Indispensable Smut

Truly a fan page just dedicated to writings I like, much love to all authors featured here! This will probably be mostly 18+ so minors DNI

[sugurusphantom]

Welcome!

HI! Welcome to my fan page! I'm just a girl in my 20s who loves indulgent fanfiction, haha. I've been a long time lurker for smut fics and got to the point where I wanted to keep track of all the writings I like. To be clear, this is just a blog for reblogs and none of the writing is mine so if you see something you like on here, go check out the author's blog and show them some love! Minors DNI

[6x-x9]

𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐑 𔘓 𝑯𝑬𝑰𝑨𝑵!𝓡.𝑺𝑼𝑲𝑼𝑵𝑨

When Ryomen 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 found a temple girl still on her knees after he had burned it to the ground, he thought you'd be perfect to take as his.

𝓒𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 · 𝟏𝟖+ 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊 · ꒰ 𝒇. 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⋮⋮ 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎!𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 ⋮⋮ mentions of weapons (knife) ⋮⋮ reader at one point tries to take his life ⋮⋮ mention of blood ⋮⋮ 𝒗𝒊𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒏 reader ⋮⋮ p in v ⋮⋮ his two cks mentioned ⋮⋮ cervix kissing ⋮⋮ tummy bulges ⋮⋮ cum-flated ⋮⋮ c-pied ⋮⋮ 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 f. rec ⋮⋮ he eats you out under a pear tree ⋮⋮ bathtub 𝒔𝒆𝒙 ⋮⋮ dp ⋮⋮ nipple play ⋮⋮ mentions of pregnancy ꒱

𝒲𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 · 𝟐𝟓𝐤+ · ꒰ 𝒓𝒆𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 : @!torusbabe ꒱

The Heian era stretched long and bloody under skies that never quite cleared of smoke. Villages burned not for conquest alone, but because Ryomen Sukuna found the sight of flames prettier than the thatched roofs they devoured.

He moved like calamity given legs, four arms thick with corded muscle, tattoos crawling black across scarlet skin, eyes the color of fresh-spilled blood and just as hungry. They called him the King of Curses long before any true cursed spirit bore the name; humans feared him the way prey fears the open mouth of a tiger, and with good reason.

He slaughtered priests mid-chant, crushed shrine maidens beneath his geta, left offering bowls overturned and spilling rice across blood-slicked tatami. Faith irritated him. Devotion irritated him more. It was the only thing that ever made him pause long enough to really look at someone.

You were different in the way a single unbroken flower is different in a field turned to ash.

The temple sat modest on its hill, cedar beams darkened by centuries of incense. You had spent your life inside its walls. Sweeping stone paths at dawn, replacing withered chrysanthemums, murmuring sutras until your voice felt less like your own and more like something borrowed from the kami themselves.

Your hands were calloused only from scrubbing floors and carrying water; your body soft in the way of someone who had never known violence except as stories whispered after dark. When war finally clawed its way up the mountain road, you did not run. You knelt deeper. Forehead to the cool floor, palms pressed together, lips shaping the same prayer you had spoken every morning since childhood.

Sukuna found you like that.

The sliding doors exploded inward in a spray of splinters. Smoke curled around his silhouette as he stepped inside, two of his arms crossed, the other two loose at his sides. Blood still dripped from the knuckles of his rightmost hand; somewhere behind him a monk’s severed head rolled to a stop against a lantern post. He tilted his head, regarding you. You did not lift your gaze. You did not scream. You only whispered the next line of the sutra, voice trembling but unbroken.

He laughed once the sound of it came out low and rough, amused in a way that made the air feel heavier.

“Still praying,” he said, voice like gravel dragged over silk. “Even now.”

You swallowed. Tears slipped free, hot against your cheeks, but your hands stayed joined.

He crossed the prayer hall in three strides. One massive hand closed around the back of your neck. Not cruel yet, only possessive. He lifted you as though you weighed nothing, your knees scraping the floorboards before they left them entirely. Your prayer beads clattered to the ground. You reached instinctively for them; he caught your wrist mid-motion and pinned it behind you with casual strength.

“If I’m not there,” you managed, voice cracking on every word, “who will take care of the temple?”

He went still.

For one heartbeat the only sound was the crackle of distant fires and your own uneven breathing.

Then he leaned in until his mouth brushed the shell of your ear.

“That’s what I like about you already,” he murmured. “You think the gods still need you.”

He carried you out of the ruined temple slung over one shoulder like a prize of war. You beat uselessly at his back until your strength gave out; tears soaked the fabric stretched across his shoulder blades. The last thing you saw of your home was the torii gate tilting sideways, half-consumed by flame.

His fortress crouched against jagged black cliffs, more cavern than castle—rough-hewn stone corridors lit by flickering braziers, air thick with the smell of iron and cedar smoke. Servants scattered like leaves when he entered, heads bowed so low their foreheads nearly kissed the floor. Only one did not flinch: Uraume, pale and composed, white hair falling straight as a blade. They regarded you with cool interest as Sukuna dumped you unceremoniously onto the wide, low platform that served as his sleeping mat.

You scrambled backward until your spine hit the wall, kimono tangled around your knees, chest heaving. The room was vast, shadowed, dominated by his presence even when he turned away to shrug out of bloodied outer robes. No partition. No second mat. No door that closed between you and him.

You were his now.

He did not speak the words. He did not need to.

Uraume approached without being summoned, carrying a lacquered tray. Steaming rice, grilled fish, pickled vegetables arranged with meticulous care. A clay cup of water. They knelt before you, expression unreadable.

“Eat,” they said simply. “He does not tolerate weakness in what belongs to him.”

You stared at the food, stomach twisting with nausea and hunger in equal measure. Your fingers shook when you reached for the chopsticks.

Later, after the tray had been cleared away. Uraume returned with folded yukata of soft undyed silk and a wooden tub already filled with heated water scented faintly with yuzu. They gestured toward a screened alcove at the far side of the chamber.

“Wash,” they instructed. “He will want you clean.”

You obeyed because there was nothing else to do.

The water was almost too hot; it turned your skin pink as you sank into it, knees drawn to your chest. You scrubbed mechanically, arms and shoulders, the crook of your neck, until every trace of soot and temple incense had been erased. Your hair hung heavy and dripping when you finally stepped out. Uraume waited with a dry cloth and the yukata. They did not touch you; they simply watched until you had dressed, until the sash was tied neatly at your waist.

When you emerged from behind the screen, Sukuna was already reclining on the wide mat, one elbow propped beneath him, four eyes fixed on you with lazy predatory interest. The yukata clung slightly to still-damp skin. You felt naked beneath his gaze despite the layers.

He crooked two fingers.

You hesitated.

He crooked them again, but slower this time, deliberately.

You crossed the room on unsteady legs and sank to your knees at the edge of the mat, head bowed, hands folded in your lap the way you had been taught to approach superiors. The posture felt wrong here. Too reverent. Too much like prayer.

He reached out, caught your chin between thumb and forefinger, and tilted your face up.

“You still smell like incense,” he said, almost thoughtful. “I’ll have to fix that.”

His thumb dragged once across your lower lip rough and warm, a soft press.

Then he released you.

“Sleep,” he ordered, lying back and closing two of his eyes while the other two remained trained on you. “You’ll need your strength.”

There was no spare futon. No corner to curl into. Only the space beside him on the wide mat, close enough to feel the furnace heat rolling off his body.

You lay down carefully, on your side, facing away from him, every muscle rigid. Tears slipped silently into the thin pillow beneath your cheek.

Behind you, he let out a single exhale that sounded almost like a laugh.

“Good girl,” he murmured into the dark. “Faithful things last longer when they learn their place.”

The braziers guttered low. The fortress settled into uneasy quiet.

And you, stolen from the gods, lay awake listening to the slow, steady rhythm of the monster’s breathing at your back, knowing he had only begun to claim what he wanted.

The first days blurred into a haze of stone walls and flickering firelight. You kept to the edges of the chamber like a shadow trying to disappear into itself. Every time Sukuna moved, your body tensed up, waiting for the strike that never came. Not yet. He lounged on the wide mat most hours, sometimes sleeping with all four eyes closed (a rare vulnerability you noted and immediately regretted noticing), sometimes watching you with the lazy patience of a cat that has already cornered its mouse. Uraume appeared at regular intervals with trays of food you refused to touch. Rice cooled untouched. Fish grew dull-eyed on the lacquer. Pickles wilted. You told yourself it was defiance. You told yourself starvation was preferable to accepting anything from the thing that had burned your world down.

Hunger, though, was not impressed by principle.

Your stomach clawed itself hollow. Your limbs felt heavy, your head light. You sat with your back to the wall, knees drawn up, arms wrapped tight around them as though you could hold yourself together that way. Sukuna noticed. Of course he did. He noticed everything.

On the fourth evening or perhaps the fifth; time had begun to slip like sand. He rose from the mat abruptly. Uraume had just left another untouched meal on the low table. Sukuna crossed to it in two strides, picked up the bowl of rice still faintly warm, and carried it to where you sat.

You pressed harder against the stone.

He crouched before you. He was too close, always too close. Balancing the bowl on one massive palm. The other three hands rested loose at his sides, deceptively calm.

“Eat,” he said. Not an order this time. Almost conversational.

You stared at the floor between his knees. “No.”

A beat of silence. Then a low sound escaped from him, not quite a laugh, more like air pushed through teeth.

“You think starving yourself hurts me?” He tilted his head, studying the stubborn line of your jaw. “It only makes you weaker. And I don’t keep broken things.”

“I’m not yours to keep.”

The words came out quieter than you meant, cracked from disuse and thirst. Still, they hung between you like a thrown gauntlet.

He considered them. Then, without warning, one of his lower hands lifted in a slow and deliberate motion to cup the side of your face. Not rough. Not gentle either. Just there. Warm. The calluses on his thumb rasped once against your cheekbone.

“You will eat,” he said, softer now, almost amused. “Or I will make you.”

You jerked your head away. “I said no.”

His grip tightened, just enough to still you but not enough to bruise. The other hand, the one holding the rice moved closer. He scooped a small clump with two fingers, brought it to your lips.

You clamped your mouth shut. Turned your face aside.

He waited.

The seconds stretched. Your pulse hammered in your ears. Hunger roared louder than pride.

Then slowly, so slowly you hated yourself for it. Your lips parted. Just enough.

He pushed the rice inside.

You chewed mechanically, eyes stinging, hating the way your body betrayed you by swallowing. The grains were perfectly soft, faintly sweet from whatever subtle seasoning Uraume used. You hated that too.

Sukuna watched every motion. The way your throat worked. The way a single grain clung to the corner of your mouth until his thumb brushed it away.

“Good,” he murmured.

He fed you another bite. Then another. Never rushing. Never forcing more than you could take at once. One of his free hands settled at the small of your back, not pulling you closer. Just resting there, steadying you as though you might topple sideways from the effort of hating him while your body demanded to live.

You ate half the bowl before shame choked you again. You tried to turn your head.

He didn’t let you.

The last bite he held between his fingers longer than necessary, letting you feel the heat of his skin, the faint pulse beneath it. When you finally took it, your soft lips closing around the pads of his fingers for one humiliating second and then something flickered in his eyes. Not lust, not yet. Satisfaction. The quiet pleasure of something stubborn beginning to bend.

He set the empty bowl aside. His hand lingered on your cheek a moment longer before falling away.

“You’ll eat tomorrow,” he said, rising to his full height again. “And the day after. And every day I decide you’re still useful alive.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glaring up at him through wet lashes. “I hate you.”

He gave a small and sharp smile that was entirely genuine, you feared.

“I know.”

He returned to the mat, stretched out on his side, and closed two eyes while the other two stayed fixed on you. You stayed where you were, back to the wall, knees still drawn tight, tasting rice and salt and the ghost of his fingers on your tongue.

Hunger sated. Defiance cracked, just a little.

And in the shadowed quiet of the fortress, the King of Curses watched his stolen faithful with the patience of someone who already knew how this story ended.

Days bled into one another until the rhythm of captivity began to feel less like chains and more like gravity was inescapable and constant. Wearing down edges you once thought sharp. You no longer pressed yourself to the farthest wall when he entered the chamber. You no longer flinched at every shift of his massive frame. Vigilance replaced panic; observation replaced despair.

....

You learned the fortress the way a prisoner learns the bars of a cage. The low wooden chest near the alcove held his smaller blades. A curved tanto with black-wrapped hilts, edges honed to split hairs. You watched him retrieve them once, twice, committing the latch’s soft click to memory. Uraume never lingered near it; Sukuna himself seemed to forget it existed most days, as though no one in this place would dare touch what was his.

You told yourself the knowledge was survival. You told yourself the plan forming in the quiet hours, when his breathing evened out beside you and the braziers burned low....was justice that you'd claim. The temple still haunted your dreams: splintered beams, overturned altars, the last prayer dying on your lips as he carried you away. Revenge felt righteous. Necessary.

And yet.

His body had become a fixture. Four arms that could crush stone now draped carelessly across the mat at night. One slung over your waist when he slept deepest, another curled beneath his own head, the remaining two loose at his sides. The heat of him seeped through silk and skin alike, a furnace you could no longer pretend to ignore. You hated how your muscles learned to relax against that warmth instead of locking in terror. Hated how, when he spoke in low commands, mocking observations and that your replies came edged but quieter now. Less venom. More resignation. Familiarity was its own slow poison.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

Sometimes his gaze lingered longer when you answered him. A faint curl at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile. Something pleased. Something patient.

You waited for the right night.

It came without fanfare.

The moon hung thin and pale beyond the narrow window slits. Sukuna had returned late from whatever carnage called him away, reeking faintly of smoke and copper. His outer robes discarded carelessly near the entrance. He collapsed onto the mat with a grunt, eyes sliding shut faster than usual. Exhaustion, perhaps. Or arrogance. Two eyes closed completely; the other pair fluttered half-lidded for a moment before drifting shut as well.

You lay motionless beside him until his breathing deepened slowly, even pulls that lifted the wide plane of his chest. Minutes stretched. Your heart slammed against your ribs so hard you were certain he would wake from the sound alone.

He didn’t.

You moved.

Silent as temple shadow, you slipped from beneath the thin cover. Bare feet met cold stone. You crossed to the chest on trembling legs, fingers numb as they worked the latch. The blade came free easily, it was lighter than you expected, wicked curve glinting faintly in the dying ember light. You gripped it so tightly your knuckles ached.

Adrenaline sang in your veins. Fear. Fury. Something darker.

You returned to the mat.

Sukuna laid on his back, arms splayed, tattoos stark against scarlet skin. Vulnerable in sleep the way only predators can afford to be. You swallowed once hard, then swung one leg over his waist. The yukata rode up your thighs as you settled your weight astride him, knees bracketing his hips. He was massive beneath you; your thighs strained to accommodate the breadth of him. The heat of his body immediately soaked through the thin layers separating you.

You leaned forward.

One hand braced on his chest. Feeling the steady thud of a heart too strong, too steady while the other brought the blade to his throat. The edge kissed skin just below the sharp line of his jaw. A single bead of blood welled where steel met flesh, dark and sluggish.

You pressed.

Not deep. Not yet.

Just enough to feel resistance. Enough to imagine the rest.

Your breath came in shallow pants. Tears pricked your eyes. Not from fear now, but from the sheer weight of what you were about to do. What you had to do.

He didn’t stir.

Not yet.

But beneath you, his body registered the new pressure. A subtle shift of his muscles tightening minutely under your thighs, the slow rise of his chest hitching once as though some animal instinct registered weight, warmth, threat.

His four arms remained lax.

His eyes stayed closed.

The blade trembled in your grip.

And still he slept. Deep enough that the King of Curses had not yet woken to the faithful girl straddling his waist with death at his throat.

He felt you.

Not the weight of your body first, not the press of your thighs around his hips or the tremor in your knees but the cold kiss of steel against his throat. A single drop of blood had already slid down the side of his neck, dark against scarlet skin, before instinct finally pulled him from sleep.

His eyes opened slowly.

Two at first, then the other pair followed, crimson slits widening into lazy, unhurried focus. No jolt. No surge of violence. Just that deliberate unfurling of awareness, like a beast deciding whether the thing on its back was prey or amusement.

He tilted his head just enough that the blade bit a fraction deeper, another thin line of red welling up. His gaze locked on yours.

You froze.

The hand holding the tanto stayed firm, knuckles white, but the rest of you went still as temple stone. You had never been this close. Not really. Not like this. You had seen him bare-chested after baths, yukata slipping low on his shoulders, tattoos shifting over muscle as he moved. You had felt the furnace heat of him at night when one careless arm draped across your waist. But this, straddling the King of Curses, your thighs spread wide over the hard plane of his abdomen, faces inches apart, was different. Intimate in a way that made your pulse roar in your ears. His breath ghosted warm against your lips. His eyes held yours without blinking, pupils blown wide in the low light, drinking you in.

“You’re quite brave,” he murmured, voice rough from sleep, low enough that it vibrated through your joined bodies. “Finally took your chance.”

Your mouth opened. Closed. The words came anyway, cracked and furious and trembling all at once.

“You took everything from me,” you whispered. “You’ll take from others just like you did me.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t deny it. One corner of his mouth curled small, almost fond.

“I will,” he said simply. No apology. No justification. Just truth laid bare between you like an offering.

Then quieter, almost gentle: “You should follow through with something if you’ve made up your mind.”

The blade trembled. Your arm ached from holding it steady. This was it. The moment you had rehearsed in the dark, the righteous stroke that would end him, end the fear, end the slow unraveling of who you used to be.

You couldn’t.

The steel stayed pressed to his throat, but your fingers wouldn’t close. Wouldn’t push. Tears burned hot at the corners of your eyes; you hated them as much as you hated him.

His lower pair of hands moved first slow, carefully. Sliding up your arms until they settled on your shoulders. The grip was firm. Not bruising. Just enough to anchor you.

He shook you once—light, almost playful.

“Do it,” he said.

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe right.

“If I don’t kill you,” you managed at last, voice breaking, “you’ll harm more.”

Something flickered in his eyes— amusement, maybe, or recognition. Then motion.

In one fluid roll he flipped you.

The world tilted. Stone mat rushed up to meet your back. Air punched out of your lungs. He loomed above you now. He was massive and unyielding, entirely caging you beneath the breadth of his chest and the weight of four arms. One hand braced beside your head. Another pinned your waist to the mat, your trembling fingers keeping the blade trapped between your palm and his throat. The edge still kissed skin; a fresh bead of blood slid down to drip onto your collarbone, warm and slow.

He didn’t pull away.

Didn’t disarm you.

He simply looked down at you, his eyes half-lidded, mouth curved in that same unreadable almost-smile.

You stared up at him, chest heaving, the tanto still clutched in your shaking fingers, steel pressed firm to the pulse at his neck.

Neither of you moved.

The braziers crackled faintly in the silence.

Blood dripped.

And in the shadowed space between your bodies. He was close enough for you to feel every rise and fall of his breath against your skin and you both simply looked at each other, suspended on the razor’s edge of what came next.

His lower arms moved first, slowly. Wide palms broad and warm as they settled around your waist. Fingers splayed wide, thumbs brushing the dip just above your hipbones. He held you firmer then, not trapping, not bruising, just claiming the shape of you as though measuring how perfectly you fit in his grasp. The pressure was steady. Inescapable. Your yukata was already loosened from the roll, it slid higher under the coaxing slide of his hands. Silk whispered against skin until cool air kissed the bare curve of your thighs, the soft swell of your hips, the vulnerable heat between them.

You were bare underneath.

He was bare too.

The realization hit like a struck bell: the hard, thickening length of him—two cocks, heavy and hot pressed flush against the slick seam of your cunt. No fabric between you now. Just skin on skin. The blunt heads nudged against your folds with every shallow breath he took, smearing warmth, promising stretch, promising ruin. Your body clenched on nothing; a shameful pulse of wet heat answered him before your mind could catch up.

It was too much.

Too aware.

Too close.

He never looked away.

Those four crimson eyes held yours, unblinking-unhurried— watching every flicker of defeat cross your face. Your lips parted on shallow pants. Tears clung to your lashes. The tanto still trembled in your grip, edge kissing the steady throb at his throat, but the fight had bled out of your arm. You looked small beneath him. Broken open. Waiting.

He leaned forward until his mouth hovered a breath from yours.

“Stupid girl,” he murmured, voice gravel-rough and almost tender.

Then he kissed you.

Slow.

Sweetly.

His lips caught yours with a gentleness that felt obscene coming from him a soft press, slow drag. His tongue tracing the seam of your mouth until you opened for him on instinct. He sucked at your lower lip, gentle pull that drew a broken sound from your throat. One of his upper hands cradled the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, tilting you deeper into the kiss while his lower hands pushed the yukata higher still, to bare the soft plane of your stomach, the undersides of your breasts, every inch of skin he could reach.

He moaned into your mouth low and hungry, it vibrated through your chest.

The blade slipped.

Your fingers loosened. The tanto fell from your grasp, clattering sharp against the stone floor somewhere to the side. Forgotten.

Then your now empty hand rose instead, hesitant and trembling and unsure, until your fingers found the nape of his neck. Tangled in the coarse silk of his hair. Pulled.

Not away.

Closer.

You arched beneath him without meaning to, breasts brushing the hard planes of his chest, cunt sliding slick against the underside of one thick cock. The friction dragged a whimper past your lips; he swallowed it, tongue stroking deeper, tasting the salt of your tears and the faint sweetness still lingering from the rice he’d fed you nights before.

His lower hands tightened on your waist, his thumbs stroking slow circles over your hipbones. Keeping you pinned, keeping you open, keeping you his.

He broke the kiss only long enough to drag his mouth along your jaw, down the column of your throat where his lips felt your pulse flutter against it. His tongue flicked over the skin there, tasting your defiance turned to surrender.

You shuddered.

Your fingers tightened in his hair.

And beneath him, bare and trembling, you stopped pretending you wanted anything else.

His lower hands tightened on your hips, thick fingers digging into soft flesh just enough to bruise tomorrow and he rocked you forward in a slow, steady grind. Your slick cunt dragged along the thick undersides of his cocks, parting around them, coating them in the shameful evidence of your want. The friction was obscene: hot, slippery, relentless. Every slide nudged the swollen heads against your clit before gliding back, teasing without entering, promising everything and giving nothing yet.

A raw and broken moan tore from your throat in an entirely involuntary rush. You couldn’t swallow it down. Couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there.

He exhaled against your skin, a low, pleased rumble that vibrated through your ribs.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice thick with dark satisfaction. “So wet for me, doll… so wet already.”

The words landed like a brand. You swallowed hard, throat clicking, but your arms only wound tighter around his neck, your fingers knotting in his hair, nails scraping scalp as though you needed to anchor yourself to the very thing destroying you. Your thighs trembled where they bracketed his waist; your hips jerked once on their own, chasing the pressure before shame could catch up.

He kissed down the column of your throat, slow and open-mouthed, then lower still. His mouth found the soft swell of your breasts, tongue flicking once over one peaked nipple before he closed his lips around it. Sucked. Hard. The wet pull drew a sharp gasp from you; your back arched off the mat, offering more without meaning to. He switched to the other, teeth grazing just enough to sting before soothing with slow, languid licks. Your nipples throbbed under the attention, so sensitive and aching now flushed dark from his mouth.

One of his upper hands slid down the inside of your thigh, palm rough and warm, pushing your leg wider. Then the other was spreading you open until the cool air of the chamber kissed the slick heat between your thighs. Exposed. Vulnerable. His cocks slotted perfectly now, the thick lengths gliding through your folds, the blunt heads catching on your clit with every roll of his hips. Harder. Faster. The rhythm built until wet sounds filled the quiet room: your arousal, his low groans, the slick slide of skin on skin.

A high and helpless whimper escaped your lips, lifting your hips to meet him, cunt clenching around nothing, desperate for more than friction. Tears slipped free again, sliding down your temples into your hair, but they weren’t from fear this time. Not entirely.

He lifted his head just enough to watch your face, with eyes half-lidded, mouth wet and swollen from kissing you earlier. One hand came up to thumb away a tear, almost gentle.

“Look at you,” he rasped, rocking you harder against him, letting you feel every ridged inch of him glide over your clit. “Already dripping. Already begging without saying the word.”

Your breath hitched. Your fingers dug deeper into his shoulders.

He leaned in again, his mouth brushing yours, not quite kissing, just breathing you in.

“Say it,” he murmured against your lips. “Tell me what you want, little faithful. Or I’ll keep you right here teasing your eager cunt, until you cry for it.”

Your thighs shook. Your cunt pulsed. The heat between you was unbearable now so wet, achingly unbearable.

And still he waited with slow patients, rocking you slow and filthy along the length of him. Watching every flicker of surrender cross your face.

You broke first.

The words slipped out on a trembling exhale, soft and fractured that was barely louder than a whisper. “Please…”

It wasn’t surrender spoken in anger. It was need, raw and stripped bare, voice cracking on the single syllable like glass under pressure. Your thighs shook where they cradled his hips; your fingers clenched in his hair so tight it pulled at the roots. You were shaking apart beneath him, cunt fluttering uselessly against the slow, torturous glide of his cocks along your folds, and still he waited. Watching you succumb. Drinking in the way defeat looked on your face when it finally wore your pride thin.

His mouth curved against your temple, almost gentle.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he murmured, voice low and thick with something darker than amusement. “I’ll fill you up.”

He shifted then in a slow and purposeful motion, aligning the thicker of his two cocks with your entrance. The blunt, leaking head nudged past your folds, parting slick lips that had never known anything but empty ache. You were untouched. Virgin. He could feel it in every instinctive clench, every flutter of your inner walls trying to decide whether to push him out or pull him deeper. Your body was too eager and too overwhelmed, tight untrained muscles fluttering wildly around the intrusion before he’d even breached you properly.

He kissed you again, deeper this time. His lips pressed more firmly, tongue sliding slow and possessive against yours, swallowing the small, helpless sounds that spilled from your throat as he began to press forward.

The fat tip breached you.

