Satoru is verrrry grateful for thin walls [18+ mdni]
Satoru leaned against the dorm wall, though it felt so painfully thin he feared he’d fall right through it.
Well, he actually might with the way he’s feverishly pressed up against it—listening tentatively for the next moan to leave your plush lips.
Instead of traditional, stuffy college dorms, the dorms at Jujutsu Technical College are exclusively single rooms. so, while Satoru couldn’t get a room with his best friend, he decided the next best thing was to room right next to him.
However, that meant he had to hear your sloppy little whimpers through the paper-thin walls, forced to listen to you being ruined by his best friend instead of him every day. But maybe—just maybe—Satoru liked it a little.
The muffled thump thump thump of the cheap, but sturdy, wooden headboard banging on the wall echoed throughout Satoru’s dorm. “f-fuck! Sugu—ye-yeah .. nghh—“
God. Do you have any idea what you do to him?
He could imagine you now—back locked in a deeeeep arch, Suguru’s hand fiercely gripping your hip while his other hand rested against your scalp, fingers tangled in your hair to hold you right where he wanted.
Satoru knows it’s utterly pathetic—the way he reaches into his sweatpants and pulls his twitching cock from his cum-stained boxers at the sound of his best friend fucking you.
He knows he shouldn’t. He really, really should stop. But when he catches a thick vein on his shaft, making him let out a moan that only someone who was completely ruined could make, he realizes he can’t stop. Everything is so slick and wet, it’s driving him crazy.
“Yeah—look at how good your sloppy—f-fuck! hole is taking me, baby.” Suguru grunts through gritted teeth—his length rutting against your cunt after your nth orgasm, leaving a creamy ring of your combined messes around his base.
Satoru grips his cock a little tighter, swiping the pre-cum that’s leaked out of his blushed tip with his thumb. A slew of muffled “ah—ah—ah”s come from your drool soaked lips, permeating the walls.
Satoru can’t help but whine into his palm, trying to keep it down as much as humanly possible. His eyes flutter as he fucks his fist faster—hips violently bucking while he tries to match the rhythm of the bed’s incessant creaking.
“Holy f-fuuckk—“ he murmured. If anyone saw him like this, god, he wouldn't even know what to say. How mortifying. His patterned sleep pants lay forgotten on the floor, leaving his boxers to squeeze against his tensed thighs.
“fuuckk — keep fucking me th-at! ngh — fuck, ‘toru!”
…
Unbelievable.
A strangled noise left Satoru’s mouth as he shot pale sticky strands that ran down his balled fist. he spread his fingers looking at the mess he made, face scrunching knowing it’ll be annoying to clean. Still, it wasn’t quite as annoying as his best friend and his girl.
What assholes.
Suguru collapses on top of you, adoring the way you pepper kisses on his shoulders and neck, each one a silent “thank you.”
You start to giggle. “Sugu, you think he heard it?” you whisper breathlessly.
Suguru props himself up, allowing you to see the proud smirk painted on his face. “Well, do you hear him whining anymore?”
Both of your gazes flick toward the wall behind the bed, staring.
Silence.
While you can’t hear anything, you imagine Satoru’s flushed face as he tries to clean his mess as quickly as possible, desperately trying to slow his breathing.
Your imagination is nearly spot on—except you’re missing the slight, knowing grin on his face as he thinks about how he gets to do it all over again tomorrow.
a/n: this is my first fic i’m gonna throw up on everyone ok. comment and praise me if you like it
Synopsis. On campus? Choso Kamo’s the sweet, shy nerd you share film class with - the one who can barely meet your eyes without blushing. Online? Choso Kamo is really @cursed(your)wombz—the #1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends with 820k followers to see his…nine inches. And he might just be looking for a partner.
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, streamer!Choso, (sort of) B́J Alex AU, cámboy!Choso, college AU, he’s a nerd, film nerd!Choso, secret identities, masks, píercings (ears, tóngue, D), tattoos, chat, streaming, you’re a fan, identity reveal, exhíbitíonism, oraI (fem rec.), again PlERCINGS, tongue f, spítting, p sIapping, p talking, letting the viewers choose, fíngering with rings, overstím, dúmbifícation, Jacob’s Ladder, rough s, fiIthy s, he’s sIightly mean, tummy buIges, making it fit, pressing down, talking you through it, cIit pinching, pússydrúnk Choso, matíng presses, chokíng, manhandIing, mocking, sIight níppIe stim, creampíes, chat Iove you, cúmpIay, getting together, Phantom of the Opera references, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 14.9k
A/N. Hehehehehe-
Sunday was the night you’d found him; sprawled out on your bed and thumbing through the Internet. Some glitzy pop song you couldn’t name blasted from your speakers, and the room was saturated in the tingly excitement of having speedy Wi-Fi, no assignments, and the night to yourself. LED lights pink.
You’re checking some of your messages - doling out a few hearts, a few reposts - when that bell-shaped button bursts in blue. A new notification.
@cursed(your)wombz liked your repost.
It was on a photograph of the Sun—big and yellow, seemingly melting over a grey horizon.
Which was perfectly ordinary- this was the Internet, after all. And though your list of followers was modest, of course you’d interact with a stranger here and there.
The problem was in the way the notification disappeared as soon as it came.
An…accident maybe? This person had liked and unliked your repost. And without a second thought, you’re typing their username into the search bar.
And clicking on their profile.
@cursed(your)wombz huh?
He had a pitch-black profile picture and a layout with nothing of note, a banner as equally colorless and unnotable, and a simple bio stating:
I know what you want…
- C.
And beneath that was a link.
It stood out stark against the black background. You don’t click on it, of course- for fear of being something malicious, you’re avoiding it like you’d avoid a minefield.
You’ve already heard one too many horror stories on here about such things. One click and you’d find your address posted somewhere. Instead, your eyes drop to the number of followers he had…and your eyebrows are immediately shooting up.
0 Following.
581k Followers.
Now that makes you blink.
Okay- alright, maybe it wasn’t the most astounding number you’ve ever seen throughout your expansive time on the Internet - but it was still niche celebrity-status. Especially on this app. Especially to be stalking an account like yours…where all you did was repost the stray picture of a pretty landscape or yell into the aether about your missing assignments for your friends to comment on.
Now that was a little strange.
And so you’re scrolling down.
And you never quite know what you’re in for whenever you enter the realm of a person’s account—fanfiction with tags you never knew existed, one part of an argument on social media that really shouldn’t exist, mpreg.
Which was all fine and dandy to be quite honest- you just never expect to be met with the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on.
The first picture you’re seeing- pinned.
Posted just an hour ago. It’s a mirror selfie taken at a low angle; of a man with his body angled towards the lens and his phone covering his face. In nothing but a towel. With nothing but his chiselled body. His beefy arms flexed as he takes the picture, biceps rippled with a few veins—though still lean and almost smooth to the touch. Pierced nipples. Defined abs. Your eyes linger on the sparse dusting of dark hair leading below, below, below his fluffy white towel…
The picture cuts off just a few inches past his navel. You know because you’re enlarging it.
The photo is almost vampiric in nature.
Somehow.
Dimly-lit. Beautiful—he clearly knew his angles and lighting. It’s slightly blurry and you can’t make out much of the man’s features - nothing more than the slender length of his fingers, silver rings, and the outline of his dark (perhaps brown?) hair. Touching his shoulders. From just above the hem of his towel, the amorphous blur of a tattoo snakes down his left v-line - and no matter how much you’re zooming in, you can’t quite figure out what it is.
Something twists at the pit of your stomach as you’re latching your eyes onto the very obvious bulge he was sporting through the towel - very.
The flash created a shadow of his lengthy cock—oh. Hanging between thick thighs, heavy and needy. And it also illuminated the slight dampness clinging onto his body; perhaps he’d just gotten out of the shower, or was about to take on after a workout.
Whichever scenario it was, both made your thighs clench- fuck.
Fingers slightly shaky, you’re exiting out of the picture and scrolling down for more.
The next post is a video seemingly taken from the very same instance: it was from the point of view of the beautiful man. Facing downwards, as he zoomed the camera in on his bulge and ran one vein-covered, ringed hand down his abs- down his pelvis- down to that throbbing erection and squeezed himself through his towel.
And then through your speakers echoes out the most pornographic moan.
Thank goodness your dorm had thick walls.
And that’s when you decide that you’ve seen enough.
Not enough as in enough enough to block this strange man and move on with your life- of course, not. As quickly as your fingers would possibly let you, you’re exiting out of the video and scrolling up to a bio that seemed to have more to hide than the first time you read through it.
The link stands mockingly stark - almost winking at you - against the dark background. You think you know what it is.
And you click on it.
Suddenly, your laptop screen’s flooding with a gaudy pink color. A loading circle swivels in the middle of it for a few seconds, before you’re met with a logo in swooping, slanted black script: C4mBoyfriends. Better than that boy in your dms.
Rapidly, you’re opening up a new tab and typing in the name.
“C4mBoyfriends is an adult streaming platform that hosts webcam performers that choose to label themselves as male. Here they can stream live video, post photographs, and interact on forums with a wide array of paying viewers—for a range of content catering to specific niches or sexual roleplays. C4mBoyfriends, since its recent launch, has shot up in the industry as one of the most-visited adult sites and the safest for its performers. All cuts go to the performers themselves and the site runs on separate donations from its audience.”
Ah- you’d guessed right.
Excitement burbles at the pit of your stomach for a few seconds. You’re clicking back onto the tab with the pink logo, and finding that it’d stopped loading.
It was in the layout of a streaming device, with static images of ongoing streams on one side of the platform, and different pages listed out on top. But what took up the majority of your screen was the vision of the very same man from before- from the mirror selfie, from the video.
This time, it was a stream.
@cursed(your)wombz is streaming—#1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends [101 week streak]. [Only solo]. Your internet boyfriend <3
0 Subscribed.
820k Subscribers.
455k Currently watching.
This time, he had his towel lifted up and his hands fisted around his fat cock.
Perfectly angled.
Your jaw drops. He was about eight- maybe more inches, though you weren’t in the state to count. Way too entranced by the way his veiny, ring-decorated hands were wrapped around his cock. Large. He was just so loooong and standing tall between wide-spread legs, shiverin’ every time he’s gliding his hand up and down. Up and down.
Again and again.
Getting faster by the second before he arches-
The edge of his thumb’s reaching for his ruby-red crown—then smearing the glistening liquid that just kept on foaming from the top. He lathers it upon his palm and drags it down his hot erection, making every inch gleam underneath the off-camera lighting.
You’re clicking on a button to increase your volume.
And just in time, too, because then he snakes his left hand down and squeezes his heavy balls- letting out a botched groan that leaves your shorts oh-so-wet.
Deep and guttural; there’s a slight quiver in them as he whispers. “F-fuck.” Just so full and sensitive—the man’s head tips backwards and his hips buck off the cushioned chair. Sluttily. As though he was fucking something invisible. It’s creaking ever-so-slightly as he settles back down, composing himself just a little bit before he starts cumming.
Pearly white droplets of cum.
Beading from the very top of his shaft - where he was the most pink n’ angry - shaking as he empties out. Globs of it start to glide down his length, and a few more collect where his silver Prince Albert’s piercing was positioned right beneath his mushroomy tip.
You’re just letting your eyes linger upon that little heap of satiny sap, when the man thumbs upwards and smears that, too. Such a mess.
And you think that might be all- but then he’s reaching his non-dominant hand upwards and pressing down on his frothing cockhead. Stopping himself from cumming - and as he leans to the side, you swear you’re glimpsing the twinkle of even more piercings on the upper side of his shaft. Was that…a Jacob’s ladder?
You’re rendered so damn speechless that you almost don’t register him speaking- “Awwww, did my pretty sluts wanna watch me cum?”
A shiver runs down your spine at the hitched tone of his voice- drunk on lust. He’s slightly slurring. So alluring, you almost catch yourself nodding.
“Well, too bad.” The man meanly snickers, before he’s suddenly reaching out with his non-dominant hand and angling it higher. The screen shifts to display that very same mouth-watering body from the picture—though, this time with the addition of a black-and-white mask that covered his features from forehead to his sharp jawline.
The only opening in it was a concave cutout for his mouth - almost reminiscent of a Phantom of the Opera mask. In the background was a clearly expensive bedroom of a clearly expensive home - far different from your single dorm - an artwork that you couldn’t name on the wall behind him. Something like a photograph or a portrait. Something about it was so precise- so cinematic. Like watching a movie scene. He continues, “Because you know why? You don’t deserve it.”
There’s a flurry of comments on one side of the screen, so fast that you wonder how he reads it.
“Didn’t I tell you to spam me with your nastiest stories in the chat?” He asks, and from beneath his mask you catch the outline of dark eyes shifting down those hurried words. Those needy comments. “None of you are nasty enough, so none of you get to see me cum…”
You’re tearing your eyes off of him to peruse what they were saying.
@girrrrrrrrrrth: nuuuuuu please, curse! i’ll get on my knees!!
@vampzo333: me too ME TOO
@likezmenpregnant: My story about the body pillow wasn’t nasty enough? TT
@CCpervnextdoor: AWWWW I’m begging~
@Curse’swifey: I’LL PAY YOU EXTRA PLEASEEEEEEE
@Curse’swifey donated 500 cherries.
“Tch- what a desperate bunch. Just fucking look at yourselves…” And though his words weren’t in the least bit nice, you couldn’t deny just how badly he made your cunt twinge.
Curse…that’s what his name was, huh?
You’re squeezing your thighs together- your sleep shorts were definitely soaked.
Curse rolls out the kinks in his neck just a little, and stares down at the camera with a crooked grin. “But that’s not gonna be enough. I said to be nasty- so be nasty.” The active chat becomes nothing but a blur once more: pleas, donations, stories half-typed in their urgency. “And in return I’ll moan whatever name you want me to moan when I cum.”
Before you know it, you’re opening up the sign-up page in a new tab.
Keeping Curse’s livestream playing in the background as you zip through your details. You’re picking out a username for yourself: Ietsmakeamovie and hastily going back to the ongoing stream with your newfound handle. Was it too obvious to make it the same username as your other account? The one that he had stalked?
Fuck- you’re too wound up to think of something else at this point. You decide that you’ll change it later…
Luckily, Curse’s stream didn’t have a paying threshold before you could comment. And you’re jittery with excitement as you pull the laptop closer to yourself and start typing out something—hitting send before you could overthink it.
@Ietsmakeamovie: Seeing you is the first time I’ve gotten this wet.
Curse’s eyes drift down the chat, and he seems to latch onto something. Eyes widening just a fraction.
“The first time?”
Fuck.
You’re feeling a jolt at the way he addresses you - never expecting him to pick out that comment amongst tens of thousands of others that were uttering even filthier things. Curse leans in and speaks with his deep tone, “Those other boys didn’t know how to treat a perfect pussy like yours, huh? This is why they call me the Internet boyfriend, baby.”
@Ietsmakeamovie: Yeah.
@Ietsmakeamovie: Fuck, you’re so hot.
@Ietsmakeamovie: I don’t even wanna look away to touch myself.
You feel embarrassed typing it all out - but you console yourself with the notion that no one here knows who you are. And you don’t know anyone here, either.
Curse leans back and starts pumping his cock even harder—taking his left hand off the drivelling top. His milky-white precum is frenzied n’ sticks to his hand like glue, and the chat grows more and more excited as Curse’s actions do the same.
“That’s alright, baby, you don’t have to finger yourself.” He chuckles, eyes locked on the comments. “I’d be doing that for you if I was there.”
@Ietsmakeamovie: Wish you were. You’d reach so much deeper.
@Ietsmakeamovie donated 1000 cherries.
“Fuh-fuck—” He hisses, head throwing back in his chair. You take the time to admire the lines of his prominent Adam’s apple - the way it bobs every time he’s taking a shaky swallow. “No need to donate or anything, baby, just keep- ngh, talking t’me like this and that’s enough…”
@0003h0lesforCurse: holy shit. i’ve never seen him like this.
@CCpervnextdoor: Needy Curse I like it~
@bewbsRlife: KEEP GOING OP KEEP GOING!!
You giggle to yourself.
@Ietsmakeamovie: Enough to make you cum, Curse?
“Greedy, greedy girl…” Through the slightest gaps in his mask you’re catching the way his nose crinkles in amusement. A wolfish smile. “S’that what you all want?”
The chat explodes in agreement.
He cocks his head, “Movie?”
Was that your new nickname now? Hastily, you reply-
@Ietsmakeamovie: Mhm.
“Well then…” He grins, toned body arching off the chair. “Get ready for a show—” Darkened gaze narrowing at the comments, “And you better not take your eyes off of me for a single second- hump your damn pillows if you have to. I don’t care.”
Quickly grabbing your own puffy pillow, you’re stuffing it between your legs.
Right as Curse lets his head loll backwards- and his cum drizzles out of his cock. He’s been edging the poor viewers and overstimulatin’ himself for so fucking long now—all it takes is a few pumps to let the cascade of white coat his hands and his rings. Just the slightest bit of silver peaking through.
Hard and fast.
The man’s cockhead flushes even redder as he drags his high out deliciously. Every burst of dopamine. Every heaving pant. Every pretty moan escaping him.
It seems to be ramming into him in waves- gooey ribbons of seed coat his digits. Getting smeared like a gloss across eeeeevery single inch, ridge, and vein—and since Curse’s pace was something furious, a few globs of cum splatter across the towel and onto his thighs. A mess that he’s seeming to love.
Because in the next few seconds, he’s wrung out just the final bits of pleasure in him- and is raising his cum-coated fingers up to his mouth and sucking. Staring straight into the camera lens as he does so.
You’re watching slack-jawed as those long, lacquered digits disappear between his lips. Finishin’ them off squeaky clean and letting his head tip to the side.
He mouths, “Movie—”
Part of your username.
Though you hadn’t asked for him to moan your name, as he’d promised to do to one of the viewers had they been nasty enough. And this special treatment…
Maybe he did it to every new viewer. Maybe he just liked how much you complimented him- though everyone else did, too. Either way, it’s perhaps what sets off the bursts of electricity between your legs—and soon enough you’re hurtling into a high you hadn’t even realized had been building up and up and up.
Your lashes flutter shut as the orgasm overtakes you.
Hips ruttin’ away into the plushness of your pillow- you wonder just how much better riding him would be…
And that’s setting off a whole new layer of dopamine at your core, your cunt quiverin’ as white-hot pleasure makes your heartbeat throb in your ears. Chest pounding. Breaths heavy.
By the time you’ve finished pushing through your high, you’re coming to find that Curse had somewhat cleaned himself up with the towel and was bantering back n’ forth with the chat. He rests his head on one hand and sweeps his eyes down the usernames, “What happened to dear Movie, huh?” Curse pretends to pout. “The first stream wasn’t too much for her, right?”
@girrrrrrrrrrth: kekekeke you’re too freaky, curse!!
@CCpervnextdoor: So dirty~
@daddytoeknee: Must thank Movie for the show though…
Urgently, you’re gathering yourself and tapping a few buttons on-screen.
@Ietsmakeamovie subscribed to @cursed(your)wombz.
@Ietsmakeamovie donated 2500 cherries.
@Ietsmakeamovie: It’d never be too much.
“Ahhh, there you are.” Such a beautiful smile smears across his face, and Curse’s leaning in to take a closer look at the comments. “And thank you for subscribing, same time tomorrow?”
You’re unsure whether that was directed at you or everyone viewing- but you’re chiming in agreement alongside the rest of the comments. And Curse reads through them, lingering for just a little while longer before he grins.
“Heh- bye, sluts.”
And he covers the camera, the stream cuts off.
Yet your heart still thunders.
Ignoring the time at the bottom of your laptop screen, you’re then clicking on his profile and scrolling through what other videos he had…
.
.
.
It was your fault that you kept dozing off.
Honestly.
You should have known better- and you know that you should’ve known better…but you couldn’t help yourself. After Curse’s initial stream, you spent some time browsing through the numerous photographs and short clips that he’d posted; there were even some saved streams that were each dirtier than the last—each with his attractive mask and his even more attractive voice, his sensual cock getting pumped over and over for the audiences.
And so you’d left a few comments, a few hearts.
Throughout all of them, you made the peculiar discovery that they were all more high-quality than the last. The standard of being the #1 on the site, you guess. But the lighting and angles were all just so perfect…
You’d watched them for just a little while- at least, what you’d thought was a little while. Because by the time you’re realizing that your laptop battery was dying, and your eyes were tired, you’re turning your head in the direction of the dorm windows and- fuck.
Why was the Sun coming up?
And so you’d rushed to get at least half an hour of sleep before you had to get up for your 8AM lecture.
Professor Yaga taught Film 101 as though he was trying to scare everyone off it. Rigorous coursework and never-altered deadlines. Though you yourself wouldn’t consider him an unreasonable man, it was impertinent to be punctual and alert in his classes - and right now, you were feeling neither of those.
By the grace of the universe, you’re somehow managing to stumble into class just two minutes after it starts. It’s not enough to rouse Yaga’s anger - and either way, you had made a name for yourself as one of his most avid students - though it does get you a sternly raised brow as you apologize and take the nearest open seat.
Just-so-happening to be in the very last row.
At the very forgotten corner.
Right beside who you knew to be Yaga’s actually most avid student—Choso Kamo.
Had it been a race between the two of you - perhaps between the entire department - Choso would have finished five times before anyone’s even stepping past the finish line. You would’ve gotten second. And that wasn’t to diminish your abilities in any way - you’d long since proven yourself to be one of the best students this course had even seen - it’s just…Choso was a film nerd through and through.
If there was anyone that could live up to such a title, then it was him.
Choso lived, slept, and breathed film and television. He could name any television show around the world with just a single frame, and most he could recite line-for-line. Oh, that? He learned Korean just to immerse himself in that scene in Parasite. That scene? It was from the 1957 Sri Lankan film Amba Yahaluwo, by the way did you know that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was filmed there, too?
Knitted vest. Hair in two messy space buns.
Clunky glasses rested atop his nosebridge, and dark bangs covering most of his vision, you’d often see him tottering around campus with a column of books that was damn-near taller than him. And despite his towering demeanour - from your mental counting, Choso was around 6’2 or more - around most of the student body, he was the type that couldn’t meet your eyes no matter how many classes you shared with him.
Even now, as you seated right next to him and smiled- Choso softly yelps and turns away from.
You don’t take it personally, of course, as he was simply the shy type. And by the flush that rises to his high cheekbones, you know he - at the very least - doesn’t dislike you.
Situating yourself, you’re opening your bag and pulling out your laptop. Opening it- fuck.
The briefest flash of one of Curses’s previous streams—where he had his cock in his hands and his face contorted mid-ecstasy flashes across your screen. And you can’t slam your laptop shut fast enough- cracking it just the slightest bit to exit out of the numerous tabs, fingers nothing but a blur. Thank fuck your volume hadn’t been set on high.
Head ducked, you’re looking out from the corner of your eye to check whether Choso had seen anything.
But if he did, he shows no indication.
Only keeping his back ramrod straight- his gaze ahead- his flush fiery as he listens to whatever Yaga was saying.
And so you think you’re in the clear…for now…
Opening your laptop up once more, you’re logging onto your lecture platforms and attempting to forget about last night. Which was difficult when that smile upon Curse’s face, just beneath his mask - was the only thing running through your mind.
And before you know it, you’d been staring blankly at your screen for a few seconds—before Choso inches in just a centimeter closer. Unwilling to let himself take up even more space. He keeps his eyes trained ahead and his voice - fuck, you’d never heard his voice before but it was just so deep and measured, something you wouldn’t have expected out of him - low.
Whispering to you, “H-he’s on Chapter 18 of Stone Butch Blues, we’re about to write a screenplay for the zoo scene.”
“Ah…” You don’t know whether you’re more surprised at the timbre of his voice or the way he managed a proper sentence out to you. All your previous attempts at conversation throughout the semester had been futile—and you’d long resigned yourself to the idea that he was too nervous to ever talk to you. “Th-thank you.”
He doesn’t answer but nods in shy acknowledgement.
And as you’re opening up your file, you bask in the realization that Choso Kamo was actually hot underneath those glasses. If only you could see his features further…
Maybe you’re being a little delirious. Your eyes feel heavy.
Heavy.
Heavier.
Tap-tap-tap.
A shake.
Tap-tap-tap-tap.
A warm hand on your shoulder, by the time you’re opening your eyes- you’re looking up into even warmer, molten chocolate-colored ones. They were framed by fawny eyelashes and thick glasses that made his shy gaze seem ever-so-slightly amplified.
You think you’re stunned for a few seconds before Choso speaks, “U-um…class is over.”
“Oh.” That makes you dart your head up and look around, noticing that most of the students had filtered in or were in the process of already doing so. “Oh, shit-”
You’d seriously slept through all that?
And Yaga had left you alive?!
No, you weren’t going to question this act of mercy—thank goodness for the last row, because he likely hadn’t been able to see you. Shooting upright, you’re grabbing all your things and hoping you hadn’t snored next to the sweet boy - “Thank you so much for waking me.” You’re turning towards him and saying, earnestness seeping into your tone. “Knowing me, I would’ve slept right through till next class. Might actually have been more convenient.”
He startles into a laugh then raises a hand up to his mouth and quietens himself down, “It’s alright.” You’re staring closely at the little bells of laughter, and he turns his eyes downwards. Bashfully admitting, “Happens to me too, whenever I stay up um- studying. Long night?”
You sigh, “You could say that…” Not a long night studying, but…
And as the conversation quietens down and Choso worries down on his bottom lip, you’re hiking your backpack up on your shoulders and saying. “Well, I guess I should be going then. Catch up on the recordings of the lecture and everything-” Turning, “See you ‘round—and thanks again.”
You make all of five steps before Choso finally gathers up the courage to call out-
“Wait—!”
Confused, you’re facing him once more. “Yes?”
And his hand was out, his fingers were slightly trembling. He was mouthing out the words as though still debating whether to speak them into existence - whether he was capable of. “I…we-” Eventually mustering up the courage once you give a reassuring nod, “When will we meet up?”
That makes you pause.
Was he…
“F-for the assignment.” Choso clarifies, a flush rising to his cheeks as he likely realizes he should’ve led with that. “Professor Yaga’s mid-semester project he always does…”
Ah—you’re clapping a palm on your forehead. How could you have forgotten? Yaga had announced at the start of the semester that about halfway through, the class would be paired up or put into groups to work on a collaborative project that contributed to about 50% of your grade. This semester, it was to write a full-length movie screenplay for a book or musical of your choice. And you’d been excited for it, in fact, but after the…activities of last night it’d completely slipped your mind that he’d be delving more into it this lecture.
And the poor boy stumbles through his explanation, “H-he let everyone choose their partners, and I wanted to wake you up but…you just looked so peaceful.” He fidgets with his fingers and flushes, “I th-thought one of your friends would come up here and choose you but-”
Probing him gently, “But?”
“B-but I’m afraid you ended up paired with me.” Choso just looks so genuinely apologetic- “I’m sorry- no one picked me either. I should’ve woken you up, but we can go talk with Professor Yaga about changing partners if you’d like-”
“Hey—wait.” You’re cutting off his spiel, something in your chest aching at the utterly devastated furrow between his brows. You take a step closer to him, “I would love to do the project with you, Choso. No need to talk to Yaga about anything.”
He looks up at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “B-but your friends…”
“I don’t really have close friends in this class, anyway.” You smile, “I’d much rather do it with you.”
“Really—?” Breathed. As if he couldn’t believe it.
And it’s after some time - and a deep inhale - that he speaks again. Finally sinking in that someone would choose him of all people—that you would, that he speaks again. “And um- would you like to work on the script at my place?” Before you can answer, his breath hitches and his head shoots up. “N-not that I’m pressuring you into…it’s nothing weird, I promise! We can meet anywhere else you like- the library, your place- wait, no that’s weird, too…”
“Choso- Choso.” You giggle. And if this was anyone else then you would’ve assumed that they were putting the moves on you. “I’m okay with your place.”
.
.
.
The apartment was a fair distance away from the campus dorms.
Which made sense, you suppose, given the fact that less than half the people there would be able to afford the rent on such a place—especially after tuition. The highrise dove into the clouds, its vermicular body scaled in glistening windows and gold-accented furnishings within. You got the distinct feeling of being swallowed whole as you entered through the widely-gaped entrance, with several doormen and security that eyed you up and down, bowed at Choso.
You thanked them and made your way - slightly speechless - through the hallways.
This was everything you could ever dream of, and you’re sure you spot the odd actor or two down in the lobby. As you’re getting into an elevator the size of your entire dorm room, Choso punches in one of the highest floor numbers and turns to you-
Throughout the bus ride here, you’d been the one chattering away. And so it surprises you once he finally speaks, “I-I’m sorry…my place is a bit of a mess.”
“Can’t be as bad as mine. I won’t judge.” Who cares about a mess when he lives in a place like this? You couldn’t wait to go inside…
He pushes his chunky glasses upwards and gives you a shy smile, “Thank you.” Looking down at his polished shoes, “You’re so sweet.”
“Thank you.”
And you rise upwards in silence.
Soon enough, you’re finding yourself being led up to his massive apartment. He’s punching in the numbers of the code and setting his backpack down—telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you shuffle inside awkwardly; past the lavish furnishings and the alien-shaped lamps that all rich places seemed to boast.
He leads you in the direction of the master bedroom - where Choso said that his film collection was vast and likely to reveal techniques that the two of you would be able to incorporate into your own script.
“I even have a copy of Momijigari- it’s one of my most prized possessions.” He shoots you such a charming smile, eyes twinkling behind his glasses, over his shoulder. Heading inside.
And you can’t help but follow.
A single step inside his not-so-humble abode and you’re feeling a sudden sense of déjà vu wash over you, rendering you unsteady on your feet. Not quite sure why, you’re sweeping your eyes around the space: the high-quality camera equipment in one corner (not unusual to see for a film student), the chic furnishings, and then over to the empty wall space above the king-sized bed, something in you remained dissatisfied as they find nothing there but white plaster.
Choso notices that you’ve stalled behind and looks over at you curiously—he was taking a seat on the carpet, laptop opened up on top of the coffee table. “Something wrong? I’m sorry, I know it’s really messy but-”
“No, you’re good.” You shake your head, “It’s actually not messy enough.”
He smiles.
That night, you went home and wondered why Choso’s smile looked so familiar.
.
.
.
The musical that you’d chosen for your ‘adaptation’ was The Phantom of the Opera, suggested by you, of course.
And if there had been any connection to the masked man you’d been watching the night prior, then you were just glad that Choso had no idea.
It was far easier, given the fact that it’d already been adapted from the initial novel—though that only meant that Yaga would be critiquing yours even harder.
So you had to strive to be more cinematic, than the others in your class, stronger in ways than the ones before you - and though you doubt you’d ever match up to Schumacher’s visuals, there was little doubt as to whether you’d be the best amongst the students. This was a screenplay made to impress, and in the week since you’d pored over it—and Choso Kamo’s mahogany coffee table typing away at it, you only grew more determined in the fact. And throughout the week, you’ve been flitting in and out of that very apartment of his.
Choso had been a lovely partner for the project - the best you could’ve ever asked for - and you’re coming to find that he was actually far more funny than anyone ever gave him credit for. Far more open. Far more active when it came to something he was passionate about.
And of course, you knew that he’d be sweet.
Despite his initial insistence that he could do the project himself, you’d taken up half the work. And you’d joined him in browsing through his massive catalogue of movies, in searching up screenplays to read, and in annotating them for techniques when starting to write yours.
You’ve come to make friends with one of the doormen by now.
Just today you’d watched the 2004 Phantom of the Opera adaptation. And after a few hours of occupying his space and getting to know the nerdy boy a little better, you’d go straight back home to…Curse.
Whenever Choso made you feel tingly with his sweetness, Curse would amplify that heat to right between your legs.
It’s been a week of getting to know Choso Kamo, and a week of having Curse splashed across your laptop screen—cock furiously hard n’ his moans echoing. He’d smile and utter your username whilst wearing his iconic mask and it’d be a high strong enough to follow into the day after. And often Choso would ask you what you’re so happy about.
Today, in particular, Curse had just finished one of his streams - cumming aaaaaall over the desk this time - when he’d settled himself back down and started chatting with the comments. Responding to one or two of yours.
You’re just about to joke about why he was sticking so long after his orgasm when he speaks once more-
Voice somewhat serious, “Alright, now…settle down, settle down.” Curse waves his hand airily at the camera, throwing a middle finger up when the chat only gets more frenzied. “Tch- what brats you all are, would you wanna roleplay that someday?”
@vampzo333: YES PLEASE.
@likezmenpregnant: How about you be the brat…?
@Ietsmakeamovie: I would like that.
@sixeyesorsixh0les: ^^
@0003h0lesforCurse: ^
“Fine fine…” Underneath the mask, he rolls his eyes fondly. “But I really do have something to announce-”
@likezmenpregnant: You’re pregnant.
@Ietsmakeamovie: I’m the father-
@Curse’swifey: NO MEEEEEEEEEEE!!
“I’m thinking of getting a partner for these streams.” He finally admits, rubbing his chin as though still in thought. And your heart stops-
@bipplruletheworld: so down.
@Cursenoticeme44: Omg yeeeeeeeeees!!
@daddytoeknee: YESYESYES.
The chat practically explodes, and you’re unsure what to feel about it—after all, you don’t know Curse and it’d be strange to feel a little possessive over his solo streams, however, you did have your preferences. But then again, you can’t help but imagine just how much hotter it would be to have two people- perhaps to see him make expressions he never has before…
Ultimately, you’re quiet as Curse leans in and scans the chat. His brows furrow just a little as he sweeps through the blurring usernames, “I dunno…I’m still thinking about it- I haven’t even asked this person, to be honest. I just wanted to know what you guys thought.” Nodding his head along or huffing out laughter at some of the comments, “Movie?”
You jolt—at being called out.
He wanted your opinion specifically? You suppose you did contribute to about half his comment section most streams.
But you stall as your fingers reach for the keyboard.
Biting down on your lip and contemplating for a little while. Though he waits as patiently as ever-
@Ietsmakeamovie: I don’t mind!!
Something seems to wash over him as he reads your comment, nodding. “I see.”
He moves onto something else and his expression was indiscernible.
You’re flickering your eyes to the artwork behind him, the small corner of it peaking into the frame, and it suddenly hits you that it’s the theatrical poster of The Phantom of the Opera (2004).
.
.
.
It can’t be.
It can’t be.
It can’t be.
There’s something your brain was telling you that you’re absolutely refusing to believe—after all, how many people in the world loved The Phantom of the Opera? Hell, how many people in the world have watched The Phantom of the Opera?
That didn’t mean that everyone you came across had a secret identity as one of the hottest streamers on C4mBoyfriends.
You were being paranoid, you told yourself. You were being utterly silly- and the next time you’re going over to Choso’s apartment was the very next day. Which wasn’t entirely ideal, given how much you’d tossed and turned after Curse’s last stream conjuring up all the possibilities…but Yaga wouldn’t accept a request for an extension even if you were set on fire in front of him. And so you went.
The pit of your stomach twists as Choso swings the lavish wooden door open and gives you a beaming smile. So innocent. So sweet.
He shakily pushes his glasses up as he welcomes you in. “Come in—s-sorry if I took a while to get to the door, I’ve been doing some decorating recently.”
His nervous smile is what makes you find your voice. And you’re dubiously looking around the luxurious apartment, “You need to do some decorating?”
“Believe it or not, yes.” Choso huffs. “Would you like something to drink? Or maybe to eat? I checked out that bakery you recommended last time and you’re right- they have the best Danish pastries.”
