a famous musician?” 

“will i get a backstage pass?” 

“oh, absolutely.” 

asshole!sukuna had officially swooned you after about five dates. he'd mustered up the courage to ask you to be his at that same restaurant he’d taken you to on that first date, and the rest was history. you and sukuna, the couple everyone of his mates envied due to how perfectly you two fit together. 

“how the hell did a guy like you bag a girl like her. yr' gonna destroy the poor thing.” geto teased while they were smoking up one night. 

asshole!sukuna could only reply with, “god, don’t you just hate jealous, hating ass motherfuckers?” 

asshole!sukuna loved to not so subtly brag about you to literally anyone he talked to. (which wasn’t many, but still.) 

“eugh, you’re buying lunch? my girlfriend made me food today, fucking loser.” he’d laugh at the dining hall when gojo and geto sat next to him with a greasy burger and fries. they just gave each other a look, smiled, and rolled their eyes. 

“hm? nah, can’t tonight. me and my girl are getting hot pot. have fun drinking your problems, tho.” he’d turn toji down, turning his nose up at the idea of bar hopping like he wasn’t the most frequent man along the strip a few months back. 

“a two man? i’m not bringing my girl around your little one and done situation, don’t ask me that shit again.” he’d laugh in jogo’s face, hating the idea of his precious baby being around a sleaze bag like him. 

asshole!sukuna always puts you first. his frat’s planning something big, another fundraising night where they really care about attendance, and he’s meant to be there early to help set up. but out of the blue, you’ll send him a text just to say that you've had a slightly shitty day, and boom, he’s suddenly nowhere to be found. his phone’s off, car’s out of the driveway, and he’s at your door with your favorite food and that pissed look, how dare the world have the nerve to bother you. 

asshole!sukuna likes to keep you very close to him when you’re out and about, with either an arm at your waist or his fingers intertwined with yours, he’s most comfortable when you’re right there where he can see you. that way, if anything were to happen, you’d be there for him to protect.

asshole!sukuna lets you get away with absolutely everything. 

“ryo, can i draw on you? like, draw on your back while we watch a show or something?” 

“sure, baby.” 

“ryooo, can i braid your hair?” 

“of course, love.” 

“hey, ryomen? could you drive me to my friend’s house? she lives on the other side of town, though.. it’s okay if you don’t want—” 

“no, no. let’s go, sweetness.” 

“ryo, you smell.” 

“shower with me then, baby.” 

with anyone else, asshole!sukuna would have either yelled or broken their jaw for even thinking they could ask him such questions. but with you? the princess gets what the princess wants or whatever the saying he made up in his head was.

asshole!sukuna fucking hates when people talk over you. it’s a common occurrence due to your soft-spoken nature, you’ll be in the middle of saying something, and someone’ll cut in with whatever thing they think is funnier or more worth listening to. sukuna never lets it slide. “she was talking, dickhead.” he’d scoff, shutting them up and earning a shy, thankful smile from you, as you continued with what you were saying, far more important than whatever that clown had to yap on about anyways. (in sukuna’s mind, at least.) 

asshole!sukuna spends a shit ton of money on you. you almost always go against the idea, but he just can’t help it... when he sees your eyes light up when you see something you like at the mall, he physically can’t resist. he’ll bookmark the product, then order it online to come to your apartment the next day. 

“ryo... why do i have another package?” you whine over the phone, earning nothing but a chuckle from the other end. 

“could tell you wanted it, so just enjoy it, sweet thing. you deserve all the fruits of my labour.” 

“you don’t work? isn’t it your parents’ mon—” 

“semantics. just enjoy, baby.” and he hangs up the phone, grabbing his keys to drive to your place and see how you like the new gift. he thinks it was a new dress? couldn’t be sure, it was hard keeping up with the millions of notifications from the post office. 

asshole!sukuna remembers everything about his girl and makes sure you’re always getting exactly what you want. if he’s out getting dinner before driving to your place, he’ll stop at five different places if that meant getting your order perfectly correct. local maccas has a broken ice cream machine? he’s driving to the next location to try his luck there. one place doesn’t have the kind of noodles you like? he’s making his way to the closest chinese place to see if they do. he is the embodiment of “if he wanted to, he would,” and it’s all worth it seeing your face light up when he holds up the paper bag with a smile. 

“your favourite.” 