Your cunt squeezed hard, reflexive and impossibly tight around the sheer size of him. A sharp, startled cry muffled against his mouth. He groaned low in his chest at the resistance, at the velvet heat clamping down like it wanted to strangle him already. Precum smeared inside you, thick and hot, easing the way just enough that he could inch forward another fraction. Your walls fluttered desperately around the fat crown trying to accommodate the sheer size of it. Failing and trying desperately again. Too much. Too full already and he’d barely started.

He held your hips steady with his lower hands, thumbs stroking soothing circles over the sensitive skin just above your mound while one upper hand cradled the back of your neck, keeping your mouth locked to his. The other braced beside your head, caging you without crushing.

“Relax,” he rasped against your lips, voice rough with restraint. “Breathe for me, doll. You’re taking it so well already.”

Another slow push.

Your back arched off the mat, a sharp gasp tearing free as another inch sank in. The stretch burned sweet, aching and so overwhelming. Your cunt spasming around him, milking the thick head like it couldn’t decide if it hated or craved the invasion. Tears slipped hot down your cheeks; he licked them away without breaking the kiss, tasting salt and surrender.

He didn’t rush.

He rocked into you with tiny, shallow thrusts working the his fat tip deeper with every careful roll of his hips, letting your body adjust inch by torturous inch. Your nails raked down his shoulders; your thighs trembled wide around him. The second cock laid against your cunt, still hard and heavy, it dragged along your clit with every motion, smearing slick, keeping the pleasure sharp and constant even as the stretch threatened to undo you.

You whimpered into his mouth a high and broken but there was neediness layered in.

He swallowed it.

Pressed deeper.

Your cunt yielded another reluctant inch for him, your walls fluttering, squeezing then fluttering again, your walls clinged to him so tightly he had to grit his teeth against the urge to slam home. Not yet. Not when you were still trembling like this, still so sweetly overwhelmed, still giving him every fractured sound and shudder.

He broke the kiss only to drag his mouth to your ear.

“Good girl,” he breathed, voice wrecked with want. “Let me in. Let me fill that tight little cunt the way it’s begging to be filled.”

Another slow, relentless push.

Your body opened a little, just barely around the thickest part of him.

And still he kept going in slow patient amd mercilessly trusts, determined to bury every inch until you were stuffed full and weeping for more.

Too big.

The thought looped through your mind like a broken sutra, too big, too big, too big as the thick head of his cock sank deeper, stretching you beyond what felt possible. Your walls fluttered wildly around him, spasming in protest and pleasure both, forced to yield inch by merciless inch. He swelled inside you, filling you up up up until every shallow breath pushed your belly taut, until you could feel the blunt pressure of him high against the deepest place inside.

Your body had no choice but to mould itself around him.

Soft inner walls reshaped themselves to the heavy ridge of his cock, clenching desperately, fluttering around him trying to push him out and pull him deeper all at once. He pushed in again slowly and relentless, and your cunt gave another reluctant inch, the stretch burning sweet and sharp until tears spilled freely down your cheeks. He was rearranging you from the inside, carving space where there had been none, claiming every fluttering inch as his.

The fat head kissed your cervix properly then, it pressed harder. You gasped, high and startled, hips jerking uselessly beneath him. He didn’t stop. Another shallow thrust and the tight ring of muscle yielded fully opening for him like it had been waiting, like your body had always known it would bend to this. He bottomed out with a low groan that vibrated through your joined bodies, cock buried to the hilt, pulsing hot against the deepest part of you.

“So tight,” he rasped against your throat, voice wrecked with restraint. “Look at you… taking it all. Opening right up for me like a good little thing.”

You whimpered softly, overwhelmed by the feeling, your nails digging crescent moons into his shoulders. Your cunt clenched hard around him, milking the thick length instinctively, every spasm dragging a rough sound from his chest. He stayed still for a long moment, letting you feel every inch, every throb, every vein. Letting your body adjust to the brutal fullness.

His second cock was still hard, still leaking as it dragged heavy along your clit with every tiny shift of his hips, smearing precum and your slick in filthy streaks. He could imagine it: both cocks splitting you open, stretching your poor cunt until it gaped around him, until you sobbed from the overstimulation alone. The thought made his hips twitch forward once sharp and involuntary, bumping your cervix again and drawing a choked cry from your lips.

But not yet.

He wasn’t going to force it. Not tonight.

He wanted to work this tight little cunt open on one first, to train it to take him properly, to crave the stretch, to weep and flutter every time he sank in deep. He rolled his hips in slow, grinding circles. Keeping himself buried to the root while the blunt head rubbed insistently against that sensitive inner spot. Your thighs shook around his waist; your breath came in ragged little pants.

He kissed you again messy, open-mouthed. Swallowing every broken sound from your quivering lips as he began to move.

Shallow thrusts at first, barely pulling out before sliding back in, letting your walls cling desperately to every retreating inch. Then deeper. Harder. Each stroke dragged along your fluttering walls, bumping your cervix, forcing it to soften further under the relentless pressure until it kissed the tip of him like a welcome.

Your body trembled beneath him, you were sweat-slick, overstimulated and utterly full. Your cunt squeezed him like a vice wet and hot around him but greedy now, coating him in slick that dripped down to soak the mat beneath you.

He groaned low into your mouth.

“That’s it,” he murmured, hips snapping onc deeper, it felt punishing, made your back arch and your toes curl. “Let it open for me, doll. Let me ruin this pretty cunt until it only knows my shape.”

Another thrust, harder still. Your cervix yielding completely now, letting him grind against the deepest place inside you.

You sobbed against his lips, the pleasure and pain blurring into something white-hot and overwhelming.

And yet still he moved slow when you needed slow, hard when your body begged for it. Working you open, reshaping you, claiming you until there was nothing left but the slick slide of him inside you and the broken, needy sounds spilling from your throat.

Fuck, it was so sloppy.

The way your cunt finally gave in and opened wide and wet and greedy around the thick length of him, cunt making obscene, slick sounds with every slow withdrawal and deeper plunge. Your walls clung desperately, fluttering and spasming, coated in a thick sheen of your own arousal that dripped down his shaft, down your thighs, soaking the mat beneath you in dark, glistening patches. No resistance left. Just raw, yielding heat that swallowed him whole every time he sank back in.

He watched it happen.

Watched the way your soft belly began to bulge properly now, unmistakably every time he bottomed out. The fat head of his cock pressed high against your cervix, then higher still, stretching your insides until the outline of him showed beneath your skin. A slow, obscene swell that rose just below your navel, then receded slightly when he pulled back, only to bloom again with the next deep thrust. He could see it. Feel it. The way your body reshaped itself around him, forced to accommodate every ridged inch until the shape of his cock was etched into your flesh.

He was mesmerised.

One of his upper hands left the mat and slid down, his palm broad and warm. His hand settled right over that curious swell. Fingers splayed wide, pressing gently at first, then firmer, feeling the hard length of himself moving beneath the soft layer of your stomach. He groaned low in his throat with rough, reverence. Hips stuttering once at the sensation.

“Look at that,” he rasped, voice thick with dark wonder. “Look how full you are, doll. Look how your little cunt bulges for me.”

You whimpered high and helpless, your head tipping back against the mat, tears slipping sideways into your hair. The pressure of his hand only made it worse, made you feel every inch more vividly, every throb, every slow grind against that deep, sensitive place inside. Your walls clenched hard around him in response; slick gushed anew, coating him, easing the next brutal slide home.

He rocked deeper but deliberately now. Watching the swell rise and fall beneath his palm like he was mapping new territory. His thumb traced the outline once slow, it felt possessive, larger fingers following the exact ridge of his cock as it pressed outward. Another groan tore from him, low and wrecked.

“Fuck,” he breathed, almost to himself. “I could watch this forever. Watch you take me… watch this pretty belly swell every time I fill you up.”

He leaned down, his mouth finding yours again, messy and hungry, kissing you through the next deep thrust that made the bulge bloom higher. His lower hands gripped your hips tighter, angling you just right so every stroke dragged along that spot that made your thighs shake and your cunt flutter wildly.

You sobbed into his mouth overwhelmed and overstuffed on his cock, ruined in the sweetest way, your nails still raking down his back as your body surrendered completely.

He didn’t speed up.

He kept it slow, torturously slow. Savoring every sloppy, wet slide, every visible proof of how thoroughly he was claiming you. Hand still pressed to your belly. Eyes fixed on the swell. Mesmerised by the sight of his own cock reshaping you from the inside out.

And still he moved against you deeper. Watching and feeling you. Owning every trembling inch of the faithful girl who had once held a blade to his throat.

Now you only held him. Deep you felt him, tummy bulging with how big he is, you felt full. Claimed and utterly his in this moment.

The wet noises filled the chamber were filthy and unmistakable. Every deep plunge of his cock dragged slick sounds from your stretched cunt: the lewd squelch of your walls clinging desperately to him, the wet slap of skin meeting skin, the obscene drip of your arousal coating his shaft and pooling beneath you. No hiding it. No pretending this wasn’t happening. Your body sang for him in every sloppy, soaked rhythm.

He fucked deeper into you now, faster. His lower hands locked around your waist like iron bands, holding you steady while he pulled you down hard onto every thick inch. The force of it jolted through you: cervix kissed roughly with each snap of his hips, the bulge in your belly rising sharp and obscene every time he bottomed out. Your thighs trembled uselessly around him; your nails raked red lines down his back. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe right. Only felt full, stretched and utterly claimed.

His second cock, still untouched against you dragged heavy and hot along your clit with every brutal thrust. The fat, leaking tip slid over the swollen bud in perfect, relentless friction: up when he pulled back, down when he slammed home. Edging you mercilessly. Building the pressure until your whole body wound tight, thighs shaking, cunt fluttering wildly around the cock already buried to the hilt.

“Fuuuck, look at you,” he growled against your throat, voice wrecked and reverent. “Taking it so deep… dripping everywhere… gonna cum for me, aren’t you, doll?”

You couldn’t answer. Only whimpered high, broken and needy, as the dual assault pushed you higher. The thick length inside you grinding against every sensitive spot; the second cock rubbing filthy circles over your clit until sparks burst behind your eyes.

Then it hit.

Hard.

Your cunt clamped down like a vice. Cunt spasming wildly and milking him in violent waves as you came undone around the fat cock splitting you open. A sob tore from your throat; your back arched off the mat, hips jerking uncontrollably as pleasure ripped through you in white-hot pulses. Slick gushed around him hot and messily coated his shaft, dripping down to slick the second cock still teasing your oversensitive clit. Your walls fluttered and squeezed, greedy and relentless, trying to pull him deeper even as your body shook apart.

He groaned low, almost sounding pained. His hips stuttering once at the sudden, brutal grip of your orgasm. His fingers dug harder into your waist, holding you pinned as he fucked you through it: short, punishing thrusts that dragged every last tremor from your cunt, making the bulge in your belly pulse with every slam.

“That’s it,” he rasped, mouth brushing your ear, voice thick with dark satisfaction. “Cum all over my cock… make it sloppy… make it yours.”

You shuddered, the aftershocks rolling through you. Hot tears now slipping down your cheeks as your cunt kept fluttering around him, still so full, still so stretched, still weeping slick with every slow grind he gave you now.

He didn’t stop moving.

Didn’t pull out.

Just kept you impaled deep on him, steadily watching your face with half-lidded eyes as your body trembled in the aftermath, the second cock still dragging lazy, teasing strokes over your throbbing clit.

Ready.

Patient.

Waiting to see how much more his sweet, ruined faithful could take.

He fucked into your creaming cunt with purpose now, his deep, punishing strokes that slapped wet and filthy against your thighs every time he bottomed out. Your slick had turned thick and white around his shaft, frothing at the base with every brutal plunge, coating him in creamy evidence of how thoroughly your body had surrendered. The bulge in your belly pulsed visibly with each thrust, rising sharp when he buried himself to the hilt, receding only to bloom again as he dragged back and slammed forward. Your walls fluttered helplessly around him, milking greedily, still spasming from the orgasm that had ripped through you moments before.

He groaned low, his voice was wrecked and ragged, his hips now snapping harder with speed. Chasing the tight, wet heat that gripped him like it never wanted to let go.

“Fuuuck look at this messy little pussy,” he rasped, one hand still pressed to the swell of your stomach, feeling himself move beneath your skin. “Creaming all over my cock… taking it so deep… gonna fill you up, doll. Gonna stuff this cunt so full you’ll feel me for days.”

Your head thrashed against the mat, fat tears streaming down, your mouth opened on broken moans you couldn’t swallow down. Your nails dug into his shoulders; your thighs trembled wide and useless around his waist. Every thrust knocked the air from your lungs, bumped your cervix, ground the fat head against that spot inside until stars burst behind your eyes again.

He was close.

You could feel it, the way his cocks throbbed heavier inside and against you, the way his rhythm stuttered, the low growl building in his chest. His lower hands clamped down on your hips, bruising and possessive. Sukuna yanked you down hard onto every upward snap as he fucked his way toward release.

Then it hit him.

A rough, guttural sound tore from his throat. Half growl, half moan as he slammed in one final time, burying himself to the root. His cock pulsed violently inside you, swelling thicker still, and then he came..hot and it felt endless inside of you.

Rope after thick rope flooded your fluttering pussy, his hot cum spurting deep against your cervix, filling you so fast, so much, that your walls couldn’t contain it all. Your cunt clenched reflexively around the invasion, milking him greedily, but there was too much. It leaked out around his shaft in creamy white streaks, dripping down to soak the mat, yet still he kept pumping his cum deeper. His hips grinding in slow, deep circles now, forcing every last drop higher inside you.

Your belly swelled visibly, bloating with the sheer volume of his release. The bulge that had once only shown his cock now rounded softer, fuller, stretching your skin taut as cum packed your womb and pussy full. You whimpered overstimulated, overwhelmed. Feeling the obscene pressure build inside, the heavy slosh of it every time he shifted even slightly.

He stayed buried deep, his cock still twitching, still leaking the last weak spurts inside you, while one hand slid up to cup the new, soft swell of your lower belly. Fingers splayed wide, pressing gently, feeling the warmth and fullness he’d forced into you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice low and reverent, eyes fixed on the way your cunt bulged around him, lips stretched tight, creamy cum seeping out in slow, thick rivulets. “Look at you… stuffed so full… bloating with my cum like a perfect little vessel.”

You shuddered beneath him, body trembling, your cunt still fluttering weakly around the thick length keeping you plugged with his cum. Tears slipped hot down your cheeks; your breath came in shallow, hiccuping pants.

He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear, voice dark and satisfied.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured, hips giving one last lazy roll that made more cum leak out around him. “Every inch… every drop… every swell. All mine.”

And still he didn’t pull out.

Just stayed seated deep letting you feel the heavy, warm weight of him inside, the obscene bloat of your belly, the slow drip of his seed claiming you from the inside out while the braziers flickered low and the fortress held its breath around the ruined faithful girl who had finally, completely, fallen.

The chamber settled into a heavy, humid quiet.

Only the low crackle of dying braziers and the uneven rhythm of your shared breathing remained. Your body felt foreign. Softened, swollen, reshaped from the inside out. His cock still rested deep inside you, softening slowly but not withdrawing, keeping every thick drop of his release plugged tight where it belonged. The obscene bloat in your lower belly had settled into a warm, heavy fullness that shifted with every shallow inhale. When you moved even slightly, you could feel the slow, lazy slosh of cum deep within you. It was thick, warm and still too much to be contained.

A faint trickle escaped anyway, creamy white slipping from where your stretched lips clung to the base of his shaft, sliding down the cleft of your ass to pool beneath you on the already ruined mat. The scent of it filled the air: musky, salty, unmistakably him. Mixed with the sharp tang of your own release. It clung to your thighs, your skin, your hair. There was no escaping it.

You lay limp beneath him, your limbs heavy and trembling faintly in aftershocks. Your cunt throbbed around the softening length still buried inside, fluttering weakly every few heartbeats like it couldn’t decide whether to mourn the stretch or beg for more. Tears had dried on your cheeks, leaving salty tracks; your lips felt swollen from his kisses, bruised and tingling.

He hadn’t moved much.

One lower hand stayed splayed over the soft swell of your abdomen, his palm warm. One thick thumb tracing idle, slow circles over the place where his cum had bloated you full. The other lower hand rested at the small of your back, holding you arched just enough to keep him seated deep. His upper arms braced on either side of your head, caging without crushing, while his face hovered close, his breath warm against your temple.

He watched you.

Not with hunger now. Not with that predatory gleam. Something quieter. Almost contemplative.

His thumb pressed once, gently against the rounded curve of your belly. You whimpered at the pressure; more cum leaked out in a slow, warm trickle. He exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh.

“Still leaking,” he murmured, voice low and rough from exertion. “Even plugged like this… your greedy little cunt can’t hold it all.”

You swallowed. Throat raw. No words came.

He shifted up slow, pulling back just enough that the fat head dragged along your oversensitive walls. You gasped sharp, startled as another thick gush of cum followed the motion, spilling free in a messy rush. Your thighs trembled; your hips jerked involuntarily.

He stilled again. Didn’t pull out completely.

Just watched the way your body reacted, how your cunt clenched around nothing now that he’d eased back an inch, how more of his seed dripped out in slow, obscene rivulets.

One hand slid up and cupped your cheek. Thumb brushing away the last damp track of tears.

“You took it well,” he said. Simple. Almost soft. “Took every drop. Look at you… all swollen and full. Marked inside and out.”

Your breath hitched.

He leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. Not demanding. Not claiming. Just there.

Then he finally began to ease out.

Inch by torturous inch.

Your walls fluttered desperately around the retreating length clinging and fluttering, trying to keep him inside even now. When the head finally slipped free with a wet pop, a fresh flood followed thick and hot, pouring from your gaping cunt in a slow, creamy cascade. It soaked your thighs, the mat, everything beneath you. Your belly deflated slightly as the pressure eased, but the fullness lingered: a deep, aching warmth that pulsed with every heartbeat.

You whimpered again, the sound even more small and broken, legs falling open wider on instinct as your body tried to adjust to the sudden emptiness.

He stayed above you, watching silently.

One hand dipped between your thighs, then two thick fingers sliding easily through the mess, gathering the slick mix of cum and your release before pushing back inside. Slow. Deep. Plugging you again with just his fingers while the rest continued to leak around them.

“Shh,” he murmured when you shuddered. “Keep it in. Let it settle.”

His fingers curled once to press against that spot inside that made your hips twitch again, then they stilled.

He withdrew them slowly. Brought them to his mouth. Licked them clean with deliberate swipes of his tongue, his eyes never leaving yours.

Then he gathered you.

Four arms moved at once, lifting you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. Your head lolled against his shoulder; your legs draped limp over one arm. Cum still dripped from between your thighs, warm trails sliding down his skin now too.

He carried you to the alcove where the wooden tub still waited, water long cooled but clean. Uraume had prepared it earlier, before everything unraveled.

He lowered you into it carefully.

The water stung at first, cool against fever-hot skin, then it soothed. He knelt at the edge, one hand supporting your neck so your head rested against the rim, the other dipping beneath the surface to cup water and rinse the mess from your thighs, your folds, your belly.

Gentle.

Methodical.

He washed you like something precious. Something his.

When the water turned cloudy with the evidence of what he’d done, he lifted you out again and wrapped you in a thick, dry cloth, carried you back to the mat (a fresh one already laid out; Uraume was nothing if not efficient).

He laid you down. Pulled the thin cover over your trembling body.

Then he stretched out beside you. Close always close, with one arm draped over your waist, palm settling once more over the soft, lingering swell of your lower belly.

“Sleep,” he said against your hair. Voice low. Quiet. “You’ll need it.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion crashing over you like a wave.

The last thing you felt was the steady rise and fall of his chest at your back, the warmth of his hand cradling the place he had filled, claimed, ruined, and somehow kept.

The flood had passed.

But the aftermath lingered, with you. You'd never been this close to being worshiped, oh how the roles were reversed and he would always keep you tethering between God and him.

Waking up felt entirely new after being so thoroughly claimed.

Your body no longer belonged only to you. Every slow breath reminded you of the night before in vivid, aching detail. Between your thighs your pussy throbbed with a deep, sweet pain that radiated outward from the very center of your cunt all the way into your womb. 

The soft folds were swollen and tender, still slick with the remnants of everything he had pumped into you. Your inner walls felt stretched and sensitive, fluttering around nothing yet remembering exactly how it had felt to be split open and filled beyond capacity. 

Your stomach carried a lingering heaviness, a warm fullness that made your lower belly feel softly rounded and claimed, as if his cum still sat heavy inside you even after the slow leak that had happened during the night.

You awoke first.

The chamber was dim, lit only by the faint glow of embers that had burned low through the hours. Cool morning air drifted in through the narrow slits high in the stone walls. Ryomen Sukuna lay asleep beside you, his massive frame taking up most of the wide mat. 

One of his lower arms was still draped heavily across your waist, palm resting possessively over the gentle swell of your abdomen where he had pressed so many times the night before. His breathing was deep and even, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm that you could feel against your back. Two of his eyes were closed in true sleep while the other pair remained half lidded in that strange way of his, as though even unconscious he refused to be entirely vulnerable.

You could not sleep any longer.

The intensity of every sensation kept your mind spinning. You wanted to push him off, to scramble away from the heat of his body and the weight of his claim, to reclaim some small piece of the girl who had once knelt quietly in a temple. 

Your hands twitched with the urge. Yet when you shifted slightly, the solid warmth of him pressed closer instead of repelling you. His arm felt strangely comforting in the quiet dawn, heavy and steady like an anchor keeping you from drifting into panic. The scent of him clung to your skin, musk and smoke and something darker that made your pulse flutter even as shame burned in your cheeks.

Instead of shoving his hand away you reached down slowly and wrapped your fingers around his much larger one. You lifted it carefully and pressed his palm flat against your chest, right over the frantic racing of your heart. The contact was warm, rough, grounding. 

Your heart hammered harder beneath his touch, wild and unsteady, begging for something you could not name. You wanted it to stop, wanted the frantic beat to quiet so you could think clearly again, so you could remember how to hate him properly.

He stirred.

Not fully awake yet, but aware enough. His fingers flexed once against your skin, then pressed harder, spreading wide so the heel of his palm rested firmly over your racing heart while his fingertips brushed the upper swell of your breast. The increased pressure stole your breath. A soft gasp slipped from your lips as the weight of his hand grounded the frantic flutter inside your chest.

He opened his eyes the rest of the way, crimson gaze settling on your face in the dim light. His voice came low and rough with sleep, rumbling through the quiet space between you.

“Does that feel better?”

You could only nod, small and shaky, unable to form words. Fresh tears slipped free from the corners of your eyes, sliding silently down your temples and into your hair. They were not from pain or fear this time, but from the overwhelming tangle of sensations and emotions you could no longer separate. The sweet ache between your thighs, the heavy fullness low in your belly, the comforting press of his hand over your heart, the way his body still curved protectively around yours even in half sleep. Everything felt too much and somehow not enough all at once.

He didn't pull away.

Instead he kept his palm exactly where you had placed it, pressing with steady, reassuring strength while his thumb brushed once, almost tenderly, along the curve of your collarbone. His other arms remained relaxed around you, one still cradling your waist, the rest loose but close.

You lay there in the quiet morning light, heart still racing beneath his touch, tears slipping free, pussy throbbing with the intimate memory of how deeply he had claimed you, stomach full and warm with the evidence of his release. And for the first time since he had carried you from the burning temple you did not try to run from the monster who held you.

You simply held his hand tighter to your chest and let the tears fall.

As the tears continued to fall your breathing slowly evened out once more. Exhaustion pulled you under again, your body surrendering to sleep despite the lingering ache and the storm of feelings swirling inside your chest. Your lashes fluttered once then stilled, cheeks still damp, lips slightly parted on a soft exhale. 

The morning light filtering through the narrow slits in the stone walls painted gentle shadows across your face, highlighting the faint redness around your eyes and the way your brows had relaxed in unconscious rest.

Sukuna remained awake, propped on one elbow, four eyes fixed on you with an unusual stillness. He never wondered how he made anyone feel. Pain was something he understood perfectly well, something he could cause with casual ease and never lose sleep over. He had spilled rivers of blood without a second thought, had watched villages burn and priests scream and never once asked himself if his victims hated him in their final moments. Their pain simply existed because he decided it should.

Yet now he found himself watching the slow rise and fall of your chest and wondering.

Were you in pain because of him?

Not the sweet ache between your thighs or the heavy fullness still settled low in your belly, those he expected and even took quiet pride in. But something deeper. Did you hate him now, truly hate him, after he had taken you so completely? After he had spread you open beneath the monster who had ripped you from everything you once held sacred? After he had flooded your untouched cunt until your stomach swelled with his cum and your voice broke on moans you could not hold back?

His fingers moved without conscious thought, the rough pad of one thumb tracing the glistening path of a tear that had slipped down your temple. The skin there was soft, still warm from sleep and emotion. You looked tired in a way that went beyond the night’s exertions. A little more delicate, perhaps, the faithful servant girl who had once knelt in prayer now lying claimed and tear-streaked in the bed of the King of Curses.

And yet.

He remembered how you had pulled him closer.

When the blade had clattered to the floor your hand had risen not to push him away but to tangle in his hair and tug him down into the kiss. You had arched beneath him, thighs spreading wider, cunt clenching greedily around the thick cock that split you open. Even at the height of your surrender you had chosen to draw him in rather than shove him out.

That had to mean something.

If you had truly wanted him gone you would have pushed when the knife dropped. You would have fought when he rolled you beneath him. Instead you had whimpered into his mouth, nails raking down his back, hips lifting to meet every deep thrust until you came hard around him and then again when he flooded you full.

His thumb brushed another tear away, slower this time, almost careful.

He studied the relaxed lines of your face, the way your lashes cast faint shadows on your cheeks, the subtle parting of your lips. The hand you had pressed to your own chest still rested beneath his palm, your heartbeat steadier now in sleep but still quick enough that he could feel it. He did not move his hand. The weight seemed to comfort you even unconscious, and for reasons he did not bother examining he found he liked keeping it there.