“Actually, Choso…” You’re shaking your head, shooting him a grateful smile. “I’m good. I’d think I’d prefer to start right away, if that’s alright? I really wanna get to Act 2 today.”
“O-oh, of course—!”
And he’s sweetly guiding you inside, whilst you attempt not to look like you’re taking two steps at a time. Back to that familiar room. Back to that familiar desk. Back to that (somewhat) familiar bed which most certainly did not have an artwork from The Phantom of the Opera on it—
You open the door and the first thing you’re seeing is the familiar plane of that white mask. The Phantom.
Choso follows behind you and catches you staring at the poster. Gravelly tone echoing from behind, “I told you I did some decorating.”
And you jump-
Swivelling around to find him bearing you a sheepish smile, “Sorry if I startled you.” He pushes those chunky glasses up, “Tea?”
“S-sure…” You breathe, if anything for a thing to occupy your mouth with. Wait- not like that—!
And as Choso disappears down the hall, you’re taking a seat on the bed you’ve sat on countless, countless times before without a single care in the world. Now you’re sinking into the very - the very - edge as though it’d swallow you whole.
Body just resting on the plush comforter before-
“Hey, so I also have coffee if you would prefer?” Comes Choso’s sudden voice.
And you’re startling once more- “Just tea is fine, thanks.” Barely managing to get that through your lips, you’re watching as he disappears…as the sound of his footsteps echo…
Before darting off the bed and now heading towards the camera equipment you’d noticed in the corner the first time you’d been here. What you’d assumed to be part of another one of his classes or personal projects. Now, you’re leaning in and wondering with just which camera he showed his pretty cock off to millions, at just what height of his tripod he made your cunt so heated.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck this was real.
Now, you’re noticing things in the room that you’d never noticed before. Like the ring light kept underneath his bed, and the dresser in the corner with numerous rings- those weren’t costume props or anything. They were pure silver.
Heavy.
Heavy, like the pit in your stomach—excited and swirling. Just trembling at the tips of your fingers - ever-so-slightly - you’re reaching out as though to touch it, as though to feel the alternate version of Choso that you knew longer than you knew Choso-
“Ah, so you’ve realized.”
And then his voice permeates the room.
The room that suddenly seems smaller, the room that suddenly seems to rise ten degrees in temperature - though goosebumps skitter across your skin. And almost as though in a horror movie, you’re turning in slow motion to face the bespectacled man who was now holding up a tray of steaming hot tea.
He walks over soundlessly and sets it on the coffee table with a slight click! And besides that, Choso walks over to the dressing table and puts his silver rings on.
One by one.
His eyes hold court with yours through the mirror, “How long?” Voice a deep timbre.
You’re taking a step closer without even realizing, “Um…just last night. Just now- actually.”
He chuckles and you realize he’s asking how long you’ve known about Curse.
“I-I found you by chance. About a week ago, actually…” And then you say what’s been on your mind ever since you had, “Ever since you liked and unliked my repost.”
“Ah, a rookie mistake.” Choso comments. “I should have known better than to stalk using my public account.” And with all rings now put on and glinting in the lighting of his bedroom, Choso shuffles through his jewellery tray to pluck his earrings in and one eyebrow piercing. And then…one lip piercing—a lip ring that twinkles mischievously as he smiles.
He rises and you think you’ve never quite appreciated his built frame.
His deep eyes as they’re locking in on you. Echoing out, “Though…you really can’t say much- can you, Movie?”
And though you knew that he knew- you can’t stop the zaps of electricity running through your body.
Sputtering out, “Yeah-” Your fists clench and you’re looking up at the object of both your fantasies and your secret interest these past few days - melded into one. “Yeah, I really can’t. Choso you’re so…”
“Different?” He fixes his glasses, “Though I really am shy, I can’t deny that- especially around you. But it helps to be a little more antisocial when I’m around idiots.”
He leans in closer- so close that his scorchin’ hot breath wafts across your features. You have no idea how you’d diminished such a distance so soon…
“And if my memory serves me right-” Choso taps on the edge of his chin, in mocking thought. “-I seem to remember that Movie agreed to have a partner on my stream.” You shiver. And he looks at you adoringly, “So how about it? Wanna make a movie, baby?”
You step a little closer.
“Only if I get to match wardrobes.”
He chuckles and picks you up to spin you around-
And then it’s getting to work. And then it’s shuffling through his closet to find a mask that matches his own.
He stretches on the rubber a bit and brings it to you—“I bought this one when I first started, but it ended up being too tight- I think it’d be just the one for you.”
It was. It fit perfectly.
And then he paces around the room and starts to set up- before Choso’s gaze catches you hovering around the bed, and then he’s clicking his tongue and forgoing the tripods altogether. With just the professional lights and the high-quality camera, Choso places the camera on top of the coffee table. Facing the foot of the bed - everything and anything could be seen.
Just with a few clicks he’s started the stream.
And with just a little nudge he’s urging you to sit next to him.
“Hello, my little sluts—” Choso- or should you say Curse croons towards the camera. On one of his monitors you can see him being projected there - waving, in his knitted vest that clashed with his mask. You stand off awkwardly out of sight from the camera. He smiles. “As you can see, things are a little different today…”
@girrrrrrrrrrth: uuuuuu change of angle!! change of angle!!
@bewbsRlife: ARE WE GETTING A SURPRISEEEEEEE??
@likezmenpregnant: Pls be pregnant, Curse <3
“No- no, I’m not pregnant.” He laughs, “But I have been thinking about what we talked about last night.”
@bipplruletheworld: omg this can’t be…
“And guess what? I did what you guys told me about- and I talked to her.”
@bipplruletheworld: yessssssss
@yoyoyoureinmypuss: I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE^^
@bewbsRlife: WOOOOOO-
@daddytoeknee: Omg where’s Movie, Ik she’d love this- heh. Imagine this WAS Movie though…
“So, my little sluts…” Choso announces, “I’d like to introduce you all to my new partner—” And he’s reaching out and clasping your wrist, looking up to check for reassurance before continuing. Miming whispering to the camera, “And this is her first time on stream, so be nice…”
You’re sheepishly walking into their view.
Slightly bowing your intrusion into the stream, “Th-thanks for having me?”
“Isn’t she cuuuuute?” He asks the commenters, and there’s a flurry of agreements. You’re even spotting a few questions about your name n’ interests, even kinks, amongst those - all of which Choso waves off with a laugh. “Now now—we can have the Q&A later. For now, let’s get to the fun part…”
@Curse’swifey: FUCK THAT’S MY FAV PART-
@2coolforcond0ms(i’mavirgin): Movie you’re missing out on a historic moment uwu
And the fun part consisted of clamoring onto the bed as fast as lightning. Letting the mattress dip n’ creak its protests out as Choso sits on it with his back turned to the camera, then lovingly pats his manspread thighs as a signal for you to climb on. Meaty muscles. Thick enough for you to want to sink your teeth into- how could you never have noticed?
Perhaps because this was the polar opposite of how he acted when he was on campus - always keeping to himself, never taking up too much space. Now he was practically vacuuming it all up so you had nowhere else to sit.
And you were more than happy to climb onto Choso Kamo’s lap.
Sitting your ass down on his readily-awaiting seat. From under your skirt you feel something hot—and throbbing between his legs. Cylindrically shaped and curved to the left.
Just the slightest movement makes his rock-hard erection twitch underneath- and you’re whimpering at the lewd sensation. At the way he drips out a hefty dollop of precum that seeps through his trousers and sticks to the front of your panties, making you gasp—“Ch-Cho-”
“Shhhh.” Choso wraps a hand ‘round your throat and cuts you off.
And before you know it, he’s bouncing his knees to get you to slide your drippin’ pussy up and down his bulge. Up and down. Turning towards the camera, “Ya hear that?” Up and down. “My girl’s so needy- she’s already begging for it. But I dunno if she deserves it, huh?”
@bewbsRlife: I MEANNNN
@theh0rniestsoldier: i’m feeling mean today…
@daddytoeknee: Give her your mouth!!
“Mouth? I love that idea.” Choso titters.
And then he’s giving a teasing slap on the side of your ass cheeks—smack!
“Please-”
“Sit on my face now, baby.” He purrs, eyes flickerin’ with pure need underneath his mask. Then leaning in to whisper in a loooow tone for only you to hear. “You know Choso, but let’s see if you can handle Curse.”
Then he leans back on the bed - his head pointing in the direction of the camera.
And you’re shuffling up Choso’s toned, brick-hard body—straddling your knees upon either side of his head, veerin’ your hips right atop that pretty face. You’re sitting - right in front of the camera. Though nothing was revealed…yet.
And Choso’s digging his tongue up to you instantly- he isn’t even making it past the fabric of your panties. But that doesn’t stop him from lettin’ his tastebuds take a looooong, luxurious lick of your swollen pussy.
Right down your sopping wet slit.
Suddenly, the room echoes with one of his pornographic moans- the very same ones you’d listened to night after night through your laptop speakers. Now they’re even louder, and somehow even sexier, sending electricity shooting straight up, up, up from your core.
And even more treacherous was the way you’re feeling something cold…and metallic at the very middle of Choso’s tongue. Rock-hard. It takes whatever’s left of your rationality to realize that it’s a silvery tongue piercing smack-dab where his tastebuds kissed your pussy. Scraping alongside where you were most sensitive.
Instantly; your head tips back and saliva starts bubbling at the sides of your lips. “Fuh-fuck…” And before you know it—you’re starting to drag your throbbing pussy up n’ down his features.
Short, barely-there jerks of your shy, shy hips.
And Choso chuckles huskily to himself at the cute way you were yearnin’ for his mouth. But what you didn’t expect was for him to reach one ringed hand up and squeeze the left side of your hips.
Your only warning.
Before he’s suddenly tightening his hold on you and reaching one more hand up- snaking it beneath your skirt like some pervert. Choso edges towards your throbbing cunt and places one good slap—
It’s the resounding smack! of skin-on-skin that makes you halt more than anything.
Jaw-dropped. Thighs quivering. The white-hot pleasure runs through your spine and leaves you barely hearing his roughened words, a tone lower than you knew his voice to be- as though drunk on the delicious taste of your pussy already. “Greedy, greedy girl…” Choso tuts, “Don’t tell me you’re trying to enjoy yourself without letting our dear audience in on the fun?”
Oh, shit.
You’re letting your head snap to where the camera was positioned and blinking its one gluttonous eye. Comments flooding the screen of the monitor so fast that you couldn’t read them-
You’d completely forgotten about the stream for a second.
“I—oh, I um.”
Yet another harsh smack! “Forgot, huh?” Amusement seeps into Choso’s words, as though he’d already guessed the situation.
You admit, “M-maybe…”
“I’m afraid I can’t blame you, baby.” Smack! “Curse’s mouth is too good, huh?” He yammers on and on, his tongue nudging deeper, his rippling tastebuds skidding into every ridge- as if trying to fuck you through your damn panties. “This pussy’s too good–she’s purring f’me already. Hear her?”
And you’re not sure why- but you’re nodding to whatever he says. “Y-yes—fuck.”
“Mhm. So why don’t we let our lovely audience hear, too, huh?” You’re barely given the time to register his suggestion, before Choso husks out a command. “Lift your skirt up, baby.”
Your thighs squeeze around his head at the notion-
And your fingertips touch the short hemline of your skirt.
@Cursenoticeme44: Holy shit.
@theh0rniestsoldier: i’ve been waiting for thisssssssssss-
@daddytoeknee: WOW.
@girrrrrrrrrrth: bby’s so needy!!
@R€4leater: munch Curse #canon
The chat explodes as you let them bear witness to Choso’s face stuffed between your pretty legs- he’s redly-flushed and ravenous. They could see the slightest glimpse of his nose n’ the way he’s driving it between your sodden pussylips, diving and diving, they could see the glossy layers coating your cunt—and the way Choso’s pink lips come up to suck on it.
Those handsome cheeks of his hollow out, as he’s makin’ out with your pussy through your panties.
Like a man starved.
Long canines slightly nippin’ at your folds- almost wolfish in mannerisms.
“Oh p-please…” You’re quivering atop him. You don’t even know what you’re begging for—just that it feels so good to have him veering his tongue hungrily against your cunt like this. And you wanted more.
More, more, and more.
Choso’s holding onto your restless hips with a clammy hand- he’s stuck to you almost like adhesive. And he guides your hips - he fucking slows them down - whilst you continue moanin’ and shaking atop his raw mouth. Glistening wet tongue extending even more than its usual length to slide-slide-sliiiiide your panties to the side-
And you’re gasping at the sudden whiff of cold bedroom air against your naked pussy. “Ch-” A spank. “I mean- fuck, Curse?”
“Mhm, m’here, baby.” He drawls out. Slightly slurring with all the extra globs of your pussy juices - pooling straight into your mouth, n’ Choso reaches up and smooches your soft swollen folds to smear it all around. Like some gloss. “M’here aaaaaand- so are 820k sluts that wanna watch you break.”
“B-break?” You’re gaping, “I thought you were just gonna- ngh, eat me out…?”
“Baby, Curse never ‘just’ does anything.” And you’re shocked to find him sliding his tongue out, tipping his head back to refer to the camera on the coffee table. “Isn’t that right, fuckin’ pervs?”
@daddytoeknee: Hell yeah.
@0003h0lesforCurse: duhhhhhhhhh
@yoyoyoureinmypuss: YOU’RE THE BEST CURSE
@Fishygurodad: Fuck, her pussy’s divine.
“Heh…” Choso smiles into your cunt, “And so whaddaya say? How many slaps before I stick my tongue in her?”
@vampzo333: 3
@bbynohuuuuzz: 14
@Ilikepr1menumbers: 29
“Since m’feeling nice- read your favorite one out, baby.” He murmurs.
To which you’re unable to do anything but- you tilt your upper half just the slightest bit closer to the monitor and pick out the first one you can read through the blur of words and numbers:
@Fishygurodad: Until she cries.
Oh.
Your blood runs cold.
Your cunt grows heated.
And before you can either rectify your recitation or beg for mercy—Choso doesn’t hesitate before fixing the rings on his fingers to be slightly higher than before. Making sure they’re in line of him planting one- two- three good, loud spanks on your sobbin’ cunt. “O-oh my god- fuck, mmm, oh my god.”
Until the skin of his fingertips seems to redden, and your pussylips feel raw - “How about that?” He asks- not from you, but from the viewers.
@daddytoeknee: I don’t see her crying yet…also idkkkkk I’m getting Movie vibes.
@girrrrrrrrrrth: movie would’ve loved this-
And then it’s one after the other. Again and again, Choso’s emblazoning the rude outlines of his rings against yours - until you’ve fucking memorized the ridges n’ patterns of the one ring on his middle finger with the carving of an octopus.
Tentacles flared out.
“Shit, not that damn ring again.”
And as he’s doing so he can’t help himself- fuck, he can’t heeeeelp himself. His canines dig into the sticky fabric of your underwear like a damn dog - and throughout the duration of what his hands were doing, you’re hearing the sharp riiiiip of fabric tearing—!
Soon enough, your panties are tattered and ruined in Choso’s maw- just from his mouth. He spits it out and continues swerving his thickened tips inwards to give a loving pinch on your clit—and you can’t help but burst into peals of shrill, needy cries. Both pain and pleasure mixing as he doles out a final swat-
Before Choso swipes your pussylips apart and spits- the glutinous glob of his saliva landing directly on your hole. He doesn’t give it the time to seep back out—instead, he’s surging up and shoving his face between your legs.
This time, without the barrier of your panties in the way.
@CCpervnextdoor: HE FUCKING RIPPED IT OFF WITH HIS MOUTH??
@bewbsRlife: HOLY SHIT CURSE-
@Fishygurodad: Shiiiiit, I’d do the same ngl.
And then Choso’s shoving his tongue inside and slurpin’ all around your wet hole like a damn animal…
In and out.
In and out.
Probin’ into slippery sweet spots.
Chin hitting the back of your slit. Plastic mask rubbing against your clit.
Choso’s pierced tongue was going absolutely fucking wild inside of you. He wastes no time before gripping either side of your cute hips and slammin’ your pussy down onto his mouth- hard and fast. The perverted nerd is slashing his tongue inwards, smearin’ apart your glue-covered folds. As deep as he could go. He doesn’t care if it hurts, he just needs to make sure that loooong slick muscle of his tastebuds were scrapin’ every inch of your walls.
With the curved tip of it, he flexes it against a sweet bundle of nerves. Making you buck with a pitchy moan of his name—“Ch-Cuuuurse—!” And the sensation was made even more delicious with the way his orb tongue piercing presses in contrast against your hot cunt. “It feels so good, Curse.”
“I already know.” Choso pipes up- cocky in all the ways you never knew he could be. “I already know- but what about those fuckers watching, huh?”
“W-well…” Spit drivels down your chin, and you’re struggling to keep your eyes focused to read the urgent chat.
@bipplruletheworld: they’re so HOT!!
@NERDSAREMYBABYGIRLZ: OHHHH WHAT A MUNCH
@daddytoeknee: Me next <3
And it was clear that they were seeing the effect he had on you- how could they not?
Your eyes were dazed and teary, your thighs were shaking like leaves in the wind, Choso was making your body twitch—just from the way he’s reeling his entire tongue out. And breathing out steadily and slowly against your twitchin’ pussylips, freezing cold air that leaves you even wetter on top of him.
He’s unfastening his mouth - leaving it wiiiiide open for all the satiny ribbons of your slick to enter his gullet. And once you’re done- that isn’t enough riling you up.
Choso leaves a good slap on your folds and asks, “So…what about it?” Muffled through his mouthfuls.
“They agree- they agree—” You’re keening out. Star-struck, seeing pleasure burst behind your shuttered eyelids at the sudden stinging. “Fuck- you’re the hck! best I’ve ever had, Curse.”
“I agree.” He hums. And as if this entire ordeal wasn’t sinful enough, Choso’s swashing around the silky-smooth sap he’d collected from your leaking pussy. Letting the flavor seep into his tastebuds, before he’s then spitting again on your pussy. A semi-opaque layer of lewdness that coats your inner thighs in a sheen that catches the lighting.
Perfect on camera.
You’re squeezing your wettened thighs together and creating an audible squelch!
“Awwww, look- this pussy agrees, too.”
The gooey addition startles you- and you rut.
Only straight down onto his awaiting fingers.
@girrrrrrrrrrth: oh, shit is he…
@legsopenforcurses: With the rings on, too!!
@likezmenpregnant: My show is onnnnn
It’s such a fucking mess for him to navigate- even with his own fingers. Soon enough, you’re arching your back as you feel him intrude a single ringed digit between those utterly swollen pussylips of yours—almost difficult to find your snug hole between them. You’re damn lucky that Choso’s fingers were slender as well as incredibly lengthy.
Because he’s circlin’ your tight orifice a few times - only a few times - before inserting the sections of his finger. Quirking just right and hitting the exact bundle of your nerves.
That infamous g-spot that made you yelp once he starts and keeps on hitting.
And his rings- oh, fuck, his rings.
Just so chunky and textured. They were the perfect designs to press up against your walls and massage them stupid- every drag meant that you’re feeling them dig into ridges n’ crevices you hadn’t even known existed.
Hitting and hitting. Curling his dexterous finger and scraping- “Fuuuuck, oh my god.” The doughy tip of his finger soon becomes damn-near molded to the area where it was, and your eyes flicker to the back of your head as you continue anglin’ your hips so he could hit it perfectly. “Right there, Curse- r-right there.”
“I know.” Choso rolls his eyes - at least what seems like it underneath his mask. “That’s why I’m hitting it. Honestly…is my girl dickmatized?” He utters as he sucks on your clit—ultimately erupting a sobbing slurp! that makes him nod. “Mhm, I think my girl’s dickmatized.”
Tipping his head back before you can refute his claims. He then addresses the audience-
“Whaddaya think, my little pervs? Dickmatized already…maybe I should go easy on her, huh?”
@olderandR4w: nooooooooooo
@yoyoyoureinmypuss: NEVER.
@Fishygurodad: Go even harder.
“Tough crowd.” And with that said, Choso’s stuffin’ in just a few more fingers. Each with their own numerous rings and sopping wet sounds accompanying them—slurp!
One.
Two.
You’re counting about three of his prolonged digits pushin’ your tight walls to their limits, rubbing your sweet spots raw with his constant bashing rhythm, before lustful fogginess coils around your brain. And it’s around here that Choso catches onto the glazed look in your eyes and chuckles—
“Ohhhh, you really are dickmatized.” He hums to himself, though you’re sure the professional mic picks it up either way. “And so soon, too. Probably hasn’t had a good finger-”
A fourth being added so that he can scissor apart your velvety channel whilst still multi-tasking with his other fingers to ram into your g-spot.
“-or even a good mouth on ‘er…” To emphasize his point, he presses a dramatically loud kiss upon your clit. One that’s making you bounce n’ bounce your hips atop his clammy face, and grind your throbbing nub down on his pointed nose. The addition of his mask just makes that cool touch even more lecherous. “My poor girl.” Choso still mutters out despite the way he’s gluing your cunt to his mouth. He pulls away from your clit with a loud pop! “What do you think, my slutty audience?”
At the slurring question you’re letting your head down to watch him. “Ch…Curse, what’ve you got on your mind-”
“M’just asking what else you deserve, baby.” He coos. And questions them once more, “How about a little quiz? Which parts of Curse are going to make my poor, poor girl feel the best? A). My fingers. B). My mouth. Or…”
And he pretends to listen to your noisy wet pussy once more.
“Or C…” You could practically feel the grin plastering against your needy pussy. The way his eyes narrow in sinful amusement beneath his mask- you didn’t have to see his full face to know that Choso was enjoying this perhaps way more than he should. “—all of the above.”
And it was futile to think that they would answer anything else.
C floods your vision.
You’re letting your mouth droop, and your gaze meet Choso’s own between your legs- but you’re finding that you don’t have to say a thing for him to already know the answer.
And as expected, he gives a final roll of his tongue atop your clit - before munchin’ on your aching cunt once more. This time, he’s tunneling his fingers deep into your cavern whilst still licking inside with his prolonged tongue—when stretched out, Choso’s tongue could reach almost as deep as his fingers could.
Your cunt was being stretched-out to lengths you never thought about before.
Not only were Choso’s fingers thicker than yours, but his tongue was something ravenous- no matter how much you’re flinching in sensitivity, he isn’t slowing down. “Mmm-” He groans, barely breathing through even his flared nostrils. You’re hit with the distinct feeling that he thinks he doesn’t even have to breathe as long as he had you on him like this - “Mmm, hold still.”
Taking advantage of the fact to lavish your sensitive inches with kiss upon kiss. To grind his nose down purposefully on your clit. To glide his metallic piercing across those hidden spots. To bash your poor g-spot in again and agaaaain with his fingers before his tongue’s coming to the rescue to soothe the slightly raw sting-
So it’s not long before you’re throwing your head back and cumming.
Perhaps the strongest you’ve ever felt when you’re in the throes of your high.
You barter your hips forwards and keep up a steady pace - one that’s making Choso hit the exact spots you wanted him to during the peaks of your high. The utmost peaks. “Shit—shit, just like that.” Breathless. “K-keep going, baby, it feels so good.”
And he doesn’t even answer - too caught up in fucking you through your orgasm.
In the way you shudder above him. In the way you’re only getting even sweeter by the second-
Bodyheat raising a few degrees in temperature; your heart sings and the bed creaks with how much you’re jostling from above. This was even better than touching yourself to videos of him, there were so many thrills of bliss that he’s wringing out of you- like he’d wring out of himself during his solo videos.
With both his fingers and his tongue, slurpin’ and sliding. Those doe-like eyes of his are edging straight to the back of his skull as he feels your drenched walls cleeeeench around his pierced tongue, as though it’s the best thing he’s ever fucking felt. And you’re acting on impulse - you really are - because the coffee table was positioned right beside the foot of the bed.
And all you had to do was reach your arm out to grab the simple camera there. Turning it into your point of view as Choso’s sweaty brown bangs stick to his forehead, as sweat trickles down his temple, as he lets out soft yet unyielding moans whenever you’re squeezing your thighs around his head.
@cockycockowner: no homo but that’s the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen.
@theh0rniestsoldier: woah he’s PUSSYDRUNK
@Fishygurodad: Show me his POV.
@daddytoeknee: Don’t you know that she’s his girl now smh?^^
@daddytoeknee: Movie-core- wya ml??
Choso cocks his head and keeps making out with your pussy in all the ways that make your toes curl—pleasure elongating from your orgasm and spreading into every part of you. Your vessels, your cells, your atoms.
They’re all buzzing with pleasure and still aching for more once Choso finally pulls away with a loud pop! of his lips releasing.
When they do, you’re sneaking a look down at him and noticing just how red n’ swollen they were. Even the skin around his jaw was flushed with the constant ramming contact. And the viewers are just gobbling it up - subscribing bells keep dinging here and there, and everywhere.
Just a single look at his stats on-screen reveal that Choso’s climbed up to 870k just since you’d started this stream.
And it’s after a little while - after he’s had his fill - that the dark-haired man finally taps at the side of your thigh to gesture for you to get up. Though, even then, he’s tightening his grip on your body—going against his own fucking instruction to press a final few open-mouthed kisses before he’s done.
He chases after your pussy with his maw for a little- before he’s finally sitting up.
And it’s only then that he seems to notice the camera in your hand, blinking his glazed eyes a few times to make sure he isn’t dreaming things up. Once it finally registers, the most attractive grin spreads across his face. “You changed POVs?”
“Had to.” You admit, “I wanted them to see how pretty you are…”
“Guess you finally learned about sharing, hm? Greedy girl.” He chuckles darkly to himself. And then he starts looming closer, “But you realize that the show’s not done yet, right?”
You gulp.
@Fishygurodad: Fuck her already, damn!! I’m only here for her.
@2coolforcond0ms(i’mavirgin): Hate to admit it, but he’s lowk right. I think I’ve discovered I’m bi…
@vampzo333: ^^
@girrrrrrrrrrth: ^^
“So impatient.” He looks at the monitor, reading the chat and tuts. “Honestly- so ungrateful. I should end the stream right here and fuck her on my own terms.”
There’s a frenzied flurry of comments- all of which you were sure were begging for Choso not to stop and bashing that one commenter for attempting to start a revolution. To which you’re only giggling and handing over the camera to him.
Choso - as the expert - then positions it somewhere by the edge of the fluffy pillows: where they’d be able to see the expanse of both your bodies and where you’d soon be connected…
And then you’re shedding your clothes in a hurry- making it to your smart blouse before he’s reaching a hand up and tearing through it. The buttons hit the floor, and at your noise of displeasure Choso merely lets out a half-delirious giggle.
He leans in and whispers, “I-I have a Phantom of the Opera t-shirt I’d love for you to wear.”
The change in demeanour gives you utter whiplash, and you can’t help but stare at him open-mouthed.
“What?” Choso asks, next moving on to shrugging off his own fabrics. They’re landing on a heap beside the bed, and your lips slightly part at the display of his red-hot erection—it’s just as large and sensual as all those streams had proven him to be. Polished strawberry top. Slender veins along the middle.
A happy trail of dark brown - nearly black - glistened with the splattered remnant of his precum. Just like the gleaming mess across his chin, mouth, and cheekbones that Choso wore like a medal.
He was slightly longer than even on camera- and even prettier up-close. Way up close- he shuffles his body up yours n’ fucks your tits a few times to dollop out glistening translucent precum across yours tits.
“Lighting’s not the best here.” Choso explains- or at least attempts to pin an explanation onto that. Onto something he’s clearly been wanting to do for so long. “Had to highlight ‘em, baby.”
You scoff, “It’s just…” Throwing a cautious glance at the camera, you lower your voice. “You’re so different from how you are in real life.”
“Oh? And how did you expect me to be, huh?” He positions himself between your legs - wrapping both of them around his waist. Before then thinking better of it and throwing them even more lewdly around his neck instead—his plush priggish tip kisses your entrance. “Did you expect me to be like…”
He trails off.
He doesn’t need to complete the rest of his sentence- and you don’t think you’d have heard him even if he tried.
Because in that very moment, Choso’s jerking his pale hips back a mere few inches—then plopping his globular tip between your pussylips and push-push-puuuuuushing. Fucking past the initial restraint of your first ring of muscle, he’s funneling in some thick inches that make your heels bang against the muscles of his back.
And he doesn’t even seem to notice.
He doesn’t even seem to breathe as he’s letting his cock swerve inside. Get suctioned inside. Get his Prince Albert’s piercing crept down your sensitive innards. Get gobbled up between your greedy legs-
You clench ‘round him and Choso throws his head back with a low, broken moan.
“Oh p-please—” He’s babbling out through unsteady pink lips, a lazy line of dribble starting up from one corner of his mouth. Those long lashes of his flutter as he’s reaching one bulky hand up to grip the headboard, and placing his right one on your hips- keeping you steady.
Fingers trembling. Muscles rippling.
@likezmenpregnant: Woah…make him do that again…
@sixeyesorsixh0les: SUBBY CURSE HELLO??
@whimperwhiteboywhimper: oh I am SO here for this
@Fishygurodad: Whatever…
Your eyes bulge once his throat cracks with what sounds like a whimper—“Please it feels so good.” And though you couldn’t quite make it out, even the chat seemed stunned as Choso punctures out a broken stutter of his hips. Delving a few inches into your goopy insides- though not enough to bottom out completely, as you’re still too wound-up for him to fit completely. And you’re able to pinpoint exactly where he’s using the orbed metal of his first piering. With more to come…“Ngh- oh.” Broken noises emanating into your eardrums and the mic. “It f-feels shooooo good, baby.”
Choso’s head drops into the crook of your neck, and there - and there - you’re feeling his cheeky grin.
And suddenly you’re understanding.
Oh—he was toying with you.
And he was doing it in a way that’d completely fooled you- and perhaps all of his viewers, too.
But before you’re able to open your mouth to bite back something at him, Choso staggers his hips back and gives you a vicious jackhammer with his cock, “O-ohhhhh, my god—” Your toes curl atop his shoulders, slippery with sweat. He hadn’t even rammed all the way inside yet, and yet the slightly left-leaning angle of his shaft was driving you wild.
Big and thick.
Running the slick globe of his tip down your walls, Choso probes a direct hit to that spot you loved so much. And he knew you loved it so much—he’d mapped out your entire pussy earlier, of course.
And yet, he’s still gasping as though the pearls gates of heaven had descended right here and there. He’s letting his sweet caramel eyes widen convincingly as he peers down at you, “I-is that…the spot, baby?”
@Curse’swifey: HE sounds SO NGH.
@daddytoeknee: Daddy likey…
@daddytoeknee: Also Movie would’ve really LOVED this, huh?
You hiss, “Curse, you should already know-”
“But how could I know—?” He exclaims. “This is my first time, after all…” Then Choso’s plastering his clammy tattooed hips - with a snake on the side - to yours, as though the two were connected by the force of the world’s strongest magnets: pulling and pushing, pulling and pushing. Every single battering ram of his mazing cocktip ends up lodged against your sweetly bruised g-spot, marking his circumference out with the sheer pace at which he was hitting it.
“Shit—” Your nails clench on the sheets, and feeling jealous- Choso guides them to fist his hair instead. “Shit, right there. It f-feels so good-”
“There?” The once-nerdy man breathes out in awe. Disbelief every single time - or at least the mocking imitation of one. Swipin’ a line of precum down your nervy spot once more, “Th-there, baby—?”
Something breathy- octaves higher in his tone. “Yes- yes there-”
“There-” Choked up and ruined. Husky grunts hatching in the back of his throat. There was something there in his words that you couldn’t quite pinpoint—a sort of undertone of primal need, primal amusement as he ruined your pussy with his speedily pap-papping hips, but acted as though he had no idea what he was doing. Every single syllable uttered was met with a thorough whack of his curved cockhead against your particular spot- “There there there there- there-”
“Fuh-fuuuck-”
“So this g-spot’s really m-mine now, baby?” Choso asks.
You whine, back arching off the mattress. “Yes-”
“Does she really have my mark on it now?”
“Yes…?” Eyes shooting open as you’re half-registering his question in your hazed brain. He bores his dark eyes down at you intensely. And as though to emphasize his point, you’re feeling his perfectly round tip squeezing into your throat by the next few thrusts. Deeper and deeper.
His Jacob’s Ladder starting to ease its frigid way past your entrance and glide across the roof of your cunt. It was a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
Choso probes even more, “I-is she really shaped to the shape of my cock now?”
“Cho—ngh.” Quickly shutting your cockdrunken self up. Quickly reaching a ringed hand up to squeeze your throat- before he’s languidly snaking his way up to squeezing your pretty cheeks together.
Smushing your face in a way that was almost disrespectful- though, not that you were in any state of mind to call him out on it. And there’s a mean inkling in Choso’s tone as he coos, “Awww, b-baby, why aren’t you answering me?” Another rude slap! of his hips make your own sear in flames- that damn strength of his. Those damn piercings of his. “Is your poor, poor Curse not good enough?”
Before you can answer, he’s looking at the blinking camera.
“My babies, my girl doesn’t love my cock anymore…”
“I do—I do-”
Squeezing his doughy-soft restraints - those contrastingly mean fingers of his - around your cheeks. He’s managing to smush your mouth shut and make you echo out the most pathetically pleading whines—as he fucks you. Determined and targeted.
The glossy rotund edge of his tip presses against your g-spot a few more times before you’re managing to make yourself take a peek at the comments on the monitor.
Almost too far away- almost too blurry with the tears in your eyes.
@Curse’snewestharem: Awwwww poor bby </33
@CCpervnextdoor: I would LOVE your cock, Curse!!
@girrrrrrrrrrth: is it just me or is he teasing us?
@Fishygurodad: ^^Yeah, he’s totally a fraud.
@Curseswombmommy: ^^girl shut up
“Th-they really think you’re oh-so-innocent…” You’re whispering up at him. Overstimulated tears in your eyes.
Breath hitching every time he’s surging his tattooed hips forwards and hitting that one spot particularly hard. Though there was never such a thing as too hard…
And Choso’s shooting you a secret smile - one just between the two of you - before morphing his expression into that of picture-perfect innocence. Roleplaying the demeanor of his nerdy self on campus, mixed with the utterly sultry—sexual way he was draaaaagging his lengthy cock in and out of your cunt.
Eventually, Choso’s emptying his inches out n’ bruising the bottom of your pussy. All of his nine - you seriously felt nine throbbing inches - inches shaping out the in-betweens of your legs. All of the beaded barbells of his Jacob’s Ladder massaging inside- the slitherin’ feeling of them making themselves at home. Zig-zagging and slithering.
He feels the sponginess of your cervix and presses a hand down on your abdomen just to make sure, before changing that excitement into one of almost-genuine bafflement- “I-I really bottomed out?” Choso’s pinkish bottom lip juts out and quivers dramatically.
“Of course, you did.” You’re ready to scoff-
But whatever sarcastic sound was in the back of your throat gets quickly dissolved at the sight of Choso with genuine tears in his eyes. Glistening. “But I never- ngh, never thought I’d be able to.” He puts some more merciless pressure on your stomach that makes you buck—
And the only thing you can do is let your head tip back into the pillows.
The only thing you can do is let out a few mottled moans as he rubs over the small tummy bulge he was fucking into you. Pushing his palm down so that he could feel it.
Whispering out, “I-I never thought this pussy would claim my cock as- ngh, hers, hm?” And for the moment there, you’re completely sure that he isn’t talking to you. Rather, your pussy that was sobbing out squelches after every one of his jackhemmerin’ thrusts. “And it’s not too big, right?”