“oh my god? this is the place out of the city? how did you—” 

“don’t worry about it, angel.” 

and that was another thing, ashole!sukuna  didn’t let you worry about anything. your place felt too messy? he was over there turning on mlp equestria girls and helping you clean. you wanted a home cooked meal? he’s at the store buying the ingredients. you needed help with an assignment? he’s pushed back his own work to sit down and help you smash them out. 

asshole!sukuna is so overly territorial when it comes to functions. he doesn’t know, there’s just something about people drunk and horny all around you that ticks him off. he’ll always have you either sat next to or on his lap at frat parties. you stick to him regardless, but he has to make it obvious to all the fuckwits blatantly staring at you that you are indeed, his. 

if they don’t get the hint the first time and are still gawking after his mild pda, asshole!sukuna would up the ante. he’ll take you off to some hallway or, if the guys are being particularly sleazy, he’ll kiss you right there. his lips trailling up and down your neck while he stares them dead in the eye, challenging them to look away. 

“ryo... people are looking!” you whisper nervously. 

“let them, sweetheart. you’re too pretty not to stare at.” he grins against your neck, sucking and biting at your soft skin. 

by that point, they always look off. whether that be due to his death glare or the realisation that you’re not going anywhere anytime soon was beside the point. 

asshole!sukuna gets embarrassingly hard at the smallest little things with you. you’ll just be sitting on the couch together and you’ll start scratching his back or head, boom, hard. when you’re sitting next to him in the library and you’re biting your pen, boom, hard. even when you’re just laying in bed, tired from the day, he’ll lay next to you and just sigh. 

“how the fuck do you just look like that. you make it so hard to keep my shit to myself.” he groans as his arms snake around your waist. 

“jeez, i can feel that thing poking into my back... what did i do now?” you smile sleepily. 

“i wish i knew. seems like one look at you and i pop a boner.” he admits, a little embarrassed. 

“can i help you out?” 

asshole!sukuna loved how willing you were to service him, but preferred it the opposite way round. sukuna would spend hours between your pretty thighs if he could, sloppily kissing and sucking at your cunt with dazed eyes, loving nothing more than the pretty moans and groans he could pull from your throat. 

“fuck yeah, y’ like that, baby? you like my tongue, hm?” he’d tease with his mouth full, pumping two fingers in and out of your soaked pussy as he dragged you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

asshole!sukuna knew how wet his filthy words could get you, and he abused that knowledge each and every time he needed you prepped and ready for him. 

“y’ think you can take me, baby, yeah? think you can take this fat cock?” he’d taunt, slapping the thick head against your cunt as your slick coated the pink, glossy skin. “fuckkkk, pretty pussy’s beggin’ t’ get drilled.” 

“what’s that? you need me? well, isn’t that fuckin’ cute. beg a little more and maybe i’ll give you what you want.” 

“be a good girl n’ say please and it’s all yours, angel.” 

asshole!sukuna was massive, but you always took him so well. “you can do it, baby. i know you can.” he’d coo in your ear, lining up the monster of a thing. 

“one, two, fuckkk.” 

asshole!sukuna saw stars every time he’d push in, letting go of a long, pornographic moan as he began to thrust slowly in and out of your tight entrance. the look on your face as your eyes rolled back in pleasure made coming in less than a minute extremely hard, but the intense need to make you finish first overrode any sort of selfish desire to fill you up to the brim in the first few minutes. 

asshole!sukuna loved missionary the most because he could see your pretty face. he enjoyed a bunch of freaked-out positions, but nothing could beat watching your pupils dilate and your lips quiver the second you finally came, his name on your tongue as you let go of the tension building in your tummy. 

“y’ gonna come, baby? y’ gonna come on this cock?” he’d grunt, slamming his member deeper and deeper the louder your cries got, faster and faster until— “fuck, ryo! m’ cumming!” you’d stutter, your insides spasming on his cock, drawing out his own orgasm with one final pound, filling you up with hot ropes of his seed. 

asshole!sukuna was the king of aftercare. words that were filthy before, now soft and caring. 

“you okay, baby? did i go too hard on ya?” he’d ask through tired pants, standing to grab the wet wipes in the side drawer to wash your messy parts off. 

“you want me to order something? anything you want, love. i’ll get you anything and everything.” 

“c’mon, sweetheart. drink some water.” 

asshole!sukuna never made you feel small after intimacy, in fact, sometimes you enjoyed the aftermath more than the mindblowing sex. 

“m’ okay, ryo. just wanna cuddle.” you’d admit shyly, reaching for him to come back to bed. 

his eyes would soften and he’d plop down next to you, pulling you into his lap. “anything for you, angel.” 

sure, sukuna was an asshole, but he couldn't even dream of mistreating you, his biggest exception.

“love you, baby.” 

“love you too, ryo.” 

a/n: i wrote this semi off my face so excuse any bad word or structural choices 💘

© 2026 sixxels. All work belongs to @sixxels Do NOT repost, modify, translate to another language, or plagiarise in any way on ANY platform.