Sukuna shifted slightly closer, careful not to wake you, letting the heat of his body wrap around yours once more. One of his lower arms remained draped across your waist, palm resting lightly over the soft swell of your belly where his claim still lingered warm and heavy inside you.

He watched you sleep for a long time, tracing idle patterns along your tear-damp cheek with the gentlest touch he had ever allowed himself. The questions lingered in the back of his mind, unfamiliar and strangely persistent.

Pain?

Hate?

Or something else entirely that had made a temple girl pull a monster closer instead of driving him away?

For the first time in his long, bloody existence Ryomen Sukuna did not have an immediate answer.

And so he simply lay there, holding you, watching the slow rhythm of your breathing, wondering quietly what it meant that you had chosen to keep his hand against your racing heart instead of pushing it away.

Daylight brought no mercy.

When you woke the second time the chamber was brighter, pale morning light spilling through the high slits and painting long stripes across the stone floor. Your body ached in ways you had never imagined possible. Every small movement sent fresh waves of soreness through your core. Sitting up hurt. The simple act of shifting your weight made the tender muscles between your thighs protest sharply, a deep, dull throb that radiated outward from your swollen pussy all the way into your womb. Your lower belly still carried that heavy, warm fullness, a constant reminder of how thoroughly he had flooded you. Even the soft silk of the yukata brushing against your skin felt too much against the sensitive folds that had been stretched and used so relentlessly the night before.

You moved slowly, carefully, wincing as you rose from the mat. Standing hurt. Walking hurt. The ache pulsed with every step, a sweet, shameful reminder that your body had been claimed and reshaped by the King of Curses. Shame burned hot in your cheeks. You felt weak for the way your cunt still fluttered faintly at the memory, for the way a fresh trickle of his dried cum clung to your inner thighs when you moved. You told yourself it was only pain. Only the aftermath of violence. Yet your mind kept drifting back to the heat of his hands, the low rumble of his voice, the way he had held you afterward.

Sukuna did not crowd you.

He sat across the chamber on the wide ledge by the window, one knee drawn up, four arms resting loosely. He watched you but did not rise. Did not approach. Did not speak. There was deliberate space between you now, an invisible line he refused to cross. He wanted you to come to him if you needed anything. He wanted you to choose, even in this small thing. After taking everything else he could at least grant you the right to decide when you sought his presence. He would not rob you of that last fragile scrap of agency.

You felt the absence of him immediately.

At first you told yourself it was relief. You busied your hands folding the thin cover on the mat, smoothing wrinkles that did not exist, avoiding his gaze. But the longer the silence stretched the more your body betrayed you. A quiet longing bloomed beneath the shame and the pain. You missed the solid heat of his frame behind you. Missed the weight of his arm across your waist. Missed the strange comfort of his palm pressed over your racing heart. The realization made fresh shame flood your chest. How could you want the monster who had burned your temple and stolen you away? How could you crave the very hands that had spread you open and filled you until you bulged with his release?

You felt too weak for wanting him.

When it came time to dress you turned your back to him completely. Your fingers trembled as you slipped out of the night yukata and into a fresh one, trying to hide the marks he had left on your skin, the faint bruises on your hips where his fingers had gripped, the soft swell of your belly that had not yet returned to its usual flatness. You kept your shoulders hunched, arms crossed over your chest, shrinking into yourself as though you could disappear from his sight if you made yourself small enough.

He saw every motion.

He saw the way you hid yourself from his gaze, the deliberate angle of your body, the nervous hunch of your shoulders. Something tight and unpleasant twisted in his chest at the sight. He did not like it. Not one bit. The faithful girl who had once met his eyes with trembling defiance now curled away from him like a wounded animal. But he made no comment. He did not rise. He did not reach for you. He simply watched in silence, jaw tight, four eyes narrowed with an emotion he refused to name.

The distance stretched between you, heavy and unspoken.

You finished tying the sash with shaking hands and stood there, back still turned, heart hammering against your ribs. Pain pulsed between your thighs with every heartbeat. Shame burned in your veins. And beneath it all, quiet and insistent, the growing need to cross the chamber and seek the very monster who had caused it all.

Sukuna waited.

Patient.

Silent.

Wondering how long it would take before the girl who had pulled him closer in the dark would choose to come to him again in the daylight.

The days that followed carried the same heavy ache between your thighs, a constant, throbbing reminder that refused to fade.

When you bathed alone in the wooden tub, the warm water only made everything more obvious. Your pussy had become a terrible, swollen mess. The outer lips were puffy and sensitive, the inner folds still slick with an unusual, persistent wetness that had nothing to do with the bath. Your fingers slipped between your thighs almost without permission, parting the tender flesh to inspect the damage. Heat bloomed instantly at the lightest touch. Thick, creamy remnants of his cum still clung inside you, mixing with your own fresh slick until everything felt glossy and overheated. Every gentle press made your cunt flutter and leak a little more, the slickness coating your fingertips in a shameful sheen.

You hated how aware your body had become.

Your eyes kept drifting to him whenever he was near. You told yourself you were only looking, only noticing. But the stares lingered. Over the sharp lines of his face, the powerful set of his four arms, the broad expanse of his tattooed chest, the hard ridges of his abdomen. Then lower. Always lower. The heavy, intimidating weight between his thighs that you now knew so intimately. Your imagination supplied every detail without mercy: the thick veins, the way both cocks had throbbed against you, the brutal stretch, the endless flood that had left you bloated and dripping.

Your cunt clenched hard at the memory, another rush of slick slipping free to trail down your inner thigh. Shame burned so fiercely you had to turn away and press your forehead to the cool stone wall until the feeling passed. Your body knew exactly what it wanted now. Your pussy knew what it craved. The knowledge made you feel impossibly dirty, impossibly weak. You pushed the thoughts aside with gritted teeth and forced yourself to finish bathing.

Eventually the longing for the outside world grew stronger than the shame.

One quiet afternoon you finally gathered the courage to approach him. He was lounging on the wide ledge again, watching the horizon through the window slit. You kept your gaze lowered, voice small and hesitant.

“May I… go outside? Just for a little while. I miss the feel of grass beneath my feet. Sunlight on my skin. Fresh air.”

He studied you for a long moment, crimson eyes unreadable. Then he gave a single nod.

“I will take you.”

He did not make you walk far. He carried you most of the way, one set of arms cradling you against his chest while the others remained free. The journey ended at a secluded lakeside not far from the fortress cliffs. Tall reeds swayed gently at the water’s edge. Smooth rocks lined the shore, warmed by the sun. The air smelled of pine and clear water. Sunlight glittered across the lake’s surface like scattered jewels.

You had not asked for the lake specifically, but Sukuna had chosen it anyway, thinking the open view and soft grass might please you. He set you down on a broad, flat rock near the water and stepped back, giving you space once more.

At first it was perfect.

You closed your eyes, tilted your face toward the sun, and let the warmth sink into your skin. Bare feet pressed into cool grass. Fresh air filled your lungs. For a few blissful moments the constant ache between your thighs faded into the background.

Then you sat.

The moment your weight settled on the rock the soreness flared again. Your swollen pussy lips spread slightly against the smooth stone through the thin layers of your yukata. The unusual slickness that had been building all morning could no longer be contained. A warm trickle escaped, then another. You felt the wet heat seep out of you in slow, shameful pulses. Your cunt clenched uselessly around nothing, leaking more with every flutter. Within moments a small, glistening puddle had formed beneath you on the dark rock, catching the sunlight in a blatant, shiny evidence of your body’s betrayal.

You froze.

Heat flooded your face. You pressed your thighs together tightly, but the damage was already done. The puddle shimmered between your legs, unmistakable.

Sukuna noticed immediately.

He had been standing a few paces away, arms crossed, scanning the treeline out of habit. His gaze dropped to the rock beneath you. Four eyes narrowed, then darkened with recognition. The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile but something far more dangerous. He took one slow step closer, then another, until he loomed over you.

His voice came low, rough, and far too knowing.

“Look at that.”

He crouched, bringing himself eye level with the evidence. One large hand reached out, fingers hovering just above the glistening puddle without touching it.

“Still leaking for me, even out here in the sunlight. Your greedy little cunt doesn’t care where we are, does it?”

You couldn’t speak. Could only sit there burning with shame, the warm slick still slowly dripping from your swollen folds onto the rock while he watched every shameful drop with open, hungry fascination.

The lake sparkled innocently behind you.

The sun continued to shine.

But the ache between your thighs had just become impossible to ignore.

You stuttered the moment his words landed, voice cracking like thin ice.

“It is not… I did not mean…”

The denial died on your tongue. Heat crawled up your neck until your entire face burned. You swallowed once, twice, then forced the truth out in a trembling whisper.

“I have been… wetter there. Since that night. It will not stop.”

Sukuna’s smile widened, slow and wicked, four eyes gleaming with dark delight. He stayed crouched in front of you, one hand still hovering near the glistening puddle on the rock.

“Yes,” he drawled, voice low and teasing. “Why did you not tell me about that specifically earlier? I could have helped.”

You stared at him as though he had begun speaking in some ancient, forgotten tongue. Your mind refused to process the casual way he offered to fix the mess he had made between your thighs. The sheer audacity of it stole every thought from your head.

Tell him.

Tell the King of Curses that your pussy was a leaking, swollen, dripping mess because of him.

The words would not come. Humiliation crashed over you so violently that you twisted away, turning your back to him completely. Your shoulders hunched, arms wrapping tight around your middle as if you could hide the evidence of your body’s betrayal. Fresh tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. Your face felt scalding hot.

Behind you, Sukuna let out a soft, amused huff.

A big hand settled on your shoulder, warm and surprisingly gentle. The weight steadied you even as your heart hammered wildly. His fingers brushed upward, threading carefully through your hair, stroking slow and soothing from crown to nape.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he murmured, voice quieter now, almost tender. “Do not cry.”

You were mortified anyway. Tears slipped free despite his words, sliding down your flushed cheeks. Your swollen cunt continued to leak in slow, warm pulses, the slickness soaking through the thin fabric of your yukata and making the rock beneath you even wetter. Every tiny shift reminded you of the mess, of how your body refused to forget the way he had stretched and filled you.

Sukuna’s hand slid from your hair to cup your jaw, turning your face back toward him with careful insistence. His thumb brushed a tear away.

“Come on,” he said, the words rough but coaxing. “I can make it all better.”

He glanced around once, scanning the quiet lakeside until his gaze settled on a nice, soft patch of grass beneath a large pear tree. The branches hung heavy with white blossoms and early green fruit, casting dappled shade over the thick carpet of clover and soft earth. Sunlight filtered through the leaves in gentle golden patches. It looked peaceful. Private.

Without waiting for permission he scooped you up, four arms cradling you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. You gasped at the sudden movement, the ache between your thighs flaring sharply, another rush of slick escaping to smear warm and wet against his skin.

“Sukuna, what are you doing?” Your voice came out high and shaky. “Put me down!”

You had no idea what crazy idea had taken root in his head. Your heart hammered wildly as he carried you the short distance toward the pear tree. One of his upper hands came up to cup the back of your head, thumb stroking slow and soothing along your scalp.

“Do not make a fuss,” he said, low and calm, the words rumbling through his chest into yours.

Then you saw the tree.

He carried you beneath its wide, blossoming branches and lowered you carefully onto the soft grass. The ground was cool and yielding beneath your back, blades tickling your bare calves where the yukata had ridden up. Sukuna settled himself on the grass beside you, massive frame casting you in cool shadow. His big fingers brushed along your thigh, gentle but possessive, tracing the sensitive skin just below the hem of your robe.

You squirmed under his gaze, heat flooding every inch of you. He looked at you for a long moment, eyes dark and intent.

“You do trust me, right?”

The question caught you off guard. You nodded shyly, barely able to meet his eyes. The heat was unbearable now. Being held so close in his arms had stirred something deep and needy inside you. Whatever he was about to offer, your body already wanted it.

Sukuna knelt between your parted knees, his massive frame blocking out the sky. One of his lower hands rested on your thigh, thumb stroking slow, lazy circles over the tender flesh. His eyes never left your face.

“Lie back,” he told you, voice dropping into that low, commanding timbre that made your stomach flutter and your cunt clench. “Let me see how much of a leaking mess this pretty cunt has become for me.”

Your breath caught hard in your throat. Shame and desperate want twisted together so tightly you could barely breathe. But the gentle pressure of his hand, the patient way he waited, and the memory of how good his touch had felt even through the pain chipped away at your resistance until nothing remained.

Slowly, trembling all over, you leaned back onto the soft grass beneath the pear tree. Your cheeks still burned crimson. Tears still clung to your lashes.

Sukuna’s smile returned, darker this time, full of wicked promise.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Now open your legs for me. Let me take care of what belongs to me.”

You obeyed.

Your thighs parted wider on the grass, yukata pooling around your hips. The moment the cool air touched your exposed pussy a fresh gush of slick slipped free. Your cunt was soaked, puffy and glistening, inner lips swollen and shiny with the constant leak that had tormented you for days. Creamy strands of his earlier release mixed with your own arousal, making everything look obscenely wet and needy.

Sukuna’s eyes darkened further at the sight. He leaned in slowly, lowering his head between your spread thighs. His breath ghosted hot over your dripping folds.

“So needy,” he growled softly. “This cunt is dripping and aching so much. All this slick just for me.”

He spread you open with two thick fingers, parting your swollen lips so he could see every glistening inch. Then he gave you the first slow, broad lick from the bottom of your slit all the way up to your clit.

The moan that tore from your throat was loud and broken. His tongue was hot and rough, dragging through your creamy mess with deliberate hunger. He licked again, slower, savoring the taste of you mixed with the remnants of his own cum. A low, appreciative groan vibrated against your pussy.

“Relax,” he murmured against your folds, the word warm and wet. “All this mess… you should have told me sooner.”

He licked deeper, tongue pushing inside your fluttering entrance to scoop out more of the creamy slick. Your hips jerked involuntarily. Another moan spilled from you, high and helpless.

“How could you keep this from me?” he continued, voice rough with something close to anger, though his tongue never stopped its slow, thorough exploration. “I would have licked this pretty cunt the moment I knew it was leaking for me. Would have buried my face between your thighs and cleaned every drop until you stopped aching.”

He sucked gently on your swollen clit, then licked back down to push his tongue inside you again, fucking you with slow, wet strokes. Your hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling tight as pleasure crashed through the soreness. Your cunt fluttered and leaked even more onto his tongue, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet shade of the pear tree.

Sukuna growled against your pussy, clearly enjoying the taste, the mess, the way you trembled and moaned beneath his mouth.

“Never hide this from me again,” he ordered between long, hungry licks. “This cunt is mine. If it aches, if it leaks, if it needs to be eaten until you cry… you tell me.”

He sealed his mouth over you once more, sucking and licking with renewed intensity, determined to devour every drop of the slick, creamy mess he had created.

And beneath the pear tree, in the warm daylight, Sukuna feasted on your dripping cunt like a starving man who had finally been given exactly what he craved.

He was greedy for it.

Ryomen Sukuna lapped at your cunt with shameless hunger, broad tongue dragging slow and heavy through your soaked folds again and again. He could still taste himself from that night, the thick, musky flavor of his cum mixed with the sweet, slippery heat of your arousal. The combination made him groan low against your pussy, the sound vibrating straight through your swollen clit and deep into your core.

His large tongue tunneled inside you without mercy, thick and hot, working your tight walls open with every wet push. Your cunt fluttered desperately around the intrusion, trying to clench and pull him deeper at the same time. One of your hands flew to his hair, fingers clutching tight in the coarse strands as you unconsciously fed his tongue even deeper into your leaking heat.

Deeper.

Deeper.

His saliva mixed with your slick and the remnants of his earlier release, turning everything into a messy, creamy glide. He fucked his tongue into you in slow, deliberate strokes, curling the tip to press against that sensitive spot inside that made your thighs shake violently. Then he pulled back only to seal his lips around your fat, aching clit. He sucked hard, tongue flicking rapidly over the swollen bud while two of his fingers spread your pussy lips wider, exposing every dripping inch to the warm daylight filtering through the leaves.

The pleasure was overwhelming.

Patches of golden light sparked across your skin as the breeze moved the branches above, warm little spots dancing over your bare thighs and heaving chest. The grass beneath your back was soft and cool, blades tickling your spine every time your body arched. In the distance the lake lapped gently against the shore, a soft, rhythmic hush that blended with the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth devouring your cunt.

It all felt too surreal.

Too good.

You moaned loudly, the sound breaking into a whimper as he sucked your clit harder, tongue still thrusting deep inside you. Your hips rolled up against his face without shame now, chasing the relentless pleasure. Slick poured from you in fresh waves, coating his chin, his lips, dripping down to soak the grass beneath your ass. Every greedy lap of his tongue pushed more of his saliva into your fluttering hole, mixing everything into a warm, slippery mess that made your cunt feel even more open, even more sensitive.

Sukuna growled against your folds, the vibration sending sparks shooting up your spine.

“Look at you,” he rasped between long, filthy licks, voice thick with lust. “Soaking my tongue like a good girl. This cunt was made to be eaten. Made to leak for me.”

He spread you even wider with his fingers, thumbs pressing firmly on either side of your clit while his tongue drove back inside, fucking you deeper, harder, faster. Your hand tightened in his hair, nails scraping his scalp as your back bowed off the grass. The ache that had tormented you for days melted into liquid heat under his mouth. Every suck, every thrust of his tongue, every wet slurp dragged you closer to the edge.

The pear blossoms continued to drift down around you like soft white snow.

Golden sunlight danced across your trembling body.

The lake whispered in the background.

Sukuna was still buried face-first between your spread thighs, your cunt pulsed and leaked and fluttered around his greedy tongue while pleasure built higher and higher, threatening to drown you completely in the most surreal, overwhelming bliss you had ever known.

He was getting hard from your scent alone.

The sweet, musky smell of your dripping cunt filled his lungs with every greedy inhale, thick and heady, making both of his cocks twitch and swell heavy between his thighs. They hung thick and full, the fat heads already glistening with beads of precum that dripped slowly onto the soft grass beneath him. The more he tasted you, the harder they throbbed, veins standing out sharply along the thick shafts, the second cock brushing against the first with every slight shift of his hips. Yet Sukuna refused to touch himself. Not yet.

He wanted you to cum on his tongue first.

His large tongue kept tunneling deep inside your fluttering cunt, fucking in and out with wet, obscene strokes while his lips sealed tight around your swollen clit. He sucked harder, tongue curling and pressing against that sensitive spot inside you until your thighs trembled violently around his head. Your hand clutched desperately at his hair, fingers twisting tight as you fed him deeper, hips rolling up to meet every thrust of his mouth.

“Fuck… that’s it,” he growled against your soaked folds, voice muffled and rough. “Let me taste how much this greedy little cunt needs me.”

He spread you wider with two thick fingers, thumbs holding your puffy lips open so he could bury his face even deeper. His tongue plunged in again, long and hot, licking up every creamy drop of slick and leftover cum. He drank you down like he was starving, saliva mixing with your mess until everything was sloppy and shining. Then he pulled back just enough to suck your fat, aching clit into his mouth again, tongue flicking rapidly over the swollen bud while two fingers replaced his tongue inside you, curling hard against that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes.

Your moans grew louder, broken and desperate, echoing softly under the pear tree. The golden patches of sunlight danced across your arched body, highlighting the way your breasts heaved with every panting breath, the way your stomach tensed and quivered. The grass felt cool and soft against your back, blades sticking to your damp skin as you writhed beneath his relentless mouth.

Sukuna’s cocks leaked harder, thick strings of precum stretching from the tips to the ground, but he ignored them completely. His focus remained entirely on you, on the way your cunt clenched and fluttered around his fingers, on the sweet, slick taste flooding his tongue.

He sucked your clit harder, tongue lashing fast and firm, fingers thrusting deep and steady.

“Come on, doll,” he rasped against your pussy, voice dark and commanding. “Cum for me. Cum on my tongue like a good girl. Let me feel this pretty cunt squeeze and flood my mouth.”

Your whole body tightened, thighs clamping around his head, back bowing sharply off the grass. The pressure built unbearably fast, the wet sounds of his mouth and fingers filling the quiet air beneath the tree. The lake whispered in the distance, blossoms continued to drift down like gentle snow, but all you could feel was the hot, greedy pull of his lips and tongue dragging you right to the edge.

Sukuna groaned deeply, the vibration shooting straight through your clit as he sucked harder, fingers curling relentlessly inside you.

He was not going to stop until you came undone on his tongue.

He kept licking you with long, greedy strokes of his tongue, lapping deep into your fluttering cunt while one thick finger circled your swollen clit in slow, firm spirals. The dual sensation was relentless. His hot, wet tongue fucked into you in steady thrusts, curling and dragging along your inner walls, while that single finger pressed and rubbed your clit with perfect, merciless pressure.

Your legs shook violently.

Sukuna noticed. With a low growl he shoved your thighs wider apart, spreading you obscenely open on the soft grass. Two of his hands gripped the backs of your knees, pinning them down and outward so nothing could stop the building storm inside you. The position left your dripping pussy completely exposed to his hungry mouth and the warm daylight filtering through the leaves.

It built fast. Too fast.

A strange, overwhelming pressure coiled low in your belly, heavy and urgent, completely different from the orgasms he had already forced from you. Your cunt clenched hard around his thrusting tongue, walls fluttering wildly as slick poured out in thick, continuous streams. Your hips tried to twist away, but his grip held you firmly in place.

“No… Sukuna…” you gasped, voice high and broken. “It feels weird… feels like you’ll make a mess…”

He did not stop.

If anything, your desperate little plea only made him hungrier. He shoved his tongue deeper, fucking it into you harder, faster, while his finger rubbed tight, relentless circles over your clit. His saliva mixed with your slick, making everything wetter, sloppier, louder. The obscene squelching sounds of his mouth devouring your cunt filled the quiet shade beneath the pear tree.

“It is going to feel good,” he growled against your folds, the words vibrating straight through your oversensitive clit. “Let it happen. Do not fight it.”

You whimpered, head thrashing side to side on the grass. The pressure kept building, sharp and terrifying and impossibly intense. Your stomach tightened, thighs trembling uncontrollably in his iron grip. Every lick, every circle of his finger pushed you closer to something you had never felt before. Your pussy felt too full, too hot, too ready to burst.

“I… I’m gonna…” Your voice cracked into a sob. “It feels like I’m going to make a mess… Sukuna, please…”

He sucked hard on your clit, tongue still thrusting deep inside you, finger rubbing faster. His crimson eyes flicked up to watch your face, dark with lust and wicked satisfaction.

“Then make a mess for me, doll,” he rasped, voice rough and commanding. “Squirt all over my tongue. Flood my mouth like the needy little thing you are. I want every drop.”

The words pushed you over the edge.

The intense pressure suddenly snapped. Your entire body seized, back arching sharply off the grass as a broken, keening cry tore from your throat. Your cunt spasmed violently around his tongue, walls clamping down hard before releasing in powerful, rhythmic pulses. A hot, clear gush of fluid burst from you, squirting hard against his tongue and chin, soaking his face and dripping down onto the grass beneath you.

You kept squirting, wave after wave, unable to stop as he continued licking and sucking through it all, greedily drinking down every drop while his finger never stopped circling your throbbing clit. The orgasm crashed through you harder than anything you had ever felt, leaving you shaking and sobbing, pussy gushing messily all over his mouth and the soft ground.

Sukuna groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through your oversensitive folds as he lapped up every bit of your release, refusing to pull away even as you trembled and whimpered beneath him.

Now you were ready.

Your body had gone completely limp on the soft grass, every muscle loose and trembling in the aftermath of that shattering release. Sukuna could feel how thoroughly he had wrung you out. Your cunt still fluttered weakly, puffy and glistening, but the desperate, aching need had finally eased into a deep, hazy satisfaction. He pressed one last slow, reverent kiss to your swollen pussy, lips brushing tenderly over the oversensitive folds. His tongue gave a few final, gentle laps, licking up the last of your slick with lazy indulgence, savoring every creamy drop. His chin was shiny and wet, glistening with your release and his own saliva.

He eased your trembling legs down carefully, letting them rest on the cool grass instead of holding them pinned wide. Then he shifted, stretching his massive frame out beside you on the soft ground. One of his lower arms slid beneath your shoulders, pulling you close until your face tucked into the warm curve of his neck. His skin smelled of smoke and salt and something darker, masculine, grounding. The other three arms settled around you, one hand gently threading through your hair, stroking slow, soothing pets from crown to nape. His fingers were careful, almost tender, as they combed through the strands damp with sweat and grass.

You felt weightless.

The warm sunlight filtered through the pear leaves above, painting shifting golden patterns across your skin. The faint sound of the lake lapping at the shore blended with the soft rustle of blossoms drifting down. Your body melted against his, boneless and heavy with exhaustion and pleasure. You could feel how hard he still was. Both thick cocks pressed hot and heavy against your thigh, leaking steadily, the blunt heads smearing warm precum across your skin with every subtle shift. Yet he made no move to take you. He simply held you close, petting your hair in slow, rhythmic strokes while his chest rose and fell steadily beneath your cheek.

You closed your eyes.

The world narrowed to the warmth of his body, the gentle drag of his fingers through your hair, the heavy, comforting weight of his arms wrapped around you. For the first time since he had stolen you from the temple, the ache between your thighs felt soothed rather than tormenting. Shame still lingered somewhere distant, but it could not reach you here, not while he held you like this.

Sukuna’s voice rumbled low against your ear, rough but quiet, laced with quiet satisfaction.

“See?” he murmured, lips brushing the top of your head. “Didn’t I help?”

You did not answer with words. You simply pressed your face deeper into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, letting the steady beat of his heart lull you further into the soft, floating haze. His hand continued its slow, comforting strokes through your hair. His cocks remained hard and leaking against your thigh, patient for now.

Beneath the pear tree, in the warm daylight and drifting blossoms, Sukuna held his stolen faithful close, content to let you rest against him while the evidence of your messy release dried on his chin and the grass beneath you both.