“N-never—”
“Because m’just a nerd with a- hngh, biiiiiig fuckin’ cock.” How pitiful, right? He’s letting his long, dark lashes flutter as Choso avoids meeting your eyes—as though in shyness. He drills his hips even deeper - one unforgettable strike after the other following every word he spoke. “Just a big- fat- fucking- cock-”
“Please—!” Eventually, your arms reach upwards and you’re grabbing ahold of whatever part of him it is you could reach first. Which just-so-happened to be his bulky deltoids.
Choso’s brows genuinely seem to furrow at the lewdness of you digging your nails into his muscles, leaving your marks for everyone and anyone to see even after this stream has ended. And so he continues in his faux-innocent tone, “Oh? Did that feel good, baby?”
Purposefully slidin’ his cock across your g-spot so that you’d have to cry out. “Y-yeeees—”
“I didn’t even know, baby.” His mouth hangs open, and the most lustrous squelches! echo between your two connected bodies. Your cunt n’ his precum were making such messes…“I had no idea…”
His Jacob’s Ladder leaves your channel feeling raw n’ overstimulated- you feel raw and overstimulated.
And you’re laid-out on the bed dazed and feeling so fucking good as Choso’s picking his pace up even more, you notice for a split-second that his hands have moved. No longer was he holding onto your cheeks n’ watching you squirm—now, the nerdy man hooks both hands around your sweaty thighs and pins them close to his body.
Holding them in place as he leans down, down, dooooooown until the caps of your knees hit your tits.
You’re keening at the stretch, and a searing burn spreads from between your pussy and along your hamstrings. How did he even hide such strength underneath those soft knitted vest? Such a body?
Before you know it, you’re being pressed into your first-ever mating press.
And Choso gapes as though he was just as bewildered as you, “O-oh…did I do that?” He’s fucking asking you—however, when your stunned expression bears no answer, he turns and asks the same question from the camera. The bursts of replies obviously agree n’ tease him. And he’s shaking his head ever-so-slightly, “Did I really bend you in- heh-” A slight chuckle escapes him. “—half, baby?”
And what else can you do but nod and nod and nod—?
“I think this is called a…breeding press?” He cocks his head ever-so-slightly, before shaking his head. “No wait- a mating press.”
“A m-mating press.” You’re repeating lamely.
“I c-can’t believe I’ve folded you into a mating press, baby.” Choso nearly snarls at himself, his hips accelerating until that rouge-tipped cock of his was almost nothing but a blur. “Can’t believe—s’like my body is moving before my mind, ngh. My fat cock’s not hittin’ you too deep, right, my girl?”
“Not in the l-least…”
And he really was long enough to make each and every probe feel as though it was slam-slam-slamming into your throat- the capped crown of his shaft was entering crevices n’ crannies you hadn’t even known you possessed. All marked out precisely by the silvery orb of his Prince Albert’s.
Just then, after your answer, Choso reaches his left hand up to wrap ‘round your throat - and then hauls you back down to meet his slapping hips.
A thrust even harder than the ones before it.
Your breath gets snatched out of your lungs, dissipating into the heady air filled with the contact-riddled sounds of sex. Hard and fast. Only getting harder the longer you have your ankles looped ‘round his neck—“Not too hard, is it, baby?” Chosos asks you once more.
And you don’t have anything to spit out besides, “Oh f-fuck off.”
He gasps dramatically-
Well, not exactly dramatically. But in a way you knew was fake, and in a way that sends the chat exploding into comments.
The nerd pouts cutely, “Well, that’s not very nice…”
You’re rolling your eyes—right before Choso’s genuinely sending them rolling with his two fingers clamped around your clit. Using the silvery edges of his rings, he runs a few massages that end up with you sobbing and blabbering out your pleasure.
@Curse’swifey: FUCKKKKKKKKKK they’re both so hot. THEY’RE BOTH SO RUINED.
@peepeesarebetterfictional: they both look like they’re gonna cum soon hehe
@bewbsRlife: CUM CUM CUM CUM CUM
Biting back. “I would argue th-that that’s not very nice, either.”
“But m’just trying to make my gorgeous girl cum…” And from where he’d been looming his pretty face above yours, Choso then lets his head droop down between your tits. During his ravenous pace, he’s roverin’ his mouth all over to kiss and suck at your tits, your nipples.
His cold lip ring drags across your left areola- and he catches onto the way you’re shivering. Before Choso then grabs your nipple between his lips n’ hollows his cheeks out sucking—“Promise m’just trying to make you feel- hah, good.” He mutters, slightly muffled. “Promise I just wanna fuck my cock raw if it means making my lifelong crush feel good…”
“Cho- Curse, are you…?” Your eyes widen.
And his own flap droopily a few times, “Hmmm?”
And that proved it.
That proved it.
Because Choso Kamo could be pretending to be a stuttering, panting, blushing mess on your heavenly cunt all he wanted- he could pretend to be pussydrunk out of his mind. But at the end of the day, it was impossible to hide when pretend turned into something…more.
When the cocksure streamer that’d been driving you wild all this time morphs into the contentedly pussy-whipped nerd you expected him to be deep down inside.
His eyes genuinely glazed and blinking longingly.
His hair drenched in sweat.
His skin flushed with need- and only flushing even more fiercely the longer he kept his eyes on you.
Without much ado, you’re throwing your hands around his neck and tuggin’ him as far as he could crane his neck when his entire body feels like collapsing onto you and into your maddening pussy.
Choso pistons his hips slightly upwards to hear the slurp of his Jacob’s Ladder sliding across your walls, and he grooooans—
“Curse, baby…” You hum.
“Mhmmmm?” He replies with half-lidded eyes. Barely focused.
This was the big, bad #1 streamer on C4mBoyfriends? As though sensing your thoughts, Choso’s fingers grow a little more frenzied on your clit. “I need you to cum inside, okay?”
He jolts at the idea- that sinful, sinful idea. Before chuckling, “Never had any other plan, baby.” And then he turns to the camera, “What do you think, fuckers? Think my girl deserves to cum?”
@Fishygurodad: Yes.
@Curse’swifey: YES.
@likezmenpregnant: Yesssss~
@girrrrrrrrrrth: yesyesyes.
@daddytoeknee: Hell yeah-
He’s holding out a little longer to make sure there wasn’t a single ‘no’ in there - and had there been one, you’re sure that Choso would have stopped and edged your incoming orgasm until it was a wave of complete agreement.
Luckily for you, they liked you.
And all he does now is press down harder on your g-spot from inside, lingering, and massage a pretty heart on your clit once more, lingering—before a final, thorough stroke is all it takes for you to hurtle into your second high of the night.
For you to arch your body into his chest, and shutter your eyes. “Ch-Cho…”
Barely a whisper. He’s crashing his mouth into yours to make sure that secret between you two isn’t revealed. And you’re moaning deeply into Choso’s mouth as you cum—“Feels so- oh. It feels so…”
“Mhmmmm.”
Unable to even find the words.
The only thing you can do is riiiiiide out the massive wave of your high. It’s torrential; pure bliss floods your system from head-to-toe, and no matter how much you’re squirming your overstimulated hips, Choso only succeeds in batterin’ away his pierced cock into eeeevery single hidden sweet spot inside of you. The ones that prolonged your bliss and left spikes of euphoria leading up to your brain.
Your cunt clenched so tightly around his cock- almost as though you didn’t want him to even pull out. And Choso’s sweaty head drops once more into the crook of your neck as he cums with a shudder.
The knot between his brows deepening, the bedsheet around his knees bunching up as he surges his body upwards. Almost animalistically.
Choso bottoms out his furious, twitching cock and keeps it there- “Oh, fuck…” It didn’t sound like he was acting once his bawling red divot starts splatterin’ out more milky white wads. Deeep in the back of your pussy, right where your womb was, Choso puddles out his ecstasy in long ribbons. “Oh fuck fuck fuck—fuck. Always knew it’d feel this good.”
Wave upon wave.
Toes curling. Eyes scrunching shut.
If you thought his moans were sensual before, then you weren’t prepared for the ones your pussy was able to drag out of him - ragged and hollow utterances of your name. Over and over like a broken record, like a mantra.
He’s fucking into you to milk them out of his hefty balls- then fucking you again just to pump those webbed wads right back in. From the top of his rotund tip and dooooooown to the tufts of hairs at his base. All nine inches of him being used to stuff you till the brim—
You’re sure your insides look like an utter fuckin’ mess by the time he’s slowing his tattooed hips down ever-so-slightly—still shaking from the aftermath of his orgasm. This was far stronger than anything he’s ever experienced before.
Drunkenly, you’re blinking your eyes up at him. “Always?”
He smiles, “Ever since our first lesson of Film 101.” Admitting, he lovingly wipes off a bit of his cum you were foaming between your pussylips. “You referenced Pride and Prejudice when talking about the best lines of dialogue of all time, and I-I’d been a goner since then.”
“Corny…” You snort. Though you can’t help the flutter of your heart.
“So um- coffee after this?”
“It better be dinner.”
He laughs in agreement. “Also I bought a vibrating piercing the other day and have been dying to try it…”
Your eyes widen.
And once you’re helping him pull out- Choso reaches for the camera and gets a good shot of the cum leaking between your legs. Before you’re both waving at it, “Thank you for joining us, today—this was the most fun I’ve had on stream yet- heh.”
You’re shooting the camera a pretty smile, too.
And Choso kisses the corner of your cheeks, “Until next time. This has been Curse and Movie.”
@girrrrrrrrrrth: holy fuck??
@Curse’swifey: WAIT WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT NO WAY-
@bewbsRlife: HOLD ON-
@CCpervnextdoor: SAY SIKE RN?
@bipplruletheworld: oh my god that’s amazing.
@likezmenpregnant: Oh, a love story for the ages~
@yoyoyoureinmypuss: YOU TWO LOOKING FOR A THIRD??
@Fishygurodad: Damn.
@Fishygurodad: Hmu when he messes up.
@daddytoeknee: Stfu he won’t.
@daddytoeknee: Also I totally called it <3
A/N. I did NOT plan to have me inserted and beefing with Toji Fushiguro but here we are-
Synopsis. Five times that Ryomen Sukuna - most desired man on campus, frat boy extraordinaire, your longtime FWB - would rather sIeep with you than tell you how he feels. And the one time he finally, finally does both.
Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, frat boy!FWB!Sukuna, 5 + 1 things, FWB-to-Iovers, accidentally falling for your FWB, no strings attached, slightly toxic, pIayer!Sukuna, Kuna’s MEAN, denial, distractions, emotionaIIy stunted Kuna, jealousy, hurt + comfort, YEARNING, Choso cameo, Sukuna with tattoos, college wrestler!Sukuna, manhandIing, oraI (fem. rec), p talking, p sIapping, spítting, pússydrúnk Sukuna, spelling, overstím, HEADLOCKS, rough s, tummy buIges, talking you through it, running from it, chokíng, DÚMBlFlCATION, dirty taIk, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight bréeding, confessions, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 16.9k
A/N. Officially my longest fic hehehe- inspired by all the frat!Kuna edits I’ve been seeing on my FYP, bIess all editors.
“You’re obsessed with me.”
Sukuna grins. “Other way ‘round, mama.” He takes his long, languid time swirling around the liquid in his red Solo cup. It was some cheap bottle their new pledges had snagged, and it burned down his throat.
The aftermath was in the way the man stumbles just a little closer towards you. He catches himself with a tattooed hand pressed on the wall above your head. Abs against your core. Caging you. “Other. Way. ‘Round.”
You’re jutting your chin up in challenge, “It isn’t.”
He hums, “Isn’t it?”
“And what makes you so sure of yourself, Ryo?”
He shivers at the sound of your pretty voice. He could almost taste the cherry punch in it, and something about that made him tighten in his pants…“Maybe it’s the drinks talking, but I just know.” Sukuna leans in so close that there was barely a centimeter between you both, between your lips. “And I also know you want me, girlie. Bad.”
Even with your highest heels on, the pink-haired leader of Curses Epsilon (Curses ε, the most sought-after fraternity on campus) seemed to loom above you. Crimson eyes narrowed. Smile predatory. Signature black t-shirt tight.
He always had caught your eye, you had to admit.
C’mon, it was impossible for him not to: a few heads taller than most of the student body, more sculptured, more attractive. You’d heard a rumor that he did modelling down in Shibuya sometimes and you didn’t doubt it. He walked around this very university like he owned it. He probably did.
Sukuna pushes back his cotton-candy locks, and you’re seeing the roots of reddish brown where his undercut was.
The shade was so at odds with the utterly devilish look those tattoos gave him. Even now you could see the ink peaking out at his wrists, his collarbones, his nose bridge. They snaked all over his body. Sensual. And when he slowly dips his head down to kiss the underside of your jaw, you start to wonder just how far those patterns went…
“Oh.” You gasp, grabbing onto his well-built shoulders.
They flex through his thin t-shirt when he’s leaning even closer, and you’re suddenly remembering that he was here on a scholarship for wrestling. The infamous leader of his weight class on your university team. The King of the Court. At least that explained his irresistible build - you wonder whether he was a semi heavyweight? A heavyweight? Did they even have those?
You couldn’t think.
You’re tipping your neck further to the side, and from the edges of your peripheral vision you see the way that Sukuna raises one pink brow- before draaaaagging a line of soft kisses down the side of your throat. Filthy. Fleeting.
You’ve seen that look on him before - it’s the one he’d shoot at admirers that dared to stare too long. That sort of ‘if you want it come and get it’ look. That sort of challenge. Prowling through campus corridors that seemed to shrink whenever his figure waded through, sports bag slung over his shoulder, hair still wet from his shower, you could expect the sports superstar to throw at least ten at a time.
Though you couldn’t really blame them! You suspected that about half the student body - and perhaps even some professors - held a burning fire for Ryomen Sukuna, and the other half simply wouldn’t admit to it.
And just as long as his list of admirers was his roster.
Or so the whispers claimed…‘His latest catch is actually the mother of-’ ‘They say he has five girls at once and they know about it but stay-’ ‘He swings both ways so what I’d give for a chance-’ ‘His longest relationship was two days and that’s because they begged him-’ ‘Stay away.’ ‘Stay away.’ ‘Stay away.’
Stay away.
You didn’t have to be told that to know.
It was an unspoken rule on campus, the lay of the land.
Quite the dichotomy, wasn’t it? Stay away from Ryomen Sukuna, unless he’s the one that approaches you first and then it’ll be like your wildest fever dream, your wettest, and when he finally leaves- well, weren’t you told to stay away?
That’s the way things were. And all any heartbroken ex-companion would get is a few soothing words by the very same people who would turn around and make an example out of you.
‘Didn’t you see what happened to so and so…? Stay away.’
He was like a guilty pleasure that most people knew better of, knew would become an addiction. However, still indulged in anyway.
And so here you were. Cooped up in some dimly-lit frat party, cramped until every breath felt like it was singed with the copious amounts of alcohol around you, surrounded by booming beats and bellowing boys. In nothing but the most sinful dress you’d stowed away for a night just like this. Though you had to give yourself some credit- you didn’t wear this just for Sukuna, that’d only happened to be a happy accident!
In fact, you hadn’t even been expecting to meet him here.
Sure, it was the fraternity that he was the leader of, but Sukuna was always quite the…busy man. To put it lightly.
No—when your friends had urged you into this very party, you’d worn it with the thought of another man in mind. None other than your two-timing, two-toned, two-inched ex Zenin Naoya.
Your relationship was never meant for a happy marriage with two kids and a house that had a picket fence, but the straw that surely broke the camel’s back was about a week ago when you’d sneakily scrolled through his social media likes. And say whatever you want about privacy, but the multiple other girls he was entertaining and the deplorable podcasts about women he’d been secretly listening to let you say whatever you wanted.
And your first words to Naoya afterwards had been that you wanted to break up. Your second had been cussing him out.
Which was why, when Utahime had told you that he’d be attending (likely to try and pick up another poor girl), you’d immediately rifled through your closet for this skimpy dress you knew he’d hate. And still jerk off to later.
Speaking of…how ironic was it that you’d run from one red flag and straight into the arms of another.
The thought mulls lazily in your brain, before it’s quickly overtaken by the feeling of Sukuna resting his hands just over the small of your back. Something stirs carnally at the pit of your stomach, and you don’t think you’ve felt this way for a long time - not even when you were still with your ex.
“Prove it.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself.
He stops, raising those brows of his again.
And you don’t hesitate a single second before looping both arms around Sukuna’s neck and bringing him closer to you. And the hulking man lets you manhandle him as you please, lets your lips whisper just a breath’s distance away from his. In the distance you think you can hear a few gasps, feel a few stares. “Prove that I want you. Badly.”
And Ryomen Sukuna’s realizing that he didn’t need the alcohol, not really.
Not when he was already drunk on you.
His lips are on yours before you can say anything else.
Your first time meeting Ryomen Sukuna ended up with you pushed into the bedroom at his frat house and holding onto the headboard so that it won’t break against the wall. Bang-bang-bang. He’d lifted your trembling hands off of them, eventually, and placed them between your legs to roll over your clit. You don’t think he cared for a single sultry moment if any of his frat brothers happened to hear.
In fact, with the way that he’d been plunging his massive girth between your legs (the rumors really hadn’t exaggerated!) you’d almost wondered if he wanted them to hear. You wouldn’t be surprised.
Sukuna fucked hard, fast.
He made you stupid on his cock and chased his high like an absolute madman- though, that’s not to say he was a selfish lover. No—perhaps for his own ego, you were made to cum at least thrice on his fat, throbbing length.
And after the deed was done he’d rolled over to the side of the bed and tugged off the sticky condom. Discarding of it into the nearby trashcan, Sukuna rifled through his bedside cabinet for some wet wipes.
Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t the type of after-sex cuddles and aftercare, you’d come to learn. As he’d handed them over to you gruffly, and flicked at his lighter to burn up a cigarette.
Taking a deeeep drag of it, he turns towards you and brings his lips so close that you think he might just kiss you—only to puff out a smoky cloud in your face. “Inhale.” You do as he says, and let the fumes burn your throat. The side of his lips were quirking up in a smirk, “Mmm, good.” Sukuna gestures at his walk-in closet, one that you’d been eyeing for the sheer luxury of it when you’d first entered. “Might wanna find a t-shirt in there, your dress is a little…”
You looked at the sad heap of silky fabric on the carpet - torn now. “And whose fault is that?”
“Heh, just go get yourself a t-shirt, girlie.” Sukuna sits back on the headboard, and you’re appreciatively eyeing his half-naked figure. Prominent pecs. Ladder-like abs. Tattoos that stand out against his golden, tannish skin. He’d tugged on a pair of black boxers by now that did nothing to hide the happy trail of dark pink hair that you had your nose pressed up to minute ago. “Or don’t.” He looks at you with a sleazy smile- shit, he’d caught you staring. “I don’t mind.”
“S-sure ya don’t.” You’re managing out, tight.
And almost robotically, you manage to pull yourself onto your wobbly legs and take one step—Sukuna chuckles to himself as you stumble.
With a glare thrown over your shoulder, you walk into his closet. About as large as your entire dorm. Rows upon rows. Shelves upon shelves. Clothes upon designer clothes that made you wonder just how loaded a future professional wrestler is.
There were brands on his shelves that you couldn’t even recognize but knew were high-end simply from looking at their logo. Gawking, you flip past a few hangers - Versace, Burberry, Burberry, Gucci, Loro Piana, Dior, Dior, Dior, Dior-
Eventually, you simply give up to snatch the (hopefully) least expensive thing you could find: a wrestling hoodie with colorful logos on its front and ‘Sukuna’ emblazoned across the back.
The fabric was oh-so-soft in your hands, made of pure cotton that tempted you to tug it on your body as soon as possible. Oh, you’re marveling at the way the ending hem of it reaches well past your torso, engulfing you like some sort of blanket. Experimentally, you’re pulling the hoodie flap over your head and giggling at the way it droops down all the way to your nose. Unable to help yourself, you tug the sleeves up to where your wrists were and press the pink fabric to your nose.
Strawberries.
What a smell for such a guy.
“Fuck-” You’re whispering into the fabric, slightly muffled. The rush you were feeling gets dampened down a bit as you remember where you are, “I’m getting way too ahead of myself.”
When you’re finally walking out of the closet, Sukuna was lounging on his king-sized bed and scrolling through his phone. You take a moment to admire him like this- his long limbs stretched across the mattress, hair still sex-ruffled, your nail marks prominent down his shoulders, hands hugging a pillow to his chest.
He looked as if he was carved by the heavens themselves. Though he fucked like the devil.
He’s flicking his eyes casually your way, eyebrows slightly raising as he takes in your attire. “Nice choice.” Sukuna hums, voice deep with sex. “Didn’t think ya had it in you.”
And then he’s patting the empty side of the bed once more.
More, his eyes said. He wants you even more.
You almost instinctively take a step forwards before-
“Actually-” You start, fighting to keep your words steady. You keep yourself rooted in front of his closet and fidget with your fingers. “Before we do anything more, I wanted to make some things clear.”
“Mn.” He’s turning his phone off with a slight sigh, placing his hand atop his head.
Sukuna says nothing more, and you take it as a signal for you to continue. Taking a deep inhale, “I don’t really do this one-night stand thing often- not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Heartbeat quickening at the way his lazy smile grows, you don’t know why he made you feel the need to explain yourself. “But since we’re-”
“And who says we’re a one-night stand?”
Your heart does something funny with its tempo, “Wh-what?”
He tilts his head as if analyzing you, almost feline with his movement. Sukuna’s pinkish tongue darts out to wet his lips, still sweet with the taste of your pussy. “What if I want two nights? Three? Four? What’re you gonna do then, girlie?”
“Th-then-” You’re clenching your fists—fuck, it made it so hard when he was looking at you like that. “Then you’d have to get tested.”
And that…seems to make him pause.
“What?”
“Then you’d have to get tested, duh.” You’re crossing your arms in front of your chest - oh, it was quite amusing to watch the Ryomen Sukuna scramble for words. And you can’t help the spike of satisfaction, as he so-very-obviously didn’t expect that. “And we’d have to set boundaries. And share schedules. And you’d have to tell me if you meet up with another one of your ‘friends’ so that we can get tested again.”
“…”
“…”
Without warning, he bursts out laughing. “Thorough, aren’t ya?”
He wipes away a tear of mirth from the right side of his face and- c’mon! You honestly didn’t think it was that funny! Sure, you hadn’t had any…arrangements like this before but you couldn’t have been too far off for the requirements?
“What are you-” But as you start to protest Sukuna only guffaws even louder.
“Alright, alright-” He’s raising up a hand as if to tell you to stop before his (well-toned) sides start to split. It’s only once you take a step back and huff n’ puff yourself into silence that the man finally starts to calm down. Looking down at his lap, “Damn- fuck, I’ve never had my boner killed so fast.”
“It’s just the requirements.” You’re grumbling.
“Girl, I might as well cut off all my ah- ‘friends’ as you so-nicely put it and marry you.” Quite dramatic, but alright. You notice that he doesn’t push back against your boundaries, however. Sukuna stares you down, eyes twinkling with something that you couldn’t quite discern. “And what exactly would you like to call our little relationship then?”
“Friends-with-benefits, what else?”
“Mm, I like it.”
“And nothing more- no marrying any time soon.” You shudder when you think of your last failed relationship.
Sukuna grins, “Keh- don’t have to worry about that.”
.
.
.
“Okay-” Utahime slams! all one-thousand pages of Shoko’s anatomy textbook down on the cafeteria table, rattling your trays and making the surrounding students glance at your trio. You’re watching as her glass of orange juice splashes precariously around the rim and inches one watery hand towards the pages of the book. “-spill.”
You’re startling at her sudden interrogation, “What?”
And to your horror, even Shoko puts aside her medical notes to pay full attention to the commotion between her friends. Both of them staring—squarely at you.
“You heard me.” Utahime crosses her arms, “Something’s up with you these days- and we want to know what.”
Shoko nods, sighing the way she did whenever she was assigned a particularly difficult medical case to discern. “Sudden glow about you- likely a mix of estrogen and dopamine boosts, slightly dazed look in your eyes, increased screen time, unconscious smiles, unexplained disappearances at odd times of night.” She taps her pen on her chin, “Science says you have a boyfriend.”
Utahime gasps, “And we haven’t heard about it?” Throwing an arm around a deadpan Shoko, who says nothing when the other girl shakes her to and fro. “We- we, your very best friends since freshman year, haven’t heard about him.”
“So who is it? I’m curious.” Shoko probes.
“Tell us or I cry-”
“It’s no one.” You’re finally managing a choke out, to which you’re met with the most dramatic groans from both your friends. This time, they’re loud enough to garner the attention of over half this section of the cafeteria- and in your peripheral vision, you swear you could feel the intensity of two crimson eyes…
Your eyes flick to the side - and there’s your first mistake.
Utahime gasps, kneeling on the bench to look over Shoko’s head. “He’s there-” Above your frantic pleas for her to just settle down, “Don’t lie, I saw your eyes move! He’s there I just know it-”
You grab onto her dress and start tugging, “Uta, for heaven’s sake just sit- down-”
“Hmmm, the only ones there are Professor Yaga- no. Todo- no. That PhD student, Higuruma- maybe.” As her options dwindle, she sweeps her eyes. “Ijichi- no, eugh. No offense, my dear, it’d just get so troubling to have to peg him all the time.”
You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “U-Utahime, oh my god!” Even Shoko simply lets it happen in amusement.
Until finally, her eyes waft over the group of fraternity brothers that sat tall amongst the rest of the students. She wrinkles her nose at them, “One of the Curses Epsilon boys- no way, you’re smarter than that.”
They were such a boisterous bunch. Murmuring what were most likely innuendos with each other, clapping each other on the backs with guffaws. Almost handsomely stupid the way they kept looking to their pink-haired leader for approval. Occasionally, someone from a neighboring table would walk up to them in an attempt to talk to Sukuna - and the entire table would fall over themselves to erupt in wolf howls.
You were almost thankful for the way Utahime had given you the excuse to stare right at him. The way he’d wave off whichever newcomer, the way he’d roll his eyes at his friends’ antics. You’re realizing that his group was mostly composed of athletes, evidenced by the team jerseys and the trays upon trays of food were wolfing down.
Sukuna, noticeably, wasn’t wearing his wrestling hoodie.
The thought makes something shift at the pit of your stomach.
“Oh my god, it’s one of them-” Utahime’s following your line of sight with something akin to horror, and even Shoko seems to be rapt with an attention that she didn’t ever have in her classes.
Both of them had easily let their eyes slip past the boys, it seems. And it’s only once they saw your lingering gaze, only once they saw that familiar smile across your face, that they’re realizing.
Widened eyes slipping back to the rambunctious table.
You snap your eyes to your purple-haired friend once you register her words, “N-no, wait-”
“You stuttered!” She squeals, and you don’t know whether it’s out of excitement at the gossip or sheer fear. She turns to Shoko, “She stuttered, right? I’m not dreaming? She stuttered?”
Shoko nods, “She stuttered.”
Utahime whirls back to face you, “You didn’t even stutter when you told off that asshole Naoya- thank you for that recording by the way, it was quite the pleasure to listen to.” Shaking her head as if to make herself get back on topic, “Either way, are you or are you not dating one of the Curses Epsilon boys?”
“I am…” You pause, “-not.”
They both groan at your response. Utahime even reaches over the table to shake you by the shoulders, “Tell us- I can- tell- when- you- lie-”
“No- no listen!” You’re defending yourself, swatting away her grabby hands. “I’m really not dating one of them, promise! It’s just…”
Shoko asks, “Just?”
You sigh, there was no getting out of this now. “Remember that party we went to at their house a few weeks ago?” Continuing as they nod, your heartbeat starts to accelerate as you realize you’re getting to the meat of the story. “Right- and remember how I disappeared halfway through the night and told you that Akari dragged me off somewhere?”
Utahime gasps, “I have connected the dots.”
Shoko frowns, “You haven’t connected shit.”
“I’ve connected them.” She replies, “I always assumed you ended up hooking up with someone that night and didn’t think much of it. Now you’re telling me that it was one of them-”
“Keep your voice down!” You plead, “But yes, it was…and the thing is that one night turned into two, two turned into three.” Your skin starts to heat up as you remember just last night when you’d snuck out to be let in through the back door of Curses Epsilon. To be pressed onto all fours and ruthlessly ploughed into- “But look, the point is that now we’re kinda…sorta…friends-with benefits.”
They gasp in unison.
Utahime’s all but standing on the bench once more, “Who is it-”
“Whose dick do I need to cut off.” And Shoko is, too.
You put your face into your hands with a groan as they start listing off names.
“No.”
“Choso?”
“No.”
“Larue?”
“No.”
“Kenjaku?”
“No.”
“It surely can’t be fucking Sukuna-” Both of them look at you, look at the impression on your face. And they turn to each other with serious expressions, “She’s fucking Sukuna.”
There was no use in telling them to keep their volumes down now - people turned their heads your way and started to whisper. You could only imagine what the rumor mill was conjuring up now. Hell, even Sukuna himself casually flicked his head your way in interest.
And you wished you could sink even deeper into your seat.
“Did you see that-” Utahime hisses.
“I saw.” Shoko replies.
And the purple-haired girl reaches over to clasp your hands, “He was giving you that look- oh my god. He looked like he was about to eat you up—” And you think that Utahime is perhaps the only one who’d look over and glare at Ryomen Sukuna the way she did just then, “You know what they say about him, right?”
“I’m well aware.” You breeze off, “It’s nothing serious- just no-strings-attached fun, promise. I could break it off at any time and not feel a thing, and I know the same goes for him.”
Utahime scoffs, “Yeah but it’s not like he’s seeing you that often, right?” A pause. “Right?”
“Well…”
You’d been saved in that very instance by a bzzzz—! in your pocket: a text from the man of the conversation himself. And with a quick apology to your friends (you loved them, you really did, but you supposed that was enough interrogation for the day) and a glance at your calendar to make sure you didn’t have any more classes for the day—you were racing out of the cafeteria.
Followed suspiciously closely by a certain pink-haired wrestling superstar.
You didn’t quite care who saw what or thought what, because a few hours later found you back in your single dorm room.
Fucked stupid.
Sex still hung in the air.
You were sprawled out across your humble single bed, heaving as if you’d just ran a marathon. Head sinking into the pillows. Cunt all drooling with your splashin’ slick. Still reeling from the aftershocks of your multiple highs.
With Sukuna’s athletic stamina, however, he seemed to be barely affected. Taking a light drag of his cigarette (you’re sure the building had a no smoking policy…), he looks over your dorm room with faint interest. Much smaller than his but also much…cozier, you had to admit.
Lived in.
He takes in the polaroids of you and your friends, all the cutesy lights, the columns of books. Sukuna stares hard at one of the pictures above your headboard—it was one of you, Utahime, and Shoko after shotgunning a few beers. On the verge of throwing up.
“Cute- the dorm, I mean. S’nice.” He says, blowing out a streamline of smoke at the photograph. “This purple-haired one s’the one that was screamin’ about us in the cafeteria today?”
“You heard that?” You exclaim.
“Girl, the entire cafeteria and Gakuganji’s senile ass heard y’all.” He rolls his eyes with a grin, “Dunno whether you’re louder then or…” Such a devilish, devilish grin. “-here.”
“Shut up.”
“You certainly didn’t-”
“They threatened to cut off your balls if you broke my heart, y’know.” You don’t quite know why you’re telling him - Sukuna was probably used to the threats of his love interests by this point. You’re turning to your side and facing him, trying not to shiver at the way his eyes glide appreciatively down your exposed body. “Not that there’s gonna be anything at stake to break.”
“Of course.”
“Of course.”
“And what if?” He asks you, to which you only look at him in confusion. Sukuna takes his sweet time puffin’ on his cigarette once more before satiating your curiosity, “What if I break your heart?”
You think about it for a little bit, “I won’t cut off your balls.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll cut off your entire dick and feed it to you myself.”
The cigarette falls from his hands and onto your carpeted floor- which Sukuna hastens to put out with an uncharacteristic yelp. You guessed wrestling scholarships didn’t cover burnt-down dorm rooms, and you have to stifle a giggle at his actions.
“You-” He pants out, finally looking up after picking the scorched nub between his fingers and throwing it into your trashcan. Almost glaring those rosy eyes down at you, “You think you’re soooo funny, huh, mama?”
You chuckle, “I do.”
“Well, yer lucky you’re cute.” He grumbles to himself, at least- you think that’s what he grumbles to himself. Because the moment you’re looking at Sukuna in slight surprise, he turns his head.
You see nothing but the sharp edge of his jawline, those high cheekbones, the tips of his ears that were flushed with…the sex? Surely? Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, Sukuna brings a hand up to cover them under the pretense of scratching his sweaty undercut. “Never met anyone with this much fuckin’ audacity.”
You yelp, “H-hey!”
“Hey yerself.” And then he’s heaving himself up and digging underneath your own fucking bed as if it was his. How strange, this familiarity. The two of you had only known each other for a few weeks (though you had to admit you had spent considerable hours together) and here Sukuna was rifling through your room like nothing - you just wasn’t sure whether that was a him thing or…He’s finally pulling out—
“That- that’s my rose toy?!”
“Yeah, let’s give ‘er a spin.”
.
.
.
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Itadori Jin’s voice echoed out from the other line, almost reaching a fever pitch in defensiveness.
Sukuna rolls his blush-red eyes, he’d been standing outside this godforsaken café on a call with his brother for what felt like hours now. With you inside and waiting. All warm. All…fucked-out—anyway! The point was that you were inside all comfortable, and he was a hulking figure looming outside some frilly café grumbling profanities underneath his breath.
In his defense, it was after one of your ‘hangouts’, alright!
It was just another day with you. After he’d pumped deep into your lungs, Sukuna just-so-happened to hear your stomach rumble in hunger. And he was the one to have suggested taking a stroll down to the lil’ café down the block. It was packed with college students, and he didn’t really care who saw - besides, bearing through the gaudy interior theme and re-play of music certainly not his taste was almost bearable for the pleasant surprise in your ears.
And the refueling, of course. The main reason he was taking you here was because (surprise, surprise!) a house full of college men didn’t quite have the nutrition needed to last a few more rounds. And Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t done with you just yet.
He just didn’t expect to have been assaulted by a phone call from his older brother the very second he’d taken a step inside. And Sukuna had told you to find a seat for the two of you, deciding to take the call outside. He knew his brother wouldn’t give up if he declined the call.
They always were alike, Sukuna and Jin.
Sure, maybe not in personality - Jin was always a bit of a goody-two-shoes, though he could hold his own in a fight. Sukuna was the one everyone said they had to watch out for.
The one that didn’t get invited to birthday parties by fearful parents, the one picked last during team sports because they said he’d start a brawl, the one visited only by his brother and his father the first time he’d ended up in the ER after a fight, the one who only had those two to cheer at his wrestling matches. Only ever those two.
Whatever.
Same rosy hair.
Same features (for the most part, at least. Sukuna’s constant trips to the gym and the ER had resulted in him having a rather more rugged look than his twin).
Same stubbornness.
They’d ended up going to different universities, with Jin attaining a scholarship for marine biology a few hours away. Which meant that family functions weren’t quite as frequent as they used to be, but he could still hear it in the man’s voice - that stubbornness.
It made the younger of the two brothers feel the heat creeping up on the back of his neck, slightly squirming as Jin admonished him—“I’m just saying that you sound happier than usual-”
“Jin.”
“And that’s a good thing!” He could practically envision the bespectacled man throwing his hands in the air, trying to hold back his smile. “Hell- Ryo, it’s a wonderful thing! You finally have someone making you happy! You’ve finally met someone special! You finally have someone in your life-”
“I don’t have trouble getting around.” He grumbles, and—well. Ryomen Sukuna isn’t quite the type to explain himself, but with his brother…
“Ryo.”