You fell asleep on the way back, cradled securely in his arms.

The walk from the lakeside to the fortress was not long, but the warm afternoon sun, the soft sway of his steps, and the deep exhaustion that had settled into your bones after everything beneath the pear tree pulled you under almost immediately. Your cheek rested against the broad plane of his chest, one hand loosely curled into the fabric of his robe. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the faint heat rolling off his skin lulled you deeper into sleep, safe and heavy in his hold.

Sukuna carried you without effort, two arms supporting your body while the other two remained free. In one of those free hands he held a small cluster of ripe pears he had plucked from the tree before leaving. Their smooth, golden-green skins caught the light as he walked, stems still bearing a few delicate white blossoms. He did not eat them. He simply carried them, turning one slowly between his fingers every so often, as though the simple act of holding something soft and sweet pleased him.

The fortress loomed ahead, stone walls dark against the bright sky. Servants scattered at the sight of their lord returning with the sleeping girl tucked against his chest, but no one dared speak. Uraume stood waiting at the entrance, pale eyes flicking once over your relaxed form and the pears before offering a small, knowing bow and stepping aside without a word.

Sukuna moved through the familiar corridors in silence, careful not to jostle you. When he reached the chamber he lowered you gently onto the wide mat, arranging your limbs with surprising care so you lay on your side, facing inward. The yukata had slipped slightly during the journey, baring one shoulder and the soft curve of your breast, but he did not adjust it. Instead he set the cluster of pears on the low table beside the mat, their faint sweet scent already beginning to fill the room.

He stretched out beside you, close enough that the heat of his body wrapped around yours once more. One arm draped possessively over your waist, palm settling lightly over the lingering softness of your lower belly. The other three hands found their places, one beneath his own head, the others resting near enough to touch if he wished.

You remained asleep, breathing slow and even, lashes dark against your cheeks, lips slightly parted. The faint marks of grass and blossoms still clung to your hair. A small smear of dried slick still glistened on the inside of one thigh, a quiet reminder of how thoroughly he had taken care of you by the lake.

Sukuna watched you for a long time in the quiet of the chamber.

He did not wake you.

He simply lay there, the stolen pears resting nearby, their sweetness mixing with the heavier scent of sex and skin that still clung to both of you. One of his fingers idly traced the curve of your shoulder while his mind turned over the strange, unfamiliar feeling of carrying something fragile and warm back to his den instead of leaving it broken behind him.

Outside the narrow windows the daylight slowly began to soften into evening.

Inside, the King of Curses kept his faithful close, pears and all, letting you sleep undisturbed in the circle of his arms.

You woke up dazed, the world soft and hazy around the edges.

For a long moment you could not remember the walk back. The lake, the pear tree, the overwhelming rush of pleasure beneath its branches, all of it felt like a fever dream that had slipped between your fingers. Your body was still coming down from the high, heavy and languid, every limb weighted with sweet exhaustion. A faint fever lingered beneath your skin, a warm flush that made your cheeks glow and your breathing slow and shallow. Between your thighs your pussy still throbbed gently, swollen and tender, the constant low ache now mixed with a deep, satisfied warmth that refused to fade.

The chamber was quiet, lit by the golden haze of late afternoon light slipping through the narrow windows. The faint sweet scent of ripe pear filled the air.

Sukuna was already awake, propped on one elbow beside you. In two of his hands he held the cluster of pears he had carried back. With the third he used the small, curved tanto to slice one open with precise, unhurried movements. The same blade you had once pressed trembling to his throat now moved steadily through the soft fruit, juice glistening along the edge as he cut neat, crescent-shaped slices.

He noticed the moment your eyes opened.

Without a word he brought a fresh slice to your lips, holding it between two thick fingers. The sweet, juicy flesh brushed against your lower lip, cool and sticky.

You stared at the knife for a heartbeat, then at the slice, then up at his face. A slow roll of your eyes was the only protest you could manage in your dazed state. Still, your mouth opened obediently. You took the piece of pear from his fingers, lips closing around the pads of his fingertips for a brief, intimate second as you accepted the offering. The fruit was perfectly ripe, bursting with cool sweetness that soothed your dry throat and made your fever-flushed cheeks feel a little less warm.

Sukuna watched you chew with dark, half-lidded eyes, the corner of his mouth curving in quiet satisfaction. He cut another slice, juice dripping slowly down the blade, and brought it to your mouth again. This time you did not roll your eyes. You simply parted your lips and let him feed you, the sticky sweetness coating your tongue while his fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary.

He fed you piece after piece in silence, the ironies of the moment hanging thick between you. The same knife that had once promised death now delivered something gentle and sweet. The monster who had stolen you from your temple now sat patiently slicing fruit and pressing each slice to your lips with careful fingers. Your body still hummed with the memory of his tongue between your thighs, yet here you were, drowsy and fever-warm, accepting every offering like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When the pear was nearly gone he set the core aside and wiped his fingers on the edge of the cloth nearby. One large hand returned to your hair, stroking slowly through the strands while another rested possessively over the soft swell of your lower belly.

“Better?” he asked, voice low and rough, but quieter than usual.

You swallowed the last sweet bite, the fever making your thoughts slow and heavy. Instead of answering with words you simply turned your face into his palm, pressing a small, tired kiss to the center of it.

Sukuna’s eyes darkened further at the gesture. He did not speak again. He only continued to pet your hair in slow, steady strokes, letting you drift in the warm, hazy space between sleep and waking while the faint scent of pear and the lingering taste of sweetness stayed on your tongue.

The blade lay forgotten on the low table beside the empty core, its edge still faintly sticky with juice.

And in the quiet chamber, he kept feeding his stolen girl small, sweet pieces of fruit, watching every flutter of your lashes with something dangerously close to tenderness.

Later that evening the air in the fortress had grown cooler, the faint scent of cedar smoke drifting through the corridors as braziers were lit for the night.

Sukuna had risen from the mat without a word, shedding his outer robes as he moved toward the private bathing chamber attached to the main room. You watched him from beneath half-closed lashes, still drowsy and warm from the pear and the long rest. Then you noticed.

His two thick cocks were fully hard, heavy and flushed dark, the fat heads glistening with steady beads of precum that dripped in slow, shiny trails down the veined lengths. They bobbed slightly with each step he took, leaking openly, untouched since the lake. He had given you everything beneath the pear tree and taken nothing for himself.

Something hot and liquid stirred low in your belly.

You crept after him on silent feet, heart hammering, the fever still lingering in your cheeks. The ache between your thighs had returned, softer now but insistent, your pussy growing slick and warm again at the mere sight of him. When he stepped into the bathing chamber you followed, hovering just outside the doorway, hidden in shadow.

He stood beside the large wooden tub already filled with steaming water. One of his lower hands reached down, wrapping loosely around both cocks at the base. He gave a slow, firm stroke from root to tip, smearing the leaking precum over the heads with his thumb. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he palmed himself, thick fingers barely able to circle both shafts together. The motion was lazy, almost absent, like he was simply easing an ache rather than truly seeking release.

Your breath caught.

He looked beautiful like this, massive frame backlit by the flickering lanterns, tattoos stark against scarlet skin, four arms moving with powerful grace. And those two leaking cocks… heavy, dripping, untouched because he had spent the entire afternoon taking care of you instead.

Your pussy clenched hard, fresh slick coating your folds and beginning to trickle down your inner thigh. Shame and desire twisted together until you could no longer stay still.

You slipped out of your yukata without a sound, letting the silk pool at your feet until you stood completely naked. Cool air kissed your fever-warm skin, making your nipples tighten and your swollen cunt throb. Heart racing, you stepped forward and pushed the sliding door wider, the soft wooden sound announcing your presence.

Sukuna turned his head slowly.

Four crimson eyes locked onto you immediately, taking in every inch of your bare body, the way your thighs pressed together, the faint sheen of wetness already visible on your skin. His hand stilled on his cocks, still gripping both thick lengths, the heads flushed and glistening.

For a long moment neither of you spoke.

Then his voice came low and rough, laced with dark hunger and something almost surprised.

“Look at you,” he murmured, gaze dragging slowly down to the slick glistening between your legs. “Coming to me naked and wet again. Did watching me stroke myself make that greedy little pussy leak for me?”

You stood there in the doorway, completely exposed, chest rising and falling quickly, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. Your eyes kept flicking down to where his hand still held those two heavy, leaking cocks, precum still dripping steadily from the tips.

Sukuna’s lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. He gave himself one more lazy stroke, eyes never leaving yours.

“Well?” he asked, voice dropping even lower. “Are you just going to stand there… or are you going to come here and help me with this?”

Steam rose from the bath behind him.

Lantern light flickered across his skin...

You stepped inside.

Shy, but eager.

Your bare feet padded across the warm stone floor until you stood right in front of him. Sukuna’s four arms opened for you without hesitation, the gesture surprisingly gentle. He reached down, large hands sliding beneath your thighs, and lifted you effortlessly into the air. The moment your body left the ground you felt weightless again, cradled against his broad chest as he stepped into the large wooden tub with you.

The water was warm, almost hot, fragrant with yuzu and something faintly herbal that Uraume must have added. Steam curled up around you both as he lowered himself slowly, settling against the back of the tub and pulling you with him. He pressed you flush to his front first, your soft breasts squishing against the hard planes of his chest, your legs automatically parting to straddle his hips. The heat of the bath seeped into your skin, soothing the lingering ache between your thighs even as fresh slick continued to gather.

He leaned in and kissed your cheek, slow and surprisingly sweet, lips lingering against the flushed skin. The contrast between that tenderness and the heavy, leaking cocks trapped between your bodies made your head spin.

You settled fully against him, thighs spread wide over his lap. The sight of the large, grinning mouth on his stomach made your breath hitch. The moment your belly pressed against it, the thick pink tongue flicked out, dragging a wet, playful stripe across your soft skin. It curled lazily, tasting the faint sheen of sweat and the sweetness still clinging to you from the pear. One of Sukuna’s big hands settled on your lower back, holding you close while his thumb stroked slow circles over your spine.

He teased you then, voice low and rough against your ear.

“Your eager little pussy is still greedy for more, hm?”

You looked up at him with wide, glassy eyes, heat flooding your face. You could not hold his gaze. Your eyes dropped instead, lashes fluttering as you watched your own finger trace the seam of the stomach mouth. The moment your fingertip brushed the soft lips, the large tongue flicked out again, wrapping playfully around your finger and sucking gently before letting go with a wet pop.

You swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper.

“I… I shouldn’t have all the pleasure.”

The guilt was quiet but real. He had taken nothing for himself earlier, only given and given until you shattered on his tongue. The thought made your chest tight.

Sukuna stilled for a moment, studying your downcast face. Then understanding softened the edge of his smirk.

“Guess we really should stop keeping secrets from each other then,” he murmured.

He tilted your chin up with one gentle finger, forcing your eyes to meet his again. Before you could look away he leaned in and kissed you, slow and deep and thorough. His tongue slid against yours, tasting of pear and your own slick, claiming your mouth with the same lazy hunger he had shown between your thighs.

You melted into the kiss, arms winding around his neck as you settled fully against him. His two thick cocks pressed hot and slick between your bodies, trapped against your soft belly and the dripping seam of your cunt. They throbbed heavily with every beat of his heart, leaking steadily, the precum mixing with the bathwater and your own fresh arousal until everything felt slippery and warm.

His stomach mouth continued to lick lazily at your skin, tongue dragging slow stripes across your abdomen while his hand on your back kept you pressed close. The other three arms held you securely, one cradling the back of your head, another resting possessively on your hip, the last stroking gently along your thigh.

He broke the kiss just enough to speak against your lips, voice dark and rough with want.

“No more secrets tonight, little one. Tell me what you want… and I will give it to you.”

The steam rose thick around you both.

The fragrant water lapped gently at your joined bodies.

And in the warm bath, straddling him, his leaking cocks pressed slick against your greedy pussy, you felt the last fragile wall between you begin to crumble.

“Please…”

The word slipped from your lips, soft and trembling against his own. “Need you.”

Sukuna’s mouth curved into a slow, wicked smile against yours. He did not answer with words at first. Instead one of his lower hands slid down between your bodies, gripping the thicker of his two leaking cocks at the base. He dragged the fat, precum-slick head slowly through your folds, teasing the blunt tip up and down your dripping slit. The heat of him was searing, the sheer size of just one cock already making your pussy flutter in anticipation and nerves.

Your slick coated him instantly, mixing with the steady leak of his precum until the glide became obscenely wet. Every slow pass nudged against your swollen clit, then dipped lower to kiss your entrance, spreading your puffy lips around the wide head before pulling back again. The teasing made your thighs tremble on either side of his hips.

He kissed you once more, slow and deep, then pulled back just enough to speak against your mouth, voice low and rough with hunger.

“Let’s just start with one tonight then,” he murmured. “Let’s see how good you’ll stretch for me.”

He lined the thick head up with your entrance and began to push.

The stretch was immediate and overwhelming. Even after everything he had done to you earlier, your cunt still had to open wide around the fat crown. A broken whimper escaped you as the head popped inside, your walls fluttering desperately around the intrusion. He was so thick, so hot, the veins along his shaft dragging against your sensitive inner walls as he slowly fed you the first few inches.

Sukuna groaned low in his chest, the sound vibrating through both of you.

“Fuck… still so tight,” he rasped, one hand gripping your hip to hold you steady while the other kept guiding his cock deeper. “Look at this greedy little pussy swallowing me up. Taking it so well already.”

He rocked his hips in shallow thrusts, working himself in inch by inch, letting your body adjust to the brutal girth. Your slick and his precum made the slide easier, but the stretch still burned sweetly, forcing your cunt to mould around every thick ridge. When he was halfway buried he paused, letting you feel the heavy throb of him inside you, the way your belly already began to bulge faintly from just one cock.

His stomach mouth licked a slow, wet stripe across your abdomen, tongue flicking playfully over the small swell as if tasting the place he was claiming from within.

You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into scarlet skin, forehead pressed to his as you panted against his lips. The water lapped gently around your joined bodies, steam curling thick in the air.

Sukuna’s eyes stayed locked on your face, watching every flutter of your lashes, every little gasp.

“That’s it,” he whispered, voice dark and coaxing. “Take all of me tonight. Let me feel how deep this pretty cunt can take one cock before I decide whether you’re ready for both.”

He rolled his hips again, sinking another thick inch inside you, stretching you open with slow, deliberate patience while the bathwater rippled around you both.

And in the fragrant steam, you gave yourself to him once more, soft pleas and broken moans spilling from your lips as the King of Curses began to fill you all over again.

You felt him immediately.

The thick head pushed past your entrance and the stretch bloomed all over again, sharp and sweet and overwhelming. Your cunt had to open wide once more, soft walls yielding around the heavy girth as he sank deeper. Every slow inch forced your body to remember him, to take his exact shape again until the blunt head kissed high inside you and the thick veins dragged along every sensitive spot. Your belly swelled faintly beneath the water, the faint outline of his cock visible just under your skin.

Sukuna let out a low, satisfied groan, eyes half-lidded as he watched your face.

“Looks like your cunt didn’t forget me after all,” he murmured, voice rough and pleased. “Still so tight… still sucking me in like it missed being full.”

Your hands pressed flat against his broad chest, fingers splaying over the dark tattoos as you tried to steady yourself. The water lapped gently around your hips with every tiny movement. He kept one large hand on your lower back, holding you close, while the other guided your hips down to meet his slow upward thrusts.

He fucked up into you with unhurried strokes, deep and deliberate, letting you feel every thick inch slide out until only the fat head remained inside, then pressing back in until he bottomed out again. Each thrust made your breasts bounce softly against his chest and sent ripples across the fragrant bathwater.

You were trembling.

The stretch felt so good it bordered on too much, but your body craved more. The empty ache where his second cock should be became impossible to ignore. Your pussy clenched hard around the one already buried inside you, leaking fresh slick around his shaft as the need built higher.

“Please…” you whispered, voice small and breathless against his neck. “The second one… I want both…”

Sukuna stilled for a moment, buried to the hilt. Then a dark, amused chuckle rumbled through his chest.

“Fuck… you’re eager,” he said, the words warm against your ear. One of his hands slid up to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. “Already begging for both after I’ve barely given you one. Greedy little thing.”

He rocked up into you again, slower this time, grinding the thick head against that deep spot inside while the second heavy cock rested hot and leaking against your lower belly, trapped between your bodies.

“You sure?” he asked, voice dropping even lower, teasing but edged with hunger. “You want me to stretch this pretty cunt even wider tonight? Fill you so full you can barely breathe?”

You nodded frantically, cheeks burning, eyes glassy with need. Your hips rolled down to meet his next thrust, taking him deeper as you whimpered.

“Yes… please… both…”

Sukuna’s smile turned sharp and satisfied. He tightened his grip on your hips with two hands while the other two cradled your face and back, holding you steady as he began to shift beneath you.

“Alright then,” he growled softly, pressing a slow kiss to your swollen lips. “Since you’re asking so nicely… let’s see how well this tight little pussy takes both my cocks tonight.”

He kept the first one buried deep inside you, holding still for a moment while the fat, leaking head of the second cock nudged insistently against your already stretched entrance, sliding through the mess of your slick and his precum.

The water steamed around you both.

Your hands clutched tighter at his chest.

He worked the second cock in slowly.

The thick, leaking head pressed firmly against your already stretched entrance, nudging beside the first one that was buried deep inside you. The stretch was immediate and brutal. Your cunt had to open wider than it ever had, soft walls straining around two heavy girths at once. You clenched up instinctively, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat as the second cock forced its way in inch by slow, relentless inch.

“Oh fuck—”

The curse slipped out before you could stop it, raw and broken. The temple girl who once spent her days murmuring sutras had never spoken such a word in her life. Sukuna’s eyes flashed with dark delight at the sound.

“Oh?” he teased, voice low and rough even as he fought to keep his composure. “The temple girl’s first swear. Committing so many sins tonight, aren’t you?”

Your cunt was impossibly tight around both cocks, fluttering and squeezing in panicked little pulses that made sweat bead along his temples. He could feel every ripple, every desperate clench as your body struggled to accept him. It hurt for you too. The burn was fierce, stretching you to your limit, tears already gathering at the corners of your eyes and spilling down your flushed cheeks.

Sukuna kept one big hand stroking slowly up and down your back, never stopping the gentle, soothing motion. His palm was warm and steady against your spine, thumb tracing comforting circles while he held perfectly still inside you, giving your body time to adjust.

“No, pretty girl,” he murmured, voice gentler now, lips brushing your temple. “Relax for me. Breathe.”

You whimpered, forehead pressed to his shoulder, nails digging into his chest. The stretch felt like too much and not enough all at once. Both cocks throbbed heavily inside your overstuffed cunt, leaking steadily, the dual pressure making your belly bulge noticeably even through the bathwater.

“You said you wanted both,” he reminded you softly, pressing a slow kiss to your wet cheek. “Don’t fight me, sweetheart. Let me in. Let this greedy little cunt take everything I give it.”

His hand kept stroking your back in that same soothing rhythm, slow and patient, while the other three arms held you close, one cradling the back of your head, another gripping your hip to keep you steady. He rocked up into you with the tiniest movements, just enough to ease the second cock deeper, letting your walls flutter and slowly loosen around the impossible fullness.

Tears kept slipping down your face, but the pain was already beginning to melt into something hotter, something deeper. Your cunt clenched again, this time less in resistance and more in desperate need.

Sukuna groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours.

“That’s it,” he whispered against your ear, still stroking your back with steady reassurance. “Good girl. Just relax and let me fill you completely. You’re doing so well for me.”

Both thick cocks pulsed inside your stretched, dripping cunt as he waited for you to open up fully, the warm bathwater rippling gently around your joined bodies while he coaxed you through the overwhelming stretch with patience and dark, hungry praise.

Your cunt kept stretching.

It hurt, it burned, it felt impossible, but it took him.

More and more. Inch by thick, veined inch, both of his heavy cocks sank deeper into your fluttering heat until the stretch became something else entirely. Something overwhelming and perfect. Your walls yielded slowly, clenching and fluttering around the brutal double invasion, molding themselves around his shape like they had been waiting for this exact moment.

The way your tummy bulged was obscene.

You could feel it, see it, the soft skin of your lower belly rounding outward, the clear outline of both cocks pressing up from inside you. Every shallow breath made the swell shift and move. Deeper and deeper he pushed, until the fat heads nudged against your cervix and then beyond, forcing the tight ring to open for him, letting him claim space no one had ever touched.

Your eyes slid shut, lashes wet with fresh tears. A broken little sound escaped your trembling lips.

Sukuna cupped your face in two large hands, thumbs brushing away the tears as they fell. He pressed his forehead to yours, breath mingling with yours in the steamy air.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice rough and awed. “Taking both my cocks so deep. Your pretty cunt is opening so well for me.”

He kissed your tears one by one, slow and tender, lips brushing over your closed eyelids, the corners of your eyes, the salty trails on your cheeks. When he finally reached your mouth he kissed you deeply, swallowing the soft whimper that left you as your cunt gave one last fluttering pulse and took the rest of him.

He was fully seated.

Both thick cocks buried to the hilt inside your overstuffed pussy, stretching you wider than you had ever been, your belly swollen and round with the proof of it. Your walls clenched helplessly around him, rippling and squeezing in waves, trying to adjust to the impossible fullness.

Sukuna held perfectly still, forehead still pressed to yours, hands cradling your face like something precious.

“There you go,” he murmured against your lips, voice low and soothing. “That’s my good girl. You did it. You took all of me.”

Your lips trembled. Another tear slipped free and he caught it with his thumb, then leaned in to kiss it away again.

The bathwater lapped gently around your joined bodies. Steam curled thick and fragrant between you. Your hands stayed pressed to his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath your palms.

He stayed buried deep, letting you feel every throb, every pulse of both cocks stretching you open, while he continued to kiss your face softly, patiently, giving your ruined little cunt time to settle around the overwhelming fullness he had given you.

“You feel that?” he whispered, one hand sliding down to rest over the swollen curve of your belly. “That’s me. All the way inside you. No more secrets. No more holding back.”

Your cunt fluttered hard around him at his words, another rush of slick leaking out around the tight seal of your stretched lips.

Sukuna smiled against your mouth, dark and satisfied.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “Now breathe for me… and let me feel how well this greedy cunt is going to take everything I give it tonight.”

Your cunt was sucking and pulling at both of his cocks with every tiny movement.

The slightest shift of his hips made your walls flutter and clench desperately around the thick double intrusion, greedy and overwhelmed all at once. Any little motion sent sparks of too-much pleasure shooting through you. The stretch was constant, burning and perfect, your swollen folds stretched shiny and tight around the bases of both cocks. Your belly bulged obscenely, the rounded swell rising and falling with every shallow breath you took.

Sukuna watched your face with dark, hooded eyes, one hand still cradling your cheek while the other rested possessively over the swollen curve of your stomach.

“You’ve already done the impossible,” he murmured, voice low and rough with restraint. “Taking both my cocks all the way inside this tight little cunt. Such a good girl.”

He could feel every ripple, every helpless suck of your walls trying to milk him. But he insisted on doing the work now.

“You’ve done enough,” he told you softly. “Just let me take care of you.”

When he asked if you wanted him to move, you could only nod, lips trembling, eyes glassy with overwhelming sensation.

That was all the permission he needed.

Sukuna lifted you sweetly with two strong arms beneath your thighs, raising you just enough that several thick inches of both cocks slid out of your dripping heat. The drag was slow and devastating, your cunt clinging wetly to every veined inch as he withdrew. Then he rocked you back down, sinking both cocks deep again in one smooth, controlled motion.

A broken moan tore from your throat.

He set a slow, steady rhythm, lifting and lowering you on his lap with careful strength. Each time he pulled you up, your cunt fluttered and sucked around him, trying to keep him inside. Each time he rocked you back down, both cocks plunged deep, bumping your cervix and pressing against that spot that made your toes curl in the warm water.

The bath rippled around you with every gentle rock, fragrant steam curling thicker in the air. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into scarlet skin as he fucked you on his cocks with slow, deliberate strokes.

“That’s it,” he praised quietly, forehead still pressed to yours. “Just let me move you. Feel how deep you’re taking me, sweetheart. Feel how full you are.”

Your belly bulged visibly with every downward rock, the obscene swell pressing against his stomach mouth. The large pink tongue flicked out lazily, licking across the rounded curve as if tasting how thoroughly he had stuffed you.

You whimpered helplessly, eyes fluttering, tears still clinging to your lashes. Every rock sent waves of overwhelming pleasure crashing through you. Your cunt kept sucking and pulling at both thick cocks, greedy despite how impossibly full you already were.

Sukuna kept rocking you sweetly on his lap, never rushing, letting you feel every inch, every throb, every slow slide as he filled you completely again and again.

His voice stayed low and soothing against your ear between soft kisses to your temple.

“Good girl… such a good girl for me. Just keep taking it. Let me rock this pretty, stretched cunt on both until you can’t think of anything else.”

The water lapped gently around your joined bodies.

Your swollen belly rose and fell with every controlled thrust.

And in the warm, steamy bath, you were held close and rocked slowly on both of his thick cocks, letting your greedy, ruined little pussy suck and flutter around him while he took perfect care of you.

Huge.

That was all you could think as Sukuna rocked you on both of his thick lengths.

Your pussy stretched impossibly wide around the twin girths, soft walls squishing and clinging, milking him in messy, greedy pulses with every slow lift and drop. Wet, filthy sounds filled the steamy bath each time he moved you, slick and precum mixing together until everything between your bodies was slippery and obscene.

He pressed one large hand firmly against the swollen bulge under your tummy, feeling the way both cocks moved inside you, the heavy ridge of them shifting beneath your skin with every rock. The pressure made you whimper, made your cunt flutter harder around him, sucking desperately at the thick lengths as if trying to pull him even deeper.