“Alright, alright!” Sukuna bursts out, and a mother nearby grabs her child by the hand and speedwalks away. “Alright, I haven’t met up with anyone else! I’ve cut off all of my ah- friends, for lack of a better word.” He could hear the smug hum of his brother, “But that’s not because it’s special or anything, it’s just because…”
Jin urges, “Go on…?”
“Because s’just convenient, alright?” He’s finally answering, “S’too much of a hassle to get fuckin’ tested after each one, so I might as well only have her in my life- ah wait, fuck, I didn’t mean it like that-”
“I knew it.” Comes the squeal, “Listen, Ryo, I just don’t want your stubbornness to get in the way of something special-”
“And I don’t want to hear yer voice- goodbye, old man.”
The ringing tone to denote that the call has ended is much more soothing than his brother’s voice, he decides. And he takes a few deep breaths before tucking his phone back in his pocket- turning it on silent mode.
He turns around to step inside and—there you are.
Dressed in that hoodie of his that he’d forgotten to take back from you. The air of someone that’d just been properly fucked. Through the glass, he sees you staring at the other people outside. He strays his gaze himself to see what you see- you’re chuckling at that little boy who skips along the pavement, you gasp at the delivery driver with a stack of boxes who almost trips, you coo at the elderly couple walking their dog. Hand-in-hand.
Sukuna looks down at his own empty hands.
Scarred and calloused.
Before he’s reaching his dominant one upwards and pushing open the swinging café doors. You look up from the booth you’d chosen for yourselves as he enters, waving him in the right direction. It was one by the window, he notices, though in the very corner of the place as if you’d wanted to hide yourself away.
Perhaps hide the two of you away.
Hm…Sukuna thinks, rubbing at his chest. And thrusting both hands into his pockets, he’s sauntering right up to you.
He’s not blind to the stares he garners from some of the other customers, and though any other time he might have thrown a stray wink or two - and honestly, nothing was stopping him now - he simply sides into the seat opposite you. “Sorry ‘bout that, mama- emergency calls.”
“Emergency?” You raise your brows in amusement, peering at the man opposite you as if you were analyzing every inch of him. And he almost couldn’t believe that just a few minutes ago, you’d been shaking and whining underneath him. “I don’t know anyone named ‘Emergency’ at our school.”
“Goes to another school.” He quips, knees bumping against yours as he stretches them out underneath the table. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous, girlie~”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
In almost no time, the waitress is bounding up to your table and jotting down your orders. He orders his coffee black, no sugar—and you roll your eyes at him.
The older woman then coos down at the little interaction, “Oh, you know we’ve got a special offer just this week in honor of our upcoming fifth anniversary? 100% off on all desserts for couples!” Her eyes wrinkle beautifully at the edges, “Would you two perhaps be…”
You open your mouth, “Oh, we’re actually-”
“Completely in love.” Sukuna interrupts you casually, his large hand settling over yours on top of the table. “Maddeningly. We’ll take one of everything for the lady and a strawberry shortcake for me, thanks.”
“Oho, you two.” She chuckles, walking off. “Ah, young love~”
You watch as she leaves—and snap your head towards Sukuna so fast that you think you may have gotten whiplash. “You-”
“It’s for the offer, don’t overthink it.” He lets go of your hand and crosses his arms. You almost miss the heat of it - was the air conditioning in this place too high? You’re sinking your hands into the sleeves of your- his hoodie, and Sukuna’s slouching in his seat. “Take it home- all the desserts, share it with your friend or whatever. It’s for you, anyway.”
“Right.” You’re not quite sure what to say- “Thank you?”
It’s a rather long and awkward silence that follows.
You attempt to break it by grasping for some shred of conversation, “So ah- is everything alright?”
He raises a pink brow in question.
And you don’t know how he manages to do it - how he manages to make your veins bubble and bolt inside of you with just a single look. “The ah- the call, I mean.” You’re squirming in your seat at his half-lidded gaze, so intense. He always looked at you with this certain fire, whether in bed or…here. “You were just out there for so long, I hope it wasn’t anything serious.”
He rests his chin on one hand and tilts his head, “Not worried about me, are you? If it was anything serious?”
“And if I was?”
“You shouldn’t.”
To which you furrow your brows in confusion, “What do you mean? Of course I’d care if something bad happened to you.”
Sukuna only holds your gaze, his expression unreadable.
He reaches a hand down his chest - right over his heart - and lightly rubs that spot. Finally looking away from you, the frat leader answers. “No- no, it’s nothing serious. Just a…friend.”
“I see.” You still.
“You said I could still have ‘friends’, right?” He asks, a note in his voice that was imperceptible. Sukuna looks at you with a meaning that you didn’t fully understand, and you’re realizing that the two of you had been leaning over the table for quite some time. “Or has that changed?”
It seems like an age before you break his eye contact, “Nothing has changed.”
Sukuna leans back in his seat, “I see.” There’s silence between you both once he reaches into his pocket and starts scrolling absent-mindedly through his phone. “Then yeah- it was a friend that called. I’ll get tested afterwards though, don’t you worry that pretty head of yours over it.”
“Good.”
A few more minutes of silence.
He can’t bear it. “Lemme eat you out in the bathroom as an appetizer before our food?”
“Be quick.”
.
.
.
“Truth or dare! Truth or dare! Truth or dare!” Utahime chants, jovial words slurring into a nearly-incomprehensible mess as she claps her hands. Messily, she’s pulling you and a few others into a haphazard circle on her bedroom floor.
All cooped up in a room that was decidedly not designed to hold this many people. The air dimmed with LED lights and cheap alcohol. Bass thumping throughout the bones of her apartment - it was a small get-together that’d turned into a large get-together that’d turned into friends of friends of friends both invited and uninvited
You swear you’d seen a few graduates sneak themselves onto the living-room-turned-dance-floor before you were being pulled into her room by your inebriated friend. One who, as the host, was deciding what the game of the night would be. “Truth or dare!”
Pronouncing, more like.
Shoko rolls her eyes, “Your ability to turn into a twelve-year-old when you’re drunk both fascinates and abhors me.”
“Jokes on you I don’t know what that word means.” Utahime sticks her tongue out, to which most of the group giggles.
“But seriously- are we twelve?”
“Fine…” Utahime grumbles, and clicks her fingers as if happening across a sudden epiphany. “Dare or drink, then!” She’s peering towards Shoko with a smug smirk, “How’s that for all adult and mature, hm?”
“That’s almost worse.”
You’re taking the opportunity to sweep a look at the (likely) players: some more of your friends, Ijichi, Haibara, Higuruma from the PhD students, a few sweet sorority girls, some strangers, one Curses Epsilon member-
Your eyes widen as you take in the long-haired man—Choso, you believe his name was.
He catches you staring and smiles at you shyly, an expression that you hope you’re returning without it looking too much like a shocked grimace.
You’d seen this very man around Sukuna sometimes, and he seemed to be one of the quieter amongst the bunch. Below Sukuna in terms of rank, certainly, they seemed to have an almost brotherly relationship that stood out to you when you looked at the group. And, listen! It’s not that you didn’t realize a member of his fraternity could attend parties - in fact, Curses Epsilon was synonymous with parties.
So you should have expected this. So you should have been prepared for this.
But the fact that he was here…a part of you couldn’t help but wonder whether that meant Sukuna was here, too…
What that meant he was doing…
Who…
You’re startled out of your little reverie by a call of your name- and to your horror, you’re realizing that you’d been staring right at Choso. The man was squirming before you, his ears tinged just the slightest rosy shade.
Heart thundering at your throat, you look away and turn back to Utahime. Slightly breathless, “Wh-what?”
“You’re up first!”
She’s pointing down at the carpeted floor, which had a glinting vodka bottle in the middle that’d been spun, it seems. Its transparent circular nozzle stares you down in an almost-accusing way and makes you shift uncomfortably—you didn’t even know that they’d begun spinning bottles yet. And whoever was to fall victim to the end of its vermicular spine was the first up for their dares.
And it just-so-happened to be you.
You gape, “I-I…”
“C’mon, c’mon! You can’t back out now-” Utahime taps her chin and pretends to think, “I dare you to—”
“Fucking hell…” You already know that this wasn’t going to end up well for you.
And just as you expected, her eyes slide over to meet another pair of eyes—dark, doe-like eyes that had been fixated on you ever since you’d been fixated on them. Subconsciously or not. She smiles as she drinks in the sheer intensity that Choso had been staring at you with, “I dare you to make out with the person sitting opposite you for ten seconds.”
Your brows furrow, “Sitting opposite…” Eyes lifting up to meet—his. “Oh.”
“Oh.” Choso’s pink lips part, the tips of his ears furiously red.
And there’s a few seconds of silence- between you two, but not the drunken students that surround you two. They erupt into cheers and wolf whistles, ribbing at a quiet Choso Kamo to get on with it.
As you stare, stunned, he peeks up at you through his long lashes. “W-would you mind?” His quiet voice was almost inaudible.
“I…don’t.” You find yourself answering, mouth moving faster than your brain can compute.
And before you know it, you’re rising to your feet and making your way to the middle of the circle. Those dark eyes widen as you draw nearer- so different from the red ones that you were used to.
Something in your stomach clenches, and you feel a strange buzz zing! throughout your entire body. You’re not sure whether you like it or not.
Choso himself starts to get closer to you, and your pulse quickens at his closing proximity. His eyes turn half-lidded as they flick to your lips and back up to your face, like he was making sure that you were okay with this. Tentative. Almost…shy. You’re admiring the tousled look of his hair, that tremble of his lips, and the way his eyeliner makes him look so soft.
You wanted to run. You wanted to kiss someone. You wanted to run. “I- I really don’t.”
Choso kisses you.
For a beat. Two.
One of his ringed hands snake upwards to grip the column of your throat, and you’re parting your lips with a moan! Fuck, you were getting wet. Just in time for him to slip in his tongue and-
CRASH! THUD!
You’re wincing at the rush of light that assaults your retinas, and as you slowly blink back your vision- you realize that there were tears in them. Because of what, you’re not too sure. But you chalk it up to the harshness of the light as your eyesight clears back up.
And then you’re seeing—oh, it couldn’t have been a figment of your imagination.
You’d never mistake that cotton-candy hair anywhere.
Sukuna was on Choso, with the other man sprawled out on the ground and the rugged wrestler on top of him. Chest heaving. Skin flushed. A vein throbbing at his neck. His entire body was rigid and honed for a fight that he knew he was going to win. He had one tattooed hand gripping the front of Choso’s shirt, and the other pulled back mid-punch.
A punch that he was frozen in.
A punch that clearly hadn’t landed yet.
From what you’re surmising of the situation, Sukuna had pulled the other man off of you by his collar. From what you’re surmising of the situation, he was all but about to attack the other man just because he was kissing—
“Ryo.” You’re starting, a hand reaching out as if to stop the fight yourself.
Any and all floatiness from the liquor had now completely dissipated from your body, and you were only left coiling in thick, unyielding tension. Surprisingly, your voice doesn’t waver. “Don’t do anything fucking stupid or god help me-”
Almost as if jolted to life by the sound of your voice, Sukuna lets go of Choso in a single, jerky movement.
Though he doesn’t speak - and you’re almost thankful for it, you don’t know what you’d say to him. Instead you’re breaking out of your little trance and pushing aside Sukuna—yes, pushing him to the side so that you can get to Choso.
Stunned, he lets you move him.
He always has.
With both hands gently placed upon either side of Choso’s handsome face, you’re inspecting him for any injuries. He flushes slightly at your touch. And - tactfully - no one nearby says a single word about it. “I’m- I’m alright.” Choso says, his tone slightly hoarse.
But you don’t give up until you’re completely and utterly sure that he’s okay. “Hm, well alright.” Finally letting up, you start to move yourself- and only then do you realize that you’d been straddling Choso’s hips. Hurrying to scramble off, “O-on behalf of him, I apologize.”
You’re lightly bowing and he stops you with a hand at your shoulder- only to glance at Sukuna and let you go as if you burned. “No, no! It’s my fault for not knowing-”
“Don’t worry.” You spare a glance at Sukuna, who had his eyes downcast and his expression revealing nothing. “There’s nothing to know.”
And that…that makes the Ryomen Sukuna flinch—
As if he’d just been stabbed.
As if the temperature in the room had dropped to freezing.
As if you’d plunged your hand right through his ribcage and torn out his heart.
But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at his point. “Again- I’m so sorry.” Turning back to Choso, who’d been watching the exchange with side eyes - right along with half of the party that’d turned up from the living room now at the whispers of a commotion here. Especially one with the wrestling star—and over a girl at that! “And about that ah…” You gesture at his hips…the ones you’d been straddling.
Choso blushes even deeper, waving his hands in front of him frantically. “No- no, I didn’t mind! I mean- I mean, it’s alright and you don’t need to apologize! But you didn’t need to apologize anyway because I didn’t-”
“Man.” Shoko rests a hand on his shoulder, “Stop talking.”
He immediately clicks his jaw shut.
The next thing you’re doing, you don’t even know if you even fully thought it through. Because one second you’re standing up—and the next you’ve got your hand wrapped around Sukuna’s waist—and the next you’re dragging him through the packed party—
Through the crowd that turns their head to look at your unlikely duo, that turns their head to watch the gruff leader of the wrestling team be led out as if he was a naughty child.
Sukuna lets you take a few steps out of the apartment’s front door, before he’s halting in his tracks and gripping onto your waist instead. Not hard enough that it hurts, not gentle enough for you to be diverted anywhere but his one-track destination to…well, you weren’t quite sure.
“Ryo- I mean, Sukuna—” You squeal as your heels click-clack! down the stairs. You don’t pull yourself free from him, because you know he would let you. “Sukuna, I demand to know where we’re going-”
“There’s nothing to know.”
Your stomach drops.
It’s the last thing he says. The only.
And you can only follow as Sukuna draaaags you out into the night-lit street, cars lining the pavements like the straps of lingerie on a faceless body. An outstretched. A ready.
You’re recognizing the gleaming black body of his new Audi in an instant - you would anywhere, to be honest. It took up about half the street. Imposing, just like him. It always did make your heart skip a beat to see it parked outside whatever rager you were attending for the night. Just as soon as you’re registering the car, you’re having your back pushed up against it-
“What are you-” You gasp out, before his lips are on yours.
Furious. Feral. Fighting to open them roughly with his own mouth, he’s taking a single look at your prettily parted lips and spiiiiitting straight onto your tongue- before stuffin’ it with his own tastebuds, just in the way that Choso was about to mere minutes early.
You muffle out, “M-mmpf- Sukuna!”
“Ryo.” He rasps, blindly unlocking the door and pushing you into the spacious backseat. “You know m’always your Ryo.”
That night he fucks you harder, faster than any time before.
As if he was claiming every inch of you.
And you don’t end up going home for the night—no, you end up at Sukuna’s instead. And if he made you moan his name even louder than usual, well, it’s only in the morning that you realize that Choso’s bedroom was right next door.
.
.
.
Ryomen Sukuna had flowers—
An entire bouquet of red roses that he’s sure the florist ripped him off for - surely something grown out of the dirt couldn’t be that expensive?! But he did have to admit that it looked wonderful taking up more than half of his backseat—the very same backseat he’d fucked you senseless in not too many nights ago.
The two of you hadn’t seen each other properly since Utahime’s party.
What with his wrestling practices for the upcoming tournaments, and your finals rounding the corner. It’s honestly by sheer miracle that Coach Kashimo had cancelled today’s training for some reason or the other (he honestly didn’t look too closely, merely glancing at the email before driving to the nearest florist whilst texting you to ask whether you were free). And, well, here he was…
So fucking pathetic in his excitement to meet you that he’d forgotten the damned flowers in his car!
Sukuna hopes that they weren’t wilted as he struggles to put on his ripped jeans, discarded on your bedroom floor right along with the rest of his clothes. He’s looking around frantically for his t-shirt, when you glance over at him from the bed.
And he doesn’t see the flicker of hurt in your eyes.
“Leaving so soon, Ryo?”
“Uh huh.” He’s absent-mindedly responding—where the fuck where his socks? Did he even need socks just to go down to his car-
You bite down on the inside of your cheek, “Another appointment?” Another person, is what you really wanted to ask, but…
“Something important that I forgot.” Sukuna replies, looking underneath your bed and ah- there they were. He feels you sitting up on the bed, blanket clutched to your naked chest, as he sits on the mattress with his back turned and finishes dressing up. “Fuckin’ hell, can’t believe I even came up here forgetting-”
“Right.” Your tone was clipped.
“Should’ve gone down the second I remembered but-”
“Should have.”
“Because it’s mad urgent-”
“More than me.”
“I just got a little distracted, y’know?” The pink-haired man glances over his shoulder with a teasing smirk, slightly frowning at the way you turn your head away from him. Hm…he attempts to lighten the mood, “S’all your fault, girlie~”
“Sukuna.”
And that makes him slightly wither in on himself. That tone. That name. Trying to get a good look at your face, he leans towards you. “What’s wrong…?”
“I think we should end this.”
Everything.
Everything was wrong.
Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t fight your decision, Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t try to get you to explain. He lets your words sink into his being like a pebble cast out in the vast and unceasing Blue—and he lets them fester within him just as mysteriously.
He’s walking out of your dorm a hollow man.
Right up to his car, he’s taking automatic steps. Where he flings the door open and grips the bundle of stems of those- of those fucking roses.
He wants to destroy them.
Sukuna’s hand trembles as he raises them high in the air to chuck- before his peripheral vision features two familiar faces. Unbreathing, he’s turning his head jerkily to the side and staring at them—matching crows’ feet, a slow hobble, the slightly hoarse laughter between a whispered conversation. A vision so private that he almost wants to look away, he didn’t know how you did it.
It scares him how quickly he recognizes the elderly couple to be the exact same one you’d been admiring from afar that one day at the café.
It scares him.
Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t know why he hands his heartbreak bouquet to the old couple that day. But he does remember one thing - the delighted smiles on both their faces, the way the old man had so-clearly wanted to hold the blushing, beautiful flowers. But he’d given them to his wife anyway.
Seeing the young man staring, the old man had winked.
A knowing smile on his face.
“Oh dear, oh dear.” To which the sweetly older woman had reached down to pluck! two blossoms from the bouquet. And without hesitating, she’d tucked one behind her husband’s ear—and then beckoned Sukuna to lean down to tuck the last one behind his. Rosy red against lovely pink.
His eyes widen as her slightly roughened hands cup his cheek.
Humming with a smile, “You are so easy to love, my dear.”
Something in him breaks a little at that very moment.
And Ryomen Sukuna drives the entire four hours it takes him to drive to Itadori Jin’s university, to damn-near bang down his apartment door.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK—!
“I’m coming, I’m coming! Jeez…” His older brother’s familiar voice - stubborn, so stubborn just like his calls out from inside the apartment. He doesn’t care that it’s 2AM and Jin’s neighbors would be complaining, right now he just…really needed his big brother.
He can hear the footsteps get even closer. “Who the hell is it at this time- I swear if it’s rent then I already paid it two weeks ag-”
The door clicks open.
Jin’s face freezes in surprise—before it’s dropping at the look on Sukuna’s face.
“Oh, Ryo.”
His arms are around the taller man’s instantly.
And if Itadori Jin felt his sweater drench where Sukuna’s face rested, then he doesn’t say a word about it.
“What did I tell you about keeping your someone special, Ryo?”
.
.
.
It’s the next day when you’re waking up to an incessant knocking at your door.
It pounds like the headache you’d been sporting all night.
And you’re getting up, your eyes swollen - not just from sleep (in fact, you don’t think you slept a single wink all night) - and your movements all sluggish. Looking down, you realize that your pyjamas- Sukuna’s wrestling hoodie, was still drenched in tears. Your blinks were heavy. You felt a mess.
You barely even wanted to get out of your bed, and you don’t think you would have had it not been for the sheer ferocity of the knocks.
Were they trying to break down your damn door?!
“C-coming!” You’re coughing out, sure you had a doorbell that was going unused. Disgruntled, you’re unlocking the door and reaching for the doorknob. “Jeez, Uta, I swear this isn’t really a good time if you’re going to-”
The first thing you see is red.
Red.
Red.
Red roses.
Bouquets of it lined every inch of your dorm’s corridor, as far as your eye could see, some even piled on top of each other, the largest held between Ryomen Sukuna’s trembling hands.
And the second thing you see is, well, red again.
The blush that dusts his handsome face, rivalling his pinkish locks. Sukuna takes a half-step forwards- before he seems to think better of it and lurches right back. His thick brows furrow in sincerity, as if he just wanted to make you feel his words— “I love you.” He pants, as if he’d just run here. And it feels like all the breath has been knocked out of your lungs. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you-”
“Oh, Ryo.”
And it’s all the confirmation Sukuna needs to let the bouquet in his hands drop down to the floor. Rustling. Letting the blossoms be replaced with something that is, to him, far more beautiful.
He crushes you so tightly into his embrace that you almost can’t breathe - nothing but the soft strawberry scent that engulfs you whole. And you almost don’t think you need to. Not right now. “I love you.”
“You idiot.” You choke out, “You idiot- you’re so- fucking- stupid.” You punctuate your words with punches to his chest, which makes it rumble with a chuckle. “And I’m even more stupid because I…”
“Yes?” Breathless.
“I love you even more, Ryo.”
He sighs with his entire soul and collapses in on his world—you.
A few minutes later.
What feels like absolutely no time later.
You’re finding your back laid flatly against your single bed - a humble compartment in your dorm room. But now it had you sprawled out across it and reaching for your rickety headboard to hang onto dear life, Sukuna kneeled at the foot of the bed and clawing at your tear-stained sweatpants.
Pulling at it.
Tearing through it.
Your whines intermingle with the rip-rip-riiiip of fabric once he’s exposing your naked legs. You were wearing nothing underneath it, and Sukuna’s fucking groaning as he opens up your thighs to take the heavenly sight in-between.
“Fuh-fuck…” You swear you see a line of glittering drool fall down the side of his mouth, one that Sukuna’s gulping back as soon as it comes. “Holy fuck, sweetheart, how do you look even tastier every time I see ya?”
You’re huffing, unable to stop yourself. “Maybe you’re just mixing me up with-”
“Don’t say that.” And though his voice was quiet, it was stern. It meant every word he was saying, “Never say that.”
Gliding his roughened hands down the tender inner parts of your thighs- you’re shivering as you feel every line and callus from his palms. Remnants of wrestling. The softness of holding you. It makes something in your heart lurch, “I-I just-”
“You don’t need to explain yourself.” Sukuna looks away with a light blush as he cuts you off, “But I do. We have much to talk about…but the one thing I need you to know is that ever since I met you, I have never, and will never, so much as look at anyone else.”
“Ryo—” You whimper, feeling the thick crowned edges of his thumbs inch towards your drippin’ core.
“And I want you to know that m’yours.” He nudges his handsome head closer, until he could breathe in the sultry scent of your pussy. You could feel the cold breeze of his inhale- “Soul…and body.”
And then he’s lavishing his loooong tongue out to lick a wet stripe at your clothed pussy.
Sluuuuuurp—! Such a greedy taste of your cunt. Before Sukuna’s drawing his muscle back in just to do it all over again - flick after flick where you were most tender. With the tip of his tastebuds he’s outlining your glistening crevice, and pinpointing them right where the knob of your clit was located.
You’re twitching as you feel him enter his lengthy tongue juuuust underneath the drenched fabric of your panties, before fishing it back out whenever he feels he got too close to your pussy.
“P-please-” You’re grabbing onto Sukuna’s head of pink hair, trying to move him even closer. “Want you even closer- stop teasing now.”
He rolls his eyes rudely, “Teasing? You think this is me teasing, sweetheart?” And before you can register it, he’s reeling his tongue all the way back into his mouth. Leaving your poor cunt all throbbing and completely untouched. “This is me teasing.” As you buck your hips pathetically with the desire for his ridged texture, “What I was doin’ earlier was just savoring, mama.”
You throat was thick with need, “But- but what is there to savor-”
“What the fuck are ya talking about?” One of his pink brows raise.
“I mean-” You hasten to explain, your entire body radiating pure heat and need. “You’ve already had me like this before-”
“Oh—” And suddenly, the most lecherous smile plasters across his attractive face - already slicked with copious amounts of wadded slick that sticks to him like some sort of adhesive. “Girlie, you don’t even know the half of what m’capable of.”
And before you know it—Sukuna’s rugged fingers come down to spank! right on top of your pussylips.
Before you know it, he’s clasping the side of your ass cheeks and flipping you right over as if you weighed nothing more than a feather. With one finger hooking onto your panties- you can distinctly sense when the wrestler seems to think better of it and instead bites his pearly white canines down on your soaked underwear.
You’re muffling out with your face pushed into your pillows, “Wh-what are you-”
Before he’s teeeeeeearing your panties right down with nothing but his mouth.
Exposing your quivering pussy all for him to see, smearin’ apart your folds with both his thumbs. He takes a few seconds to admire the slick that splashes out of your entrance, before spitting vertically down your slit.
Simply to add onto the mess.
It’s the only warning you’re getting before Sukuna completely surges in and shoves himself nose-deep between your puffy folds. Just the tip of his nose drags down the middle of your cunt from behind, and before you know it- his tongue is zig-zagging at your hole wiiiiiildly—
He’s like a madman. He’s like a man starved.
Gulping at the excess of your leaking sap and then munching himself even close to lap at the dewdrops of slick just about to fall out of you. They don’t even have to be pouring out of you for your greedy Sukuna to be gluing himself to your cunt.
Shovelling his tongue even deeper.
And when your tight orifice can’t take any more of him, he’s grunting out into your cunt and spitting.
“Fuck.”—He’s clenching his jaw and spitting out once more at the slight resistance of your hole. Just the way that Sukuna’s wet muscle was oh-so-thick, and he kept having to pry apart your pussy folds even further just to inch inside. Until you’re shivering at the feeling of his knobbly tastebuds dragging down your walls, “C’mon c’mon c’mon- just fucking take it my girl, I know you want to.”
“I swear your tongue got even bigger, Ryo-”
Your velvety walls close in on him, keeping his slippery tongue hostage while he only tries to ebb even deeper. He’s clenching his jaw at the slight resistance of your tight hole. “S’only been a day and she’s forgotten me this much?”
Fisting at the pillows, “I didn’t, it’s just you’re too big.”
“Appreciate the flattery, mama.” You could feel his grin against your softened flesh. “But it’s my fault.”
Instinctually, you’re raising your head off of the spit-drenched pillows to ask just what he meant-
“But I guess I hafta eat her out so she remembers this time, hm?”
But you didn’t have to ask for the answer.
You didn’t even have to think—honestly, you don’t think you can even, well, think by the time he’s got a hold of you.
Because Ryomen Sukuna was going to do well on his promise—Ryomen Sukuna was going to do well on all his promises.
He was latching one ruthless hand onto the side of your hips and manhandling your hips to start gyratin’ down onto his open maw. Angling you in just the right position so that his swollen lips can latch onto your throbbing clit-
“Bet’cha didn’t know that m’a good multitasker.” He’s gurgling out, wads of slick n’ spittle clogging up his throat. And the thing was—Sukuna didn’t care how much he had to suffocate on your pussy, he fucking loved that shit.
“I-I don’t think I did.” You’re replying.
“And bet’cha didn’t know that I- fuck, I can reach in so deeeeeep.” The large muscle of his tongue swipes in so deeply inside of you- you can’t even fully comprehend whether he’d plunged inside all the way up to his chin because of how dumb he was fucking you.
Rough, hard strikes at all your most delicate spots inside.
Finishing off with the most sinful noises - it’s like the deeper he gets, the louder those noises get. “Bet’cha didn’t know that I r-reach yer- hah, g-spot this fast, hm?”
You’re furrowing your brows. Sure, you were slowly getting more and more dazed on his cock - but surely you weren’t that mindless that you wouldn’t notice? “Wait, but I don’t think you ever actually—oh.”
And then you’re feeling it.
And you’re realizing that Sukuna had timed it precisely for the middle of your sentence, when he can hear the effects of you stumbling and falling apart on his very tongue.
Mazing all the way inside as if searching for treasure, his thorough inches are spreading out your walls so well. Not leaving a single crevice unturned, a single drivelling orifice, a single bundle of nerves- that he’s honing in on and darting straight against.
Pushing down on the area of your g-spot, you’re suddenly jolted by the electricity of your pleasure. He snickers, “There it is.”
Crying out, “Th-that’s just mean, Ryo.”
“Th-th-that’s just mean.” Mocking, in a lilting pitch that was most certainly not reminiscent of your own. With a tough roll of his eyes, he’s only unfastened his maw to take you even deeper from behind. “Bet’cha didn’t know that I could be meeeeean—fuckin’ meaner than you even even thought.”
“I-I think I know too well.” Or so you claim - but shit, Sukuna had never eaten you out like this before.
With his pointed chin jutting against the base of your treacly cunt, and his nose curving against your slit. Sukuna isn’t just thrusting his tongue inside you, he’s also making sure to flick and linger his tastebuds into any orifice he knew you were fragile at.
Again. Probing.
Again and again and again.
And with a smug chuckle, Sukuna claims. “Bet’cha didn’t know that I could go reeeeeal fast.” Until you’re hanging your head down to stare between your slick-sheened legs and all you could see was a pink blur intruding at your folds. “Or reeeeeeal slow.”
“F-fuck, that feels so good.” Your back arches into the perfect curvature when his velveteen tongue starts slowing down into an agonizing pace.
It was just so slow that you could feel each line and crevice of his rows of tastebuds, and just so thorough that speckles of your syrup were darting from your orifice and splattering! down onto the mattress. It starts forming a puddle on the sheets beneath you- one that Sukuna was certain not to go to waste.
His free hand skids down the insides of your thighs, layering his fingers in a thin glaze of your pussy’s slick. And whence his fingertips were all done and coated, the pink-haired man was raising them up to his mouth and sucking the sweetness off.
Not. A. Single. Drop. Wasted.
With a groan, he’s not letting his time go to waste, either. And he’s back funneling your snug channel with his tongue—in and out, in and out, in and out. “Take yer pick- s’all for you, mama.”
“Sh-shit, but I like both.” You didn’t even know whether he was talking to you or your pussy by this point - but you were too gone on his tongue to even care. Slightly bucking your hips into his mouth, “But I- ngh, do like it a bit better when you go…faster…”
A sudden spank down on your clit once more, “Atta girl.”
Nose pressed up against your slit, tongue lashing ruthlessly inside.
Ruthlessly.
If you thought you were ruined on the movements of his tongue just earlier, then this sudden sloppy cadence has you seeing fucking stars.
The gooey end of his tongue swabs against every tender spot at your innards, somehow forking at your luscious g-spot and attempting to reach even deeper. Perhaps your cervix. Perhaps your womb. And Sukuna’s permanently patterning his tastebuds against your walls. Swirling and swirling and swirling right on time with the caresses at your clit.
He didn’t care how much you bucked and trembled at the sheer pleasure of it, the frat leader’s fingernails dig deep into your flesh every time you lurch away.
“Ah ah-” Only to be hauled back down in mere seconds by one of his strong arms. Back and forth, back and forth, baaaack and forth. With an unceremonious squelch! your pussy’s being plastered back down onto his mouth. And Sukuna tongues your folds back open to start jutting in between your lips, “Don’t- haaaah, fuck, don’t fucking run away…how m’I supposed to eat out my girl’s pussy if yer fucking running away?”
“I don’t know, you’ve never- hck!” Before you can open your mouth with your next few words, Sukuna’s showing you what it means to be his girl.
To have his knobbly fingertips pinch at your clit and start drawing—“H-heh…can ya spell it?” He rovers his thumb even harder on top of it like a button, “Bet’cha didn’t know I could do that. Spell it. Or are ya fucked dumb on m’mouth already?”
You’re replying crossly, “M’not fucked-”
“Then spell it.”
With a pitiful moan, you’re throwing your head in a downward direction to try and see exactly what he was-
Smack!
Yet another mean swatting on top of your puffy pussylips, and Sukuna’s tutting against them. It was as if his lips were glued to your pussy using the slick adhesive of your juices, and he didn’t want to detach himself even to speak—even to speak. “Ah ah- no cheating now, mama. Noooo cheating.”
“Fuh-fuck—” He angles his fingertips as if he was about to strike you once more. “Fine- I meant fine! The first letter is, mmm…”
“Yeeeees?” Drawling out.
And your pupils are swirling in time with the sultry motions of his digits. It was a pattern that makes every hair on your body stand on end - too curly to be a particularly pointy letter like ‘A’ or ‘K’ and yet not even half as curly to have been an ‘S’ that might mean his name. “Is it…R?”
“Atta girl.” Yet he plants another slamming of his fingertips that makes you throw your head back and whine, “Whoops- accident, sweetheart, accident.”
“F-fu—” Fuck you, is what you meant to say.
But Sukuna’s roughly bashin’ away at your sweetest orifice a few more times, leaving a big bruise against the side of your walls with his tongue. And it simply leaves you speechless, “Mmmm, nope! The next letter isn’t ‘F’, try again.”
“Y—!” You’re bawling out, your jaw falling agape at the sheer incredible speed at which he was drawing out all those whines and noises. It was simply unbearable in the best way. Unbearable.
You could tell that he had so-very-clearly been holding back at your previous…hangouts. And you could feel the burning sensation of bliss start up at the pit of your stomach, “And is the rest of the word ‘Ryomen’?”
“Mmm, three correct.” He answers, to which your hazy mind guesses that the first letters were R-Y-O…“Quite the sneaky lil’ thing, aren’t you? And ah- here’s a little hint, this next one’s an apostrophe.”
“Fuuuuuck, m’close.” You’re whimpering out in response- and his response, he’s only slashing at your g-spot at a faster rhythm. Only plucking at your tender clit—“S, and the next letter is- ngh, P.”
“Good, goooood—”
“U.” You gulp, and you’re unsure whether it was because of your oncoming high or because a lecherous part of you already suspected what the rest of what he was writing may be. “S…S…” Your entire body shivers, limbs unravelling - and you’re not quite sure whether you’d make it until the end of-
Your lips wobble as you try to enunciate, “Ryo’s pussy…”
“That’s my girl.”
You’re seeing a split-second of flashing lights before you’re suddenly pushed onto your high - hard, overtaking waves of pleasure that leave you all boneless against Sukuna’s eating mouth. But that worked just alright for him- he’d simply white-knuckle onto the side of your hips and lavish your tight entrance with his entire tongue.
Probing, again and again.
The cushy edge of his tongue swipes forwards to strike your g-spot right on time with the peaks of your euphoria. Like a perfect button for him to press on and increase your pleasure until you were simply shaking, “And my girl feels so goooood on her Ryomen’s mouth, doesn’t she?” He pants, fingers pinching your clit now and rolling between the roughened pads of his index and thumb. “Feels so nice cumming on Ryo’s tongue- bet’cha didn’t know it could feel this good, huh, sweetheart?”
Furiously shaking your head, “Didn’t- didn’t know- hck!”
And with a few more moans you’re just splashin’ your clingy wads all down Sukuna’s throat, all across his handsome lower half. “Ooooo- aaaaaatta girl—”
“C-can’t stop cumming.” You shake, tears sparkling at the edges of your eyes. “It just feels so good-”
“Leave some for m’cock, alright?”
But he was the one that wasn’t leaving anything, that wasn’t showing you any mercy.
Even once the sparks of your startling orgasm have bated, he’s plunging his wide tongue in and out. Scouring the inside and outside of your treacly pussy. Licking up every single ounce of slick sploshed down your front.
Dripping wet.
Only once you’re well and thoroughly overstimulated does Sukuna actually falter his movements, “Mmmm, there ya go, girlie~” He’s pulling his prolonged muscle out of your hole with a sloppy squeeeeeelch! He looks down at your mindlessly clenching pussy and admires his handy-work. “And now for the real deal.”
“Th-that wasn’t the real deal?” You’re asking through a whimper.
“That? That was just my appetizer, y’know?” The pink-haired man snickers at his own joke - though it really didn’t sound like a joke to you.
You attempt to flip yourself over- but Sukuna keeps you firmly in place with a hand at your hips. “Ah ah- don’t you think of running from me. Not now. Not ever.” And while you’re still draped across your front on the bed like this, Sukuna’s starting to tug off your hoodie—
Before he realizes just which one it is - his, his name on the back - and he stops immediately.
“Actually…” Sukuna stands, and you know that tone of voice didn’t bode anything good for you. “Why don’tcha keep it on, hm?”
Instead, he’s the one that’s stripping now.
That skin-tight shirt.
Those baggy pants.
Those boxers that were—oh.
Your eyes widen, “Is it just me or did…grow even bigger since last time, Ryo?”
“Mmm- why don’t we ask my pussy about it later, hm?”
And with that said, you’re getting to turn around and admire all of Ryomen Sukuna’s toned, tanned muscles. They ripple as he discards his clothes somewhere over his shoulder, making those tattoos of his look as though they were moving by themselves.
Greedily, your eyes follow the circles on either of his deltoids. The snake-like patterns down his pecs. The rings around his beefy biceps. The rings around his wrists. All the way down to the rings around either of his meaty thighs.
Shyly, you’re realizing that you’d skipped over one spot in particular.
And you drift your eyes back up—Sukuna’s erection was hard and hot between his legs. The most furious red at his mushroom tip that made him look as though he was so achingly needy he might as well fall off.
That you might as well count each one of his throbs.
Biting down on your lower lip, you’re impatient as you follow a bead of milky pre that dollops on top of his thick tip. Smearing just a bit. Travelling down, down, dooooown the veiny length of his shaft- until it ends up at the unruly tufts of pink at his base.
His tattooed base.
One more ring around his hilt, and next to that—you gasp.
“Oh…oh my god.” Without a second thought, you’re leaning in to get a closer look at that irritated patch of skin next to Sukuna’s v-line. And if your eyes weren’t deceiving you - that part of his skin had a swirling black calligraphy of none other than your fucking name on him. “Don’t tell me you’ve-”
“I did.”
You gape up at him, “Ryomen Sukuna, you’re fucking crazy-”
“I know.” He shivers as you reach out to touch it. Sukuna was fully unclothed now and prowling towards you on the bed, like a predator closing in on his prey. “But I couldn’t just name that pussy of yours ‘Ryo’s pussy’ and not contribute my part, too, could I? I had to show my dedication too, mama.”
“But putting it permanently on your skin-”
“Is the best decision I’ve ever made.”
You knew there was no talking him out of it, and Sukuna’s eagerly smoothing his calloused palm on top of your stomach. Caressing you. Drinking you in with his eyes.
Flipping you onto your stomach once more-
“Now face down, ass up- I wanna fuck my girl right.”
You’re barely managing to let your sweaty scalp hit your pillow before Sukuna suddenly has his obtuse tip squeezed between your pussylips and pushing and pushing—
“Oh—” Your eyes are scrunching as tight as they could close, and the only thing you can do is utterly melt into Sukuna’s carnal desire. You don’t think you’d ever get used to his sheer size. “Oh my god- oh my fucking- ngh, I always love h-how you feel-”
“For now-” And it’s a damn miracle that the man could speak - especially when your tender walls were squeezing him like that. “F-for now just pretend it’s the first time.”
Did he just stutter? What was he even…“Wh-what- oh.” You’re being shut up by Sukuna’s rugged, ravenous tip once more. He’s swabbing every treacly spot of your insides without even trying - simply just attempting to fit and fit and fit—
“Just- hah- just pretend s’the first time.” He kisses his lips to his teeth, both clammy hands plastered onto the side of your hips to help him funnel his massive cock inside.
His flared slit lodges against the roof of your cunt, and you’re arching just so beautifully into him- that he can’t help but lean down and bite at the side of your throat. Humming in satisfaction at the way the marking is just covered by his hoodie, it gives him the courage he needs to say those next few words. “Pretend s’just you and I. Pretend s’our first time- ngh.”
“You mean to say—oh.” You’re dizzy on the way his honed tip was perfectly opening up your hidden spots, and every time he’s reeling his hips back it’s just a constant back and forth. “Don’t think I even knew I had a spot there…”
“Good- good, jus’ like that.” He grunts out, holding you even tighter to his muscular body. “Pretend s’like we’ve never fucked before. You’re my girl- always have been. M’your Ryo- always have been. Always will be.”
“A-always will be-”
“And right now s’our first time, I’ve never fucked you before- oh, forget about all those fucking times in my room and in the car.” He whispers out, something desperate cracking primally at the back of his throat as he eases his way inside. “S’our time now—and I get to finally, finally fuck you as mine.”
All his.
And you’re finding that when Sukuna’s fucking you as just his…it means he’s so much more ravenous than you’ve ever known him to be.
So much more ruined.
So much more out-of-control—
It’s like he’s truly realized his full potential. “Since yer mine I get to- hah! stop you from running from my cock whenever I like.” Hauling you down like a ragdoll with both hands on your waist, you shrill at the slamming contact of his hips against your hips. His thighs against the backs of your thighs. His large cockhead against your ready cunt. “I get to fuck you raw for the first time. I get to fuck you so much- s-so fucking much n’ I don’t even have to worry about the marks I leave.”
“What marks?”
A slam so hard that you swear you can feel the globular end of his shaft right near your throat—“These marks.”
And you’re almost about to repeat your question in search of an answer once more- before you’re realizing what exactly Sukuna means.
Marks.
The marks he was leaving on every gooey orifice inside your cunt, on the globes of your ass being pummeled by his hips, on the sides of your body under the mercy of his grip.
Using that very same grip, he’s folding you on all fours underneath him. Tighter and tighter. Closer and closer to his hulking body. Before your muddled brain can register it, Sukuna’s reaching over his meaty right leg to plant right on top of your sweaty scalp.
Yes—on top.
The heel of his foot ends up on your head, and your eyes snap open in- perhaps shock, perhaps at the sheer audacity of him. You jolt.
“Ah ah-” The only thing you hear before one of his hands clasp ‘round the cottony fabric of your hoodie and tugs it down - it seems that your sudden lurching movement had made his uniform bunch up by your head.
And the famed wrestler wasn’t just bringing it down to take a good look at your pretty self. No—he was also bringing it down to read the name - his name - emblazoned across your back and jostling to and fro while you were being fucked by his ruthless hips. “Theeeeere we go, gotta rep the name, mama. Especially the first time.”
“Rep the set? You’re already fucking me- ngh, senseless.”
“And yet I already get to have you- fuck, wear this f’me. My girl. My lovely, lovely girl.” His toned figure leans down and he’s sloppily kissing at the name.
His name—fuck, how he loved this position. That was why he’d purposefully chosen it, to have his name peak up at him as he ploughed himself into you like a madman. Grunting out once your sopping lips squeeze him at the stretch, “The girl with my- hck! last name-”
“Ryo!”
“Whoops- too soon?” He doesn’t even sound the least bit regretful. And you can’t even answer, because then he’s only fucking your surprised whines out of you, “Mmm, and don’t forget that I also get to do- heh, this.” And as if it was even possible, his vicious hips accelerate their tempo against you. “I get to do whaaaatever I want with my girl’s pretty pussy- ah, apologies, my pretty pussy just to fit my thick cock inside.”
“I-inside-” You mindlessly babble out, “Want it inside-”
“Yeah? Want it all the way until my tattoo? Never been fucked like this before, have ya?”
Well, he has fucked you like this before. But that coherent part of you realizes that that wasn’t exactly the answer that Sukuna wanted right now—“No- no, never. You’re the first to fuck me like this, Ryo, mmm.”
“Good.”
Whether he was praising you for keeping up with his conversation - or whether he was praising you for taking his cock until he’s bottoming out - you’re not quite sure. Either way, the curly pink hairs at his base finally reach your folds—and they scritch-scratch at your pussy in such a carnal way you never knew you needed.
As he’s fully inside of you, the wrestling superstar hunches his entire body over and shivers. And pants. And throbs his entire length deeply inside of you in a way that makes your head pound with a rapid ba-thump! Ba-thump! Ba-thump!
“H-here….” One of his hands lifts off of your hip to caress down the front of your stomach. Sukuna feels for where his swollen tip was pulsating against your womb, and presses doooown against that lil’ bump. “S’my first time kissin’ my girl over here, isn’t it?”
“It- it is—”
And Sukuna truly is fucking you like it’s the first time - he’s fucking you like he’s angrier he didn’t have you earlier, he’s fucking you like he’s making up for all the lost time.
Just roughened, piercing bashes against your g-spot- he doesn’t even have to try to locate that bruised n’ battered little area on your channel. The rounded orifice of it gets pummeled by his shaft, and you’re seeing stars due to the sheer pressure of him. “It feels so- ngh- fuck.” You could barely even string together a sentence, head feeling all airy.
“Feels soooo—?”
“I don’t- I don’t even…” He doesn’t even have to be fully inside to let his curvaceous tip poke into your cervix. Purposefully angling his hips, Sukuna’s rub-a-dubbing the door to your womb with his puckered tip. “Th-think m’cockdrunk, Ryo.”
And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the way that his rude cadence seemed to stutter. “C-cockdrunk?”
Nodding through your tears, “I am, I am—oh.”
But of course, never let Ryomen Sukuna be known as the man that doesn’t take care of his cockdrunk partner.
Never.
Because in a split-second, he’s lifting his rude foot off of your head and you jolt at the sudden rush of blood to your scalp. “Oh- oh my…”
Only mere moments of mercy before you feel your entire limp body be hoisted off of the mattress.
Your eyes damn-near bulge out of your scalp, and you’re flailing at the feeling before- “Shhh, shh sh- be a good girl f’me before you make me put that foot atop your head again, mama.” Sukuna grunts, and suddenly you’re feeling one of his strong arms look around your neck.
You could feel all those developed biceps of his bulging against your throat once Sukuna cradles your neck and squeeeeezes. Spittle flowing out of you and down his veiny forearm like a fountain, “D-did you just put me in a fucking- ngh, headlock?!”
“Mhm.” He shows absolutely no remorse, “And I don’t hear her complaining.”
In fact, he could only hear the most sopping wet squelches emanating from your cunt.
And so Sukuna keeps holding you in this treacherous headlock whilst he’s pummeling you from behind. All those veiny inches of his cock being slurped right up between your pussy lips. Again. And again. And again and again and again—
It feels like hours have passed before you’re jolting at the sudden feeling of Sukuna’s warm fingertips slithering down between your sheeny legs once more. Your clit throbs like it’d missed his touch- and never one to leave you wanting more anymore, he’s twisting his rugged fingers on the nub.
Letting the patterned edges of his digits start twistin’ and turning that swollen knob in his hand. Your cunt squelches out a wet splash of slick at the sudden pleasure, “I-it just feels so good-”
“I know.” Sukuna hums, all smug with himself. “She’s told me- heh, think about thaaaat—I get ta speak with her for the first time tonight.” Before you can say anything else, he dips his head down to look at your cunt from underneath you and coos. “Hey, girlie, how are ya~?”
“Y-you’re unbelievable-” And yet he’s rovering his thumb all over your clit in a way that just has you gasping for more, and your cunt squelching out even louder.
“Mmm, m’doing good, thanks for asking.” He continues…a fucking conversation with your pussy. And at your widened stare, he shrugs. “What? M’only having a chat with- hah, my pussy. Wha’s wrong with that?”
“N-nothing…” You suppose.
“Exactly.” And then he times the ministrations of his thick thumb just right to roll over your clit in synchronization with his cock. You’re feeling one incredible thud! at your g-spot, and then you’re feeling another drag on your clit. This time…a pattern that you’re finding strangely familiar- “Can you spell, mama?”
“Are you asking—” Smack! A rude spank on your cunt, “F-fuck…”
“Apologies ‘bout that. S’my first time with you, remember? And I hafta get to know you. Get to do this.” He hums, and it’s not to you anymore. He’s completely and utterly devoted to keeping all his concentration on giving your pussy the utmost pleasure possible - from two different places of origin. “So about that spelling—”
“Fuck, Ryo, what are you trying to…”
This time, he’s not cutting you off. This time you’re trailing off out of your own volition, your ears listening for the sequences of letters that Sukuna calls out.
A sequence that sounds oddly familiar.
A sequence that spelled out your name.
He drag-drag-draaaaags your clit and it lets out a particularly loud lecherous sound that the larger man beams at, “Mmm, exactly. Perfect pronunciation and all- now let’s see if you can spell the rest.” And without further ado, Sukuna’s expert fingertips start outlining a different set of letters on your throbbing clit.
Making you shake with pleasure, “W-wait that spells…” Silently mouthing along.
S—he’s accelerating the thumps all the way at the back of your cervix, until you’re feeling dizzy.U—K—just the sheer amount of tears that streamed down your cheeks already told you that you were getting close to your high. U—
Your eyes widen, “Y-you’re not seriously-”
“Shhhh.”
N—but oh, he was. As if he was reading off of that sports hoodie on your back. And he was letting you tremble uncontrollably in the aftermath of his constant strikes and thumps at your greedy orifice, drilling into you with a hunger that never satiates. A hunger that tells you he’s wanted to do this for a long, long time. A—
You whisper what exactly it spelled out.
Your name, with the last name of-
“-Sukuna.” The man himself finishes off, before leaning down to leer at your drivelling cunt. The very same that was slurping and squelching away maddeningly at your gushing slick—“S’gonna be your name very soon, my girl.”
You don’t quite know which one of you he’s talking to - you or your pussy.
But you don’t quite care at this moment, either. Because in almost no time, you’re bursting into your nth high of the night - it’s no longer simply your second anymore.
Because as soon as you’re crashing into the white-hot wave of your second, you’re plummeting into your third. Your fourth. Your fifth. Seemingly dragged out of you as if it was oh-so-easy by none other than Sukuna’s ruthless cock.
You shake as it explodes through you, harder than any other orgasm you’ve experienced in your entire life.
Toes curling.
Lashes staining with tears.
The only thing you can do is arch your back into Sukuna’s sculptured one and let him thoroughly bash you through your zaps of euphoria. Over and over.
He lets his veiny shaft glide down your gooey insides, caressing every inch of you that seemed to explode with pleasure any time he was pistoning into you. “Yeah-” He grunts, feeling you uncontrollably clench around him. “Yeah, yeah, yeah- cum around my cock, sweetheart. Only around my cock—” His headlock on you tightens, “-got it?”
“Got it-” You babble out stupidly, your cheek slipping along the sheen of saliva you’d created on his forearm. “I got it, I got it- but…”
One pink brow raises, “But…?”
“But I also want you to do o-one thing f’me.”
He nuzzles the crook of your neck, “Anything.”
“Cum inside?”
And, well, Sukuna did say ‘anything’—didn’t he?
Because with a few more vulgar thrusts, the infamous frat leader is tipping his head back and emptying himself out inside you. You could feel the way that his thiiick balls clench from behind you, each of those wadded webs of ivory sap being poured out into you.
Each and every single one.
Stuffed and stuffed inside of you.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you take in the second skin that he’s layering on top of your insides. Something so warm and filthy feeling heavy inside of your orifice—fuck, you’re discovering that a primal part of you loved the feeling.
It sploshes! out into your deepest depths and create a lil’ puddle that you can feel even at your cervix. Just swirled around by his thickened tip, “C-cumming—” The man rasps out, voice botched with a primal sort of hoarseness. He stutters as he cums. He shakes as he cums. Crimson eyes shuttering at the most blissful feeling in the world, spurting his seed inside your needy pussy. “And then there’s that- hah! I get to cum inside you for the f-first time…”
And it really was the first time he was filling you up like this. All the way up to the brim and fucking those pearly beads of cum right back inside you, “Kinda- ngh, always wan’ you to cum inside me.”
He pecks the side of your temple, hips still shifting filthily. “Hey then we’re gonna have a- mmm, mini-Sukuna before you’re even Mrs. Sukuna, girlie.”
“M-maybe I don’t mind…” Bucking your hips back into his for more friction.
“Talkin’ outta that pussy, I see.”
With yet another sudden spank! on top of your sultry folds, you’re being flipped over once more and stuffed right back up to your womb with Sukuna’s thickened inches. All of them shoved right up until you can feel them at your very throat- “We might have to dumbify her too, I’m afraid.”
“S’gonna be a long night.” You’re commenting with a shiver.
Sukuna grins, “How’d you spell ‘the first of many’?”
.
.
.
The tournament was in an uproar by the time you’re running into the stands.
Well, more bowing and apologizing as you scramble to your seat past rows of other supporters- but you stand by it nonetheless. You’re letting out a pant of relief as you finally plop unceremoniously down onto the only empty chair in the stands, placing down your bag and pulling on the collar of Sukuna’s wrestling hoodie in an attempt to fan yourself.
“You’re late, my dear.” Utahime hisses from the row behind you, flipping off the middle-aged man that grumbles at her.
“I know, I’m sorry!” You whisper back - ah, so that’s where they were. A few more rows behind her were some of the Curses Epsilon brothers - including Choso - that you had been starting to get to know, little by little. They wave happily at you and you wave back with a grin. You’d been wanting to get seats next to all of them, but it seems they’d filled up faster than you’d hoped.
At the very least you were lucky to have your friends so close by you, and you’re shooting them an apologetic smile - after all, you were the one that’d bugged your two best friends to join you watching Sukuna’s wrestling match. You mouth, “Whole story. Explain later.”
“Traffic?” Shoko asks from next to your purple-haired friend, looking up from her anatomy textbook. For what reason she had that, you weren’t quite sure…and you weren’t brave enough to ask, either.
Choosing the short story, you’re nodding at her suggestion.
You’d run all the way here, truth be told.
Sukuna was already halfway through his final match of the tournament, one more and he’d win this collegiate title. And though a part of you was upset that you’d missed out on so much (sure, you could watch them later on the recordings, but it was the principal that counted!), it made you so-very-proud to see so many of the recruiters with their eyes locked on Sukuna and Sukuna only.
Your boyfriend of just shy of a month.
You couldn’t blame them—fuck, you just wished you hadn’t had to wait so long at the dry cleaner’s! Apparently there had been some sort of mix-up that’d resulted in you being quite delayed while you actually waited to claim the hoodie you knew and loved too much.
Sure, it’d been slightly stained from some of last nights…activties (somewhat of a good luck ritual, he claimed, though you knew what he really wanted to do was fuck you in the hoodie with his name), but beloved nonetheless!
Anyways—after falling behind your schedule, you’d been hit by traffic, and then there was the issue of actually trying to navigate the stadium, and then- well, here you were!
Evidently, it seems that Sukuna is sensing the same thing.
Because in the middle of an ankle lock, Sukuna’s crimson eyes flick upwards towards the stands- and they’re meeting yours instantly.
A charged tension only the two of you could feel.
Squirming slightly in your seat at the intensity of his stare, his realization, you give him a wave.
In mere split-seconds, Sukuna has the other man slammed down onto the floor and his sweaty body struggling to even move. You cheer, that had to have at least been two points.
“We’re lucky you’re here, my dear.” Utahime leans down to whisper to you. “You won’t believe what that boyfriend of yours was like before the game- moping around, calling you, staring longingly at his phone wallpaper of you—eugh! I didn’t even know that a man of that size and strength could act like a lost puppy.” She shudders.
Shoko states plainly, “What she means to say is that your boyfriend missed you.”
And you’re just about to open your mouth to answer- when right beside you, a jittery voice speaks up.
“P-pardon me.” The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the man that’d been seated to your left, you hadn’t paid much attention to him considering the frantic state you’d been in when you first got here. “Did you say ‘boyfriend’?”
And now, you almost wished you did.
Because the man beside you looked exactly like Sukuna only…softer. Quieter. Calmer. With an air about him that told you that perhaps he was the type that grew up with quite a bit of responsibility. He wore a sweater with the shapes of some marine animals sewn into it. He didn’t have any of Sukuna’s tattoos or the chiselled look of a recent athlete or the gruffness he wore like a cloak - but the resemblance was uncanny.
The bespectacled man adjusts his glasses and your jaw drops—this must be his older brother that he told you so much about! “You must be his girlfriend that he’s told me so much about.”
“Y-yes!” You snap out of your little reverie at his words, and you’re immediately reaching out your hand for a handshake. “You must be his older brother, Jin?”
Jin pulls you in for a hug, sighing out against you. “Thank you so much for taking care of him.”
“No- not at all! The pleasure’s all mine, and he’s the one that takes care of me most of the time.” You’re sheepishly admitting, “Thank you for taking care of him all this time, I know he looks up at you so much.”
The other pink-haired man blushes, scratching behind his neck. “W-well I wouldn’t say that…” He glances to his left, “Oh! And silly me- I forgot to introduce you to our father.”
You’re beaming at the gruff old man seated next to Jin, a furrow between his brows that you could’ve recognized anywhere on his younger son. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”
The introductions between you and Sukuna’s family go swimmingly (if there was a wrestling alternative then you’d have said it), and you’re finding that they were the absolute sweetest. Jin was soft and compassionate, the polar opposite of Sukuna and yet so similar to him at his deepest core. Wasuke was more like Sukuna on the outside, and you swear you could feel your sides splitting at the quips he’d comment about his son while you all watched the match.
Eventually, the three of you along with your friends in the latter rows are chatting up so much of a storm that you almost don’t notice—“He’s about to win.”
At the sound of your voice, the rest of your group looks over at the ringed boundaries of the match.
Instantly, you’re all up on your feet and cheering at the top of your lungs.
All of you.
Jin and Wasuke.
Shoko and Utahime.
The Curses Epsilon boys.
You.
And when Ryomen Sukuna finally defeats his tough opponent, you can’t decide which one of you cheered the loudest.
But what you do know is that he’s sauntering up past the boundary the minute his win is announced - all sweat-streaked and spitting out his mouth guard, all panting and toned with his muscles, all uncaring whether or not his coach is talking to him right now.
He doesn’t care
He doesn’t care.
Sukuna’s breaking into a sprint once he sees you getting off the stands—and scoops you into his arms whilst you yelp in delight.
You knew you must look such a sight, you and this hulking man.
You feel him bury his face into the crook of your neck, whispering. “Could you all have been any louder?” And you could feel the way his face burns against your skin.
“What- the King of the Court fan club?” You’re innocently questioning, “Yes, that is our name and you can thank Jin for that. And no, we don’t show signs of stopping any time soon- we actually plan on expanding to the rest of the campus by the end of semester-”
He peeks up at the group behind you, here just for him - his brother and father, your friends, his fraternity brothers - and groans. And you can only laugh.
“You all are insufferable.” Sukuna says, baritone dramatically pained. “Especially you.”
𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ a secretly voice-obsessed satoru calls his best friend late at night and ends up getting off to your voice mid-conversation.
✿ ◞◟) gojo satoru 𝓍 gn!reader
𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 18+ [ MDNI! ], explicit sexual content, heavy voice kink, best friend!satoru, male masturbation, obsessive fixation on reader’s voice, phone sex (satoru’s side), reader is oblivious at first, satoru is down bad and really pathetic.
okay, so here’s the thing about gojo satoru; he’s pathetic.
not in the way that anyone would ever know, of course. to the outside world, gojo satoru is all long limbs and easy laughter, stupidly handsome in that effortless way that makes people want to either kill him or kiss him, and he talks exactly like someone who perfectly knows he can get away with literally anything. he’s really loud and so charming and just the right amount of annoying, and he has never in his life had to try for anything because the universe handed him good genetics and a silver tongue and called it a day.
but here’s the thing that none knows, not even you, especially not you, his best friend in the entire world, the very person he tells everything to except for this one tiny, massive, earth-shattering thing; gojo satoru is obsessed with your voice.
not in a casual way, not in a 'oh, i like hearing you talk' way, not even in a 'i have a slight preference for your tone' way. oh no, this is something else entirely; this is the kind of obsession that lives under satoru’s skin, that curls around his spine and settles deep in his gut, that makes his brain go stupid and his fingers twitch and his breath catch in ways that are genuinely embarrassing for a man his age.
your voice does something to him, something chemical and primal and completely out of his control, and satoru has spent months — years, honestly, if he’s being honest with himself, which he usually isn’t — trying to figure out how to deal with it without making it weird as hell.
and he’s failed, spectacularly.
because it started small, the way these things always do.
you’d laugh at something satoru said, bright and unguarded, and satoru would feel something warm and dangerous unfurl in his chest. you’d say his name, just his name, satoru, and he’d forget how to form proper words for a second. you’d ramble about something stupid, some show you were watching or some drama at work, and he’d find himself leaning closer, phone pressed hard against his ear, eyes half-closed, just… listening, soaking it in like he could bottle the sound of you and keep it under his pillow.
and then it got worse.
because somewhere along the line, somewhere between late-night phone calls and lazy afternoons spent doing nothing together, his body started reacting in a i-need-to-touch-myself-the-second-i-hear-you kind of way. and that was when satoru realized he was in deep, deep trouble.
he’s tried everything; he’s tried dating other people, hoping that someone else’s voice could do the same thing, but it never works. he’s tried ignoring it, tried to power through his alone time with his own imagination or with videos like a normal person, but it’s always lackluster, always missing something, always leaving him frustrated and unsatisfied and, god, so fucking desperate.
because his body has learned, now. his body knows exactly what it needs, and it will not accept substitutes.
it needs your voice.
specifically, it needs your voice in his ear, soft and warm and completely unaware of what you’re doing to him, while satoru falls apart like the pathetic mess he is.
and tonight, tonight is the night he finally breaks.
it’s late, way later than satoru should be awake, and he’s in his apartment alone with the lights off and his thoughts spiraling in directions he doesn’t want them to go. he’s been trying to sleep for hours, tossing and turning, sheets tangled around his legs, but his mind keeps drifting back to you — to the way you said goodbye to him earlier, the casual “talk to you later, toru!” that should not have sounded as good as it did, the little hum you made when he said something funny, the way your voice dropped slightly when you got serious about something.
and now satoru is hard.
achingly, painfully hard, the kind of hard that makes his stomach tight and his thighs clench and his hand drift down almost without permission; he’s already palming himself through his boxers before he can think better of it, breath hitching at the contact, and he knows — hell, he knows — that this isn’t going to be enough. it’s never enough without you.
he tries anyway, because he has some dignity left, or at least he thinks he does.
satoru pushes his boxers down, he wraps his huge hand around his cock, and he starts moving, slow and steady, trying to summon up some kind of fantasy that doesn’t involve you. but it’s no use. every single time satoru closes his eyes, he hears your voice. every single time he tries to think of something else, his brain supplies him with a memory of you laughing, of you whispering, of you saying his name in that particular way that makes his chest ache.
it’s not working.
it’s not working, and he’s getting frustrated, and his hand is moving faster now, rougher, but it’s still not enough, and he’s actually going to lose his fucking mind.
his phone is on the nightstand, screen dark, taunting him.
satoru shouldn’t. he really, really shouldn’t.
this is crossing a line, this is something he can’t come back from, this is the kind of thing that could ruin everything if you ever found out. you’re his best friend. you trust him. you don’t know that satoru lies awake at night thinking about the sound of your voice, that he’s jerked off to the memory of you saying his name more times than he can count, that he is, for all intents and purposes, completely and utterly down bad for something you don’t even know you’re giving him.
but hell, satoru is so desperate, and he’s not thinking straight at all, and his hand is still moving, and it’s not enough, and he needs—he needs—
before he can talk himself out of it, he’s grabbing his phone, unlocking it with shaking fingers, and tapping on your contact. your name glows at him from the screen, and his heart is pounding so hard he can feel it in his throat, and he’s actually doing this, he’s actually calling you at — satoru glances at the time — one in the morning, for no reason other than that he’s pathetic and obsessed and he needs to hear your voice right now or he’s going to combust.
the phone rings once, twice.
satoru’s hand is still wrapped around his cock, frozen mid-stroke, and he’s holding his breath like if he breathes too loud you’ll somehow know what he’s doing.
on the third ring, you pick up.
“satoru?” your voice is sleep-rough and confused, and god, it’s even better than he remembered, softer than usual, slightly muffled like you’re still half-buried in your pillow. “it’s like… one in the morning. everything okay?”
his entire body shudders.
no, everything is not okay. everything is the opposite of okay. everything is the least okay it has ever been, because your voice just hit his ears and went straight to his dick, and he has to physically stop himself from moaning out loud.
“h-hey,” satoru manages, and his voice sounds weird even to his own ears, strained and breathy. he clears his throat, and tries again. “hey, uh. couldn’t sleep. thought i’d—”
he has to stop, because his hand is moving again, completely of its own accord, and it takes every ounce of self-control he has to keep his voice steady.
“thought i’d see if you were up.”
there’s a pause on your end, and satoru can hear you shifting, probably sitting up in bed, and the sound of fabric rustling makes his hips jerk involuntarily.
“well, i’m up now,” you say, and there’s a hint of amusement in your voice, the kind of fond exasperation you always have when he does something impulsive. “what’s going on? bad dream or something?”
or something. yeah. let’s go with that.
“something like that,” satoru says.
oh, he hates how breathless he sounds, he hates how his voice cracks on the last word, but he can’t help it because he’s touching himself while on the phone with you, and your voice is wrapping around him like a physical thing, warm and familiar and so, so good. satoru’s head falls back against the pillow, eyes squeezing shut, and he tries to focus on keeping his breathing even, he tries to keep the wet sounds of his hand moving from leaking through the receiver.
he’s not doing a great job.
“you sound weird,” you say, and satoru’s heart completely stops. “are you sick?”
“no,” he says too quickly, and then, because he has to say something, “j-just tired. couldn’t sleep. you know how it is.”
you hum in response, that same little hum from earlier, the one that’s been living in satoru’s head rent-free, and he has to bite his lip to keep from making a pathetic sound. his hand is moving faster now, a steady rhythm that he can’t seem to stop, and the friction is good, so good, but it’s not enough, not until he hears more of your voice.
“what, uh, what were you doing before i called?” satoru asks, and he’s aiming for casual but landing somewhere around desperate. “were you asleep?”
“yeah,” you say, and he can hear you yawning, the sound making his toes curl. “i was having this really weird dream, actually. about—i don’t know, something with a horse? and we were in a grocery store? it didn’t make any sense.”
satoru laughs, and it comes out strangled, because he can’t help but imagine you dreaming about him — even in the context of a weird grocery store horse situation — and it does something to him that he doesn’t want to examine too closely.
“sounds about right for you.”
“shut up,” you say.
but you’re smiling, satoru can hear it in your voice, and god, he wishes he could see you right now, he wishes he could watch your face while you talk to him, but maybe that’s for the best because he’s not sure he could handle it. his grip on his cock tightens, his rhythm falters, and he has to turn his head away from the phone to muffle a moan against his pillow.
“so what’s keeping you up?” you ask, and there’s genuine concern in your voice now, so soft and so careful. “you seem… i don’t know. off?”
i’m jerking off while listening to you talk, satoru thinks. that’s what’s off. that’s what’s wrong with me. i’m your best friend and i’m touching myself to the sound of your voice and i can’t stop, i can’t stop, i don’t want to stop.
“just thinking,” he says instead, and his voice is barely above a whisper now, rough and strained. “about stuff.”
“what kind of stuff?”
you, satoru wants to say. always you. everything you. the way you say my name, the way you laugh, the way you talk to me like i’m someone worth talking to. you, you, you.
“nothing important,” satoru lies.
and then he makes the mistake of letting his guard down, of letting a small sound escape — a quiet, punched-out little gasp that he hopes you interpret as a yawn or a sigh or anything other than what it actually is.
but you don’t say anything; you just keep talking, rambling about your dream again, about the weird details you’re starting to remember, and your voice washes over him like warm water, and he’s so far gone it’s not even funny.
satoru is leaking now, his hand slick with it, and every stroke makes a soft, sticky sound that he’s desperately trying to cover up with the blanket. his thighs are trembling, his stomach is tight, and he can feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, that familiar coil of heat that means he’s already getting close.
but satoru doesn’t want to get close yet.
not when he just got you on the phone, not when your voice is finally in his ear where it belongs, not when satoru can pretend, just for a little while, that this is normal, that this is something he gets to have.
“—and then the horse just looked at me, like, straight in the eyes, and i swear it was about to say something—satoru? are you still there?”
“y-yeah,” he breathes, and his voice cracks on the word, high and shaky and completely unconvincing. “yeah, i’m—i’m here. just—keep talking. please.”
please. he actually said please.
satoru is so pathetic he’s actually begging now, and you don’t even know, you have absolutely no idea that you have him like this, that you’re the only thing that can get him off anymore, that he’s been dreaming about this for years and it’s somehow even better than he imagined.
“okay,” you say slowly, and there’s a pause, a beat of silence where he can hear you thinking. “you’re being weird, but okay. so anyway, the horse—”
and you keep talking, and satoru keeps listening, and his hand keeps moving on his cock, faster now, desperate and sloppy and so, so good. he’s biting down on his bottom lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to keep quiet, but it’s getting harder with every word you say.
your voice is doing something to him, some kind of alchemy that turns his bones to liquid and his thoughts to static, and all he can do is hold on and try not to fall apart before he’s ready.
“—and then i woke up, so i don’t even know what the horse was going to say, which is honestly kind of annoying—satoru? satoru, what is that sound?”
his heart slams against his ribs.
“w-what sound?”
“that… i don’t know, it sounds like—are you okay? you’re breathing really hard.”
fuck fuck fuck fuck.
he’s been caught, or at least he’s been noticed, and satoru has to say something, he has to come up with an explanation that doesn’t involve the truth, but his brain is short-circuiting and his hand won’t stop moving and the only thing he can think about is how close he is, how your voice is pushing him closer and closer to the edge with every syllable.
“just—” satoru chokes out, and his hips are moving now, thrusting up into his fist like he can’t help himself, because he can’t. “just—working out. couldn’t sleep so i—i did some push-ups. still out of breath.”
there’s a long pause. too long. he can feel you thinking, can feel your suspicion through the phone, and he holds his breath, waiting for you to call him on his bullshit.
but you don’t.
“at one in the morning?” you ask, and there’s disbelief in your voice, but also something else, something he can’t quite identify. “you’re insane.”
“y-yeah,” he agrees, and it comes out as a moan, half-stifled, definitely not subtle. “insane. that’s me.”
satoru is so close now that he can taste it; his whole body is shaking, sweat beading on his forehead, and his hand is moving in a blur of motion, too fast, too rough, but he can’t slow down, can’t stop, not when your voice is still in his ear, still talking, still saying his name.
“satoru,” you say, and it’s different this time, softer, slower, like you’re testing something out. “are you sure you’re okay? you really sound—”
“say it again,” satoru interrupts, and he’s not even trying to hide it anymore, not trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. “f-fuck—please. say my name again.”
there’s a sharp intake of breath on your end.
“…satoru?”
and that’s it. that’s the thing that breaks him.
satoru’s whole body seizes up, his back arching off the bed, his mouth falling open in a silent scream as he cums harder than he has in his entire life.
his hand keeps moving, milking himself through it, and he can’t stop the sounds that are falling out of his mouth — high, broken little whimpers and moans that he can’t hold back, can’t muffle, can’t do anything about except hope that you don’t hear them, even though you definitely, definitely do.
his vision whites out for a second, maybe longer, and when it comes back, he’s shaking, trembling all over, his thighs slick and his stomach a mess and his phone pressed so hard against his ear that it hurts. he’s gasping for air, chest heaving, and there’s a ringing in his ears that isn’t from the phone.
and then he hears you breathe.