One of his lower hands settled on your waist, holding you steady while he began to fuck up into you with more purpose. The thrusts stayed controlled but deeper now, lifting his hips to meet every downward rock, driving both cocks into your overstuffed cunt with wet, heavy strokes. Your belly bulged more noticeably with each upward thrust, the rounded swell pressing against his palm.

His other lower hand slipped lower, palming the soft curve of your ass, fingers digging into the flesh to spread you open even wider. He used the grip to help guide you, lifting and lowering you onto his cocks while he fucked up harder, the head of both lengths kissing your cervix with every deep plunge.

You were a trembling, moaning mess in his lap, forehead pressed to his, lips parted on broken little sounds. Your pussy kept milking him greedily, fluttering and clenching, leaking fresh slick around the tight seal of your stretched folds. The water sloshed gently around you both with every thrust, fragrant steam curling thick in the air.

Sukuna groaned low in his chest, the sound vibrating through you as he pressed harder against the bulge in your belly.

“Feel that?” he rasped against your mouth, voice dark and rough. “Feel how deep both are? Your greedy little cunt is sucking me in so messily… taking me so deep like it never wants to let go.”

His hand on your ass squeezed tighter, spreading you wider as he fucked up into you with slow, powerful strokes. The other hand stayed pressed to your swollen tummy, feeling every movement of his cocks inside you while he rocked you on his lap.

You could only moan helplessly, eyes glassy, body trembling as he took you apart so sweetly and thoroughly in the warm bath. Your pussy continued to milk him in wet, greedy pulses, stretched and full and completely his.

Sukuna kissed your trembling lips, then your tear-damp cheek, never stopping the slow, deep rhythm of his hips.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, palming your ass and pressing against your bulging belly at the same time. “Keep  me in just like that. Let me feel how much this pretty cunt loves being stuffed full.”

Every slow rock of his hips made both thick cocks rub deep inside your pussy, dragging heavily along your fluttering walls in a constant, filthy grind. Your swollen clit caught and rubbed against the dark, coarse hair of his happy trail with every downward motion, sending sharp sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The friction was relentless, perfect, turning every thrust into something overwhelming.

You were creaming on his cocks.

Thick, white rings of your arousal coated both shafts, frothing messily at the stretched entrance of your cunt with every deep plunge. The wet, squelching sounds grew louder, echoing softly off the stone walls of the bathing chamber as your pussy milked him greedily, sucking and fluttering around the double intrusion.

Sukuna groaned low, one hand still pressed firmly to the bulging swell of your tummy while the other palmed your ass, spreading you wider so he could fuck up into you just a little harder. His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow, firm circles over the swollen bud while he kept rocking you on his cocks.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your ear, voice dark and coaxing. “Make a mess all over both my cocks like a good girl. Let me feel how much you want it, how much you pretty pussy will take.”

The added pressure on your clit was too much. Pleasure coiled tight and hot in your belly, sharper and sweeter than before. Your thighs trembled violently around his hips, your cunt clenching hard around both cocks as the orgasm crashed through you.

You moaned, high and broken, body seizing in his lap as sweet, pulsing waves rolled through you. Your pussy gushed around him, fresh slick mixing with the creamy mess already coating his shafts. Sukuna kept rubbing your clit through it all, drawing the orgasm out until your vision blurred and your moans turned into soft, helpless whimpers.

When the peak finally began to ebb you collapsed forward into his chest, face buried in the crook of his neck, trembling and panting against his skin. Your arms wound weakly around his shoulders, body limp and spent in his hold.

Sukuna did not stop moving.

He kept fucking you deeper now, hips snapping up with more force, driving both cocks into your creaming, fluttering cunt with steady, powerful thrusts. The water sloshed harder around you, splashing against the sides of the tub as he used the grip on your ass and waist to pull you down onto him again and again.

His breathing grew rougher, chest rising and falling heavily beneath your cheek. You could feel his cocks swelling even thicker inside you, throbbing with his building release.

He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your temple, voice wrecked and low.

“Fuck that's it! He said sharply.“Good girl… such a good girl for me… let me give you every drop, let me fill your cunt full.”

His thrusts grew deeper, harder, chasing his own pleasure while he held your limp, trembling body close, fucking up into your messy, overstuffed cunt with raw, building need. Your pussy continued to milk him greedily, squirting and fluttering around him as he drove closer and closer to the edge, determined to flood you full once more.

His cocks throbbed with heavy, insistent pressure deep in his abdomen.

The stomach mouth on his torso had its jaw locked tight, lips pressed into a thin line as if even that part of him was fighting to hold back. Both thick lengths swelled impossibly larger inside your already overstuffed cunt, stretching you even wider, the veins pulsing strongly against your fluttering walls. The first cock twitched hard, swelling thicker at the base, the fat head pressing flush against your cervix.

Sukuna’s breath hitched, a low growl rumbling through his chest as he fucked up into you with deeper, more urgent strokes. His hands gripped your ass tighter, spreading you open while he drove both cocks as far as they could go.

Then the first one came.

Hard.

Thick ropes of hot cum erupted straight into your womb, flooding you in heavy, pulsing spurts. The force of it made your belly swell even more, the rounded bulge growing visibly as he pumped you full. Your cunt clenched violently around him, milking every drop while creamy white seed leaked out around the tight seal of your stretched lips, mixing with your own slick in the bathwater.

Before the first cock even finished pulsing, the second one followed.

It swelled even thicker, stretching you to the absolute limit as it began to cum deep inside you. Another powerful flood joined the first, hot and endless, filling your womb until you felt impossibly bloated, stuffed beyond reason. Both cocks throbbed in tandem now, pumping load after thick load into your greedy, creaming cunt while your walls fluttered and sucked desperately around them.

You moaned weakly against his neck, body trembling, tears slipping down your cheeks again from the sheer intensity of being filled so completely. Your belly rounded out heavily between your bodies, the soft skin taut from the sheer volume of cum he was forcing into you.

Sukuna held you close, one hand still pressed firmly over the swollen curve of your tummy, feeling every powerful spurt as it filled you. His forehead rested against yours, breath ragged, voice rough and wrecked with pleasure.

“Take it all,” he growled softly, still rocking you slowly on his cocks even as he came. “Every drop. Let me fill this pretty cunt until you’re dripping with me for days.”

His stomach mouth finally relaxed, the large tongue slipping out to lick lazily across your bulging belly, tasting the evidence of how thoroughly he had claimed you from the inside.

You stayed collapsed against his chest, limp and shaking, your pussy still milking both throbbing cocks as they continued to empty into you, flooding your womb with thick, hot cum while the warm bathwater rippled around your joined bodies.

Sukuna kissed your temple, then your tear-streaked cheek, murmuring low praises against your skin as he kept you impaled deep on both of his cocks, letting the last heavy spurts pulse into your overstuffed, creaming cunt.

You had never felt so full.

So claimed.

So completely his.

Twin loads poured into you, thick and heavy, flooding your womb in endless, pulsing waves.

Sukuna kept fucking them deeper, hips rolling up in slow, deliberate thrusts even as he came, pushing every thick spurt further inside you. The obscene wet sounds of his cocks churning through the mess echoed in the steamy bath, cum and slick mixing together until your overstuffed cunt could barely contain it all. Creamy white seed leaked out around the tight stretch of both shafts, floating in cloudy ribbons through the water, but he refused to let any of it escape without effort. He rocked you down harder, grinding both cocks as deep as they would go, forcing the heavy loads back into your womb with every thrust.

He was sure it would take.

So much cum. More than your body had any right to hold. Your belly was already swollen and round, taut beneath his palm, and still he kept pumping more into you. He imagined it so clearly, his eyes sliding shut as pleasure and something darker, more possessive rolled through him. In weeks or months to come you would still be swollen, but not just with his cum. He pictured you utterly round and heavy with his babies, belly stretched tight, breasts full, cunt still greedy and leaking for him even while carrying his heirs.

A low, guttural groan left his throat.

His hand pressed firmer against the swollen curve of your stomach, fingers splaying wide as if he could will it to happen by touch alone. He pushed gently, feeling the way your belly gave under the pressure, feeling the obscene slosh of cum inside you as he fucked it even deeper.

“Take it,” he rasped against your ear, voice thick and wrecked. “All of it. Let it settle deep. Let it take root.”

Your cunt fluttered weakly around both cocks, still milking him through the last heavy spurts. You whimpered softly into his neck, body limp and trembling, completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume he had pumped into you. Your belly felt impossibly full, heavy and warm, the skin stretched tight over the twin loads he refused to let leak out.

Sukuna kept his hand there, palm pressed possessively over the swell, thumb stroking slow circles as if soothing the place he had just flooded. His other arms held you close, one cradling the back of your head, another wrapped around your waist, keeping you impaled deep on both cocks while the last thick pulses emptied into your womb.

He stayed buried inside you long after the last spurt, breathing hard against your hair, eyes still closed as the fantasy lingered behind his lids. You, swollen and glowing, carrying his children. The thought made his cocks twitch again inside you, another small leak of cum escaping despite how tightly he filled you.

He kissed your temple, then your cheek, voice low and dark with satisfaction.

“You’re going to look so beautiful like this… all round and full with what I put in you.”

The bathwater had gone cloudy around you both, thick with the evidence of his release. Your belly rose and fell heavily with every shallow breath, swollen and claimed, while Sukuna held you close, hand never leaving the soft, rounded swell he had created, already imagining how much more he would fill you in the nights to come.

After you took both his cocks, he held you like something breakable.

The water had gone thick and cloudy with his cum, the fragrant scent of yuzu now drowned beneath the heavy musk of sex. Sukuna felt a flicker of something close to guilt when he looked at the mess he had made of you, but it was quickly swallowed by the deeper satisfaction of seeing you so thoroughly claimed. Still, he needed to clean you. He could not leave you like this, leaking and trembling and swollen.

When he finally began to slip free, both cocks sliding out of your ruined cunt with a wet, obscene sound, you cried.

A soft, broken sob left your lips the moment the thick heads popped free. Immediately a flood of creamy white poured from your stretched hole, thick ropes of his cum gushing out in heavy pulses, sliding down your thighs and swirling into the already filthy water. Your poor pussy gaped for a moment, puffy and red, unable to close after taking both of his cocks so deep. More cum kept leaking, slow and endless, as if your body refused to let go of what he had given it.

You did not let him go.

The moment he tried to shift you, your arms locked tight around his neck, legs wrapping around his torso with surprising strength. You clung to him like a vine, face buried in the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut. Tired as you were, every ounce of remaining energy seemed to have gathered in your limbs. You would not release him, not even for a second.

Sukuna exhaled softly, one large hand cradling the back of your head while the other supported your ass, holding you securely against his chest even as cum continued to drip from your cunt onto his skin.

“It’s okay, pretty girl,” he cooed, voice low and soothing against your ear. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

He shifted carefully in the cloudy water, you still attached to him like a second skin, legs locked tight around his waist, arms wound around his neck. With one free hand he grabbed a clean cloth from the side of the tub. With another he reached over and unplugged the drain, letting the filthy, cum-laden water begin to swirl away. Fresh warm water poured in from the spout, clear and steaming, slowly refilling the tub around your joined bodies.

He held you the entire time, rocking you gently, pressing soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. Every time a fresh sob slipped from you, every time more cum leaked out of your swollen pussy and trickled down his abdomen, he murmured quiet reassurances.

“Shh… I know, sweetheart. I know it feels like too much. But I’m not going anywhere. Just let me clean you up.”

He dipped the cloth into the fresh water and began to wipe you gently, starting with your thighs, then carefully between your legs. The warm cloth soothed the tender, puffy folds, but every pass still made you whimper and cling tighter. More thick white continued to spill from your cunt no matter how carefully he cleaned, as if your body was determined to keep every drop he had pumped into you.

Sukuna did not mind.

He simply held you closer, kissing your closed eyelids, stroking your back with slow, steady hands while the clean water rose around you both. Your legs stayed locked around his torso, arms tight around his neck, face hidden against his skin as you trembled and leaked and refused to let go.

“It’s okay,” he whispered again, pressing another kiss to your hair. “I’m right here, pretty girl. I’ve got you. Let it all out. I’ll take care of everything.”

The bath slowly filled with fresh, steaming water.

Your cunt continued to leak his cum in slow, creamy pulses.

And Sukuna held you through it all, cooing soft praises and gentle reassurances while you clung to him with every bit of strength left in your tired body, safe and claimed in the arms of the monster who had ruined you so sweetly.

When he had you mostly cleaned, Sukuna gathered you up once more.

You were still latched onto him, arms locked tight around his neck, legs wrapped firmly around his torso as though letting go might make the world disappear. Even in your exhaustion your body refused to release its hold. He did not mind. He simply rose from the tub with you attached, water streaming off both of you in rivulets, and stepped out onto the cool stone floor.

One of his large hands petted your hair in slow, soothing strokes, fingers combing through the damp strands while he murmured quiet words against your temple.

“I’ve got you. Just keep holding on, pretty girl.”

He reached for a thick, soft towel and dried you as best he could while you remained clung to his chest. He wiped your back, your shoulders, the curve of your ass, moving carefully around the places where your bodies pressed together. The towel came away damp with bathwater and the last traces of his cum that still leaked slowly from your swollen cunt. Every gentle pass made you whimper softly, but you only tightened your grip, face buried deeper into the crook of his neck.

Sukuna carried you like that all the way back to the main chamber, your legs locked around his waist, your arms wound tight around his neck. He moved slowly, deliberately, one hand supporting your weight beneath your ass while the other continued to pet your hair in steady, comforting rhythms.

When he reached the wide mat he lowered himself down carefully, keeping you cradled against his chest the entire time. Only then did he try to coax you into drinking.

He reached for the clay cup of water Uraume had left on the low table, bringing it to your lips with gentle insistence.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and patient. “Just a little. You need it.”

You turned your face away at first, eyes still closed, too tired and overwhelmed to do anything but cling. Sukuna did not push. He simply waited, stroking your back, pressing soft kisses to your hair until you finally parted your lips. He tilted the cup slowly, letting you take small, careful sips. Cool water slid down your throat, soothing the dryness left from all your moaning and crying. You drank in tiny mouthfuls, swallowing obediently each time he encouraged you with quiet praise.

“Good girl… that’s it. Just a little more.”

When you had taken enough he set the cup aside and wrapped both arms around you again, holding you close against his warm body. Your legs stayed wrapped around his torso, your arms locked around his neck, your face tucked safely into the curve of his shoulder. Fresh tears slipped from your closed eyes, but they were softer now, exhaustion winning over everything else.

Sukuna continued to pet your hair, slow and steady, his other hands resting possessively along your back and the curve of your ass. He could still feel the occasional warm trickle of his cum leaking from your cunt onto his skin, but he made no move to clean it further. He simply held you, letting you cling as tightly as you needed.

“Sleep now,” he whispered against your hair, pressing one last gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I’m right here. I’m not letting go.”

You stayed latched onto him, trembling faintly, body heavy with fatigue and the deep, lingering fullness he had left inside you. The chamber was quiet except for the soft sound of your breathing and the steady rhythm of his hand stroking through your hair.

And Sukuna held you through it all, content to let his stolen faithful remain wrapped around him like you never wanted to be anywhere else.

He eventually pulled your tired arms away from his neck.

It took gentle coaxing, his fingers carefully unwinding your grip until your limbs fell limp and heavy against his chest. Even in sleep your body protested the loss of contact, a small, unconscious whimper slipping past your lips. Sukuna gathered you closer, all four arms cradling you against him like something infinitely precious. One pair supported your back and thighs, another rested along your sides, keeping you secure in the wide span of his hold. His massive frame curled protectively around your much smaller one on the wide mat.

He looked at you.

Really looked.

This small woman who had taken all of him so eagerly, who had cried and begged and still opened wider when he asked. He had put you through so much. From the burning temple to the blade at his throat, from the first brutal claiming to the bath where he had stretched you beyond reason and flooded you until your belly swelled. The memory of your tears, your broken moans, your desperate clinging lingered in his chest like an unfamiliar weight.

Guilt, quiet and unfamiliar, settled deep inside him.

One large hand came up to cup your face, thumb brushing slowly across your cheek. Your lashes were still damp, lips slightly parted in exhausted sleep. So delicate. So human. And yet you had taken the King of Curses into your body twice tonight and held him there like you never wanted him to leave.

His gaze drifted lower.

His hand slid down to rest over the soft, swollen curve of your tummy. The skin was warm and taut beneath his palm, still rounded from the sheer volume of cum he had pumped into you. He caressed it gently, fingers tracing slow circles over the place where his seed now rested deep inside your womb. The thought of it taking root sent a strange ripple through him.

He had never cared for heirs.

Rulers did not need bloodlines. Conquest was eternal. Legacy was written in blood and fear, not in small hands and soft cries. It was such a human thing.

But then he remembered the lake earlier that day.

You beneath the pear tree, sunlight dancing across your skin, blossoms drifting down while you came apart so sweetly on his tongue. The image shifted in his mind, unbidden, and suddenly he saw you again, months from now, belly round and heavy with his child, glowing, soft, still looking at him with those wide, trusting eyes.

It was not such a bad sight.

In fact, it felt… right.

The realization clicked into place with surprising clarity.

He would only want that with you.

Not with any trembling village girl or fearful shrine maiden he could have taken on a whim. Only with the faithful one he had stolen, the one who had once held a knife to his throat and then pulled him closer instead. The one whose body had learned to crave him, whose heart still raced beneath his palm even in sleep.

Sharing a life with you suddenly seemed possible.

Not just possession. Not just claiming. Something quieter. Something that looked like mornings with pears and evenings in the bath and nights where you clung to him even after he had ruined you.

Sukuna’s hand stayed cupped over your swollen belly, thumb stroking slow, almost reverent circles. His other arms tightened around you, pulling you closer until your cheek rested against his chest and your legs draped over his hip.

He pressed a single, lingering kiss to the top of your head.

“Sleep, little one,” he whispered into your hair, voice barely audible. “I will take care of you now. Whatever comes… I will take care of you.”

The guilt still lingered, but it was softened by something warmer, something dangerously close to tenderness. He kept his hand on your belly, feeling the faint flutter of your breathing, imagining the day it might flutter with something more.

For the first time in his long, bloody existence, Ryomen Sukuna allowed himself to picture a future that was not only conquest and fear, but one that included you, soft and full and his in every possible way.

He closed his eyes, still cradling you close, and let the quiet thought settle deep inside him.

You.

His.

Perhaps even carrying his child.

The King of Curses held his stolen faithful through the night, one hand never leaving the gentle swell of your belly, already wondering how soon he could make that vision real.

You laid on your back in the cool hush of his chamber, the thick bedding Sukuna had carefully arranged around you cradling your body like a nest. The night air was still, carrying only the faint crackle of a low brazier and the soft rhythm of your breathing. From across the room Sukuna stood watching for a long moment, four crimson eyes fixed on the peaceful sight of you.

Your eyes were closed in deep sleep, lashes resting against your cheeks, lips slightly parted. The thick layers of bedding he had swaddled you in kept you warm, but every time you shifted even the smallest amount the weight of your growing swell became more and more apparent. The soft curve of your belly rose gently beneath the covers, rounder now, heavier, undeniably full with the life he had planted inside you. The sight held him transfixed, something ancient and possessive stirring low in his chest as he stared at the proof of what you had taken from him and made your own.

You were pregnant.

The knowledge still felt new, strange, and yet utterly right.

The moment you began to shift again, a small furrow appeared between your brows. Your hands moved restlessly beneath the bedding, fingers clutching at the empty space beside you, searching, reaching for the solid warmth that was no longer there. A quiet, distressed sound slipped from your throat, barely more than a breath.

Sukuna was already moving.

He crossed the chamber in three silent strides, sliding onto the wide mat beside you before your hands could grasp at nothing again. His large palms found yours immediately, fingers threading through your smaller ones, pulling your hands against his chest. He drew you close with all four arms, carefully turning you onto your side so your swollen belly rested safely against the hard planes of his body. One arm slipped beneath your head as a pillow, another curled around your back, the third settled protectively over the curve of your tummy, and the last stroked slow, soothing lines along your spine.

The moment he had you tucked against him your breathing settled. The tension melted from your shoulders, your face relaxing once more into peaceful sleep. You nuzzled closer, cheek pressing to his collarbone, one leg instinctively draping over his hip as if even unconscious you needed to be as close as possible. A soft, contented sigh left your lips.

You had found utter comfort in Sukuna now, even more so since the pregnancy had begun to show. The fear that once lived in your eyes had long since softened into something warmer, something that sought him out in sleep and in waking. He had become your safety, your anchor, the only place where the weight of your changing body felt bearable.

Sukuna kept his hand splayed wide over the swell of your belly, feeling the faint, steady pressure beneath his palm. He could sense the life growing there, the subtle movements that had only just started to become noticeable. His thumb traced slow circles over the taut skin, reverent and quiet.

He had never imagined he would want this.

Yet here you were, swollen with his child, clinging to him even in dreams, trusting him completely with the fragile new life you carried. The guilt he had once felt had faded into something deeper, something that made him hold you a little tighter every night.

He pressed a slow kiss to the top of your head, lips lingering in your hair as he whispered against the strands, voice barely audible in the quiet chamber.

“I’m here, little one. I’ve got you both.”

Your fingers tightened faintly around his in sleep, as if answering him. Your breathing stayed even and deep, your body heavy and warm against his, the swell of your belly pressed safely between you.

Sukuna closed his eyes, but he did not sleep.

He simply held you, one hand never leaving the gentle curve where his child grew, listening to the soft sounds of your breathing and feeling the quiet wonder of how completely you had changed everything.

The King of Curses laid awake in the cool darkness, cradling his pregnant faithful close, already certain that he would burn the world again if it meant keeping this peace intact.

In the quiet dark of the chamber, with you safely tucked against his chest and the soft swell of your belly pressed between your bodies, Sukuna let his mind drift back.

He remembered the first time you had started craving fruit.

It began with pears, ironically enough. You would wake in the middle of the night and ask for them in that small, shy voice, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had laughed low and fetched them himself, slicing the sweet golden flesh with the same blade that had once rested against his throat. You ate them with such quiet greed, juice running down your chin, eyes fluttering in simple pleasure. He had thought nothing of it then, only that his stolen girl had developed a taste for something soft and sweet.

Then the sickness came.

Mornings where you would suddenly turn pale and rush to the basin, retching until there was nothing left. He had frowned and blamed the pears at first, muttering that perhaps they had been too ripe, too cold, too much. He brought you warmer broth instead, held your hair back, and told you to stop eating so many. You had only shaken your head weakly and asked for another pear once the nausea passed.

Then your body began to change.

Your breasts grew heavier, more sensitive. Your hips softened. And your belly… your belly started to round in the gentlest way. At first he told himself it was only the constant fullness he kept pumping into you every night, the thick loads he refused to let you waste. But the rounding stayed even on the rare days he did not fill you.

The truth finally struck him one evening after you had bathed.

You were still wet and naked, skin glistening, towel having slipped from your fingers to pool on the floor. You bent to retrieve it, back arching, the curve of your spine leading down to the plush swell of your ass. Sukuna had been behind you in an instant, drawn by the sight like a moth to flame.

He stepped close, chest brushing your back, and slid one large hand around to cup the front of your tummy. The moment his palm settled over the gentle curve, something clicked into place. The weight felt different. Warmer. Alive.

His voice had come out low, almost hesitant, each word measured and slow as if he were testing the shape of something dangerous and beautiful.

“…It is not the pears,” he had murmured against the damp skin of your shoulder, fingers spreading wider over your belly. “I think… something else has taken root here.”

He paused, letting the silence stretch, letting you feel the weight of his hand and the weight of his meaning.

“Life,” he said at last, voice dropping even lower, almost reverent, “is growing inside you.”

Your breath had stilled completely.

Your smaller hands flew to cover his where it rested on your tummy. You exhaled shakily, the sound trembling in the quiet room.

“Pregnant…” The word left your lips in a stunned whisper. Then again, softer, disbelieving, “I’m pregnant.”

It sounded surreal even to your own ears.

Sukuna had pulled you back against his chest immediately, both arms wrapping around you from behind, holding you tighter than he ever had. No discussions had come before this moment. You had both known the possibility was there, after all the countless nights he had come deep inside you again and again, flooding your womb until it overflowed. Yet hearing it spoken aloud made the truth settle heavy and wonderful between you.

You looked down at your own tummy, watching the way his large hand cradled the gentle swell, and a soft, overwhelmed laugh bubbled up through your tears.

Sukuna’s chin rested on top of your head. His voice rumbled through you, low and teasing, but warm.

“What was that just now?” He gave the slightest roll of his hips, pressing the heavy line of his cocks against the curve of your ass. “Having lewd thoughts about how I filled you so well that it took?”

Your face burned, but you could not deny the fresh slick that had gathered between your thighs at his words. You nodded shyly, biting your lip, still staring down at the place where his hand protected the new life growing inside you.

He chuckled softly, pressing a slow kiss to the side of your neck.

“Good,” he murmured, hand gently rubbing circles over your belly. “Because I plan to keep you this full for a very long time.”

Back in the present, lying together in the cool chamber, Sukuna’s hand remained exactly where it had been that day, splayed protectively over the now much rounder swell of your pregnant belly. He felt the faint, fluttering movements beneath his palm and smiled into your hair.

The pears had only been the beginning.

Now you carried his child, and every night he held you just like this, quietly marveling at how completely one stolen faithful girl had rewritten his world.

[aliienangel]

　　 📞　RUIN THE FRIENDSHIP!　　..　 𝓼 . 𝑔𝑒𝓉𝑜

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚： ‎‎ ‎♡ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ friendships can be hard, especially when the lines are so blurry you can't tell where the both of you stand. so what do you do when you catch feelings on top of all that?

cw ‎ ‎‎⤷ 𖥻‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎. ‎‎˖ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ꒰ 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊 ꒱ ‎‎‎‎. smut . pwp . swearing . making out . annoying drunk stranger . fingering . dirty talk . marking . titty worship . piv . clit slapping . c pie . geto fucks mean . geto is a TEASE . multiple o's . oversim . f!reader . s/her prns . no use of y/n ♯ 11.9k

Being friends with Geto Suguru isn’t hard… in theory but in practice it’s one of the most difficult things you’ve ever had to do. It’s especially difficult because he does things for you that feel like they’re pushing the boundaries of a normal friendship without actually doing anything weird.