“satoru,” you say again, and your voice is different now; it’s lower and careful, like you’re putting something together in your head. “were you just—”
“i have to go,” he says, fast and panicked, and he’s already reaching for the end call button, already pulling the phone away from his ear, but your voice stops him.
“wait.”
satoru freezes, and his thumb hovers over the screen, and his heart is pounding so hard he thinks he might actually be having a medical emergency.
“don’t hang up,” you say, and there’s something in your voice he’s never heard before, something that makes his stomach flip in a way that really has nothing to do with what just happened. “satoru. don’t you dare hang up on me.”
he doesn’t. he can’t. satoru just lies there in his bed, covered in his own release, phone pressed to his ear, waiting for you to say something, anything, while the silence stretches between you like a wire pulled taut.
and then you speak again, and your voice is soft, softer than he’s ever heard it, soft like you’re about to tell him a secret.
“satoru,” you say, and his name has never sounded like that before, his name has never been weighted with so many things at once. “i think we need to talk.”
You are utterly and shamelessly addicted to Choso’s cock
cw: explicit, creampie, a day filled of you sucking Cho’s cock.
Have you ever heard the phrase ‘keep your hands to yourself’?
Of course not.
Per routine, you’re at breakfast with Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and the two of you crammed into a cozy booth at the café. Choso sat beside you looking unfairly composed whereas you, on the other hand, had been throbbing with need since the moment you sat down. Under the long tablecloth your hand slid discreetly into his lap. Choso’s breath hitched with his chopsticks pausing mid-air as a faint flush crept up his neck.
He leaned toward you, voice extremely quiet, “B-Baby… not with them right here…” But he didn’t push your hand away as his thighs parted just slightly under the table, letting you rub him harder.
You could feel every throb as you stroked him slow. Choso’s cheeks turned pink, his lips pressed together to stifle any sound while Satoru was busy dramatically recounting a mission and Suguru smirked knowingly across the table.
Leaning in, you whispered hotly against his ear, “I need you. I need your cock, please, Cho, please.”
Choso swallowed hard, nodding obediently with wide eyes as he let you drag him away from the table before anyone could tease too much. The second the bathroom door locked behind you, you shoved him against the wall and dropped to your knees, yanking his pants down just enough to free his thick, flushed cock. It sprang out heavy and leaking, and you moaned like you’d been denied for weeks.
“Fuck, Cho… I need this so bad,” you whimpered, nuzzling your cheek against the warm length before licking a long, slow stripe from base to tip. Choso’s hand flew to your hair, fingers trembling as he let out a soft whimper.
You swallowed him down eagerly, sucking him wet and sloppy, throat relaxing around his girth while spit dripped down your chin. Choso’s head tipped back against the tile, breath coming in shaky little gasps. “Ah—shit… your mouth feels too good,” he whined softly, hips twitching helplessly into your throat. “They’re all out there… and I’m—hngh—gonna cum if you keep doing that…”
You bobbed faster, moaning around him, taking him as deep as you could as he came. But sucking him off wasn’t enough. You stood, turned, bent over the sink, and shoved your panties aside. “Fuck me, Cho. Please. Fill me up.”
Choso obeyed instantly, hands shaking as he gripped your hips and slid into your soaked pussy in one smooth thrust. He fucked you with desperate strokes, whimpering against your shoulder. “You’re so wet… squeezing me so tight… I can’t—ah—I can’t last,” he gasped, voice breathy. You pushed back against him, demanding more, until both of you came hard.
When you finally returned to the table, faces flushed and a little disheveled, Satoru raised an eyebrow with a knowing grin. “Took you guys long enough.” You just smiled innocently while Choso avoided everyone’s eyes, still softly panting.
The obsession only grew.
In the car on the way home, your seatbelt was barely buckled before your hand was back in his lap, stroking him through his pants until he was rock hard. “Pull over,” you whined, but Choso just gripped the wheel tighter. “You couldn’t even wait ten minutes?”
You answered by leaning over the console, unzipping him, and taking his cock into your mouth while he drove. The wet sounds of you slurping and gagging on him filled the car as he tried to keep his eyes on the road, one hand tangled in your hair, guiding you deeper. He came down your throat just as he pulled into a side street, thick pulses coating your tongue while you swallowed everyyy drop.
Later that same day, you were supposed to meet Yuji for lunch.
You didn’t even make it two blocks from the car. The second Choso’s hand wrapped around your waist as you walked, you were dragging him into the nearest alley, dropping to your knees. You pulled his cock out taking him immediately into your salivating mouth, playing with his balls, as you deepthroated him until your nose pressed against his pelvis. Choso’s quiet grunts and the way his thighs trembled only made you suck harder, desperate for his cum. He painted your throat again, and you licked him clean with a satisfied little hum.
So, time and time again this was a consistent problem and yet by the time you were supposed to be at training with Satoru, you were already late.
And it was entirely your fault.
Choso stood in the doorway of your bedroom, pants around his thighs, while you knelt between his legs once more, your mouth full, cheeks hollowed, eyes watering as you bobbed on his cock like you’d die without it. He was rock hard again, slick with your spit as his veins pulsed against your tongue.
“Baby… we’re late,” he groaned, but his hips were still rocking gently into your mouth, one hand stroking your hair almost tenderly. “Satoru’s gonna kill us.”
You pulled off just long enough to whine, voice needy, “Just a little more… please, Cho. I need it. I need your cock so bad—”
He cursed softly, then guided you back down, letting you suck him with messy enthusiasm. You moaned around him, thighs clenched together, pussy throbbing from how turned on you were just from having him in your mouth. Another load—your fourth of the day—was already building, and you couldn’t wait to feel it in your throat again.
You really were a cock addict—and Choso’s thick, perfect cock was your only fix.
⚓︎ (MDNI) Neighbour!Toji doesn't know how to feel after catching you spying on him
cw : perverted reader, degredation / humiliation
"You're fucking disgusting."
"Y-yes, yes I am, mmh."
Toji sneered, narrowed eyes scanning your shaking form as you ground your palm against your clothed pussy. Right on his crumpled sheets.
The man was standing between your legs, having dragged you into his home after catching you masturbate to the sight of him changing again through your bedroom window.
.
.
It had been a good few months since he had moved in next door — and if you thought love at first sight wasn't real, you were greatly mistaken.
After catching sight of Toji's muscles working as he carried box after box into his new home, you were positively smitten — so much that you began sifting through his mail just to get to know his name and any other tidbit of information you could get your greedy hands on.
Date of birth? December 31st.
Occupation? Not disclosed, but you were happy to overlook that.
For now.
Once you were done making a mental profile of Toji, the 'accidental' run-ins began. You made careful work of bumping into him right when he was off for a morning jog or taking out your rubbish the moment you saw him do it first.
Oh, how thrilling it all was — sneaking around like some schoolgirl just to get a small glimpse of the man you were admiring from afar.
But it wasn't enough.
No, it progressed to a point where you'd linger by your bedroom window after realising it was adjacent to Toji's room. His carelessness was one of his shortcomings, and you took full advantage of the fact he never seemed to close his curtains.
Naturally, you started watching him — and not once did the thought cross that just maybe this behaviour was somewhat immoral.
Then again, why would that even matter when the sight of two large pecs before you made you wetter than you had ever been in months?
In your eyes, the fixation was simply admiration, a small crush of sorts — that's all. It was honestly a blessing that Toji hadn't moved next to some debauched pervert who only saw him for his body.
You, on the other hand, were able to appreciate all of his attributes. From the perplexed look he threw your way when you bumped into him one too many times for it to be a coincidence, to the gruff 'get the fuck out of my way' when you tried helping him with his beat-up car that one time.
Yeah, you had him all figured out. He wanted you — badly.
So that was why you took it upon yourself to satiate that achy feeling in your pussy whenever you caught sight of Toji changing, salivating at the thick, veined weight hanging strong between his beefy thighs.
"Bet you could fuckin' choke me out with them," you tittered, shoving your hands into your pants with your heart in your throat at the risk of it all.
Then there were his pecs, full and round to the touch — sculpted by Michelangelo himself. Oh, how desperately you wanted to place your lips around his nipples, just to see if he was sensitive or not...
Alas, you'd have to settle from pining from a distance for a while longer.
This went on for quite a while. You had lost track of how many orgasms the sight of Toji alone had made you cum — whether that be when he was fresh out of the shower or simply changing into those tight black boxers you wanted to get your hands on.
But then he caught you one day. Toji already had his suspicions that you had ulterior motives than just playing the part of the welcome wagon.
When he looked up one afternoon, he saw you — one hot palm flat against the window as the other worked frantically between your legs, lower lip caught under your top teeth. After months of spying on Toji and not getting caught, you had grown complacent and forgot to hide yourself somewhat.
From there, things took a turn for the better — in your eyes, at least.
.
.
"Knew there was something up with you," Toji went on, tense when your nimble fingers slid under the waistband of your panties. "Bet you're the reason why my boxers go missing off the line, too."
"Maybe," you blurted, moving your underwear to the side with your free hand. With your lips sagging open, you rolled your clit around between two of your fingers.
Toji could only watch as you got yourself off, cock soft despite the stuttering squelches of you stuffin' your fingers inside of you filling the room.
Of course, you noticed — calling out to him pathetically with your knees closing in on themselves. "Y-you don't like this?"
His large hands came down in an instant, bullying your thighs open with unnatural ease. You were held open wide, pussy fluttering around nothing. "Oh, no, no. None of that. You don't get to hide now after doing that shit for months. Pervert."
Your head fell back, a breathy gasp slipping out from between your lips. Something about Toji's words were seriously getting to you, making the glide of your fingers inside of you much easier.
God, you were so fucking wet. He could see it, head hot as you fucked your wetness out of you — until it dripped wet down your ass and onto the sheets below.
Toji liked that...
Maybe.
He couldn't tell if his cock was twitching because his hormones were doing their job, or if he was into this whole degradation thing going on. Toji spoke again, rougher this time.
Who was the fucked up one here again?
"You like that, huh? Being called out on how much of a pervert you are for your neighbour?"
"Yes," you rasped, toes curling and fingers crooking upwards. "I'm such a p-pervert. I love watching you change. I like watching you bring those girls home. Wish that was me—!"
Toji cursed, hand coming down to palm at his crotch.
Were you really that fucked up, spying on him during his hookups?
"Wish that was you, don't you? But it isn’t. It never will be, because you'll only ever watch and keep that nasty mouth running behind your window."
Your back bowed into a beautiful arch, the whites of your eyes more prominent now that you were heading closer towards an orgasm. "You saw..."
"Tch. 'course I did. You think I'm as oblivious as you?"
"You saw," you babbled incoherently, repeated words drifting off towards something weaker — until your pussy convulsed around your fingers and you came with a pitchy cry. You even soaked Toji's sheets below, squirting a burst of clear fluid that'd be sure to have his bed smelling of you for days to come.
Speaking of coming — Toji didn't. He squeezed his bulge with a large hand, refusing to give you that gratification of seeing him orgasm. It was painful, sure — but seeing your face fall after you came to was worth it.
"So that's it?"
"Yeah. You can scurry off to your home now like you always do 'n watch me jerk off."
using the replica dildo your nsfw content mutual!gojo satoru gifted you on stream. part one + inspo ask
ever since you’ve received that stupid gift from satoru, he hasn’t left you alone. constantly asking if the quality of silicone was that of a good quality. and asking if it felt like the real thing — a subtle hint of ‘did it feel like my dick?’.
but the truth is, you haven’t used it — you couldn’t even fathom the thought of how something so big could possibly fit inside of you.
“sooo… how’d it feel, hmm?!” satoru says over the phone, and you could practically hear the smile he’s biting back as your eyes flicker over to the hyper-realistic dildo.
it’s almost scary how similar the replica is to the videos of himself on twitter. the texture of the silicone is soft to touch, representing a faux skin. even the girth of the toy is surrealistic — the way your able to curl your hands around it, and squeeze it as the skin around it wrinkles in just the way satoru’s does when he’s fisting his dick on live.
“i already told you, toru.” you pan your attention back to the conversation. “i will not be putting that monstrous thing inside of me.” you reach a hand towards your phone, watching satoru’s lips curl downwards into that signature pout of his.
“monstrous?! you’re so mean.” he sighs, “thought you wanted a gift straight from japan, something you could even put to good use.” you watch his lips follow his words as he rambles on. his gorgeous, feathered eyelashes batting with each blink he takes, and the way his bottom lip is glossed over with a coat of his saliva.
satoru’s beauty always made you question how such a pretty face could be carrying something so, deadly within their pants. and you’d be lying to yourself if you said the thought of using the dildo never cross your mind at least thrice.
“not monstrous in a bad way, just you know…” you add to satoru’s mini yap-session. “this thing is way bigger than it looks on camera. if i put this inside of me, i’d probably die.” you say in an a way that left you speechless which earned a chuckle out of satoru.
“you’re not gonna die, we have infinite compatibility.” he grins, revealing the dimple at the corner of his mouth. “compatibility, or not it’s still gonna hurt like hell.” you reply, though there’s a little pause.
just a beat of silence before satoru responds. “should i fly over there and just give you the real thing instead?”
his tone is playful, but there’s a linger that makes it feel heavier than it should have. the kinda feeling that makes your stomach fill with warmth. “w— what, toru?! stay where you are!” you stutter out, a little flustered because he’s stupidly persistent and annoyingly bold.
—
and now you can’t help but wonder — what if satoru had flown to your city. what if your first taste of satoru’s dick didn’t have to be the replica he sent, but the real him… wondering just how warm your bodies would feel against each other. how, if it was too much, would he praise you through it? or would he accidentally bottom-out inside you?
a connection shared between you two in which a piece of silicone could never replicate.
so maybe that explains why you’re active at such an abnormal time — logged into your onlyfans during past hours, disregarding the posting schedule you had planned for unreleased content as you hit the ‘go live now’ button.
you rarely go live after midnight. and the one thing you didn’t expect was for your subscribers to be so active after midnight as the view count doubled, and tripled over the span of minutes.
though this wasn’t an ordinary live — no, this one was different. your setup was slightly ajar, as if you were in some sort of rush. you didn’t even use your camera display, instead you used some cheap tripod you found lying around your room and connected your phone to it.
the quality of your phone in dim lighting wasn’t the best, but at least your body’s still clear enough on the camera. you’re in nothing, but a thin-cottoned tank top and panties. your back against the mattress, thighs parted with your knees tucked towards your chest and the tripod is held between your thighs. exposing the damp spot of fabric practically molded onto the mounds of your lips.
it was honestly pathetic how wet you could get from just a few thoughts of delusion. inappropriately thinking of all the ways you’d take satoru at any time, and place. how knowingly he’d come running like a dog if you’d just say the word.
but you don’t have to say the words — not when satoru’s almost instantly pressing on the onlyfans notification with your username titled in bold.
“freakenuinelyy/n is now live!”
his screen being met with your body on full display during his lecture. he isn’t even in a moral environment to be watching something, so explicit as he makes his way to the nearest bathroom in the building.
and as unusual as it is for you to go live during the middle of the day in satoru’s timezone — he’s never missed a stream of you a day in his life.
satoru watches you through his screen. watching the way you tease yourself through those dangerously thin panties, as your fingers rub over your clothed clit. he loved hearing the soft moans escape from your lips whenever you’d touch yourself, it made the blood flow straight to his dick immediately.
you were like an addictive drug to him as he fumbled around to get himself free from out of his pants. mumbling under his breath once he began stroking himself to you, imagining just how perfectly you’d take him. how fucking beautiful you’d look underneath him while being stretch out by his dick.
he’d watch you tug your panties to the side, pupils blown as he focus on how soaked you were. like you’ve been edging yourself all day just to find relief at the end. satoru groaned at the sight of your hole clenching around nothing, practically begging to be stuffed as he squeezes his cock harder with a pleasurable wince.
your fingers graze over your clit, dipping down to where you’re soaked before gliding your index and middle finger through your slit with a moan as you bit down on your lip. that’s satoru’s favourite part because whenever your fingers dip down and disappear into that tiny hole, he can’t help but replace your fingers with the image of his cock sliding in.
he watches as he fists himself, biting back noises before realizing that your fingers never once dipped inside your pussy. instead you’re reaching for lube, and drizzling it messily over yourself as it drips down the inside of your thighs down the crevices of other areas.
a part of him is hoping that you reach for the gift he sent you, and not some other random subscriber’s gift. satoru wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft, practically strangling it as he pauses his movements in anticipation. feeling the circulation slowly cut off, making him more sensitive as he watches you pull a dildo into the frame.
his dildo. the dildo he shamelessly begged you to use even though you’ve repeatedly told him no. “well, fuck me…” satoru let out a breathlessly chuckle, and threw his head back against the wall behind him as his dick involuntarily twitched in his hand.
this reality felt a little different than how he’d imagined it. his jaw tightened as he watched you glide the silicone between your folds, watching the way your slick coated the length, and how’d he wished it were him.
the size difference drove him absolutely insane, he even started to understand why you thought it wouldn’t fit as his eyes drifted towards the comments.
@torusthroatgoat: no fucking way that things gonna fit
@iswalakum: i’ve never seen dildo look THAT realistic before
@oggoonetter: wait … why’s that dildo look so familiar ??
@dilftojiidk: if you can take that like a champ, let me gift you something even better
@463352cs: is that theblueeyedgoat’s dick ???
satoru closes the comment tab while groaning, before he’s getting numerous notifications from twitter of people tagging him under your page.
“@theblueeyedgoat, @freakenuinelyy/n is using a dildo that looks similar to your dick?!?!!”.
the parasocial subscribers are going crazy. but nothing’s crazier than the jealous pit lodged at the bottom of satoru’s stomach. the way he watches you dip the head of dildo near your entrance, and hears the way you whine at the first attempt to push it in? he’s losing it.
satoru didn’t expect to feel a sense of inferiority… no, he thought watching you struggle to take his dick would be the best thing life had to offer, but that was completely wrong. he’d made the the biggest mistake of his life. and now he’s stuck paying the price — watching you gain pleasure from something that he should’ve tasted for himself.
the camera is shaking as you’re pushing the tip of the dildo against your entrance, struggling to fit the silicone inside. it’s too big, and you can already feel the stretching burn every time you push it deeper.
you’re cursing under your breath, small whimpers falling from your lips as you go for another attempt. this time more assertive than last as you gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling the slow, aching burn stretch you open as the head finally disappears inside of you.
there’s a strained lump in your throat that makes you swallow down hard because there’s no way you’re taking satoru’s ‘dick’ right now, in-front of thousands of people. and within those thousands of people there’s a certain someone watching… locked in a campus bathroom stall with his pants dropped to his ankles and a hand desperately fisting at his cock.
he’s watching you fuck yourself with the dildo he made you — the dildo he replicated just for you and yet he’s gritting his teeth, and tightening his jaw out of pure jealousy.
the way you’re so visibly tight around the silicone. how your breathing staggers each time you push and pull another inch of the toy in and out of you. even how you’re able to accommodate the size of something that looked physically impossible to handle.
it should’ve been satoru inching his way into you — he should’ve been the one splitting you open on his cock. you were supposed to be the one clawing your nails into the flesh of his back, while he felt you struggle to take him as he cooed you through the pain of it all.
or… that’s what he thinks should’ve happened instead of gifting you that stupid, fucking dildo he’s basically been cucking himself with as he watched the way your hole devoured the silicone repeatedly through the screen. thinking about how warm, and tight your insides would be while milking his dick for all he’s worth before he’s shooting a heavy load into the palm of his hand with a desperate groan escaping his throat.
satoru watches as you’re still rearranging your insides on screen while he’s still pulsing out ropes of cum, before he’s opening the chat box again. this time tapping his fingers against his screen.
“theblueeyedgoat has tipped $2000.”
and there’s a message sent along with the donation.
“you’re taking me so good princess. think ya’ can handle the real thing too?”
lowkenuinely tagging the ppl who wanted a part two, hope you enjoy !! ᰔ : @therealkenzieeee , @m1lfl0verrr , @oidloid , @novxccaine , @meennish , @miacutiepatootie , @gojomio , @luvxpink , @eyekoniccs , @grandqueen1533 , @itsthegrabber , @lumiq-q ,
nsfw content mutual!satoru gojo who sends you a molded, replica dildo of his dick.
needless to say, you and satoru have been mutuals on the nsfw side of twitter for a while now. the two of you practically started your accounts around the same time — just two young amateurs trying to make it big.
and eventually it happened. you were able to build a fanbase, though your subscribers were hyper-obsessed with the relationship between you and satoru. the two of you are always flirting back and forth on the for you page, even going as far to comment under each other’s videos for shits and giggles.
‘big dick is back in town.’ satoru would title above the video of him sitting in front of his camera, slouched in the gaming chair with his thighs splayed out exposing his beautifully sculpted dick pressed against his abs. he’s just gotten back from his hiatus as the post skyrockets in views from his rightful return.
you’re lying in bed, finger pads tapping away on your phone as you comment under his video. ‘you mean my town, right?’ you send, and within seconds satoru’s replying to your comment.
@theblueeyedgoat: yeah, but also another town if you know what i mean …
@freakenuinelyy/n: ??? what other town if not mine
@theblueeyedgoat: POUNDTOWNN 😼😼💪🏻
such a joke that could only be achieved by gojo satoru himself, but little did he know that people would begin to ship him with you. resulting in his fans migrating to your page to raid your comments with, ‘collab’, ‘are you and goat dating?’, ‘is there a joint account?’, and millions more. you could honestly say that his audience was yours, and your audience was his.
you’d be lying if you said that you’ve never thought of satoru in such an inappropriate manner, to be honest who wouldn’t? he’s got the ideal body you’ve daydreamed about, the charismatic personality and a gorgeous fucking face to match it. it’s almost annoying really.
but what’s really annoying is the fact that he lives overseas in japan — meaning that if you two ever did want to collaborate you’d be traveling miles away from home just to have sex.
“i could always fly out to you.” satoru suggests over face-time, his camera constantly moving because he can’t stand still as he walks around with his phone. “i mean, logically yeah but it’s not that deep.” you respond with your eyes fixated on the screen before satoru’s rapidly pulling his phone towards his face. “what do you mean it’s not that deep?!” he softly pouts, as if this situation was something serious.
you let out an unbelievable laugh. “i’m saying that it’s not worth you flying over here just for sex.” you specify as his pout deepens even more. “i don’t have to travel there just for sex, what if i just wanted to hang out with you.” he says, blue eyes peering at you through the screen.
there’s a brief pause as you think on it. “then yeah, i guess that’s fine as long as you bring me a souvenir since i’ve never been to japan.” you raise up a hand, holding your pointer finger up with a bright smile.
“a souvenir you say?” satoru repeats slowly, as his childish pout disappears once he hears the words he wants to hear. “a souvenir from japan??!” he grins mischievously, as he watches you nod. “i’ve got a perfect souvenir for you!”
little did you know that two weeks from now you’d be getting a package with a japanese address on it, and there’s only one person it could be sent from — gojo satoru. you open the box carefully, pulling the folds apart before seeing another box, though much smaller with a letter on top of it.
“message me when you’ve received it. it’s a souvenir homemade authentically from japan — love toru ( ^ω^ ).”
you’re reaching for the smaller box, tearing it apart as styrofoam wraps around the edges. you’re pulling the safety cover off to be met with a translucent, pink siliconed dildo. roughly thick in girth, there’s a prominent vein running down the bottom of the shaft and a gorgeous mushroom-shaped tip which looks awfully similar to his.
there’s absolutely no way satoru sent you a replicated mold of his dick. you’re speed-dialing his phone as you hold the shape of his dick in your hand as he answers the phone almost instantly.
“moshi moshiiii.” you could hear his stupid grin through the phone. “satoru what kinda souvenir is this?” you ask stunned and in disbelief as he cracks a laugh. “it’s the souvenir you ask for— personally made by yours truly.” he replies proud of himself.
you’re truly at a loss for words. “i don’t know what possessed you to send this, but you should’ve saved your money.” you said, fully taking in the size of the dildo.
“no, it’s for you.” he replies, “to y’know, prepare yourself for whenever we hang out and… do it.” his voice quiets towards the end of his sentence. “plus! i wanna see you use it, if you don’t mind.” he says softly, hoping that you’d say yes, before he’s frowning at your answer.
Satoru is verrrry grateful for thin walls [18+ mdni]
Satoru leaned against the dorm wall, though it felt so painfully thin he feared he’d fall right through it.
Well, he actually might with the way he’s feverishly pressed up against it—listening tentatively for the next moan to leave your plush lips.
Instead of traditional, stuffy college dorms, the dorms at Jujutsu Technical College are exclusively single rooms. so, while Satoru couldn’t get a room with his best friend, he decided the next best thing was to room right next to him.
However, that meant he had to hear your sloppy little whimpers through the paper-thin walls, forced to listen to you being ruined by his best friend instead of him every day. But maybe—just maybe—Satoru liked it a little.
The muffled thump thump thump of the cheap, but sturdy, wooden headboard banging on the wall echoed throughout Satoru’s dorm. “f-fuck! Sugu—ye-yeah .. nghh—“
God. Do you have any idea what you do to him?
He could imagine you now—back locked in a deeeeep arch, Suguru’s hand fiercely gripping your hip while his other hand rested against your scalp, fingers tangled in your hair to hold you right where he wanted.
Satoru knows it’s utterly pathetic—the way he reaches into his sweatpants and pulls his twitching cock from his cum-stained boxers at the sound of his best friend fucking you.
He knows he shouldn’t. He really, really should stop. But when he catches a thick vein on his shaft, making him let out a moan that only someone who was completely ruined could make, he realizes he can’t stop. Everything is so slick and wet, it’s driving him crazy.
“Yeah—look at how good your sloppy—f-fuck! hole is taking me, baby.” Suguru grunts through gritted teeth—his length rutting against your cunt after your nth orgasm, leaving a creamy ring of your combined messes around his base.
Satoru grips his cock a little tighter, swiping the pre-cum that’s leaked out of his blushed tip with his thumb. A slew of muffled “ah—ah—ah”s come from your drool soaked lips, permeating the walls.
Satoru can’t help but whine into his palm, trying to keep it down as much as humanly possible. His eyes flutter as he fucks his fist faster—hips violently bucking while he tries to match the rhythm of the bed’s incessant creaking.
“Holy f-fuuckk—“ he murmured. If anyone saw him like this, god, he wouldn't even know what to say. How mortifying. His patterned sleep pants lay forgotten on the floor, leaving his boxers to squeeze against his tensed thighs.
“fuuckk — keep fucking me th-at! ngh — fuck, ‘toru!”
…
Unbelievable.
A strangled noise left Satoru’s mouth as he shot pale sticky strands that ran down his balled fist. he spread his fingers looking at the mess he made, face scrunching knowing it’ll be annoying to clean. Still, it wasn’t quite as annoying as his best friend and his girl.
What assholes.
Suguru collapses on top of you, adoring the way you pepper kisses on his shoulders and neck, each one a silent “thank you.”
You start to giggle. “Sugu, you think he heard it?” you whisper breathlessly.
Suguru props himself up, allowing you to see the proud smirk painted on his face. “Well, do you hear him whining anymore?”
Both of your gazes flick toward the wall behind the bed, staring.
Silence.
While you can’t hear anything, you imagine Satoru’s flushed face as he tries to clean his mess as quickly as possible, desperately trying to slow his breathing.
Your imagination is nearly spot on—except you’re missing the slight, knowing grin on his face as he thinks about how he gets to do it all over again tomorrow.
a/n: this is my first fic i’m gonna throw up on everyone ok. comment and praise me if you like it
── .✦ asking bestfriend!gojo for sex advice (wc - 1.6k)
your best friend satoru gojo is the worst person to ask for dating advice. but he's also the only one you trust with this. your first real date in forever is tonight, and you're panicking in his apartment, pacing in a slinky dress that suddenly feels too much.
"satoru," you blurt, cheeks burning. "i... haven't kissed anyone in years. like, properly. what if i suck at it? can you... help? just show me how? so i don't embarrass myself?"
he lounges on the couch, all long limbs and smirking blue eyes, blindfold pushed up like a headband. "you? suck at kissing?" he laughs, but his gaze drops to your lips, lingering. "i don't think so. but sure. c'mere."
you straddle his lap hesitantly, heart hammering. his hands settle light on your hips, casual. "relax. start slow. like this." he cups your jaw, tilting your face down. his lips brush yours—soft, teasing. then firmer, parting them with his tongue. it's electric. he tastes like mint and sugar, licking into your mouth lazy and deep, showing you the rhythm. "see? follow me. good girl, just like that."
you melt into it, kissing back, hands fisting his shirt. his grip tightens. "y-yeah... tilt your head more. open wider. fuck, you're a quick learner." his voice roughens, breath hot against your lips. the kiss turns hungry, his teeth nipping your bottom lip. you whimper, grinding down instinctively, feeling him harden beneath you.
he groans, pulling back just enough to stare, eyes dark. "wait. that's not... you're supposed to save this for the date."
"i know, but—"
satoru pulls back, eyes wide, breath ragged. his hands freeze on your hips, but he doesn't let go. you're still straddling him, lips swollen from kissing, core throbbing from the accidental grind. he glances down at where you're pressed together, his sweats tented obviously. "you trying to kill me here? one second you're asking for kissing tips, next you're... fuck." he shifts, cock twitching under you, and you both hiss.
"sorry! i didn't mean—" you start to scramble off, mortified, but his grip tightens, keeping you in place.
"no, stay." his voice drops, thumb stroking your thigh. blue eyes lock on yours, intense. "just... breathe. okay? dates aren't all tongue and humping. gotta build it up. foreplay. that's what you're missing." he smirks, but it's strained, like he's holding himself back. "lemme show you. properly."
"foreplay?" you echo, pulse racing.
"yeah. like this." his hand slides up your bare thigh under the dress, slow, giving you time to stop him. fingertips ghost over your skin, raising goosebumps. "start light. make him want it." he cups your ass gently, squeezing once. "feel that?"
you nod, biting your lip as heat pools low. he leans in, kissing your neck—soft, open-mouthed, tongue flicking your pulse. "the neck's sensitive. suck here, not too hard." he demonstrates, drawing a moan from you. his free hand trails up your back, fingers dancing along your spine. "and touch him everywhere. not just the obvious spots."
"t-toru..." your hands find his chest, exploring like he said. firm muscle under soft shirt. he shudders when you brush a nipple.
"see? good. now lower." his palm flattens over your stomach, dipping between your legs—but not inside. just presses against your panties, rubbing slow circles over the fabric. "shit… you're soaked already." you're rocking into his hand without thinking. he groans low. "fuck, yeah. perfect."
"i-is this... how you'd do it?" you whisper, hazy.
he stills, eyes darkening. "for you? yeah. but slower. i'd take my time." his finger hooks the edge of your panties, sliding it aside, but pauses. "show me what you learned. touch me."
your hand wraps around his cock under his boxers— pulsing in your grip. you stroke slow like he showed you, thumb swiping the pre-cum beading at the tip and spreading it down. he hisses, hips jerking. "fuck, yeah. just— t-twist a little at the top. shit— jus' like that..."
he rewards you by sliding that finger inside, shallow, then curling. your walls flutter around it. "you like that? feel how full you'd be?" he adds a second, scissoring gentle, thumb on your clit. you moan into his mouth, strokes faltering.
"d-don't stop," he murmurs, nipping your lip. "keep going. imagine it's his cock you're working."
the thought sours something in him. his thrusts his fingers deeper, harder. "or mine. fuck—mine feels better, right?"
"satoru—"
"the couch is too small for this." he pulls his fingers free suddenly, making you whine at the loss. he stands, lifting you with him as if you weigh nothing,
your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. his grip is firm as he carries you to the bedroom, the moonlight from the window casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. he lays you down gently, the dress bunching around your hips, his eyes devouring you—swollen lips, flushed skin, the desperate rise and fall of your chest.
"you're so fucking beautiful like this," he murmurs, voice thick with want, his blindfold still pushed up, those piercing blue eyes locked on yours. "all worked up, wet for me. and it's me, not him, you're thinking about right now, isn't it?"
he doesn't wait for an answer, his hands shoving his sweats down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, already dripping. he strokes himself once, twice, smearing the pre-cum over the head, and you can't look away. "jealousy's a nasty thing, huh?" he says, climbing over you, his weight settling between your thighs. "thinking about you with someone else, some other guy touching you... it makes me want to make sure you forget anyone else's name."
he hooks a finger under your panties, tearing them aside with a sharp rip of fabric, exposing you to the cool air. "no more practice. no more saving it for the date. this is happening now."
he lines himself up, the blunt head pressing against your entrance, already slick from his fingers and your own arousal. "tell me you want this," he murmurs, his breath hot on your neck. "tell me you want me, not him." he pushes in slowly, just the tip, stretching you open, and you gasp, your hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging in.
"s'toru, yesyesyes— p-please, i want you, only you!!—" the words spill out, desperate and true, and he groans, slamming the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt in one rough thrust.
"fuuck— s-s'tight, so perfect for me, baby. you're doin' great," he groans, his voice a low rasp against your ear, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. you whimper, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he holds himself still inside you, the fullness overwhelming, stretching you to the limit.
"a-aaahn... satoru... i-it's too much...!" you gasp, your head falling back against the pillow, your body trembling around his cock. he doesn't move at first, just stays buried deep, letting you feel every inch of him, his hips grinding in a slow circle, pressing against your clit with friction.
"you'll take what i give you." he pants, his lips brushing your ear, his breath hot and minty. "this is what you asked for, right?"
"y-yes..." you moan, your voice breaking as he grinds harder, the sensation building a deep ache in your core. "oh god—" he pulls back almost all the way, the drag of his cock making you whimper at the loss, the wet slide of him leaving you empty for a heartbeat, then thrusts back in, harder this time, the bed frame creaking under the force.
"yeah, take it. take all of me. atta girl," his hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you down to meet each thrust. you cry out, a sharp "ahh!" escaping your lips as he hits that spot deep inside, your walls clenching around him reflexively. "god, you're clenching already... greedy little thing."
he drives into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. "mmph... toru!! h-harder— please— i-i need—" you beg, your hands sliding down his back, nails scraping lightly.
"you were so worried about kissing," he taunts, his voice rough with effort, his thrusts never slowing. "look at you now. such a slut, fucked stupid on my cock."
his thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles as he pounds into you, and you clench around him, your orgasm building fast, a tight coil in your belly. he leans down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue plunging deep, mimicking the rhythm of his hips. you moan into his mouth, your body arching up against him, desperate for more.
"you taste so sweet," he murmurs against your lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "but i need you to cancel that date. right now. take out your phone and text him. tell him you're sick, you're busy, i don't give a fuck—just— shit— cancel it." his thrusts punctuate each word, driving the point home, and you gasp, your mind hazy with pleasure.
"satoru... i can't... i'm—ahh!" you cry out as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, his fingers tightening on your clit.