Things like his insistence on bringing things for you when you’re feeling down, showing you extra care in how he talks to you, hanging out with you and having frequent movie nights, being attentive to your needs. While those things are innocuous in theory, it’s the way he treats you, talks to you and how it makes you feel that has your friendship feeling like it’s on a precarious ledge. Caught between pulling back or pushing over.

Sighing, your foot kicks at his sitting form. “Don’t you have something better to do tonight?”

“Like what?” His eyebrow raises at you, eyeing your lazy form that’s all spread out comfortably on your couch.

You’d maybe feel bad for taking up the whole couch if you weren’t so comfortable. “I don’t know, like a date? Hanging with friends? Going out on the town or whatever youths do.”

“Firstly, I’m older than you—”

Interjecting to add, “—Not by much!”

He only rolls his eyes, ignoring your interruption all together. “To your other points, I’m not interested in dating, and I am hanging out with a friend.”

Sighing louder than last time, foot pushing him enough to sway him. “Aren’t you bored of me?”

“No?” His brows pinch together in confusion. “Should I be?” Hand grabbing your foot to stop it from kicking at him.

You pout, trying to pull yourself free of his grip. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t say stupid things,” he huffs, amused by your struggle. “I could ask you the same thing you know.”

“I like hanging out with you,” you grumble at him.

“Yeah, well, I feel the same.” Finally letting go of your foot.

You’re feeling restless, he’s your friend, you know he’s your friend, and yet you can’t help hoping that your friendship is just a little bit more special. You groan and kick at him with both your feet.

“Woah, hey!” Both his hands grab at your ankles, pinning them down into the couch. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“I’ve taken notice.” He’s trapping you with a pointed look, waiting for more of an explanation from you.

If you had an explanation, you’d freely give it to him but as of right now, you aren’t even sure if you’re aware of what you’re feeling enough to verbalise it to him. You deflate, looking back at him sheepishly. “I know you want to know what’s wrong, but I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Or you don’t want me to know?”

Pushing yourself up, you cock your head at him. “The result is the same despite my answer, no?”

“No,” his is tone resolute. “I could help.”

You deliver a very plain, “You can’t.” He’s the cause of your confusion, talking to him could make it all so much worse and you don’t really want to deal with the fallout of all that.

“Woah, awful dismissive of me, I might be able to easily fix what’s wrong.”

Turning so you’re facing the screen, you try to focus on the films plot. “You can fix what’s wrong right now by being quiet and watching the movie.”

“I was watching the movie, you distracted me.” He pokes lightly at your shoulder.

Shushing at him quickly, “Shut, I’m trying to listen.”

He doesn’t say anything more, just goes back to watching the movie in silence, probably following the plot better than you are because you’re sat closer to him like this and can’t help but sneak glances at him.

It’s not fair, he looks pretty like this. Face illuminated by the soft glow of the television, seemingly entranced by the movie playing. While gazing over his features, you find yourself constantly looking back at his lips, heart stuttering in your chest. You wonder how kissing him would feel like, would it help, wait.

Prying your eyes off him, you desperately hope to be shown some kind of mercy. You shouldn’t want to kiss him, you shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him. You need to get a hold of yourself.

Predictably, you are not shown any kind of mercy and all you can manage to think about is him. How soft his lips might be, how he would kiss you, would he be tentative… or would he kiss you like he’s done it a million times before.

Not even realising you’re staring at him again until he sighs and locks his eyes onto yours. “Are you aware you’re staring at me?”

Trying to play it cool by answering, “I wasn’t staring.”

“Are you alright?” He’s growing a little concerned by your unusual behaviour tonight.

“I’m fine! Good even, just… have some things on my mind.” You feel guilty.

“And just what exactly are these things you’re thinking about?”

Your skin flares at his question, feeling embarrassed by your own thoughts. “Nothing! General thoughts… you know…”

“Right…” He’s clearly sceptical, not believing your flimsy answers for even a second. “Have I done something to upset you?”

He’s too much for you right now, you try answering confidently but fail miserably. “No?”

Moving so his body is facing you, he gets into your space, worried by your answer. “Why don’t you sound sure?”

“Why are you asking me so many questions tonight?” You avoid his gaze, flustered by him suddenly being so close to you. Still thinking about his lips on yours, in the back of your head thinking about his hands on your body.

“You’re being weird, I’m just concerned.” His hand reaches for your face. “Do you have a fever or something?” His knuckles rest on your cheek, gauging your temperature.

“Seriously, I’m fine.” You’re fumbling more than you want to, eyes rounded and shocked looking into his.

It feels like you grow warmer the longer his hand stays on your face, it’s becoming difficult to think. If you had a good reason, you would kick him out right now but you’re already concerning him and you’re trying so hard to be normal. This night is taking a very unfortunate turn.

His face twists, concern written all over it. “You feel a little warm, are you sure you’re okay?” Hand slipping from your cheek, moving to rest against the back of the couch.

Trying to keep your answers short, you give a simple, “I’m sure.”

Geto doesn’t know where to go from here, his silence is evidence of that. You don’t blame him though because you’re not really sure where to go from here either, the thoughts of his lips on yours linger in your mind and you feel as if you could die.

“I just…” He looks to you when you start talking, ready to hear whatever it is you have to say, “I was just thinking – and don’t make this weird – but I was thinking about… how you would kiss me…” your words trail off slightly, growing quieter and quieter with each word.

His eyes widen slightly in response before he switches back to his neutral expression. “I—”

“—I don’t wanna know, don’t talk actually,” you cut him off abruptly. Too embarrassed to dissect this any further and certainly not willing to have a conversation with him about it, already regretting having admitted to thinking it.

He questions you, clearly caught between being entertained and somewhat concerned, “I’m not allowed to comment?”

“No.”

“Even though you’ve been thinking about how I would­—”

Hurriedly moving your hand to cover his mouth, hissing out, “Shush!”

You’re closer like this, the proximity flustering you, the silence awkward. Suguru glares at you from under your hand. He has something to say and is showing clear disdain for your repeated interruptions.

His larger hand reaches up and wraps around your wrist, trying to gently pry your hand away but you hold steady. Growing frustrated with this little tug of war game you have going on, he uses more force to pull your hand down, grabbing your other hand as well. Restraining them both in your lap to keep you still.

Exasperated when he asks, “Don’t you think you’re overreacting slightly?”

“No.” You tug back on his grip but get nowhere.

“Why are you annoyed at me over this? They’re your thoughts,” he reminds.

You’re irritated with how right he is; it’s not his fault you’re thinking like this. Knowing that doesn’t change the fact that sitting right next to him makes it difficult for you to think of anything other than how soft his lips might be, or if he’ll hold you still while he kisses you, or if­—

He barks out a quick laugh, “You wanna kiss me that bad?”

Realising you were staring at his lips again you feel like you might spontaneously combust, struggling against his hold and huffing out, “Shut up, just forget I even said anything.”

He sounds restrained and incredibly serious when he murmurs back, “Might not be able to if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Don’t make this even more embarrassing for me, Suguru! It’s your fault,” you accuse indignantly.

Lips quirking evilly, “Oh? So, you want me to fix it then?”

“You should! Take a little responsibility,” you grumble out at him, all pouty and annoyed.

He leans in closer to press you, “Do you want me to kiss you? Do you think it would help?”

“I don’t know… I mean…” You look to his lips again, gaze getting a little lost as you do. You’re a completely helpless cause.

If Suguru were being honest with you, he’d tell you how much you’re killing him when you look at him like that but he’s stubborn and a tease, so instead he says, “Eyes up here.”

Dragging your eyes back to his and staring daggers, completely pissed at him but mostly yourself for being so obvious again. “Do you think it would help?”

“You’d stop wondering,” he shrugs easily, like this is all so incredibly normal and not uncharted territory for the both of you.

“I don’t want this to make our friendship weird.” Feeling pathetic as you look at him, you’re not even sure if what you have together is as simple as a friendship, it feels like so much more. At least, you’re kind of hoping it is, kissing him could do irreparable damage and you don’t just mean in terms of how you act around one another but specifically how you feel about him.

“I won’t let it,” he assures.

“I’m not worried about you…”

He’s taken aback by your small admission, it’s not clear enough for him to make any real conclusions from it or confront you on anything but he knows it makes his heart beat faster and flusters him slightly. In all his years of casual dating and serious relationships, you’re the only person to have ever made him feel like such a fool.

“It’s up to you then,” he smiles softly.

You aren’t sure if it’s worth the risk but if this is the only chance you’ll get then you don’t know if you want to risk letting it go by either. “I think… yes.”

Playing dumb, he returns, “‘Yes’ what?”

Your tone is lowering again, confident answer short lived when he teases you. “Yes… I want you to kiss me…”

“You’re sure?” He asks but his hands are already moving up your body, one resting against the side of your neck, touch gentle and light.

“I mean… I’m not sure if this is a good idea but I’m sure I want you to kiss me.”

He huffs lightly in disbelief, breath tickling against your lips. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“You…” Frown dusting your features as you utter it, eyes already focused back on his lips.

He doesn’t say any more after that, faltering in his movements a bit but ultimately moving in completely and pressing his lips to yours delicately. It’s featherlight, kiss shallow and simple, like he’s holding back. It’s still enough to have your head full, full of thoughts of him, of how soft his lips are, how gentle his kisses are.

Geto pulls back all too soon for your liking, putting some distance between the two of you, head tilting to the side as he looks you over. “Curiosity satisfied.”

“Is that really how you would want to kiss me?”

“What?”

At his question you’re suddenly all too aware of how bold yours was. “I just… It’s nothing, sorry.” Fumbling over yourself, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “It was nice! It was a nice kiss.”

“No, no,” he squints at you, “Go on… say what you want.”

It’s quiet for a moment, your hesitance clear. “…Did you… kiss me how you wanted to?”

“I think if I kissed you how I wanted,” pausing to lean in closer, “You might pass out or something.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not my first kiss or anything,” you roll your eyes at him and his ego, “I was just curious, if that’s really how you’d kiss me then that’s all there is to it, it was a nice kiss.” You shrug at him.

“Why am I starting to feel like I’m being assessed?”

“If you feel that way then that’s on you.” Trying so hard to play it cool, like you can’t tell he was holding back, like you don’t want him to kiss you more. “Do you wanna go back in the movie? Rewind to where we were before?”

As you get up to move off the couch and find the remote, Suguru is pulling you back down to him, one hand gently holding the front of your throat. You don’t get a second to think about all the movements he just made, his lips on yours rushed, like he’s suddenly, incredibly desperate to kiss you.

Barely able to keep up with him, head dizzy from the whiplash, this isn’t at all how he kissed you before. You’re basically panting against him when he does pull back, allowing you the small moment to catch your breath.

His thumb pulls down on your chin lightly. “Open your mouth more.” His eyes are lidded as he looks at you, tone deeper than before.

Obeying him wordlessly and then he’s kissing you again, tongue in your mouth. It’s all messy and rushed and has you losing your mind. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he pulls your body closer to his, hand moving to the back of your head.

When he sucks your tongue into his mouth and licks at you, you can’t stop the moan that leaves you. Swallowed down by Geto in an appreciative manner, his kiss lingers for a while longer, making you dizzy and thoughtless. He pulls back from you, connected by a string of saliva that snaps when he licks at his lower lip.

The look on your face is dumbstruck, eyes big and wet as you gaze up at him in a dazed manner. It makes him feel feral, not able to help the way he leans back in and presses more short, sloppy kisses to your swollen lips.

There’s a pause before you can regain your faculties enough to say anything to him and even then, the only thing you can manage is, “I… uhm…”

“Was that better?” He’s trying to be light-hearted about it, but his lips are swollen as well, and his eyes are lidded, and he looks… “You didn’t pass out did you?” His head lowers so his eyes catch yours.

Your brain feels fuzzy and all you can think about is how you’ve never been kissed like that before, that you want to keep being kissed like that. “What? No… I just… wow.”

“Live up to your expectations?”

“I didn’t really have any, I was only curious…” Smiling big at him, you add, “But yeah, maybe even exceeded them.”

“You aiming to boost my ego, or did I really kiss you stupid?” He can’t help the way he leans in again, just shy of your lips.

Mouth on yours before you get to answer or refute what he’s accused, you don’t stop him though, allowing him to kiss you fully, deeply. One of his hands on the side of your face, holding you. The other grips at your hip, almost tugging you in closer.

Before you lose focus again, you part to gasp out, “I don’t know if—” Interrupted by his lips on yours, tangling your hand into his hair to pull him back, he groans at the force of the tug. “Suguru, I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep—”

“—Just another kiss, one more…” breathless when he talks, mouth hot on yours, tongue already in your mouth.

It’s almost too much, he’s so insistent. Kissing you like he might never get to again, like he’s trying to get the most out of this. He might actually have you passing out, it’s not even as if you really want him to stop but that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?

Pulling back, he sucks on your lower lip before nipping at it. The whimper he pulls from you is embarrassing and weak and you’re facing an internal conflict of so many emotions right now, but mostly you’re struck by how badly you want to sleep with him.

You hadn’t realised his hand had snuck under your shirt, warm and large against your side, sending a shiver down your spine. The breathlessness you’re hit with has your skin feeling hot as you try to stumble out your words, “I, uh, think we should stop… here.”

“Why? Am I not a good kisser? Are you not enjoying yourself?” A smile creeps onto his face. “You sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Don’t.” Your head tucks down and onto his chest, forehead resting against him. “Please don’t embarrass me.”

He wraps his arms around your body, embracing you. “Can’t help it.”

You stay like this for probably longer than you should, enjoying the moment too much for someone who’s about to go back to being just his friend.

Geto breaks the silence first, speaking into the top of your head, “Is your curiosity satisfied or are you going to start kicking me again?”

“I can’t promise I’ll never kick you again but yeah… I’m satisfied.”

He laughs against you, “Alright, well, if you’re ever curious again… you know where to find me.”

It’s been about a week since you crossed a line you probably shouldn’t have in your friendship with Suguru, and like the incredibly brave individual you are… you have been ignoring him.

Not on purpose though, you intend on replying to all his messages… but then you get nervous and freak yourself out and stop short of sending anything back. From his messages, you can tell he’s getting increasingly more worried… or maybe frustrated… you’re not sure, there is only so much you can infer over text.

Maybe you should reply, looking at his last message that reads, ‘seriously? answer me. today.’ Oh yeah… he’s annoyed, you have no idea how to reply to him, maybe something simple? Or maybe a long paragraph overexplaining yourself… or maybe—

Your phone screen changes to Shoko’s caller ID, saved by the metaphorical bell. “Hey! What’s up?”

She sounds a bit short when she answers you, “Are you coming tonight?”

“Tonight…” You trail off, completely blanking on what the hell she’s talking about.

Her reply coming incredibly deadpan and disappointed, “You forgot.”

“No noo, I would never forget about…” The rest of your sentence dropping off, silence falling over the line.

She fills in the gaps for you, “The stupid party that’s being thrown by our stupid friends to celebrate the stupid event that is a boring, normal, Friday night.”

She already sounds over it and you’re pretty sure she would’ve only just got there. “Okay, well… I now feel significantly better about the fact that I actually had forgotten what tonight was.”

“Yeah, well I wish I had forgotten too because this is boring without you.”

“Didn’t you only just get there?”

“I feel like that’s beside the point.” You can feel her eyeroll through the phone. “So, when are you getting here?”

Sighing as you ask, “Do I really have to come?”

Not missing a single beat when she shoots back, “I’m here which means yes, you do.”

You go quiet for a moment, “…Will Suguru be there?”

“You’re more likely to know than me,” she sounds confused, “Listen, I don’t know what happened but surely you don’t think you can avoid him forever.”

“Not forever… just tonight.” You really don’t feel like running into him in person, not when you can barely get your head on straight long enough to message him back.

“I haven’t seen him, and he didn’t sound all that interested when this was first planned so I doubt he will show up.”

“You’re not just lying to get me there, are you?”

“Of course not.” It’s always been hard to tell when she’s joking but you’re pretty sure Suguru isn’t there. If you had been replying to him, you probably would’ve ended up hanging out together tonight just to avoid that pointless party.

Deciding to take the risk, you acquiesce. “Alright, I’ll be there soon, just give me a bit to put on something that isn’t pyjamas.”

Getting out of the apartment will be good for you, that and you’ll have the chance to catch up with Shoko, it’s been a while since you last hung out.

“Just come in your pyjamas.”

“Okay, now you’re being unreasonable,” you chuckle.

She groans through the phone, “Gojo and I just made eye contact, that’s like asking to be trapped in a conversation for at least an hour.”

You smile at her and her exaggeration. “That’s really funny, tell him I said hi.”

“Don’t hang up on me—”

The line goes dead as you hang up on her.

Nearly an hour has passed by the time you get to the party, but when you make eye contact with Shoko across the room – still stuck in conversation with Gojo – it looks like a century has passed for her.

Walking up to them both, you grab Gojo by the sides of his arms and shake him, making a loud noise to scare him as you do. He just about dies then and there, head whipping around to see it’s just you and gripping a hand over his chest.

He’s a little breathless when he scolds you, “You scared the fuck outta me, what the hell?”

“I thought it would be funny.” You smile bright at him, out the corner of your eye seeing Shoko fighting a smile and hiding it behind her drink.

“It wasn’t,” he half pouts.

“It kinda was,” Shoko interjects.

He just continues to pout over how badly you got him.

“Hi Satoru,” you chirp at him, trying to be as sweet as possible for scaring the living daylights out of him.

“Yes, hello,” he fights a smile when greeting you back, and then his face twists as if suddenly remembering something. “Hey! What happened with you and Suguru?”

Taken aback by his abruptness. “What?”

He’s staring at you intently, seemingly desperate to know your business. “I know something happened, you gotta tell me what.”

Honestly, you would’ve thought Geto would’ve told him by now, seeing as how they’re sort of attached at the hip. “He hasn’t told you?”

“He’s insistent that nothing is wrong.”

“Then nothing’s wrong.”

“I know something is wrong and I also know you’re dodging him because he made me text you to see if you’d reply and you replied within the same minute,” he squints at you accusatorily.

Arms crossing over your chest as you size him up. “You sent me a photo of the cat that hangs out in your neighbourhood as bait? That’s messed up Satoru.”

“I was investigating,” he defends.

“No, you were being nosy, just like you are now.” Something occurs to you very suddenly, “Wait, if you’re here… and I’m here… where is Suguru?”

“Here, obviously,” he shrugs.

Turning, you glare at Shoko who raises her hands in defence. “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t lie, I really haven’t seen him. I’ve been trapped in conversation with this idiot the whole time.”

“Trapped? That’s so mean Shoko,” Gojo plays up his hurt, sulking and giving her the saddest eyes he can muster. It unsurprisingly has no effect on her.

He’s here somewhere, you need to leave before he sees you. You’re so annoyed at yourself for not connecting that Satoru being here obviously meant Suguru was going to be here too, especially since he wasn’t with you.

Spinning, you go for the front door you came through not that long ago. Managing to get it open a crack before a hand above your head closes it. Turning around, you come face to face with Suguru, a very annoyed Suguru. Polite smile painted on his face but his eyebrow twitches slightly.

His weight is supported by his hand on the door as he leans down to you. “And where are you going?”

“I was just gonna… head home… get an early night?” Looking away from him as you lie poorly, not able to look at him without thinking about how he kissed you.

He points out, “You just got here though.”

“Yeah, it’s just… not my scene…” In your defence, not a complete lie.

“Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.” He leans down further to catch your eyes with his, sick of you avoiding eye contact.

You’re only able to look at him incrementally, eyes flicking from his, to the wall behind him. “No there’s no reason for me to be avoiding you, I don’t know why you would think that.”

“Oh good! That means you can stay then.” Face scrunching with his—now—less than polite smile. Clearly growing frustrated with how you’re refusing to communicate with him properly.

You have no excuses to give, nothing good or even remotely believable anyways. “I uhh—”

Cutting you off to give an ultimatum, “—Either we’re leaving and talking like adults or you’re staying right here and suffering through this whole night with me right by your side.”

His choice in wording disgruntles you, locking eyes to say, “It doesn’t cause me suffering to be beside you, Suguru.” You want to make at least that much clear.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Good. Then you won’t mind me not leaving your side.”

Weighing your options, you don’t know what would be better right now. On the one hand you’d get to leave but then you’d have to tell him about how much you’re affected by the line you crossed, about how you’re developing feelings for him that you shouldn’t have indulged in. On the other, you stay but he lingers around you all night and you’re left haunted by all the things you want to say but can’t quite bring yourself to.

“Let’s go back to everyone then,” you smile back at him.

His face drops. “You don’t wanna talk about it that bad?”

“Suguru, you’re looking for answers I don’t even know if I can give you.”

He relents and takes a step back from you, “Fine. But just so you know, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Waiting for you to want to talk first seems to be his main goal but you can see just how impatient he’s getting.

You ignore his comment and walk past him back to Gojo and Shoko in the other room, they’re both exactly where you left them. It’s awkward, for you anyways. You don’t know about them or everyone else here, but you feel awkward.

It carries on for the whole night; it’s been a couple hours now and Suguru is still just following you around wordlessly. Only speaking to others when spoken too, engaging in some conversation, only to cut it short when you move on.

This really isn’t fun for you, normally not even bothering to come to house parties like this and only doing this as a favour to Shoko but she’s gone home now, and you’re left here with just Geto. You’d leave too, but you have a feeling he’s going to follow you home, or at the very least make you talk to him before you try leaving and you’re just… so not in the mood.

Sighing softly to yourself as you walk into the kitchen, somehow managing to shake your tail, for now. Taking the small reprieve as a chance to breathe and think, which is cut short when some stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Hi! You’re really hot, do you want a drink? I can make you a drink. I’ve never seen you here before and trust me– I’d remember you.” He’s slurring his words slightly, “So, drink? You wan– I can get you a—”

He’s really forward, and drunk, it’s making you uncomfortable, especially since you’re far too sober and far too annoyed to have to deal with drunk men. “—I’m good, thank you, I’m not drinking.”

“Oh, come on! Jus one drink, it’ll loosen you up.” He moves in to elbow your shoulder lightly. “You’re too hot to be­– to be such a downer, maybe a smile would help.”

Completely unamused and slowly shuffling back away from him. “I think I’d prefer you just leave me alone; I’m not interested.”

“Don– don’t be like that,” he sulks at you.

Your back collides with someone’s front and looking up you can see it’s your missing stalker of the night. As annoyed at Suguru as you are, you are endlessly thankful for his timing, physically feeling yourself relax now that he’s here.

Geto glares down at the pushy guy. “She’s not interested.”

“Oh man, I didn’t know she had– had a boyfriend, you know you should keep an eye on her,” the drunk idiot leers at you, “She’s kind of a tease, leading me on,” he shrugs.

Your face grimaces at his words and the way he eyes you, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Suguru moves in front of you, shielding you from him, his lip twitches at this guy’s words. “Excuse me?”

“No, well… I jus mean she didn’t tell me­—”

“—She said she wasn’t interested, that was enough,” Geto’s tone is growing more irritated by the moment.

“Suguru, let’s just go, it’s fine.” You tug on the hem of his jacket, not really wanting to have to deal with the fallout of whatever may happen if this idiot keeps unwittingly provoking Geto. He tries his best, but he has a breaking point, and he tends to hit it pretty quick when you’re involved.

He glances back at you. “It’s not fine.”

“Okay, it’s not but I kinda can’t stand this guy, and this party sucks and I’m annoyed, and I don’t wanna be here anymore.” You feel a little pathetic for whinging but you’re so drained and this guy was your breaking point.

All his attention drops from that guy to you, his hands coming up to either side of your face, taking in how tired you look. Thumbs stroking high on your cheekbones, “Alright, let’s leave.”

Relief in your bones at the fact you’re about to be gone from here, “Thank you.”

From behind Suguru you can see the drunk take the opportunity to slip away, apparently smart enough to use this distraction to his advantage. If Geto notices, he doesn’t say anything, clearly done with him, all attention on you now.

He hums at you, asking, “How’d you get here?”

Your eyes flick back to his. “I didn’t drive, if that’s what you’re asking.” You took an uber, you thought you’d either catch a ride with Shoko, or you’d take another uber home.

“You’re riding with me then.” His large hand takes yours. “Come on.” Then tugging you through the house behind him.

The car ride has been quiet, you can feel your head drooping and your eyes closing, very nearly falling asleep. That is until, you notice Geto isn’t taking you to your house, instead heading towards his.

Turning to face him, you ask, “Why are we going back to yours?”

Without turning to look at you, he replies, “Because you’ve been avoiding me, so I am now forcing you to spend time with me.”

He’s decidedly not funny. Sighing as you try to chide him, “Suguru—”

Finally glancing your way only to speak over you, “—Don’t ‘Suguru’ me, my place is closer and you’re tired, if you weren’t being so weird around me ever since I k—”

“—Shhh, be quiet.” Your cheeks suddenly feel warm at the memory of how insistent his kisses were.

“All I’m saying is, if you weren’t being so weird around me, you’d come back to mine tonight anyways.”

It’s frustrating to you that he’s right, you normally would just go back to his and crash in his bed next to him and then you’d make him breakfast the next morning to make up for the fact that you’d taken up his whole bed.

The only thing you can think to say is a flat, “…Fine.” Crossing your arms and looking out the car window the rest of the short drive.

Back at his apartment, he lends you some clothes to sleep in. It’s all incredibly intimate, showering in his bathroom, using the spare toothbrush you keep here, wearing his clothes. Has your friendship always been this intimate or are you just looking at it in a new light.

Leaving his bathroom, you find him in his room. Getting his bed ready for you to sleep in, you stand awkwardly at the foot of it. “I’ll just sleep on your couch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you always sleep in the bed with me.”

“Yeah but…” Your brows settle into a deep frown. “Do you not feel weird?”

He drops the blanket back onto the bed, exasperation with you clear. “I said to you, I wouldn’t let it affect our friendship, and that’s what I’m doing.” Turning to look at you before adding, “You’re the one making it weird.”

“I know that…” You also know that you were the one who said you weren’t worried about him.

His arms are crossed as he looks you over. “I’m gonna shower now, you don’t have to sleep in the bed, but I think you should, you know firsthand how awful that couch is.”

“Go have your shower.” You shoo him out of the room, standing in the middle of it, alone, considering what you should do.

The couch really is atrocious; it’s part of the reason why you started sleeping in his bed when you visited. He always says he’ll get a nicer couch or a blow-up mattress for you, but he never does, and you always end up in his bed anyways.

Deciding you’re too drained to think any harder about all of this, you crawl into his bed and make yourself comfortable. Everything is so frustrating to you right now, have you always felt this confused about your friendship or were the lines blurred for so long that you’re having trouble understanding where you both stand.

The irony of the situation is annoying and almost laughable because if it were about anyone else, you’d be hitting up Suguru and asking for his advice on it all.

When he comes back into the room, he shuffles around a bit before turning off the lights and getting into bed beside you. You’re lying on your side with your back to him, pretending to already be asleep.

His voice cuts through the quiet of the room, “I miss you.”

Your reaction to it is almost visceral, how are you meant to reply to that. It doesn’t help you feel better at all, only leaving you longing for something you don’t know if you’re allowed to claim. Your friendship has always been on a precarious ledge but it’s only now that you let yourself acknowledge the disgusting depth of your feelings for him.

You mumble into the pillow, “I’m right here.”

“Then why do you feel so far away?”

Readjusting, you rotate so you’re facing him, not completely prepared for him to already be facing you. Propped up on his elbow, closer than your poor heart was ready for. You lower your head, so you don’t have to look at his face. “I wasn’t purposefully ignoring you, I really did want to reply.”

He pushes, “So why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know what to say…”

“What can I do to help?” He lowers himself down to your level, head on his bicep.

You still avoid his gaze. “Nothing, you can’t do anything.”

“You’re being—”

“—You are the problem, Suguru, there is nothing you can do to help but get out of my head.” You meet his eyes, frown prominent on your face. “You and your stupid kiss, you made it all a thousand times worse for me.”

“Making out with me was so life changing that you can’t get it out of your head, and you’re annoyed at me for that? You’re the one who wanted to know what it was like.” He’s trying to keep his tone light-hearted but he’s struggling, seemingly growing more irritated by it all.

You grumble at him, discontent, “You don’t need to point out the obvious, stupid.”

A noise of disagreement comes from him, “Well, I feel like I kinda do, since you’re overreacting.”

“I am not overreacting.”

“You are though.”

“No because it’s not just…” you stop short, “…Whatever, I’m going to sleep so be quiet.” He smiles at you like you’re completely endearing, which only frustrates you further.

“The only reason you would be this annoyed is because you want to kiss me again, or more…” His hand reaches for your chin and tilts your head up towards him. “You tell me, are you still curious?”

“Shut up,” you huff out, going to move away only for his hand to slide to your cheek, holding you still.

“You haven’t asked me, you know.”

“What?”

“What if I want to kiss you again? What if I want to do more?” His forehead rests against yours. “You’ve been so caught up in your own head, acting like an idiot over this, that you’ve not even asked yourself about what I want.”

“I am not an idiot.”

“No, but you’ve certainly been acting like one.” His hand slides from your face, down the side of your body, landing on your hip. “At first I thought it was cute, the curiosity, the unawareness.” His hand tugs you in closer to him, body against yours. “But now… now I’m growing impatient.”

Your head feels fuzzy, all pressed up against him and that seems to be the only thing your brain is processing right now. “I’m confused.”

“It’s really quite simple.” He moves in, lips ghosting against yours.

You want so badly to kiss him, breath catching in your chest at the way his lips tickle against yours. Your attention solely on the way he might kiss you.

“You like me, and while it’s endearing to watch you fumble your way through the realisation, it’s killing me to know you’re all caught up on how I kissed you and I can’t even get in contact with you.”

“What? What?” Your brain takes a second to catch up. “I do not– you can’t know– just– what?”

“I can know, you know how? Because you’re painfully obvious about it. So honest, telling me about how you’re thinking of me, not able to look at me without looking at my lips,” a light laugh leaves him at your expression, “and it’s sweet, really. But I’m getting annoyed by the fact that you’re so obsessed with your own feelings that you’ve failed to consider mine.”

He’s giving you so much whiplash right now. “You—”

“—You think I kissed you like that just ‘cause?” He frowns at you, “I kissed you like that because I wanted to, I feel I was a little obvious about it all actually.”

“I’ve been so worried about ruining our friendship.” You feel so pitiful when you say it, like a wet puppy.

“I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “But I’ve hoped for nothing more.” He sighs, “I wanted you to come to me on your own, to talk to me about it but instead you hid from me.”

“What was I supposed to think? Through my eyes, I was stupid and asked you to kiss me just because I was thinking about it. Only to not stop thinking about it, and then realise I like you, my friend.” You pull back from him slightly. “How was I meant to talk to you about it?”

“You think I’d kiss just any friend because they simply wondered about what it would be like?” His brow lifts at you. “Don’t you think our friendship has always been a little too intimate to just be a friendship?”

“Nothing was ever said… how was I supposed to know?”

“Okay, well, let me be perfectly clear.” He tugs you in close again, eyes meeting yours, like he’s going to say something incredibly important, only to plant his lips on yours in a full kiss.

Hand holding you to him tight, like he needs you to stay pressed up against him. His mouth on yours is hot and consuming, kiss messy, tongue licking at yours. An involuntary moan gets caught in your chest and your hand moves to his hair, tangling in it.

Suguru’s parting from you to pant out, “I like you—” kissing you again, “I like kissing you—” lips desperate against yours, “I want to do so much more—” He never parts from you long at all, barley willing to but needing to get his words out.

This is a feeling that you’re never going to be able to forget, the first time he kissed you overwhelming enough and now it’s like he’s completely following his instinct. No critical thinking happening in his head or yours. All your thoughts wash away from you, slipping through your fingers before it even occurs to you to form a thought.

Less scared now, throwing caution to the wind, not worrying about how you should stop, how you can’t ruin the fragility of your friendship. It doesn’t matter anymore, not when he already knows how you feel, not when he seems to feel the same, not when it feels this good.

He mumbles against you, “That clear enough?”

“No,” you huff back, “I think… I’m still a little confused.”

“Well, in that case,” he smirks before kissing you again.

Hand moving to your thigh, sliding it across your skin before grabbing at your knee and crooking your leg to rest on his hip. Leaning into you slightly, using his weight to push back on you, rolling the pair of you until he’s on top. Forearm holding himself over you, his other hand still on your knee, holding you flush to him.

You gasp up at him when his erection ruts into your core, lips parting messily, spit connecting the two of you. A shudder runs down his spine when he looks down at you, at how you’re looking up at him. All big, wet eyes and kiss swollen lips, it’s like he feels all his insides softening for you in that moment, in the most sickeningly affectionate way.

His eyes suddenly look lost, and you don’t know why, going to say something only for his lips to land on yours again. Short, firm kisses planted on your lips over and over again, barely able to return them before he’s pulling back, just to do it again.

It’s sweet but it’s frustrating you, your hands are eventually grabbing at either side of his face and forcing his mouth onto yours, lips meshing together, kissing him fully. Tongue in his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. He moans at how you’re kissing him, at how both your legs are now wrapped around his waist.

Practically clinging to him, lips locked to his, your need making your body hot and head fuzzy. You’re trying so hard to not come across desperate for him, but you really can’t help the way your hips seek out his, grinding up into him.

His voice shakes with a moan, breaking the kiss, “Ohh fuck– hah—” a breathless kind of laugh leaving him, "A little eager, aren’t you?"

"Should we stop then?” You ask with a smile, hands untangling and pushing at his shoulders.

He rushes out, “No no, I didn’t say that.” He pulls your arms, so they’re wrapped around his neck again. “Come back,” a light laugh leaves him, pressing kisses all over your face, lingering on your lips.

“So… you don’t want to stop?”

“Absolutely not, be as needy as you want.” He looks down between where his hips are resting against yours, his cock twitching in his pants. “Hell… be needier.”

“I don’t know… maybe this is all happening too fast,” you say it light heartedly, teasing him, “I mean… we are just friends.”

“Just friends?” He takes personal issue with that, even if he can tell you’re goading him. “Just friends but you’re grinding your pussy all over me?” His hand slips into the front of your borrowed sleep shorts, two fingers rubbing between your folds over your panties.

Gasp leaving you, chest stuttering, “S-Suguru, I—”

“Letting your friend touch you like this, hmm?” He pulls your panties to the side, “Fuck– this wet for your friend?”

Your back arches against the bed when his fingers slip over your clit, struggling to get your words out. “I– mmph– I get it, m’sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He smiles sweetly at you but two of his fingers are slipping inside you, quirking up and rubbing at just the right spot.

God, your eyes roll into the back of your head, cunt pulsing around his fingers so needily. Hands grabbing at him, tangling in his long hair, gasping for air you don’t really need but feeling like you can’t breathe from how he’s touching you.

“What are you sorry for, pretty?” He wants you back on track, he wants to hear you stumble out your apology to him.

“I-I’m sorry– hnnn – f-for…” your mouth drops open in a moan when his thumb rubs at your clit, “You’re not jus– you’re not just my friend– oh! You’re more– you mean more– Ah! Ah!” You can’t think, not when he slides another finger into your pussy, stretching you so open.

He tips forward, fingers not stopping. “You mean it?”

It’s a question made to tease you but with your gooey brain, you look up at him so earnestly and answer, “Mhm, yeah.” Nodding your head firmly at him, even when your eyes look so fucked out.

Soft squelching noises fill the room with how his fingers fuck into you, your cunt clamping tight down around them. Walls so hot and wet that it’s driving him crazy, imagining how it would feel to have you wrapped so snug around his neglected cock.

He wants so badly to rip off your pants, so he can see just how well you’re taking his fingers but you’re pulsing so rhythmically around him, and your eyes roll with how good you feel. Making the nicest expressions for him that he can’t even tear his eyes away from your face if he wanted to.

“You’re really cute right now.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, his heart stammering at how your glistening eyes sparkle at him, at how your bottom lip wobbles.

Pouting up at him, “You don’t– ah!– think I’m cute all the time?”

“I think you’re downright adorable all the time,” he laughs airily, “but especially right now,” he’s gazing so intently at your face, “because, I’m pretty sure…” his thumb speeds up on your clit, “…you’re about to cum all over my fingers.”

Oh, how his words effect you so deeply, his tone, the cockiness. If he weren’t touching you so right you wouldn’t find it as arousing as you do but you feel like you could cry from just how overwhelming it all is.

Shaking your head at him as if to say ‘no, you’re not about to cum.’  

“No?” He pouts at you mockingly. “You sure?”

Denying it really doesn’t get you anywhere, especially since he can feel how you tighten around his fingers, how your gooey cunt pulses for him. Your back arching meanly, legs wanting so badly to kick against the air. Hand tugging at his hair as you gasp, broken moans leaving you.

“I mustn’t be doing this right then,” he hums at you in thought, slowing his movements slightly. “Should I stop then? Change up what I’m doing?”

The thought of him stopping now, or changing what he’s doing kills you, almost literally. Your eyes widen and you shake your head vehemently at him. “Don’t stop– hnn– don’t– please,” begging him with your eyes.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nicely,” his tone so sweet on you.

He doesn’t change anything, keeps fucking you with his fingers in the way that’s driving you crazy. His mouth waters at how your pussy gushes for him, dick leaking into his pants. Losing his fucking mind at how he’s able to finally touch you like this, how you’re letting him touch you like this, even begging for it.

Your muscles are pulling taut, hearing and sight going fuzzy. “I– ohh– Sugu I can’t– I’m gonna–”

“You can,” dragging it out in a singsong. “Doing so well for me, pretty.”

Biting on your lip to hold back all the moans tumbling from them, hands pulling at him as you struggle to breathe through it. Chest stuttering as your cunt clamps down around his fingers. Grasping at him and pulling him closer to you, planting your lips on his. Desperately kissing him as you cum all over his fingers. Your tongue licking into his mouth, his own moans spilling into the kiss.

Panting against your open mouth to say, “You just came all over your friends’ fingers.” His smile taunting and bright.

Your head lolls to the side. “So you really do just like teasing me, huh?”

“Pretty sure I said I couldn’t help it.” His fingers slip from your core, sucking them into his mouth, licking them clean in a display so obscene that your skin heats up.

If he were a lesser man, he’d cum from licking himself clean. Groaning around his fingers, mostly for himself but also somewhat to embarrass you. Loving how you squirm, and your face pulls up in embarrassment. All dazed and stupid looking from your orgasm, it makes his heart skip and his dick jerk.

You shock him when you tug your shirt up and over your head, moving to pull at his but he’s too distracted by your tits to make any move other than to lean down and press wet kisses all over your chest.

“Suguru– hah– your shirt.” Your fingers still pull at the fabric.

“You can’t—” He sucks and licks at your nipple, relishing in the reactions and sounds he’s pulling from you. “—You can’t show me your tits and expect me to not touch them.”

When he looks up at you, his eyes are lazy and dazed, his tongue drooling all over your boobs. Moving to plant even more firm and wet smooches all over your unbelievably soft skin, sucking to leave behind his mark. Wanting to leave behind marks that he will see when he wakes up tomorrow, marks that he will leave marks over so that they never go away, so he will always have evidence of how he touched you. Of how you let him touch you.

Groping at all your exposed skin, pulling at you, fingers tugging at your nipple, while he salivates all over the other one. Your legs tug his hips down into yours, rubbing your clothed cunt all over him, wanting him to fuck you so badly. He’s working you up so unfairly, already making you cum and then playing with your tits in a way that has you itching to be full of his dick.

“Suguru.” He ruts his hips back down into you but doesn’t remove his mouth from you, so you pull at his hair harshly. “Please.”

He moans at how you pull at him, eyes lidded. “So demanding.”

“You’re taking too long.”

He tuts at you, nipping lightly at the skin between your tits, “You’re just impatient.”

“Yeah, I am.” untangling your legs from him, you shuffle your shorts and panties down and off your body. “Are you going to help?”

“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The desire to lick at your pussy, make out with your cunt, is huge but with how you look at him, so needy and impatient, he needs to stuff his dick inside you. Now.

When you go to tug at his shirt, he lets you, letting you pull it off him completely. Goose bumps breaking out across his skin with how you rake your nails delicately over him. The affection he holds for you feels like it grows tenfold at how you look at him, how tenderly you touch him.

“You’re so pretty,” you’re mumbling it out at him before you’re really registering that you’ve thought it, let alone spoke it.

His head drops into the crook of your neck. “So sweet on me, got me forgetting why I waited so long to say anything.”

You grin at him. “Because you’re stupid.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he sneers back at you before shuffling back to pull his pants off. Finding immense joy in how your smug little smile drops from your face when his cock is free, tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking profusely, precum dribbling down the sides of his dick.

Moving to get up before even really thinking about it, wanting to touch him. Only to fall into the pillows when his large hand pushes you back by your sternum. Looking to him just as he leans in, lips brushing yours so softly you’d think you’d imagined it if he didn’t immediately follow it up with a firm kiss.

“I want to touch you.” Hands already finding their way back to his shoulders, his long hair tickling against skin.

His head is dipping low to watch how he moves his hands down your body. Brushing against your inner thighs, opening your legs for him more. “Well, I want to fuck you.” He’s not capable of taking his eyes off your syrupy cunt, so wet for him.

Goading him with your words, “What are you waiting for? A formal invitation?”

“Sharp tongue for someone so sensitive,” he muses, fingers slipping through your folds, gently over your clit to make you jolt, as if to prove his point.

Not giving you a chance to say another snarky comment, his fingers dipping into your hole again. His fingers stretch you open obscenely, pulling back covered in cum from your previous orgasm and fresh slick. It’s almost embarrassing how soaked you are, at least it would be if he didn’t seem almost overjoyed at the sight.

His hand covered in your mess moves to his dick, stroking himself, lubing himself so you can take him easier. You want to rub your thighs together, to squirm at how he languidly pumps at his cock, how his brows upturn and his mouth gapes slightly.

His palm so warm against your inner thigh, holding you still. Moving so he can tap his dick against your clit, smiling at how your body jerks.

“Don’t be a tease.” Your hand moves for his, but he grabs at you before you reach him, looping his fingers with yours.

His tone is cheerful and bright, “But you look so cute when you’re frustrated.”

“I’ll leave,” you threaten, not even a little convincingly, way too horny to be taken seriously.

“Really?” He raises a brow at you, intrigued. “I don’t think you’d get very far…” Mocking pout settling on his features.

Nothing if not stubborn and true to your word, you push him back and roll to get out of the bed defiantly. Barely making it to the edge of the mattress when his hands are on your sides and manhandling you back into your previous position. Spreading your legs wide and rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds, just dipping into your hole before repeating the previous movements.

Biting his lower lip as he watches, his precum smearing all over your messy cunt. “Told you, you wouldn’t get very far.”

Your head rolls at how he dips his dick in more, beginning to stretch you open. His hips are stuttering forwards, hand slapping down onto the mattress beside you to stop himself from pushing you too far.

“Oh– oh– fuck! How­– h-how are you this tight, oh,” breathless not even beginning to describe how fucked out he already sounds.

“Mm– more, Sugu, please– I–”

At your insistence, he fucks himself all the way in, holding his pelvis to you as he fills you to the hilt. Your pussy spasming and creaming around him, so worked up that he can feel just how aroused you are in the way you twitch, at how your fingers grab at his skin, how your breaths are uneven and broken.

He can’t help but marvel at how you let out little squealed moans, how your cunt stretches to take all of him. On cloud nine at how you’re so horny over how heavy he’s sitting inside you that you’re close to tears.

The moan he lets out is debauched, unbelievably turned on when your hips struggle to grind down into him needily, working yourself up to an orgasm so fucking fast that he can’t do anything but watch in awe.

You can’t stop yourself; you know you should, should slow down and maybe calm down but it feels so good. He’s so big inside you, his cock pulsing in a way that has you memorising the thumping rhythm. Not usually so eager, never this eager, enthusiastically rutting down into him over and over again before suddenly cumming all over him.

Choked and gasped moans pulled from you as your hands reach for him, hoping for him to let you tug him down into you but he’s too busy watching how you throb and cum all over him. Obsessed with how your cute, little cunt struggles with his size as you coat him in all your creamy cum.

“Holy fuck,” he laughs, “That was—”

Head dizzy and eyes lazy as you whinge at him, “—Don’t– don’t say anything.”

“You came as soon as I got inside you and you expect me to make no comment?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I think it was adorable,” he hums, voice strained, much more effected by it than he’s willing to let on.

You whine when he moves down onto you, cock somehow reaching deeper. Geto’s arms cage you in either side your head, resting on his forearms, his lips against yours in a breathless kiss. Beginning with shallow thrusts, his lips insistent on yours, fucking you so carefully for now.

Quickly, the need to have him fucking you stupid grows within you again and your legs loop around him properly, pulling him into you. Wrapping yourself around him, mouth panting against his.

“Fuck– hah– you’re so wet.” He’s fucking into you faster, hips becoming desperate. “It’s actually– it’s– hnn– it’s crazy how good you feel.” He moves his head to the crook of your neck, growling beside your ear, “such a soaked little cunt, taking it so– ohh– taking it so good.”

“Ah! Ah! Sugu, it’s– ohh– it’s– more– I need more.” Your fingers dig into his back, depraved, wet sloshing sounds of him fucking into you so well fill the room.

He nips at your neck. “Demanding little thing, aren’t you?”

He’s pulling out of you and the moan you let out is small and pathetic, disgruntled by his abrupt movement. The last thing you see is his smug grin before he’s flipping you over onto your stomach, hands pulling your hips up and pushing on your upper back, manoeuvring your body into an obscene arch.

He’s takings his sweet time to slip back inside, eyeing up your pussy and how your hole trembles and drools for him. Your hips wriggle back at him, and he finds himself incredibly amused at how blatantly needy you are, apparently honest with him in more ways than one.

Just as you were about to turn around and complain at how long he’s taking to re-enter you, he’s shoving his cock back in all at once, jolting your body up the bed and forcing a whine out of your lungs.

“Ohh– Sugu– I…” you trail off as his hips pick up, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Sliding your legs further apart to take more of him inside, arching yourself even more, greedy cunt sucking him deep inside. He’s barely able to withdraw before you’re fucking your hips back into him, desperately driving back. So fucking needy that if you had half your mind, you’d be embarrassed but right now all you can think about is how his dick thumps against your walls, how his hands grip onto you tight. He’s probably leaving behind marks to match the ones he left all over your tits.

Mouth gaping open, spit pooling onto the pillow below, drooling over his cock. God, you could cry from just how fucking good it feels. Pussy spasming wildly on him, the more you think about the fact that he’s fucking you, the more worked up you get. Insides flipping at how he seems to touch the most perfect spots inside you, full of butterflies and him.

His mouth by your ear shocks you, his voice chirpy, “What are you– hah– thinking about, pretty?”

“Hah– about how goo– good it feels, feels– ohh– feels so good, Sugu,” your words are slurred, mind reeling at how he doesn’t even seem to slow his pace.

“Flatterer,” he barks out a laugh, “You’re quite the little charmer,” he mockingly compliments. Tongue licking meanly at the salty tears you hadn’t realised you’d shed.

“Shh– shut up– ah!” gasping when he gives a particularly mean thrust into you.

He can’t help but smile at the fucked out look you’re wearing, eyes rolled back, hazy and not comprehending anything other than his dick rubbing up against your walls so perfectly. Your face turns into the pillow and you bite at it, muscles pulling tight as another orgasm crawls up your spine.

It shocks you, how quickly you cum. With Suguru’s harsh thrusts, your ass is burning with the smack of his pelvis against you. The sting biting at your flesh making you feel like you’re on fire, cunt tight around him and orgasm overcoming you so fast that you don’t have time to prepare for it.

And maybe if he hadn’t been caught up in how deliciously you squeeze around him, he’d have time to realise you were coming again and he could stop himself but when you shock the both of you with your sudden orgasm he whines into your back and cums deep inside you. Shivers running down his spine at how it feels, dumping so much deep inside you that the force of his continued thrusts has some of it leaking from you back onto him and down onto the bed, making the obscenest mess he’s ever seen.

Immediately he’s pulling himself back up to see how he’s coated your walls white, his dick covered in your shared cum. Creamy and lewd and he’s not even going soft because how could he when you’re still wrapped so warmly around him. When you’re so fucking gooey and snug. He might die before he’s done fucking you yet and he can’t even find it in himself to care even a little bit.

You’re not capable of forming words together enough to think of making a sentence, only thing coming from you being your garbled, choked moans and the sounds of your plush cunt struggling to take him and all his cum. Pussy bulging with the weight of his cock and the mass amounts of seed he’s just pumped you full of.

His own eyes are lidded and low, pussy drunk and loving every second of it. “So turned on you couldn’t even warn me before you came,” he bites out.

His hand rounds your body and his fingers land on your clit, the overstimulation too much, one of your own hands moving down to try and pry it away. Managing to squeak out, “Too much– ah! Too much, Sugu.”

Tone light when his harsh words are mumbled back at you, “If it’s too much, then why– hnn– why are you fucking back onto me like such a slut?”

He’s so mean, so mean to you while he fucks you so… meanly. Head whirling over how he speaks to you, not even able to think long before he slaps your clit harshly. It’s got your knees buckling, falling into the mattress under him. His dick slips from you as you collapse into the mattress.

Geto doesn’t pick you back up straight away, oh no, because you’re leaking all of his cum out of your little hole onto the bed and he can’t take his eyes off of how much of it he managed to get inside you. It’s you who picks your hips up lazily, presenting yourself for him.

He chuckles at your loyalty to his cock, but he also can’t help the way the sight makes him twitch. Shoving his dick into you again, feral in his pursuit to fuck you, to fuck you full of more of his cum.

“S-so devoted– hnnn– doing such­– hah– a good job for me, pretty,” he slurs.

You feel like you might pass out, so lightheaded but meeting each and every one of his thrusts all the same. An arm wrapping around your front pulls your back to his chest. Both of his hands land on your tits, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples, making your pussy shudder around him.

You want to fuck your hips back recklessly but not able to with this angle, only able to arch further and give shallow grinds while he fucks his hips into you. He plants kisses and bites along your neck, nipping your skin hard enough that you twitch and whine each time he does it.

One hand leaves your tit and trails down your front, going for your cunt, spreading wide around where he’s stuffing you full continuously. Getting an absolute mess all over his hand and fingers, only to shove those fingers into your mouth, leaving you to lick him clean. Crammed full by his dick and fingers at once, convulsing around him at the thought of it, at the reality of it.

“You like being stuffed full, huh?” He muses to you, an evil kind of joy in his tone. You don’t get to choose your own response, he’s already using the fingers he has in your mouth to nod your head yes. “Ah, thought so.”

Pulling his fingers from your mouth slowly to watch how you suck on them as he does, before he’s wiping all your spit down your chest to your tummy. And then he has another hand on the back of your neck and is pushing you down into the pillows again, this time he keeps his hand there while he fucks into you diabolically.

Somehow faster than before, relentless, reaching his own end and wanting you to cum all over him at least once more. Head dipping back as he groans out, thrusts harsh and calculated. Hitting all the spots he’s just learnt about, having memorised just how to make you fucking squirm for him.

Which he succeeds in, if he didn’t have the hand on the back of your neck, you would’ve crawled up the bed to try and get away from his evil thrusts. Poor abused pussy creaming around him for the fourth time, orgasm blinding you, only seeing white spots behind your eyelids.

The sounds he lets out are wrecked and beautiful and have you wishing that you weren’t cumming so violently if only to see the way he’s spilling inside you for the second time tonight.