"you can and you will," he insists, his voice dropping to a possessive grunt. "you're not going anywhere tonight. you're staying here with me, letting me fuck you until you forget your own name. now text him."
it's cause he thinks you're the hottest when you're mean.
he does it constantly too.
in the morning when you're rushing to get ready, he'll steal your coffee mug right as you reach for it, holding it high above his head with that usual grin he does while you glare up at him. "give it back, satoru." he just laughs and takes a slow sip before handing it over, only after you've already started cursing under your breath.
at the grocery store he'll throw the most random shit in the cart just to watch your face twist up in annoyance. one time it was a jar of those pickled radishes you hate, then three different kinds of stupidly expensive protein powder he doesn't even like. and every time you take something out he just puts it right back in. by the time you get to checkout you're hissing at him through gritted teeth and he's biting his lip trying not to laugh.
when you're trying to cook dinner he crowds you at the stove, arms wrapped around your waist from behind, chin on your shoulder while he "helps." really he's just reaching over to turn the heat up too high or sneak tastes straight from the pan, burning his tongue and then complaining dramatically until you snap at him to move. (ps he never does)
even when you're on the phone with a friend there's no escaping satoru. he'll sit across from you, making exaggerated faces, mouthing dumb shit, or worse—he'll slide his foot up your calf under the table, slow and teasing, until you're shooting daggers at him while trying to keep your voice normal. the second you hang up he's already laughing, hands up in mock surrender like he didn't just spend ten minutes trying to derail your entire conversation.
so yes.
your boyfriend, satoru gojo, loves pissing you off.
tonight you're on the phone again, this time with your sister, trying to have a normal conversation about weekend plans while satoru lounges on the couch beside you. he's been quiet for the first few minutes, which should have been your warning.
instead of annoying you the usual way... he waits until you're mid-sentence then drops to his knees in front of you without a word.
you shoot him a glare, mouthing "what the fuck" as he pushes your legs apart, hands sliding up your thighs.
"yeah, i'm still here," you say into the phone, voice steady even as he hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, tugging them down. "no, nothing’s wrong... go on continue."
he grins up at you, all sharp teeth and wicked blue eyes, then leans in and drags his tongue slowly up your slit. your breath hitches as you bite your lip hard, gripping the phone tighter.
"sorry, what were you saying?" you manage, trying to sound normal while satoru licks into you like he’s starving.
you hate how he knows exactly what he's doing. one hand keeps your thigh spread wide, the other pressing low on your stomach to hold you still while he works you open with his mouth.
your free hand flies to his hair, fingers tightening in the white strands as you fight to keep your voice even. "mm-hm… yeah, that sounds good. next saturday?"
satoru hums against you, the vibration shooting straight through your core. you clench your jaw, thighs trembling around his head.
he pulls back just enough to look up at you, "baby keep talking," he whispers before diving back in. this time he's quicker, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue fast and sharp exactly the way that always makes you finish.
you're dripping down his chin and he doesn't care. if anything it makes him hungrier. he groans quietly into your pussy, the sound muffled but filthy, and you have to fake a cough to cover the whimper that almost escapes.
"sorry yeah, i'm l-listening," you say quickly, voice a little too breathy. for a few more mins, your sister keeps chatting on the other end while satoru eats you out like he's trying to make you break.
you yank his hair harder in warning. this time he moans louder, pinning you down, two fingers sliding into you without warning.
"oh god" you breathe, so quiet you hope she doesn’t hear.
"what?" your sister asks.
"nothing," you snap, a little too sharp. "just… stubbed my toe."
satoru laughs against your cunt, this bastard. he adds a third finger, stretching you, pumping them deep while his mouth stays latched onto your clit. you're so close already, you feel it as your thighs shake uncontrollably.
you try to close your legs but he won't let you. his shoulders holding you open as he devours you. every lick, every suck, every curl of his fingers is all too much. all he wants is to push you closer to the edge while you're forced to keep talking.
"yeah… sounds fun," you force out. "you know what, i'll text you later—i gotta go."
you hang up before she can respond, tossing the phone onto the cushion.
the second the call ends you grab his hair with both hands and grind against his face, no longer holding back.
"you fucking asshole."
satoru groans loudly now that he doesn't have to be quiet. he looks up at you through his lashes, eyes glazed and smug even while his mouth is buried in your pussy.
"cum for me," he mumbles against you, the words messy and wet. "baby, please... you're so so so hot shit."
your back arches as you do, a broken moan tearing from your throat as the orgasm hits you.
when you finally push his head away he sits back on his heels, lips and chin glistening, breathing hard. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, that infuriating smirk already back in place.
"see?" he starts. "told you you’re hottest when you’re pissed."
biting ur boyfriend toji :> trying to empty my drafts!! i honestly dk what this is lol, i wrote this almost a year ago. hope you like it * ^_^;;
he’s got you half draped over his chest, your cheek squished against warm skin, still a little dazed from all the sex you two had earlier. toji’s hand is heavy on your back, tracing slow and lazy strokes like he’s smoothing you out after it all.
“you bite too much,” he suddenly mutters but there’s no real harshness in his voice.
you hum, dragging your teeth lightly over his collarbone again just to be annoying. not even hard this time—just enough to feel him tense under you.
“. . .see?” he huffs, fingers pressing firmer into your hip. “just proved my point.”
“you like it,” you mumble against him, lips brushing over the faint marks you left earlier. there’s a darker one near his shoulder and you press a soft kiss over it like you’re proud.
he goes quiet for a second. then his hand slides up, tilting your chin so you actually look at him.
“didn’t say i don’t,” he admits, thumb dragging over your bottom lip like he’s checking for damage—even though you’re the one who did all the biting. “just didn’t think you had it in you.”
you roll your eyes but it’s weak. you’re too soft and too melted into him right now to be properly annoyed.
“you bring it out,” you say.
that makes him smirk. “yeah? that supposed to be my fault?”
you don’t answer. instead, you lean your face down again and sink your teeth into the side of his cheek—not hard but enough to make him suck in a breath.
his grip tightens immediately.
“woman,” he murmurs, his voice dropping rougher now. his other hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, not pushing you away—just holding you there. “keep that up and i’m not letting you rest.”
before you can even react, his palm comes down against your ass—giving you a quick smack. just hard enough to make you jolt against him.
“been real mouthy too,” he adds.
you suck in a breath, glaring at him but it’s ruined by the way you press closer instead of pulling away.
“you were just babying me,” you mumble.
“i still am,” he says, brushing your hair out of your face. his thumb lingers at your jaw. “but don’t get it twisted.”
his hand slides back down, squeezing your hip.
his fingers dig in just a little harder, like a warning, like he’s testing how much you’ll take before you start squirming again. you can feel the way he’s watching you—like he already knows you’re not gonna listen.
“look at you,” he mutters, almost to himself, thumb brushing over your lip again when you part it slightly. “so dirty.”
you huff at that but it comes out breathy and not convincing at all.
then your fingers curl slightly against his chest, nails dragging just enough to leave a faint line this time.
he pushes his fingers in your mouth deeper. you almost choke.
“greedy too?” he murmurs, almost amused, giving your ass another slower, heavier smack this time. “can’t keep your hands or your teeth to yourself?”
you shiver but you don’t stop. you don’t pull away.
if anything, you just press closer, like you want more.
his fingers are still in your mouth when you look up at him, all wide-eyed for a second and he just watches you—completely unfazed, like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do.
“yeah,” he murmurs, quieter now, thumb pressing down on your tongue just enough to make you squirm. “that’s what i thought. weren’t so quiet earlier, eh?”
you make a soft sound around his fingers
but you don’t pull away. if anything, your hands tighten slightly against him.
he notices that too.
“ahh, don’t act shy now,” he adds, tilting his head a little, studying your face. “you were doing all that biting like you had something to prove.”
his fingers slip out of your mouth slow, dragging against your lip and before you can even say anything, his hand is back on your waist—pulling you down harder against him.
then he leans in, brushing his lips against yours, barely giving you a second to react before his tongue slides into your mouth. it’s messy, demanding and hot, like he’s claiming every inch of you. you part for him, matching him clumsily at first, but he groans low at your taste, teeth grazing your bottom lip as his tongue pushes deeper.
he’s pressing you flush against him. every sloppy, needy movement makes your head spin and when you finally moan around him, he just hums against your lips, biting and sucking them in turns, like he can’t get enough.
it’s wild, messy and consuming—and somehow, you love that he’s completely unbothered by how out of control you are.
you let out a quiet breath when he pulled away, your body trembling, reacting before your brain even catches up.
“sensitive?” he mutters.
you glare at him again and it only makes his mouth twitch.
your nails drag over his chest again—sharper this time—and he exhales through his nose, grip tightening instantly. “you’re hard. again.”
“it’s your fault,” he mumbles but there’s something heavier in his voice now. “you never learn to stay still.”
his hand slides lower, fingers stopping at the start of your panties.
“you keep testing me,” he adds, his voice right against your ear now.
his hand goes lower.
that sends a shiver straight through you but you still don’t back off.
instead, stubborn as ever, you lean in—
and bite him again.
there’s a pause. a real one this time.
then he lets out a quiet, almost disbelieving breath, like you just proved him right all over again.
Synopsis. How long does it take for the demon king, Ryomen Sukuna, to figure out why you summoned him? Three hours. How long until you wonder whether you’ll make it out of the bed aIive? Well…
Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, demon king! true form! Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s second mouth, big tongues, oraI (fem rec.), he’s BIG, making it fit, cervíx kíssing, tummy buIges, MARATHONS, creampíes, ínnapropríate use of POWERS, unprotected, DOUBLE the cúm, cúmplay, slight bréedíng, d slipping, HEADLOCKS, manhandIing, he calls you “master”, p talking, p sIapping, squírting, he goes FÉRAL, ríding his second tongue, spítting, overstím, making Sukuna whíne, breaking the bed, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 9.2k
A/N. RlP that puthy ayyyy!!
Lo and behold, late tonight found you boredly thumbing through pages upon yellow, moth-eaten pages of a dusty demonology textbook you’d acquired from the very back of your campus library.
And maybe it was sheer tedium, maybe it was your recent lack of…satisfying exploits - but the man in the illustration you were currently ogling at was smokin’ hot.
“Ryomen Sukuna: King of Demons.”
Your eyes greedily skim from his tall, towering figure, to those naturally chiseled abs. And was that a second mouth on his sculpted front?
Television whirring softly in the background, you thumb over the short, scrawled-out incantation right underneath his picture. According to what the book claimed, it was for those who wanted to summon the king. Oh…couldn’t hurt. Right?
Biting your lip, you let out a huff of disbelieving laughter before starting to incant it.
Stuttering, unsure.
And once you’re done, well, nothing happens.
You set aside the book with a sigh, turning to the tv that was now only playing repeated, flickering static. What else did you think would happen? Pressing frustratedly on the remote, as if-
“Summoned me, mama?”
Fuck.
The book you were just reading described Sukuna as big - but he was big.
And standing right in front of you.
Well over seven feet, muscular frame taking up every inch of your cozy living room. You can’t help but gape at everything from the cherry blossom-pink strands of slicked-back hair, to the thick rings tattooed ‘round his feet.
And he had two of everything - two sets of big, beefy arms just covered in veins that popped when he crossed his arms, two sets of dangerously crimson irises that roamed over your cutely trembling figure sprawled across the couch.
You had. Summoned. A demon.
And he really did have a second mouth gashed across his stomach.
“Or should I say…” Sukuna’s husky baritone sends stark shivers skittering across your skin, something he’s sure to not miss. He lets out a low whistle, “-master?”
“Wh-who are you?” You’re sputtering out stupidly, even though you already knew the answer to that question. It was right there, boldly titling a section in a textbook that you were two seconds away from throwing at the demon’s head right now.
“Heh- as if those puny human arms could do much damage to me.” He’s gruffing out, “I might even like it.”
It hits you in an instant then. Sukuna’s plump lips curl ever-so-smugly when your mouth drops at the realization that he’d just read your mind.
What the…fuck.
Your heart pulsates so loudly that you almost miss his next few words-
“Language, mama.” Sukuna’s feet thud! thud! thud! closer to you, every step reverberating an echoing shake of your apartment infrastructure. He kneels until he’s almost eye-level with you, and you can’t help but shiver at the heat radiating off in scorching waves from his hulking body. “Ryomen Sukuna, King of Demons.”
“W-well I’m-”
“I-I-I already know who ya are, silly brat.” He mocks, with a roll of his eyes. Rude, you huff. “The first dumb lil’ human to summon me in eons. And the first one so pretty, too- keh, don’t let that get into your head, just tell me what you summoned me here for.”
You’re shaking your head frantically, every ounce of will in your body trying not to think about just how you’d summoned the fucking demon king because you were…horny. “Can’t you just- I don’t know- leave? Go back?”
“Doesn’t work that way.” He seems to be enjoying your pain more n’ more by the second, both devilish mouths curving up into a smile that showed off his gleaming canines. Sharp.
“What if I take it back?” You try to reason, hands throwing exasperatedly in the air. “Un-summon you so you can go back to your…wherever you came from, and I don’t have to tell my landlord about changing the rent.”
You probably looked a mess right about now. But, at least in your defense, how were you supposed to know that spontaneously-borrowed demonology books might actually work?
And Ryomen Sukuna looks at you with all the patience of someone - a demon - that well and fully expects you to have known. “Stupid human. First you summon the king and then you want to send him back? I should curse you and fifty of your generations for this.”
Heaving out a sigh, he seats himself on that cottony carpet of yours. So monstrous, so strong that every piece of loose furniture is thrown two inches in the air once he does.
You yelp as you cling onto the tufted cushion of your dear sofa.
“I, Ryomen Sukuna, am contracted to stay in the human world until I accomplish the task my new…master has summoned me for.” He drawls out, pinkish brows quirking. “So spit it outta that pretty lil’ head now before I should hope you know how to take care of the demon king.”
You breathe, voice as fragile as if it was about to shatter into a zillion pieces against the slightest gust of air. “Take care…of a demon…king.”
“The demon king.”
Great, your brand-spankin’ new roommate was the king of demons.
“F-first things first.” You move to get up from your helpless position, trying not to let your knobbly knees trembly unsteadily as Sukuna watches you with interest.
Shit, even seated he was such a staggering size.
All rippling muscles and big, big…
Shaking your head to rid it of thoughts you knew he’d enjoy, you disappear into your laundry room to find the biggest oversized t-shirt you had stored away.
Striding back into your living room, you find him still sitting obediently for you. Unimpressed at your findings, yet still obedient. You’re presenting the piece of cloth back to him like a shield, “Wear a damn shirt.”
For your sake more than anything. Because it didn’t matter what baggy white pants Sukuna had on, having his upper half so shirtless and…attractive really wasn’t helping.
Fuck, if you thought the illustration was hot then it didn’t do enough justice for the real thing.
“Haaah? Stupid human customs. This get ya silly brain distracted or what?” Sukuna grumbles, though one of his four arms reaches out for the t-shirt. Close. And before you can snatch your fingers away, just one of his long blackened nails skims your sensory pads.
Too close.
Just one split-second touch and the king’s sultry eyes widen, nostrils flaring a fraction once he takes in a deeeep breath. You can’t force your eyes away from the tight, toned heavals of his cushy pecs fast enough, snapping your eager gaze back to his as if nothing ever happened.
Only to be met with a leer. Sleazy. “Though, maybe I don’t mind, mama.”
You find the rational part of your brain pricking with slight concern at the whiplash-like change in Sukuna’s tone. Though, most of it is overcome with utter relief as he wears the top.
Even though it doesn’t change much.
Despite being a t-shirt so big on you that it travelled all the way down to your knees, it barely even covers half of his cursed second mouth. Pulled so taut that you could map the exact circumference of his puffy, maroon nipples. And the slightest movement makes your tense living room ring out with a threatening riiiip–!
And on either side of Sukuna’s ridged obliques, he’d punctured gigantic holes for his two extra hands to flex through. Large and intimidating.
Raising a teasing brow, “This better, master?”
No, your mouth waters. And yet, somehow manages to shape out, “Y-yes.” Desperately whirling your pupils anywhere but at him, they finally find themselves landing upon the tick-tick-ticking clock on the far end of your wall. 12:01AM it showed. “And it’s late, I have early lectures tomorrow so…”
You didn’t. And you hastily pick up the demonology book from your coffee table to make sure that Sukuna couldn’t sense lies. Given the little you know about him already, you wouldn’t be surprised.
“So you can make yourself at home on the…” You’re wincing, realizing that your shabby couch was much too small for an above-average height human let alone a fucking demon.
“Hmmm?” Before you can do something stupid, like offer Sukuna your own bed - or better yet, you right along with the bed - he clicks! his thick fingers. And in a sudden puff of smoke, your humble sofa had transfigured - exactly the same, but bigger.
Big enough to fit him.
Shit. Your tummy lurches, he really was the real deal.
And even though you felt slightly disgruntled about the way this all-new furniture was jostling your poor television stand, you’re giving him a jerky nod in reply. Alarmed, you dart towards your own bedroom with a soft gasp of something like ‘goodnight!’
Hopefully when you woke up this would all be some strange fever dream.
.
.
.
You couldn’t sleep.
Though, that’s not for a lack of trying - no, according to your glaring phonescreen, the time was 2:53AM and you’d spent almost three hours tossing n’ turning fussily in your bed.
And it was all Ryomen Sukuna’s fault - well, indirectly.
Because you might not have heard even the faintest peep from him since you’d slammed your bedroom door shut, but you mind still raced a mile a minute over the fact that he was inevitably there.
And the fact that…you gulp, your thighs squeezing together through flimsy cotton shorts. You were still as horny as when you first summoned him.
…Fuck it.
Your patterned sleep shorts end up on a sad heap on the floor, padded digits gliding over just the swollen hood of your clit. “Sh-shiiit.”
By now your legs are splayed nice and close, heart curdling in your lower belly once you reach for that familiar second drawer on your bedside table. The one that’s hidden away. The one that opens up to show off a hot pink rose toy you kept for nights just like this.
Though, usually you didn’t have a demon sleeping over.
But you digress! Sukuna would be none-the-wiser; the demonology book had mentioned his superhuman olfaction, but it said nothing about super-hearing abilities.
They also did mention - several cautionary times - about the risks of summoning a demon, and how a summoner and demon shall live together as long as the task dictates. Sometimes even forever, with the contract sharing immortality.
So…
With this in mind, you’re biting down on the gummy insides of your cheek to push back the heavy pants that battle to depart. Eardrums perked in the direction of your door, your fingers scratch impatiently against the power button near the base and let the sinful bzzzzz knock on each of your four walls.
Not a sound from Sukuna. Good.
The sparkly tip of your cute lil’ toy kisses your clit and you moan, smearing it in a wet little glissade around n’ around.
It was sooo wet - your needy pussy. Even more so than usual, at this point your jittery thighs were just coated in a fresh lacquered layer of syrupy slick. Drenching down to your silky bedsheets and ringing out the most pornographic squelch after squelch.
“Fuh-fuuuck–” You’re whining, watery peripherals locked on the frigid vibrator tip teasing perfect eights near your sloppy hole.
The plump crowned tip of your toy was such a pretty shade of ruddy pink - one that reminded you so much of Sukuna. Shit…maybe this was a bad idea. Because all you could think about right now was whether he would-
No, no you can’t go there.
Spanking your throbbing clit with the firm base of it, silvery strands of slick dangle and squirt out from you repeatedly. Wanting and wanting, and no matter how much - you wanted more.
Probably.
“S-su…Kuna-” You spit a hot mass of webbed saliva that dollops down the tip of your rose toy, promptly aligning it in front of your dripping cunt. In front of where you wanted him- it the most before-
“Battery low…powering off.”
Heart plummeting to right between your legs, you take one look at the flashing battery indicator on your rose toy and sigh. “Fucking hell.”
“S’where I’m from.”
“Fuck!” You drop both your vibrator and your jaw to jerk your head towards the origin of that low, rasping, unfortunately familiar bass.
And there, hunched right in front of your now-open bedroom door, was Ryomen Sukuna. Two of his bulging arms homed right above the banister to your entrance, helping him lean down. Other two crossed over his bulky chest, grinning. “That’s the objective, brat.”
Perhaps you’re simply frozen, perhaps you like the way that Sukuna’s half-lidded eyes were rovering allll over your body without a shred of embarrassment.
“H-haven’t you heard of knocking?” You’re whimpering, sticky thighs closing in together with a stinging plap!
And Sukuna has the audacity to look almost disappointed when he can’t see that heavenly sight between your legs anymore. Stepping one foot - two - into the clouded headiness of your bedroom. The pressure in the air was so thick that the maneuver makes your skin prickle with frosty goosebumps.
He’s ignoring your previous question. Snickering, “I know you were thinkin’ about me, mama.” Closer. “I know you were moanin’ my name while you toyed with that pretty lil’ pussy. I could smell that you were in sweet ovulation ever since ya gave me this damn t-shirt.” Too close. His capped knees strike the edge of your mattress, making it groan underneath the weight - and you felt like doing much the same right about now. “I know why you summoned me here.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Two.
Three.
Before you open your cottony mouth- “W-want you, Sukuna- please.”
And one minute Sukuna’s hovering over the end of your bed, colossal figure casting a shadow over your body - the next, he has two meaty palms slapping down on your ankles. Kissing your lips, kissing your thighs.
He’s draaaagging you from your position near the very tippity-top of your pillows to him.
Down, down, down.
All the way until half of your ass dangles off the bedframe until he cups a ravenous handful of it. Tittering, Sukuna’s kneeling - the king is kneeling - on your bedroom floor with a dull thud! that makes your cunt flutter.
“Ohhh look at ‘er throbbing already.” He’s tittering, hazy gaze clinging to your adorably squirming body as if a moth to flame. The honed edges of his nails trace all along your thighs, raw carnal need. “That greedy f’me, human?”
“P-pleeeease—” You’re gasping, your own nails clawing red, red train tracks along his thoroughly veined forearms.
One spank of his doughy soft-tipped fingers exactly where your slobbery hole was leaking the most, and the sweltering hot wetness of it is almost dizzying. You watch with your mouth agape as Sukuna brings his treacly covered digits down to his stomach mouth, letting it sluuuurp all the dewy goodness of your sugarcoated slick. “That all you can say?”
Another clingy slap brings you out of your sweet reverie- you’re hiccuping out a scratchy, “N-nooo. I wan’ your mouth, Sukuna- ngh, I want-” You can’t stop your eyes from drifting away to his toned front, that mouth.
And Sukuna notices, of course, he does.
“Ohhh, ya really are a greedy lil’ thing, huh?” For a second, you swear his bloody lids widen in sharp surprise. Before Sukuna throws his head back with a cackle- “Of course, master, anythin’ ya want.”
Oh, that little nickname makes you arch.
Roughened, calloused hands crack your legs apart until the rounded curves of your knees hit your tits. Sloshing out a watery clump of spittle that puddles all over your overspilling slit, “But first, we gotta stretch this lady out reeeeal wide.”
You can’t even say a word, you can’t even register what he’s saying before Sukuna hunches over your damn bed and gives your pulsing pussy a good French kiss.
And just as monstrously big he was - his tongue was just the same.
Putting your rose toy to shame, he’s prying open your gluey pussylips with a single swipe of his filthy muscle. Simmering tastebuds splashing soggy smears all along every nook n’ cranny of your cunt, the underside of his tongue comes thudding down your heated clit with a harsh thwack!
“Nghhhh– fuck, Sukuna”
“Can’t hear ya, pretty mama.” He’s groaning into your slick-glossed folds, the carnal vibrations making your heaving chest rip with such raw squeals. “Louder. Make those hah- pretty noises louder f’me.”
The fat of his tongue was licking you up deliciously. Urging out bucketloads of honeyed slick, bucketloads of moans upon moans upon moans- “M-more- mmpf!”
“Not you, brat.” Sukuna bites out, though his strained throat trembles with amusement at the way your cute voice pitches. Thrashing as one upper hand treks up to muffle your unhinged mouth, he makes such a big show of letting your pouring sap sliiiiide down his open tongue. “Shut up n’ let me talk to her.”
Slurring slurps upon slurps that thunder in his ears like his favorite song, each n’ every one that he nods along to. Such a lecherous conversation.
“Mhm. Mhmmm, you’re heh- right.” His scorching hot breath tickles your pussy, and you can feel the way his handsome smirk curves into your aching flesh. “Yeah, she is fuckin’ filthy, huh? What a needy girl…”
Every gyrating motion of his head grinding the tip of his nose into your achy clit, pressing down like his favorite toy button. N’ dragging your tender nub up and down up and down up and down.
Clammy hips lurching the perfect curvature off of your springy mattress, your cute whines slip through his thickened fingers. “I-inside, want you- haaah-”
To which the only answer you get is Sukuna pressing down to shove your head into the softened pillows, snarling. Gritting his lustrous canines in a smile as his skin tingles with power-
Your perspiration-stuck forehead crinkles at the feeling of atoms and axioms stressing to a stop in the air all around you. Crackling with such power.
“What are you- oh.” And then you’re kissing - not just anyone, but the king of demons’ second mouth. Transferred all the way from where it was slashed across his stomach right up to the pulpy mountain of his palm. Gooey tongue plunging past your lips and into your own maw- “Ngh- fuck! Su-Kuna- Kunaaa–”
“Hear that? Callin’ the king ‘Kuna’.” Sukuna tuts, nibbling along the outer lips of your cunt and leaving bitemarks for days. “N’ for that, suck my tongue a lil’ bit.” Pressing even deeper, “C’moooon, can feel the way you’re drooling underneath me. Open that mouth, mama.”
And how could you not let your gasping lips droop even further pathetically open?
Because the taste of his slithering tongue was so addictive, like mulled wine and the sweetest of something that made an urge inside your fuzzy mind yearn. Your lips swirl around his probing muscle and suck-
“There we go. Theeeere we go. Shit, the dirtiest lil’ human I’ve e-encountered my whole life- heh, where the fuck have ya been my whole life?”
Punishing you, punishing your pussy with a barreling crowned tip of his digits smooching your flooded entrance.
Drawing delicate lil’ hearts all over your rubbery hole before he flicks at your gummy orifice and sinks in. All the way till his attractive, stocky knuckle was just winking up at him from underneath your saturated lips as if to say hello.
All glossy and soaked-through. Beast-like nails thankfully retracted, Sukuna’s fingers were just so thick that you could almost taste the fat circumference of him in your throat.
Just feel him swab every inch of your mushy insides without even trying, curling into every sweet ridge and geyser that makes your wailed whines sing. Louder and louder. The knotted mess in your belly tighter and tighter.
Oh-so-loud even through his unrelenting hold on you, you’re feeling your dizzy pupils circle and circle the whites of your eyes before sliding all the way back.
“Should banish ya for that.” He’s tugging you to and fro with both his broiling hot maw and his fingers toying with your pussy. Eyeing the way you spurt out something so thickly viscous that it streaks down his wrist; he lets the stray excess slather all over your sensitive clit and suckles. “But I liiiike you- like this pretty pussy. What a cutie she is.”
Pussydrunk. You had the big, bad king of curses pussydrunk.
You don’t know whether he’s talking about you or your cunt and right now you don’t even have enough brain power to wonder.
Not when Sukuna’s second tongue rolls straight inside your unhinged maw, the scratchy graze of his buds driving you wild. The slap of his tongue against the roof of your mouth fills your dazed eyes with such copious volumes of tears.
Ones that make him gluttonous. He is a demon, after all.
You almost feel as if you’re about to break into hysterics once his parched, cursed mouth rovers all over the caramel-salted beads of your tears. Lapping n’ lapping it up off of your teary face.
There’s a sudden plop! from below you, and you’re ogling once you feel your elastic walls stretch out even more under a second- third one of Sukuna’s fat fingers. Prying your syrupy pussyfolds aside with his teeth, he’s staring up into your heart eyes dead-on.
Scissoring them inside you, the knobbled fringes of his fingerpads whack back and forth into the targeted crevices of your sweetest spots. Probin’ into spots you didn’t know existed.
Holy shit, if his fingers were this big then how huge would his cocks be?
“Chehhh- don’ know where you’re droolin’ more from, here or there. Filthy human.”
Massive palm lumbering over your mouth to knock the gusts of wind off your lungs and make you bask in the wiped puddles of spit you’d made on his hand.
You’re bubbling out in even more tears and mewls. “I-I’m so close.” Stuttered cadence reaching such a feverish high point, the insides of your thighs burn as you meet his thoroughly plapping mouth. “Gonna- gonna…”
“Yeah? Better cum soon before I make ya pay for makin’ this mess on me, brat.” He’s gruffing ‘round your pulsating clit, rumbles making you see white. One spank to your dripping pussymound, the other to right on your g-spot. “Hop to it, human- cum f’me. Cum.”
You didn’t need to hear the pressurized pop! of your eardrums to know you were cumming, because Sukuna’s mouth smiles against your lips. Both of them.
Slow, sensual while he dragged you heedlessly through your high. No matter how much your stimulated body wriggled and wrenched though the white-hot bliss, you were no match for his complete strength.
Desperate.
He’s lapping up every. single. ounce of your gushing ribbons of slick like he was a man starved, and it was hitting the back of his throat in decorative gulps.
Sukuna’s snarling canines entrap your pulsing clit, tugging— “What a goood fuckin’ girl. Ya like that? Like cumming all over the king’s face?” It makes the tips of his ears burn flaming red to watch the way your toes curl, panting. “Sweet. Sooo fucking sweet.”
So much leaking out of you and yet, it still wasn’t enough.
Still pumping your goopy cunt with solid thrusts, he’s striking your weepy hole with a slab of saliva that only leaves you wetter. The razor-sharp hit of it making the darkness behind your closed lids burst with stars.
“P-please.” Your spit-slicked lips trembly non-stop, bleary eyes fighting to focus down at Sukuna. Where he was still addicted.
“Hmmm?”
The mounds of your heels rest on his bulky shoulders and start to weakly push, “Please- pleeeease, m’s-so sensitive, Kuna- hck!”
“Oh?” His deep tone comes out almost…delighted. Thick locks of blushed pink plastered all over Sukuna’s sweaty forehead, and he has to spy up at your adorably awe-struck expressions through his long lashes. “S’that sooooo?”
Mean. He was so mean - and the only thing meaner than Ryomen Sukuna himself was both of his tongues.
The one making out with your pussy steals another drawling drag over your quivering pussy, and the other shoves his lengthy muscle so far deep in your throat that he can almost taste your shocked whimpers.
“Fuh-fuuuuck–!”
“Told ya already- that’s the heh objective, silly brat.” Sukuna’s hissing out as he finally, finally pulls away from your pussy with a resounding, claggy mwah! A similar plop! sounding from your mouth when he sets you free from that, too.
The gulp of scorching air you’re drinking in almost chokes in your throat once you get a good look at Sukuna.
The entirety of his pointed chin, up to the curves of his high cheekbones was just covered in a thick topping of your slick. Glistening rivulets of it hitting your open thighs with pap! pap! pap! You could barely see his eyes through those mussed-up bangs of his - but you could tell they were wine-red and just as drunk, glassy, gone. Overworked tongue gliding slowly all across his glossy lower lip.
And was he- was Sukuna blushing?
“Oi, don’t think stupid shit.” His grumbling cuts through your whirlwind of thoughts, rouge-dusted skin flushing even darker.
Without another word, Sukuna darts his peripheries over at the splashed pools of your dumbstruck spit on his palm - his now-normal palm - and smirks. “Keh- so messy.” And before you can rebuke, before you can bluff, he spanks his drooly hand over your cunt and smears it down everywhere.
“Sh-shit, stop teasin’.” You huff and puff, unable to look away from the huge bulge that was tenting Sukuna’s billowy pants. He looked big…more than big, actually. And your thighs clench as you wonder whether twice of everything applied down there, too. “Wan’ you s-so badly, Kuna.”
“Huuuh? Don’t tell me that human brain o’ yours is cockdrunk already.” He scoffs, catching your gawking. “Impatient impatient. I haven’t even accomplished your first request, spoiled brat.”
“What first…”
Oh.
Oh.
The leaden ball in your throat grows about tenfold as Sukuna straightens up from his sexy slouch, showing off the way the lower half of his too-tight t-shirt was so drenched that it was see-through now.
Sopping even wetter by the second when his other maw slobbers with torrents of greedy drivel at the just the sight of you. Drooling through the fabric. “Guess we got a lil’...impatient.” He thumbs over the mess he’s created.
Just at sight of you.
Pulling- ripping that useless shirt off of him, Sukuna lets his fat, massive stomach tongue flop! out between your boneless legs. Fuck.
Striking you with the flat underside of his oversized tastebuds, proudly licking up the fresh batch of slippery slick that’d just begun pouring out from between your folds. Anticipating. Tense.
Filthy.
“Would ya look at that?” Sukuna croons with that mean tonality from above, two arms wrangling your legs pinned open. Wiiiide so that his cursed maw can fit between. Another hand roaming down to his bulge and massaging, “Was just complainin’ about being ‘s-s-sensitive’ but look at ya now.”
Before you can even blink, his colossal tongue constricts out until it’s about two, no- maybe even three feet long. And just as thick, too, he has to swirl n’ swirl all over your drenched inner thighs, the crevice of your pussy, your tight hole before being able to fit just the tip inside.
“Oh my- o-oh- ohhh fuck!” You’re shrilling with cracked vocals, feeling the slushy inches of his tongue crawl past your walls.
Shit. He felt even bigger than he looked - and that was saying something.
Sukuna’s stomach mouth was just so biiiiig that he wasn’t easing even halfway inside your awaiting cunt before the ridged texture of his tongue scratches your g-spot. He doesn’t even have to try until he’s stretching out your pulsing pussy in ways you’d never even imagined before.
Suddenly thankful for the way the king had trained your gummy walls to open up just earlier, you’re clawing at your best, soaked-through bedsheets. Fisting them. Tearing through.
“What happened to ya?” Sukuna croaks out in a thickened voice, leaning over to change up the angle so that his second tongue was pinpointing your tenderest orifices. Purposefully flicking over to peck your cervix before he slobbered allll over your magical spot. “Not so t-talkative now, huh?”
And it was true - just about the only thing you’re managing through the masses of drool overflowing your mouth were broken syllables of “Yes!”
Only to get strangled inside of your throat all over again when he stretches out his tongue and lets it slather your heated flesh with a clingy coating of salivated spit. Probing and probing oooout until he somehow skims over your throbbing clit.
You’re letting out the cutest moans of his name, so loud that you faintly think your neighbors will have a thing or two to say. “K-Kunaaa—” If you make it that far, that is. “P-please, can’t any nghhh- longer.”
“Again, mama?”
“Yes, yeeees- fuck!” You don’t know where you’re fountaining more from, thick drool seeping from both sets of your lips. Every slap! of Sukuna’s tongue makes you buck even more animalistically, “Please. Please, m’not gonna…”
You feel a clawed hand hang off of the curve of your lips, tugging on your glissading body so that you crawl backwards and hit Sukuna’s pink happy trail with a spank!
“So fuck back in hngh- t’me, human.” He groans, holding you stockstill until you can do nothing but drag and trawl the stinging mounds of your ass over his sculpted front. Guiding you to pound back, to rut– “Ride me. Ride me.”
Your mouth floods with fresh flints of heat and drivel, “Wh-what?”
“Fuckin’ ride my tongue like a good girl.”
Shivering, it’s all you can do to plunge your hips in such a messy back and forth. Core tensing, pussy sloshing slick, head bobbling like one of those stupid dolls. Long tongue reaching eeeeeverywhere, every time you guide him to your most favorite spots - his, too - he gives you a congratulatory swat of his perky tip.
Grunting, “Faster now. Faster.”
On shaky legs, your tempo is so fuckin’ messy that you feel your skin flare up until it’s as if you were melting. Repeatedly.
Melting all over Sukuna’s girthy tongue, where he was furiously pumping in and out of you. Your knees creak, letting him drill the curve of his plump budded muscle into your g-spot. In a deep kiss over n’ over n’ over–
And with a final sluuuurp, you’re falling apart on the king’s tongue all over again. Your high sprinting all down your bent spine as if it was the first time, no less intense.
No less sudden. No less leaving you yelping.
“Oh- oh my god-”
“Jus’ your cute ‘Kuna’ s’fine, brat.” Sukuna has the audacity to giggle - giggle - at the way your dazed eyes criss-cross apple sauce. And it was so cute how your pussy couldn’t stop throbbing and creaming around his mouth. “What a slutty pussy ya have.”
You tremble with the bolting aftershocks of your orgasm, the high making your brain a stupid fuzz of nothingness. “S-so sensitive-”
“Yeah yeah, she’s sensitive.” Forcing your mouth to fall into a perfect oh! when he promptly slaps your quivering pussymound, rudely. Bucking his hips in a little one-two to fuck you through your soaring high, the friction makes you keen-
“Kunaaa–”
“Chatty chatty.” He’s leaning over to crash his lips filthily against yours, suckling on the sugary beads of spittle that leaves you like his favorite dessert. Sharp fangs sinking into your wobbly lower lip, “Why don’tcha beg for a change, lil’ human?”
You’re sputtering, “Wh-what do you mean-”
“Beg.” He pummels two fat fingers between your mouth, slithering the bulbous crowns of his finger against the back of your thrashing tongue and pressing. Hard. “Beg for your king.”
So smug.
Even smugger when he leverages the hold inside your mouth to open you up widely agape and spit- One generous helping inside your maw, another generous helping from his stomach mouth inside your cunt.
“P-please.”
“What was that?”
“Please!” Tears streak hotly down your cheeks, and your pretty sounds make his cocks twitch. “Please…fuck me, Sukuna.”
He pulls his long fingers back with a smile, satisfied. Lips curling even wider at the saturated globules of spittle that dribble from the ends of your mouth n’ to the tips of his buried digits. “As you wish, master.”
Your heart raced so hard it almost hurt as he’s tracing a teasing few fingers over the thick hem of his pants. The usually-loose fabric was now so packed with all the endless inches of him that it took a few tight tugs for Sukuna’s leaking, globular tip to peek through.
Immediately a juicy trail of pre butters from his divot in a creamy topping. You spy just the spatter of his scratchy pubes tufting together - drenched, the same rose pink that his cockhead was blushing.
“S’pink.” You babble off mindlessly, a drunken smile gracing your face. “S’cute.”
“Cute.” Sukuna breathes out, crimson eyes wide. Crazed. And both sets of his mouths leer as if he couldn’t believe what the fuck just fell from your mouth. He’s seething, “Cute?”
With only one hand stuck to the edge of your waist like adhesive, he flips your entire body ‘round so it sprawls into the plush mattress and pins you down. Kneeing your spine so you squirm helplessly, pushing and pushing until you whine.
You hear a long teeeeear–! echo in your ears, and as you get your thoughts together you’re realizing that he’d torn his royal trousers off. Adding it in a pile of tatters beside your bed, right with your newly-ripped sleep shirt.
Sukuna’s rugged hips hump against the mounds of your ass like an animal, and oh…he really did have two sets of everything.
Exclaiming breathlessly, “S-Sukuna you can’t be hngh- serious.” Fuck, he was serious. Dead serious. And a singular look over your shoulder told you that so were his cocks.
Aching, swollen. You count about thirteen inches - each.
So thick that they were proudly fatter than even the girth of the tongue across his washboard abs. Stacked one on top of the other, his upper shaft was slightly longer, dripping wet with sappy globules of precum that formulated a little puddle underneath him.
At this point you’re openly gawking.
Because not only were they massive - they were textured. In the most prominent of puffy veins zig-zagging all down Sukuna’s pinkish-beige length. Darker at his heavy hilts, rubier right on his mushroom tips.
Your mouth waters hotly just aching to feel all of him - both of him - inside you…
Spank! The demon soothes over those five exact prints of his fingers on your ass, then moving over to your damp pussy to gift yet another swat. “Intimidated? Ya wanted ta fuck a demon, so you’re gonna fuck a demon. Tch- spoiled brat.”
Letting off a pitchy mewl, you sliiiide the crevices of your cunt all over his drenched cocks. “Give it t’me- fuck, I n-need it so baaad.”
“What was it ya said, lil’ human?” Sukuna grouses from above, you yelp when you’re feeling his second mouth lather down your thighs allll over. He rests two hands on your hips and ruts– “Oh yeah- cute.”
And before you know it, you feel like you’re being split apart.
You feel like you’re seeing heaven behind your shuttered lids and smooching Sukuna’s monstrous, rotund head with your lungs. So impossibly thick that he was swabbin’ around your insides just by settling himself inside your welcoming channel, greeting your sponged cervix with a nice snog.
“Oh yeah…cute.”
Strong, heavy hands are the only thing holding you up as your knees weaken, and a hand wraps gently around your throat from behind. Lurching you up, up, up to meet Sukuna’s mouth in a kiss.
Holding you up, with just one hand.
“S’this ‘cute’?” He seethes against your dangling-open mouth, ridged buds hot. His own words hot. “Yer real fuckin’ lucky m’going easy on my lady, mama.”
Going easy on you?
If this was going easy on you— then you didn’t know what to think about him going hard.
But it’s like the very idea was simmering right underneath Sukuna’s sweltering hot skin, just brimming right underneath every motion of his body. About to break through. About to make him snap when he plants a thorough pound. Then doubling to two. Four. Eight.
“Oh f-fuuuuck–” You’re sobbing out, useless head haphazardly tumbling until you’re peering face-to-face with the way he was battering rams inside of you. “So deep- s-so deeep-”
A hand of his flies up to muffle your ever-breaking moans, the sloshes of your drool sticking against his doughy flesh in strands.
“Kehhh- ya ever stop makin’ a hah- mess?” Sukuna tightens his vice-like grip on your throat, and as you raise your head he makes sure to dig his fangs into your pulse. Planting another thwack of his bruising palm, “Just sh-shut up n’ take it like a good girl, yeah?”
“Y-yes.”
“Say it. Say it f’me.”
You’re sobbing at this point, and a third of his hands spank your waterfall of a slit until you manage to look up at him. Spank after spank. “G-gonna take it all.” You’re sniffling, “Like a- like a good girl.”
It was impossible to utter anything more.
His sleek, bloated tip was an expert - rovering over each of your hidden nooks and crannies. Dappling out thick wads of pre that you felt swash around you with every slap of his hips. Rough.
And it was a damn good thing that the king had stretched you out so much, because he was long. Driving a spherical welt right where his cock whacked your sheened cervix, and he was still pushing. Still rutting until his slightly unruly hair tickled your tender lips. Deeper-
“Ohhh can ya f-feel that?” Sukuna stutters out in scratchy heavals of air. Slowing down his harsh cadence until it reaches a looow n’ slooow pace that leaves your voice pitching into equally lazy whines
There wasn’t anything that you couldn’t feel.
You could count every curvy bump of his veins massaging your deepest innards, the wet texture of his slick-glazed shaft tunnelling into you like a madman. Like he was addicted. And Sukuna’s chubby breeder balls sizzle against the backs of your thighs as he feels a hand up your stomach.
Feeling for that one spot near your cervix - your womb. That one spot he was fucking a rounded tummy bulge into you.
“Feel me heh- making you bulge with all of me, pretty mama?” He leans a few degrees backwards to thumb at the way your pussy was quivering, your stretchy hole flexing n’ molding all around him. “So big that this pretty pussy doesn’t know what ta do w’me.”
You’re trembling at the feeling of his secondary tongue sleazing over your dripping entrance, everywhere and anywhere.
Like he doesn’t know what to do. Where to ruin you.
He’s drawing a long line of translucent spit up until he reaches that gorgeous mound on your stomach. Circling. Worshipping right where he was fucking you stupid.
His tastebuds loop once around your leg and start jostling the angle so that your clit grazes with something thick. And hot. And…rock hard. “N’ I’ve only put one in.”
“O-only- fuck-” You’re voice wavers and cracks unstably when you cum once more. You can’t even control it - can’t do anything but cry out with every jolt of your body. Every spark. Every flash of heat when you’re lolling helplessly backwards.
Sucking his teeth in from the way your warm insides squeeze him on instinct, “Oh- you’re sensitive, mama.” You’re barely half-opening your eyes before he’s rummaging your insides everywhere.
Ballooned-up cock crownhead poking the bullseye of your g-spot, he licks up such greedy flicks in and out. The only blissful sensation you’re given other than the trawling grinds of his other vein-covered shaft smacking against your nub.
“Kuna- Kuuuuna—” You’re mumbling, feeling the slope of his cylindrical outline slide in feverishly. “Give me ‘nother- other–”
“Don’t you talk t’me outta ya pussy, brat.”
“M’serious.” Your voice shakes ridiculously much, thickened with lust and pure need for more, more, more. His ripped abs press deeper to listen to your adorable whimpers, “I want it. Want it s-so bad.”
“How cuuuute.” With a swift, thundering slap! you’re feeling the mushroomy tip-top of his matchingly achy cock pry between your gluey pussylips. “Better not blame me when ya end up ngh- pregnant, master.”
You think you might be crashing headfirst into your fourth orgasm - perhaps even your fifth when Sukuna lets his swollen, blushing tip nudge against your tight lil’ entrance. Fluttering, stretching when he pokes away your dewy folds and grinds in–
You’re flinching at the wet plap! plap! plap! of something wet hitting your back - only to realize with a turn that Sukuna was drooling. With saccharine lines of saliva overcoming each side of his maw.
Dilated pupils so dark that you can barely find a trace of red, Sukuna bores into your eyes. Hypnotized. “Take it.” He pants against your lips in great gales of summer heat. “Take it.”
If you thought that one of Sukuna’s massive lengths was enough to make you dizzy, then you weren’t ready for what two could do to you.
He’s barely flopping in his rigid, tight crownhead past your snug hole before your mouth bursts at the seams with ripples of sleek saliva.
“Fuck- fuuuuuck!” Your fleshy cervix almost stings with the way he was mazing all through inside. Pushing n’ pushing until the strawberry-pink divot right in the middle of his throbbing cock also kisses the goopy bottom of your pussy.
He was spreading you wiiiidely open.
So massive that you’re left squealing after each spanking jackhammer. Your gripping pussy nothing against the way his slicked mess was coating your mushy insides, swirlin’ around and around until his globed tip locates sweet spots you’d hidden away.
Jostling and sliiiding against each other, the viscous jetstreams of his pre glissade down each of his lengths. Throbbing inside you at the very same pattern of your heart going ba-dump–! Prodding away until you’re weak, the curled hairs decorating his bases rub your skin raw.
One of his fattened-up shafts shovels into your bruised n’ battered g-spot, while the other digs away at your fleshy cervix. Both at once. He’s poking and prodding and stretching.
Two in one.
In the blink of an eye, Sukuna grabs your neck with the curve of his big, bulging biceps. Dragging your poor head into a fucking headlock of all things.
One hand smearing open your cunt to slobber down each inch by fucking inch, the other crowning your sweat-dampened head to push you down. And two more were guiding your delicious hips. He was treating you so rough. Manhandling you.
He was so sculpted, all curves and firm muscles that massaged your backs soothingly. Sukuna’s sweat-laminated abs smush and scratch some primal itch inside of you.
“Mmmm, made ta take my cocks.” Sukuna rasps in your ear, all primal need. “This turns ya on? Doesn’t it? This-” The final of his rugged palms press into the base of your spine, arching you right. “-makes ya wanna fuh-fuck?”
You’re nodding and nodding, head lolling back into the cushion of his pecs. So lush.
And it’s all you can do that Sukuna finds not a single shred of shame in surging up his cursed tongue once more to thwack! your bulging pussy.
Tightening the headlock until his veins pop out and rub the tender skin of your neck. Until you’re wheezing for desperate air- “Hehhhh, even f-fuckin’ deeper now.” He palms over the bulge at your tummy that had now grown in size. Raising a dark pink brow, “Even bigger. Feel me all up inside?”
Flawlessly, Sukuna raises the tendril of his tongue to wrap around your adorably throbbing clit. Outlining slobbering little hearts that having you screaming-
“Yeah? Tell me. Tell me.” Stretching and stretching and stretching until a claw-ridden thump presses into the lecherous protruding bump. It’s so firm and heavy underneath his sultry touch. Dewdrops of his cream splattered everywhere, “Tell me all-” Pressing down hard. Harder still. Snarling, “-tha’s on your ngh- mind, silly brat.”
“K-Kuna–”
“Yeeeees?”
“M’gonna cum!”
Within just two blinks of your tear-heavy eyelashes, Sukuna’s got you flipped onto your back. Chin hitting your chest at the slight bouncy recoil, a shrilling whine of disappointment makes its way to your throat-
Right before Sukuna fucks it back in again with a fast burial of his weighty cocks, and then your upcoming orgasm.
You can’t even string together slews of proper syllables anymore, your tongue smacking uselessly inside your unfastened mouth. You cum looking allll up into Sukuna’s loving eyes.
“Tch, wan’ned to see your- ngh- your cute face when you cum.” He grabs your teary pussymound with one bulky palm and gyrates on your overstimulated clit. “Cum. Cum.”
And not only do you cum – you’re squirting.
Barely even realizing it before it registers in your mind that the sploshes of watery liquid coating your body wasn’t just tears n’ sweat, it was your sappy slick spraying out in bucketloads. Utter bucketloads.
The streaming spurts of it struggle to burst past your lips with the way that he’s ramming furiously into you. Aggressively, even. You’re whimpering with each fat webbed mess that manages to trickle down to the sheets below your ass.
“I-inside.” You’re muttering, inaudible. And yet, Sukuna hears - of course, he hears. The perches of his barrelling cockheads giving a dangerous sort of twitch!
And that’s all said before the king of demons glues together your sticky inner thighs with piling heaps of his cum. Gasping. He’s finishing in such a vulgar way that marks you as his from the inside and out.
First his upper length, and then his lower. Twin rivulets of stringy seed that hit the back of your pussy with a squelch–! so loud that it rings in your buzzing eardrums. The mass weight of it so much, so striking that you almost find yourself wincing.
Flooding every ounce of space inside you — and not only did his monstrous cocks bawl out way more than your average human, he had two of them. And oh, it was so hot…
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Sukuna growls, hips papping yours mindlessly. You swear you’re seeing the skin around his pelvis redden angrily at the impact. “Fuh-fuck I— fuuuck.”
He’s hunching over you, skin against boiling hot skin. Speckles of beaded sweat seem to trail down from Sukuna’s temples and fizzle in the mere air between your bodies.
Rough, rugged fingertips cling onto your hips, and two more of his hands throw your twitching legs pliably over Sukuna’s bulky shoulders. Locking them behind him, bending and bending and bending into a mean mating press.
He was just pumping you full, and that inflationary bump in your tummy swashes over with ribbons of cum after every thrust. Making both you and your overworked bedsprings whiiine.
“O-oh my god.” You gasp, tiny clumps of air your current salvation. Sukuna flicks his eyes drunkenly over to you and meets your mouth with his palm - manifesting his second mouth there in a sloppy, sloppy kiss. “Mmmm—”
“Wh-what did I ngh- s-say, pretty mama?” Sukuna’s smug tone was gone now. Hoarse. Cracking into so many octaves higher, even.
You’re only watching through partly-spellbound eyes as he languidly slithers a hand down to cup both rummaging shafts still plugged away inside you. Firm. His sweat-slicked brows furrow, boring down at you through strands of cerise. “Y-you can jus’ call me–” And then you feel it happen. You feel him harden. “-Kuna.”
Scrambling up onto your elbows, “Kunaaa—”
“Atta girl.”
He was getting impossibly harder.
Bigger.
And you swear the fat girth of his matching cocks were even thicker than usual. Plumping right inside of your slick-glued walls, your pussy sticks against him like gum when he throb-throb-throbs rock. fucking. hard.
Feral-like shafts twitch and flinch with even the tiniest of your primal clenches, prodding your cunt like magic, and you were quite sure that it was magic-
“Blood manipulation.” Sukuna grins, still catching his breath. And yet he was already moving, already rocking back n’ forth. “Ohhh- you didn’t th-think we were done, right?”
You whirl your eyes downwards to watch in some animalistic awe at the bump formulated on your tummy, oh-so-obvious now. And Sukuna’s ramming juts leave the bloated mound jiggling.
“Fuck- fuuuuck–” Mewling, as if a broken record. But it doesn’t matter how many times you’d repeated it, just your pretty voice makes it Sukuna’s favorite song. “M’s-so…”
Sensitive.
Your thighs writhe every time he dabs his full, rounded crownheads against your g-spot. Beating. Shuddering. With a sob, you’re fisting the splintered mahogany of your headboard and pulling yourself–
“Oi oi. Where’d ya think you’re ngh- runnin’ off to?” His lengthy stomach tongue creeps between the wetness of your thighs to circle one of your limbs and drag you dooooown into him. Grating your tender clit into his soaked hairs.
“D-dunno if it’ll all-” You nod haplessly towards the ever-gushing sploshes of seed and slick swamping out of you. “-fit.”
“Oh, I’ll make it f-fit, lil’ human- don’t you hah! worry.” Sukuna snickers, scraping your scalp with one hand to stop your cute wrangling. Pushing you down, spearing you. “You just sit baaack n’ take it.”
The room wrings with a sudden slap! Once. And then twice. And then so many repeated times that you couldn’t count how many harsh rolls of his hips it took for you to cream ‘round Sukuna’s cocks once more.
You can’t even feel it at this point, can’t even breathe.
But that familiar knot at the base of your stomach twists and suddenly your vision blanks with white-hot euphoria.
Mere trembles but intense. It’s so good that your toes curl, clawed nails dragging down his broad back.
“Cumming again?” He’s musing, curved veins stretching your fluttery core. It was so cute the way even biting down on your trembly lips can’t stop your moans.
And then you throw your head back with a sob of ‘K-Kuna’ and Sukuna thinks he’s going fucking insane. Veering right down the one-way street to madness as he swivels his hips hypnotically to draw a pretty milky heart at the base of your cervix.
Before topping his masterpiece with such aroused oodles of cum, and ohhhh- the demon’s finding himself tilting his head back attractively. Just addicted to watching the way your tight pussy overfills past the brim with all his sugarcoating seed.
More.
More more more.
Allll night long, and even when rays of dawn break through your fluttering curtains. Birds chirping outside, cards revving, and yet the only constant was that repeated spank! of skin on clammy skin.
He’s filling you up with second helpings, thirds, fourths- you’ve lost count at this point.
In every position possible, on every surface until the both of you felt more like animals than people. Though, well, maybe Sukuna’s demon-like nature was rubbing off on you. More n’ more every time he filled you.
So much so that the torrential currents of it - thick and taking up every inch of space inside your snug channel - are pushing Sukuna’s fat, veiny cocks out of your pussy. Out past your flashing folds.
He had you back on the bed now, the plush mattress so soaked-through that every ram makes it ring out a soggy schwf! Your legs dangle down somewhere near Sukuna’s slobbery mouth, where it was supposed to be some hazy mess of a mating press - his favorite.
And it’s slippery.
His pulsating lengths are having trouble pushing and sliiiiding off of your sheeny folds, lathering itself in more and more of an utter mess that the both of you were making.
But what Sukuna didn’t expect was for your throat to burn with a carnally furious whine. Ripping up and out of you once you’re reaching a shaky hand below - not even managing to close your hands around both his hilts - and squeezing them back inside with a waterlogged plop!
He’s fucking you like it was second nature, something dark and primal that made his entire body wrack with shivers. That made this famed king look at you with tender wonderment- before slamming a free hand down on your wooden bedframe.
So powerful that the poor furniture cracks! right down the middle where his hand lay - and that was not the only thing that broke.
No, Ryomen Sukuna was close in second place as he flaps his peripherals scrunched shut with a grunt. Those slapping rams increasing in pace and sound until he empties his breeder balls once more.
And it felt like the nth time he was gasping into your parted mouth while he cums.
Both dicks all soooo sensitive n’ red while they swirled around thin wires of squishy cum, opening up your tummy bulge so full that Sukuna can’t help but thumb over it fiercely.
“Please- please–” You’re begging now, and you think that the trembles of electricity bolting from between your legs meant that you, too, were orgasming. Not even properly. For the…what time was it now? “Inside. Inside, Kuna.”
“Inside.” He echoes, as if it was the only thing he could. “Inside. Gonna k-keep it ngh! all inside, pretty mama. Yeah, fuckfuckfuuuuck- gonna be mine.”
Oh, he was babbling now. He was actually whining.
Gingerly licking his kiss-bitten lips at the frothed ring of cum that painted his happy trail white. The schwf-schwf-schwaf of his tickling hairs polishing your skin with swift smears left you drooling.
And Sukuna was, too.
From both mouths that bubbled with glinting tracks of sweltering hot saliva. His wheezing gasps strained, “H-heir.” He’s cupping your treasured tummy - your womb. Overfilled.
Sukuna watches with bated breath as your filthy, cockdrunk brain told you to open your mouth wide and slurp up a few of his leaking wads.
“O-oh.” More cum sticks against your thighs like icy white frosting, spraying inside and outside and everywhere. “Fuuuuck- yer real interestin’, human.” His perspiration-sheened forehead drifts down to yours, curtained with unruly pink hair. “R-reeeal interesting…master.”
Ah, that makes you throb.
And it makes Sukuna’s shaft veins pulse rapidly as he cums - though, only in a few lecherous pearls of ivory sap. All adding onto the sploshing waves of seed inside you- before the rest of it is nothingness. Even though he feels it, even though he knows it.
You just made the king of demons cum dry. Even with his superhuman powers, ohhh your stamina was fit for a…queen. His queen.
Sukuna lumbers down a beefy arm, loving the way your eyes ogle his every muscular flex. His own glazed over with a teary film.
His thick n’ ready fingers wrap around his sloppy bases - not even minding the mess, he loved it. Both holding his sagging weights up and slipping himself through the filthy, saccharine puddles inside. Your heart races with anticipation once you feel the bzzzz of powerful energy in the murked atmosphere between your legs; his blood manipulation at work again.
Ohhhh fuck, you already knew his night was going to be a long one. Never-ending perhaps.
Your suspicions are confirmed when Sukuna’s dual tips twitch–
“S’never gonna b-be ngh- enough.” You’re batting your lashes sensually, words still hitching with the constant shocks of your orgasms upon orgasms. “M-maybe you should just ah! stay here w’me, Kunaa—”
And oh, he simply grins a wicked grin like you’ve never seen before. “A-anything. Anythinganything for my fuuuuck- master.”
Satoru is verrrry grateful for thin walls [18+ mdni]
Satoru leaned against the dorm wall, though it felt so painfully thin he feared he’d fall right through it.
Well, he actually might with the way he’s feverishly pressed up against it—listening tentatively for the next moan to leave your plush lips.
Instead of traditional, stuffy college dorms, the dorms at Jujutsu Technical College are exclusively single rooms. so, while Satoru couldn’t get a room with his best friend, he decided the next best thing was to room right next to him.
However, that meant he had to hear your sloppy little whimpers through the paper-thin walls, forced to listen to you being ruined by his best friend instead of him every day. But maybe—just maybe—Satoru liked it a little.
The muffled thump thump thump of the cheap, but sturdy, wooden headboard banging on the wall echoed throughout Satoru’s dorm. “f-fuck! Sugu—ye-yeah .. nghh—“
God. Do you have any idea what you do to him?
He could imagine you now—back locked in a deeeeep arch, Suguru’s hand fiercely gripping your hip while his other hand rested against your scalp, fingers tangled in your hair to hold you right where he wanted.
Satoru knows it’s utterly pathetic—the way he reaches into his sweatpants and pulls his twitching cock from his cum-stained boxers at the sound of his best friend fucking you.
He knows he shouldn’t. He really, really should stop. But when he catches a thick vein on his shaft, making him let out a moan that only someone who was completely ruined could make, he realizes he can’t stop. Everything is so slick and wet, it’s driving him crazy.
“Yeah—look at how good your sloppy—f-fuck! hole is taking me, baby.” Suguru grunts through gritted teeth—his length rutting against your cunt after your nth orgasm, leaving a creamy ring of your combined messes around his base.
Satoru grips his cock a little tighter, swiping the pre-cum that’s leaked out of his blushed tip with his thumb. A slew of muffled “ah—ah—ah”s come from your drool soaked lips, permeating the walls.
Satoru can’t help but whine into his palm, trying to keep it down as much as humanly possible. His eyes flutter as he fucks his fist faster—hips violently bucking while he tries to match the rhythm of the bed’s incessant creaking.
“Holy f-fuuckk—“ he murmured. If anyone saw him like this, god, he wouldn't even know what to say. How mortifying. His patterned sleep pants lay forgotten on the floor, leaving his boxers to squeeze against his tensed thighs.
“fuuckk — keep fucking me th-at! ngh — fuck, ‘toru!”
…
Unbelievable.
A strangled noise left Satoru’s mouth as he shot pale sticky strands that ran down his balled fist. he spread his fingers looking at the mess he made, face scrunching knowing it’ll be annoying to clean. Still, it wasn’t quite as annoying as his best friend and his girl.
What assholes.
Suguru collapses on top of you, adoring the way you pepper kisses on his shoulders and neck, each one a silent “thank you.”
You start to giggle. “Sugu, you think he heard it?” you whisper breathlessly.
Suguru props himself up, allowing you to see the proud smirk painted on his face. “Well, do you hear him whining anymore?”
Both of your gazes flick toward the wall behind the bed, staring.
Silence.
While you can’t hear anything, you imagine Satoru’s flushed face as he tries to clean his mess as quickly as possible, desperately trying to slow his breathing.
Your imagination is nearly spot on—except you’re missing the slight, knowing grin on his face as he thinks about how he gets to do it all over again tomorrow.
a/n: this is my first fic i’m gonna throw up on everyone ok. comment and praise me if you like it
18+ :: get(o) cucked ! , satoru fucking you in front of his bestfriend after suguru gets dumped
“suguru,” satoru coos as he pulls away from your drenched core, a string of your arousal still connecting him until he licks it away. “i’m really sorry to hear about your breakup, man. hey, let me know if i can do anything to help, yeah?”
you whine at the loss, blinking open to cast your gaze to where your boyfriend’s phone is set up on your nightstand, capturing you as you lean back against the headboard, legs raised. without satoru’s tongue fucking into you, you regain enough rationality to try and pull down your shirt but he keeps a firm hand, holding it up just above your tits so both men can have a good view. “keep that shirt up, pretty. let him see those pretty tits bounce.”
suguru groans, dark hair tousled as he leans back against his couch in a state of dishevelment that can only be explained as a post-breakup slump.
“shut the fuck up,” he heaves, hand dipping below the frame to stroke himself. “you’re such a conceited asshole.”
you bite your lip, bucking up into nothing and satoru laughs at you both, slapping at your core lightly and making you jolt.
“what do you mean? i’m going out of my way to help you. i don’t just share my girl with anyone. isn’t that right, sweets?”
“you are a dick,” you mumble.
your cheeks burn hot, embarrassment flooding you even as his words cause a bead of arousal to roll down your core and he swipes it away with a rough thumb, licking it up with an exaggeration moan.
“god, don’t you wish you could taste her?” he groans for suguru. “so fucking delicious.”
“keep talking like that and i’ll go soft,” suguru says, but judging from the way his hand speeds up, you think it might be the opposite.
satoru grins wide, all teeth and arrogance, as he pulls you up. he sits facing his phone and drags you onto his lap, your back against his chest, legs spread over one of his muscled thighs. “don’t act like a virgin. i know you want a closer look. and she wants you to look, don’t you?”
you squirm as you feel the rough denim of satoru’s jeans press against your bare, sensitive pussy and try to hide your face in his neck. but your awful boyfriend only chuckles low, forcing your hips to grind forward. “aw, baby, don’t be like that. suguru’s just jealous over there, pumping his cock like it’s his only friend left. right?”
suguru’s breath stutters and he reaches over to adjust the phone for a better angle on himself, his fist wrapped tight around his thick shaft, sliding up and down with deliberate pumps. “you talk too fucking much. just get on with it.”
satoru laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest into your back as he rocks your pussy harder against his thigh, the friction building slick heat between your legs. your clit drags over the seam of his jeans, sending jolts of pleasure that makes you whimper softly, mortified that suguru can hear every wet slide.
“see that, suguru?” your boyfriend purrs. “she’s soaking my pants already. ride it harder, baby—grind that pretty pussy on me. tell him how good it feels. or are you too embarrassed? come on, moan for the camera.”
you bite your lip, heat creeping up your neck, but satoru’s fingers dig in, forcing a rhythm back and forth and back and forth, your folds parting around the hard muscle.
you shudder out his name. “this feels…”
“that’s it, sweets,” he drags out sweetly, nipping the lobe while his other hand slides up to pinch your nipple through your shirt. “fuck my thigh like you mean it. look at suguru, baby—his dick’s leaking just from watching you. bet he wishes he could feel this juicy cunt instead of his own hand. right, suguru? admit it, you’re hard as fuck for my girl.”
suguru grunts, his strokes audible now, fist slick with his own pre-cum. “you’re such a dick, satoru. bet you cum from your own dirty talk.”
knowing just how desperate your boyfriend can get, you whine as the pleasure coils tight. your pussy clenches around nothing as you rut faster, clit throbbing against satoru’s jeans.
“w-wait,” you manage through your gasps, humiliated how loud your slick sounds are, how suguru’s watching every desperate grind. “oh, fuck—it’s too much!”
satoru smirks at the phone, his thigh flexing up to rub harder against your swollen lips. “hear that? that’s how she sounds when she’s close. but you’re not getting there, baby, not yet. slow down—tease yourself for him. show suguru how you edge that pussy on my leg.”
he stills your hips just enough to make you whine in protest, hands closing around his biceps in an attempt to steady yourself.
“fuck you, satoru,” suguru groans, but his hand doesn’t stop, twisting around his cockhead with a wet schlick. “let her cum. you’re dragging this out.”
“jealous much?” satoru shoots back, then turns his attention back to you, murmuring in your ear. “want more? you’re gonna have to work for it. come here, face me and get on all fours.”
he doesn’t wait for you to move, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and tugging them open just enough to free his thick cock. it springs out, hard and veined, the tip already glistening with pre-cum as he gives it a lazy stroke.
you do not need to be told twice.
“come on, crawl over and wrap your pretty lips around me. show suguru how you do it.”
you turn and crawl up his legs, ass lifted for the camera, thighs parting slightly to expose your dripping folds, the cool air hitting your heated skin.
satoru leans back on his hands as you take over stroking him, kissing the length of it. “open your mouth, let me see your tongue.”
you part your lips, tongue flicking out to lap at the salty bead on his tip before taking him in, hollowing your cheeks as you suck.
he groans, thrusting shallowly to hit the back of your throat, the stretch making your eyes water. one of your hands reaches back between your thighs, fingers sliding through the mess of slick and drool, circling your clit before dipping into your entrance with a soft squelch.
distantly, you hear suguru curse.
your fingers work your pussy in rhythm, plunging in and out, thumb rubbing your swollen clit as juices coat your hand and trickle down your thigh.
“shit, look at her.” suguru’s breath hitches audibly, his strokes turning rougher, cock twitching in his grip. “ass up like that, fingering herself while she’s slurping on your dick. you’re a bastard for this, satoru, but fuck if it isn’t working.”
satoru chuckles before breaking into a soft moan. “yeah? bet you’re leaking just watching. hear that—ngh—sound? that's her creaming on her own fingers because my cock’s got her that desperate. go on, baby—moan around my cock. tell suguru how much you love sucking me off, how you’re throbbing for it.”
he pulls your hair tighter, holding you steady as he grinds deeper and deeper, the head of his dick pulsing against his tongue.
your mouth works satoru’s dick with desperate suction, tongue swirling around the thick shaft as you bob deeper, gagging on the length that fills your throat. saliva drips down your chin while your fingers plunge relentlessly into your soaked pussy, chasing your own high. your ass stays high, thighs spread wide for the phone, letting suguru watch every clench of your walls and every glide of your thumb over your throbbing clit.
pleasure builds in your core, your body trembling on the edge, but satoru’s breaths turn ragged, his hips stuttering as he grips your hair tighter.
“fuck, baby—slow down,” satoru grunts, voice rough and strained, his cock swelling against your tongue. before you can double down, he yanks you off with a wet pop, your lips leaving him shiny and slick, strings of spit connecting you to his pulsing head.
you gasp for air, spluttering. “why?”
satoru strokes himself once, twice, eyes flicking to the phone, where suguru’s face is flushed, his own fist flying over his cock.
suguru seems to catch onto what you don’t because he suddenly says, “wait, don’t stop—let me see her cum, satoru, you asshole—”
“night, suguru. enjoy the blue balls.” satoru grins, leaning forward and around you to end the call with a wet finger.
he tosses the phone aside, not giving it another glance, and hauls you up by your arms like you weigh nothing. he drops back into the bed and pulls you up onto his lap, your pussy clenching empty now that your fingers are gone.
“did you like that, sweets?” he coos, though he knows the answer, if your state is any indication.
“that was mean.” you pout, squirming. “he was going to cum.”
“i’m not letting anyone see you cum.” his hands slide down to your hips, lifting you over his cock. “up you go, ride me proper.”
he lines you up, the broad head nudging your dripping entrance and making you whine in anticipation.
you sink yourself down with a sharp cry, his thickness stretching you wide, filling every inch until your ass meets his lap, buried to the hilt. the burn of the stretch mixes with relief, your walls fluttering as he wastes no time—thrusting hard, the slap of skin on skin filling the room.
satoru grabs your wrists, guiding your hands to the headboard above. “hold on tight, baby, i’m not going to be able to slow down.”
you obey, fingers curling just in time as he starts fucking up into you in earnest.
his hips snap upward with brutal force, cock dragging against your inner walls, hitting deep with each drive. your tits bounce with every thrust, nipples hard and aching in the cool air, while your pussy gushes around him, coating his shaft and balls with your arousal.
“ah—fuck! satoru, you’re so deep,” you moan, body jolting, the headboard creaking under your grip.
he angles his hips just right, grinding against that spot inside that makes stars burst behind your eyes, his free hand sliding up to pinch your nipple, twisting it until you arch your back. sweat slicks your skin, the room smelling of sex and sweat, but he doesn’t let up—pounding relentlessly, his voice dropping low and filthy as words spill out.
“god, look at you, taking my cock like a greedy little slut—your pussy’s sucking me in so tight. you’re so fucking wet. bet you loved putting on that show for suguru, didn’t you? fingering that wet hole while he jerked off to you. but now it’s all mine, baby—gonna fill you up, pump you full of cum.”
you feel him throb harder inside you, his thrusts growing more erratic as his own voice turns him on more. you submit yourself completely, falling into his chest and letting him bear hug you, burying his face in your neck and inhaling ferally.
“fuck yeah—imagine suguru hearing you scream my name right now, knowing he can’t have this tight pussy wrapped around him.” satoru’s breath hitches, his grip around you tightening.
“gonna cum?” you stutter, meeting his thrusts.
he nods frantically, a whiny tilt entering his tone. “so fucking much, baby, oh god. gonna cum so hard for you.”
with a guttural groan, he slams up one last time, burying deep as he cums hard. hot spurts flood your pussy, coating your insides, his body shuddering beneath you while he rides out the waves, still muttering praises between clenched teeth.
“that’s it, take it all,” he rasps, hips jerking shallowly to push it in deeper, your walls clenching around him in response, drawing out his release until he’s spent panting into your hair. “god, you kill me every time.”
you let out a breath, slumping into him fully. “think suguru is still mad?”
your boyfriend chuckles weakly. “i gave him some real life material. he should be grateful if anything.”
his phone pings on time and satoru groans, fumbling around the sheets until his fingers close around it. he holds it up and you tilt your head over your shoulder to see.
there’s a single notification.
suguru: involve me
a/n: thank you to @jayflrt 4 alpha reading !! we can't talk here, email me
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
2087
titsay
gummygunk
annaxmalina
ellievsbear
blakekathryn