“That’s it– fuck– take it– taking it so fucking well– holy fuck—” Every word he utters is breathless and broken, essentially fucking himself stupid too.

Taking a moment for himself to catch his breath before he’s slipping from you and pulling your ass cheeks apart to watch how his cum dribbles from your overfilled cunt. You try to wiggle away but he holds you steady, eyes trained on your dipping hole. Overcome with the desire to fuck his tongue inside you but instead settling for shoving two fingers inside, plugging your hole to keep his cum in.

You whine at him, and he can only chuckle and find you incredibly cute in your post orgasm bliss. Barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone speak right now.

He does eventually pull his fingers from you, wiping the mess on your thighs before turning you onto your back. It feels like you’re looking up at an angel as he looks down at you, or maybe the devil. All flush and sweet smiles, too sweet for a man that just fucked you within an inch of your life.

“You can’t smile at me like that, not after you almost killed me,” you babble back at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, “There you go overreacting again.”

“You fuck so mean, Sugu,” you accuse… accurately.

A smile grows on his face again. “Feels real good though, doesn’t it?”

You weakly slap at him, he just grabs your hand and tugs your body into his kneeling form, hugging you to him. Pressing kisses all over your face. “Think you can stand long enough to shower?”

Shaking your head at him, “Not without fainting.”

“Alright, bath it is,” he concludes.

He takes such nice care of you afterwards, a complete contrast to how he fucked you. It’s lovely though, the hands that grabbed and pulled at you now delicate as they trace over your skin, washing you clean.  

You rest with your back to his front in the bath, head laying lazily on his chest. “So… for the sake of clarity, we’re not just friends?”

His lips tickle against the tip of your ear. “I can fuck you all over again if you need more proof?”

“I fear you might actually kill me.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.” He leaves a single kiss against your cheek.

In the morning, for the first time ever, he makes you breakfast. To make up for all the marks he’s littered your body with. He also officially asks you on a date, which you pretend to think really hard about even though you’d already decided you were going to say yes.

In the end, being friends with Geto Suguru wasn’t hard… it’s just not what you both wanted.

𝒂.𝒏. THIS IS A REPOST .. a repost from my old account @/lovelivision, if you feel like you've read it before, maybe you have !

thank you for reading !!! i hope you guys liked it and i hope everyone is doing so good >:3

‎꒰‎꒰. all works are the intellectual property of aliienangel .. do not plagiarise/translate/reupload/feed to ai ♡. 。

[sweethearticism]

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ── 𝓖.SATORU

𝒇𝒕. nurse!reader

♡.. the 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓'𝐒 favourite pass-time after a gruelling mission? medical malpractice with his shy slutty nurse!

𝓒w. f. reader ⋮ smut ⋮ public sex ⋮ dirty-talk ⋮ panty fetish ⋮ humping ⋮ clit play ⋮ thigh fucking ⋮ size difference ⋮ slight asphyxiation ⋮ spanking

𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻'𝑺 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑺𝑬 than fucking your nurse fresh off of a mission?

… Uh. Not fucking your nurse?

In Satoru's defence, this was your fault. With those soft hands, those concerned eyes. And if you both really boiled it down to technicalities— who was the one who spotted the lil' tent in his pants?

That's right. Little Miss Pink Panties.

"Fuck these are cute." A sly finger coiled around the waistband, snapping it back into your angel skin.

Your stiffled whine was cuter. But what took the cake were your shaky knees.

You're pressed to the white infirmary wall. Pale uniform dress hiking with his large, mischievous hand feeling up your ass. Thumbing on the cleft.

"Satoru you're injured."

"And you're so wet."

He emphasised your squeak with a firm grind of his hips. Nursing the tent in his black pants.

Six eyes never lied, and right now? Your body was confessing all her nasty desires.

"Don't think I miss those damp thighs, sweetheart. Making a pretty mess for me, eh?"

The hand snakes around you, two fingers tracing your panties. Dancing right above your clit. His towering body flushed into yours. Wrapping you in his warmth, his scent, the all-consuming prowess of the Strongest's cursed energy.

Impatience urged him to unbuckle his belt. Using his other hand to nudge his already-leaking cock from his boxers, he occupied his fingers with the hot throbs of your clit.

Oh. Now that was a cute sound.

Satoru's blues dilated behind his blindfold. Wounds long forgotten. Lost in the sight of your pretty ass swaying back into him.

His digits stroked down. Tracing the outline of your swollen cunt. "Heh. Look at you. Takin' advantage of the injured?"

"You—" your indignant gasp widened his grin. "You started this!"

"Actually, these pretty panties did…" toying with the edge, he hummed. "After all, you were the one who bent over."

You huffed. He felt it against his chest.

"Pervert."

"Yeah?"

Cunning teeth traced your ear. Grinning into its warm fluster.

"Your the one twitching that cute lil' clit."

Fingers pinched. Tugging on the bud.

He used your jolt to his advantage. Timing the momentum to easily slip his cock between your thighs. The smooth glide over his pulsing veins scraped a hiss from the back of his throat.

Warm. Wet. Seeping into him and melting his mind to mush. Fuck. And he's the sinner here?

Your palms flattened on the wall. He watched your nails dig into it. Clawing as he found the perfect pace for a slow, nasty grind. Squishing your ass into his powerful hips and smearing your panties in slick.

Lace formed the perfect friction. Combined with your wetness to stir him into a slow rock. Cock sliding in-and-out, in-and-out. Gliding through the velvet of your thighs.

Hands wandered. One cupped your breast, thumbed on your perking nipple through that white dress that now looked too tight.

It was amusing, watching you try to decide whether to push into his palm on arch back into his dick.

"Getting desperate for it eh? What a slutty nurse we got here." Satoru's laugh was infuriatingly handsome. Deep, rich and dripping with sin as he dropped a hand to your panties, slipped them to the side.

His cock tucked into the fabric, heavy and throbbing into your swollen flesh. A ragged breath fanned above your scalp. Emphasising your drastic size difference.

"Fuck."

Dark shoes nudged under your heels, pushing you further onto your tippy toes. Squishing you flushed into him. Into the heat of his swollen cock ground eagerly between your thighs. "Mm. Think you're doing an amazing job. Can't feel a fucking thing other than this pretty pussy."

A sharp spank clapped through the quiet room. Joined by his hushed grunts and your whined moans. Each time he drove forward, your pelvis pressed further into the wall. Effectively trapping you between a literal rock and hard place. The cold chill of the sterile white— and the all-consuming heat pouring from his strong body.

Pulsing to the beat of your clit, Satoru's dick slotted between your folds. Rolling over the bud and stringing a sticky mess all over. Some gooped down your thighs. Dripped to the floor in a filthy puddle. .

When your moans stuttered louder, a hand slapped over your mouth. Suffocating you on his infuriatingly soft palm as he shoved the back of your head into his chest. Urging the perfect arch for his hips to smack just right against your ass.

Plap.

Plap.

Plap!

"Sshhh baby. This pussy's gonna send you to HR. That what you want?" His breath husked your ear. Cock strokes maddening to your spasming nerves.

"Medical malpractice with the Strongest? Oh imagine the gossip."

"Toru— hngh."

"Oh? That excite you?"

Another spank! His hand squeezed against your pitiful moan. Muffling your sweet calls of his name. Dancing that tender line of asphyxiation. All the better for him. He wanted you dizzy. Cross-eyed. Focused on nothing but his thick cock fucking your pretty thighs.

Panties smeared and messy, webbed in pre and your slippery pussy. Making his grinds all the nastier. "In that what're we waiting for?"

He husked, dragging his tip to your leaky slit. A thumb slipped down to spread it open, trickle your slick.

His voice rumbled. Drawling to your ear in that spine-shivering whisper.

"Maybe I should bully this sweet cunt here and now. Consider it…"

Big hands squished your thighs tight as he drove between your them. Amping the pressure into a dizzying sensation of his cock meshing on your trembling clit. All while you hiccuped and scrambled. Pressed to the wall and used by the Honoured One.

He chewed on your earlobe. Antagonising a shaky orgasm right out of you. And while your legs trembled and you croaked out his name, he cooed.

"Vital for my wellbeing. Now— pull those panties to the side for me."

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. do not copy my fic layout. divider: @uzmacchiato

𔘓 enjoyed this piece? consider joining my patreon or commissioning me <3 I appreciate all the support!

𔘓. sweetheart nation we are so back <3 ogs will remember the heart divider, have we missed it? I thought some familiarity would do us some good!

[aliienangel]

　GREEDY FOR MORE.ᐟ　 ..　st⁠☆rring　 ..　𝓕, toji. 𝓖, suguru. 𝓖, satoru. 𝓗, hiromi. 𝓚, choso. 𝓢, ryomen

summary： ‎‎ ‎❤︎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎pussy drunk and so obsessed they're behaving downright greedily, just how will you fare against them when they're not thinking sensibly? ꒰ 5.1k ꒱

cw‎‎ ‎ ‎‎⤷ 𖥻‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎. ‎‎˖ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ꒰ m‎‎dni ꒱ ‎‎‎‎. smut . dirty talk . overstim . multiple o's . clit slapping . biting/marking . c pie . piv . afab!reader . no prns‎

꒰　❤︎　　　　𝓕ushiguro 𝓣oji

It’s hot, the room is hot, Toji is hot, you’re hot, it’s hot and you can barely think. His huffed breaths warm against your neck, his hips relentless, hammering into you with reckless abandon, so far gone and still in pursuit of more.

Making such a mess, the combination of your shared previous orgasms drooling from your cunt with every thrust he makes. Lewd slapping sounds filling the room with the force of his every movement, ravenous and unwilling to stop.

Panting against your skin, hands pushing your legs down. He’s folding you in half under him, moving you how he pleases, how he needs. “Doing so good– hah– for me, messy little thing.”

“I can’t keep going, Toji– mmph– it’s too much.” Your eyes are burning with tears. The overstimulation becoming too much for you, so fucked full that it’s beginning to make your head spin.

“Don’t be silly.” He nips at your neck before licking at the length of it. “Of course you can keep going…” pulling back to look you in the eyes and oh, he looks so utterly fucked, dumb and happy look in his eyes, “‘Cause I’m not fucking done yet.” Punctuating the end of his sentence with a harsh slam of his hips.

He’s not pulling out yet, not when you’re so soft and warm, creamy pussy pulsing around him, sucking him in so divinely. How could he finish now when he’s this obsessed with your sweet, little cunt.

Your tears are only spurring him on, loving how wrecked you look. His dick twitching at your small sobs and whines, so overwhelmed by your own pleasure. Leaning in to kiss you hotly, deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, moans shared in it, each sound he swallows down.

Never stopping his hips, pelvis hitting your clit with every re-entry. Your mind is all foggy, hands clawing at his back, hoping it gives you some kind of reprieve. Legs starting to burn with how they’re thrown over his shoulders, too far gone to really register it.

You’re moving your hands so you can tug at his hair, pulling him back by it. Connected by a string of spit, snapping when he licks his lower lip. You’re not even sure if he’s all there anymore, eyes glazed and lidded, pace faltering when he looks you in the eyes.

Toji’s head dips to watch how he fucks into you, groaning aloud at how messy it is, how obscene it is. Balls pulling tight at how your cunt has him coated in white. “God, I’m gonna fucking die,” words coming rushed and mumbled. Hips speeding up, barely pulling out before fucking back in. “Gotta keep going– hah – can’t stop, don’t wanna– hnnn– stop, don’t make me stop, please.”

His gaze never leaving your cunt, something deeply possessive bubbling inside him at how your pussy bulges around his cock. He doesn’t want to stop, never wants to stop fucking you, breaths rushed and nearly panting like a damn dog. You’re doing so good for him, always so good, almost too good.

Your grip pulls his head up to look at you again, his eyes wet and skin flushed so pink. Worrying his lower lip by biting into it, so desperate to keep going. “Last one,” you condition.

“So cruel…” he groans pathetically, one of his own hands reaching out and holding the side of your face. “Fine.” His thumb wiping at one of your tears, “Better make it count then, huh?” He brings that thumb to his mouth and sucks your salty tear from it.

Eyes growing wide at his words, confused by what he means before understanding suddenly and all at once. Somehow, his thrusts harsher, controlled, angled specifically to hit against the one spot that has you going fucking insane.

Almost sobbing from how good it feels—too good—nails clawing down his arms, breath stuttered and rushed. Completely shocked by his force, left struck dumber than him at it. His lazy smirk, drunk and proud, eyes nearly rolling back at how tightly you’re suddenly gripping him.

You’re already so close for him, not even with it enough to be embarrassed over it. Though, you’ve both been far gone for a while now, how you can even still huff out pleas is beyond you. “Too mu– ah ah, too much, Toji– please, slo—”

“If you can– hmm– still talk then I’m not doing it– hah– it right,” he bites out, concrete in his sentiments.

Manoeuvring your legs down, pressing into the back of your knees, leaning back. Almost falling apart at the sight of you spread so open for him, so beyond wrecked, so soft. God, he might not pull out, might try and convince you to let him keep going, he might beg for it.

Pistoning down into you, “Just one more, right?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Let’s see how long I can hold out for then,” he smiles large and languid. Evil in his intent. Sure, it will be his last orgasm but that doesn’t mean it will be soon.

꒰　❤︎　　　　𝓖eto 𝓢uguru

Pressed close to Geto with his arms wrapped around you, chest sweaty against him. Sitting nicely in his lap, his hips fucking up into you not so nicely. His cum is leaking back down his shaft and into his lap from your overstuffed pussy.

You’re limp on him, however many orgasms deep, having lost count a long time ago. Geto keeps making you cum though, over and over and over—

Geto’s obsessed with how it feels, how it feels when you cum around him. Your sweet cunt gripping him so tightly, sucking him in deeper. Needing to feel it, loving it too much, hungry for more. Bordering on feral for it, losing his ability to consider his next moves, only really driving his hips up repeatedly, hoping he’s driving you just as crazy as you’re driving him.

Your plush walls tight around his throbbing cock, his hands spread your ass cheeks to fuck himself in deeper, eyes nearly rolling back at it. Choosing to nuzzle his head into your neck, panting his moans against your skin, teeth nipping at you.

Your hands thread shakily through his hair, tugging his head back. “Sugu– I can’t– you need to– hah– slow down.”

“Don’t wanna,” he bites back. Head drooped and eyes a hazy fucked out as he looks at you. “Feels too good– hnnn– so good,” Mouth gasping for air when your hand tugs harshly at his hair.

Eyes teary when you plead, “Can’t take anymore– mmph– it’s too—”

“It’s fine, you’re fine, you—” Hips stuttering when you grip him tighter at the sound of his wrecked voice, his moans cutting himself off. “Fuuck– always take it so well.”

Suddenly feeling dizzy as he manoeuvres you both so he can be on top of you, heavy cock barely leaving you before he’s stuffing you full again. Pace wild and quicker, forcing all the air out of your lungs with it.

Legs kicking at the delicious sting of overstimulation, his pelvis smacking into your clit with every angled thrust. Wrapping your limbs around him to hold on for dear life, his large hands on your waist, tugging you back and forth, fucking you like a toy.

In all honesty, Geto feels like he might fucking pass out, head foggy and fucked out but needing to feel more of you, all of you. Your small whimpers and pleads fall on deaf ears, he’s not listening, not when you’re sucking him back in before he even really gets a chance to pull out.

You’re getting impossibly tighter around him, his groans breathless, hips struggling to continue fucking you at the pace he wants. “You’re gonna– oh fuck– you’re gonna cum again, can fuckinn feel it,” words pushed out through his teeth, shivers running down his spine.

Your eyes are screwed shut, “I don’t– hnnn– know if I can– ah!”

“You can and you are,” he chuckles humourlessly at how pathetic you sound, so utterly ruined. “Poor thing– hnnn– so fucking wet, so sloppy, making a fucking mess everywhere and this cunt is still creaming for more– ah fuck.”

You’re cumming around him violently, pussy throbbing on his dick, hips struggling to move away from it all but it’s of no use. Geto is holding you firmly, still fucking you through it. Mouth hung open and eyes rolled back while he dances on cloud nine, fucking delighted by how hard you’re cumming for him.

Barely even slowing his pace before ramming into you again with a renewed vigour, your body wracked and shaking with your aftershocks. Everything feels like jelly, your limbs, mind, everything. Your cheeks a mess, stained wet with your tears, embarrassingly drooling a little.

“Pick a number,” he grunts roughly, tone shaky even to his ears.

You huff against him, hands scrabbling for purchase on his back, your own barely even on the bed. Nearly all your weight is being supported by his hands, words slurred as you manage to struggle out a small, “W–what?”

“Pick a– hnn– a number, now.”

Sobbing out a confused, “Three?”

You can hear the grin in his tone, incredibly excited, “Alright, three more– fuck– three more orgasms from you.”

That leaves you stunned, widening in shock and shaking your head against him, trying to pull away, “No, no no, I can’t– I can’t, Sugu.”

He licks cruelly at your cheeks, collecting the tears that had stained them. “‘Course you can,” he huffs out through his nose, amused, “You picked the number after all.”

Not letting you argue against him, lips on yours. Suffocating any words you had for him, tongue licking at your own. You can’t breathe against him; he’s not pulling back for air enough. When he does pull back, he’s ecstatic at just how fucked you look, pressing a soft peck to your lips.

“Three more, you can do it– hah– always so good for me,” he praises, still completely unwilling to pull out, he needs to feel it, your cunt snug around him, pulsing as you cover him in fresh slick, he fucking needs it.

꒰　❤︎　　　　𝓖ojo 𝓢atoru

Face stuffed into the plush bedding below as Gojo fucks into you from behind. His cock coated in your combined orgasms, completely obscene and depraved. Bright eyes locked on where he’s stuffing you full, downright hypnotised by the sight.

Free hand gripping at your ass cheek, pulling you open just to get a better view. His knees knocking yours open more, leaving your back arching for him even more. It’d be entirely embarrassing how exposed and obedient you were being… if you were even capable of a singular coherent thought.

“So good– holy fuck,” Gojo’s laughing breathlessly at how your cunt spasms around him at the sounds of his voice, “I’m dying before I pull out, can’t– oh!” Hips stuttering and words dying on his tongue when he catches how your pussy drools onto the bedsheets below, his and your cum both leaking from you in thick globs.

He’s not leaving any time soon, obsessed with the view, with how it feels. It’s lewd how wet and sticky everything is. Not sure when the next time you’re going to let him fuck you like this will be and incredibly unwilling to cut this experience short.

Wearing a large smile on his face, eyes brilliant and filled with a fucked kind of delight. His body is leaning down over yours to speak into your ear, “I bet,” he licks at the tip of your ear before nipping it, voice low as he continues, “You’re getting close again,” he tuts against you, “So greedy.”

“‘Toru, I–” speech abruptly ending with the swift smack he delivers to your clit, jolting your body forward, choked whine leaving you with it. Your pussy seizing against your will, cumming just like he knew you would, if his amused laughs are anything to go by.

“Ohh fuck! That’s it– holy shit– hnnn–” His words are spoken over a smile, completely wrecked but also completely excited over it.

His dick twitching wildly with how tight you grip him, he’s cumming from how much slicker and tighter you get. Dumping his heavy load deep inside you, barely even stopping his thrusts. Just stuffing your already overfilled pussy, leaning back to stare at your poor abused cunt bulging around him.

Gojo’s biting his lip to hold back all his own ruined noises, hoping to keep the illusion of control when he’s all too aware of how completely pussy drunk he is. If you threatened to stop him now, he might actually cry, whipped and desperate to keep fucking into you.

Pulling out only to watch the way his cum gushes out of you, eyes sparkling at it, hand leaving the back of your neck so he can use the both of them to pull you open, your cunt jumping and hips trying to wiggle away from him.

“No, no, nonono, you’re not going anywhere,” guiding himself back to your hole, shoving himself inside and bottoming out quickly, “Nooo, we’re not done, fuck– never be done.”

So quick to resume fucking you like he’s feral, his hands gripping and pulling at you everywhere. Obsessively worshipping your body in the most depraved manner he’s capable of.

Leaning in again just to bite at your shoulders and neck, leaving marks everywhere he can possibly reach. Relishing in the way you twitch and whine for him, truly feeling the most debilitating need to keep fucking you.

Desperately rutting into you, eyes glazed over and lost, head heavy as he leans into you. His hands tugging you back against him by your hips. “Feels too good– fuck, what the fuck– hah—” Just about losing his mind over how good it feels.

Your small and wrecked voice calls for him, spit drooling from the corner of your mouth, “You need to– ah! ah!– ‘Toru, it’s too much!” it’s so overwhelming, all the pleasure shooting through your veins.

“Shhh, no no, please don’t– hah–” Pulling back just to pull you up with him, cock never leaving your tight heat as his chest hits your back. Using his hands to roam the front of your body, groping at you. “Don’t say that, not enough– never be enough–”

His fingers moving down your body to rub messy circles into your clit, the sudden stimulation almost knocking you over, only held up by Gojo’s hand on your chest. Loud whimpers pulled from your chest, feeling completely limp against him, eyes wet and crying.

“More, I need more, more more.” He’s practically begging you to cum again, mouth right by your ear, “You can give me more, right? Please pleasepleaseplease.” Pathetic in how he’s asking.

“I– I dunno ‘Toru,” you whinge, words slurred.

“I think you can,” fingers speeding up on your clit, wicked and fucked out smile on his face at how your eyes roll back in your head, mouth dropping open.

You’d fold in on yourself completely if Gojo wasn’t still holding you up, your orgasm rocking through your body, hips caught between trying to get away from him and fucking back onto his cock.

He’s going insane, fucking you through it and holding you tightly so you can’t get away. He needs to keep going, keep feeling how you pulse and cream all over him, he could swear he’d die if he doesn’t. His eyes are pricking, the urge to cry hitting him softly. And with how you’re cumming on him, he’s too distracted to hold back.

Still, his fingers aren’t letting up, dancing over your clit deliciously. The overstimulation becoming too much for you, making you whine pathetically. You’re trying to tell him it’s too much; that’s it feels too good, that it hurts. He’s too preoccupied, though, completely aware of what he’s doing, just hoping to get another orgasm out of you before you pass out.

Succeeding in his endeavours, large, diabolical smile breaking out across his face at how he pulls another orgasm out of you so soon after the other, “That’s it– fuck, fuck– that’s it, so good, sooo good.”

You’re shaking your head against him, telling him no more, to which, he thankfully does pull his fingers away from your poor abused clit. His thrusts don’t stop though, obsessively driving forwards, letting you flop back into the mattress just to lay his weight over the top of you, pressed close.

His cock twitches inside you, sensitive and still aching for so much more. Voice cracking in his desperation, “Jus’ a lil’ more, hmm?”

꒰　❤︎　　　　𝓗iguruma 𝓗iromi

Higuruma is all flushed skin and dazed eyes under you, nearly baring his teeth as you continue to ride him. After office hours becoming a time for you two to share debauched moments in an empty office. His chair squeaking and coated in a sheen of slick from your sopping wet pussy.

Your knees might be starting to ache but the look on Higuruma’s face is enough motivation to keep going. The pair of you have already both shared an orgasm, his cum weeping from your hole into his lap crudely. It’s messy and will be a pain to clean up but it’s hot and so delicious that it’s worth it.

He’s losing himself in how it feels to have you speared open on his dick. Head rocking back against his office chair as he looks down his nose at you. Obsessively watching how you ride, up and down repeatedly.

“Look at you go,” he hums. You’re stuttering at his comment, suddenly a little self-conscious but he’s tapping your thigh. “Don’t– hng– don’t slow down,” sucking on his teeth, “Was a compliment, don’t stop.”

Not really one to beg but he might start if you don’t pick back up the pace. The way you pulse around him is addictive and he can’t get enough of it. Needing you to keep moving because he feels like his heart is aching in his chest when you stop.

But you keep slowing, the position finally getting to you. Weak from your orgasm and the throbbing in your knees. “Hiromi,” you pout, “I can’t—”

He’s grumbling back at you, “—Poor thing.” Manhandling you so he can spin you around and have you sitting on his dick again. Both arms tugging under your knees and opening you wide, folding you in half. “Can’t even ride me for that long, it’s too hard.”

You’re being mocked, you know you are. But you’re also being split apart and held open by him, forced into a full nelson so quick you can hardly believe it. If anyone was staying late and decided to walk in right now, there’d be no covering it up. Painfully obvious just how depraved you and Higuruma are together.

Neck tickling as he buries his face against it, “You ready for me?”

“Uh huh,” you nod a little dumbly.

Able to feel the slight smile drawing across his lips, “Good.”

Then, you’re being positively ruined, lungs pushing out pitiful mewls for him. Insides throbbing on him, snugly clinging to his shaft as he pummels your insides. His tip kissing your womb lovingly.

Rendered stupid, fingers clawing at the leather armrests. You can’t even run from the onslaught of pleasure. Pinned in place and forced to take it. All because Higuruma has gotten dizzily obsessed with how you grip him sweetly.

“Fuck– I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he mumbles against you. “Been thinking of this pussy wrapped around me for hours.”

“Oh God,” you’re almost panting, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it.” Hips slamming upwards a little harsher, like he got excited about it. “Don’t hold– hmm– hold back, plan on giving you so many more.”

Twitching around him at his words. “No– I—”

Moaning as another orgasm rushes through you, head feeling all light and fuzzy. Pulsing hot and wet around Higuruma with it, knocking an almost whimper from him. A small sound that makes you shake and shiver.

You’ve never heard him this desperate or ruined before, you’re used to being the greedy one but with how he’s repeatedly slamming into you and huffing small moans. Right now, it’s him being greedy.

And he knows he’s being greedy, a desperate mess, but he can’t help it. In love with the silk plushness of your walls hugging him. Delighting in your dazed expression, off in the clouds as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

A swift topic change from him. “How many hours did we work today… twelve?”

Barely able to keep up with what he’s asking, belatedly humming out a soft, “…Yeah?”

“Twelve more orgasms,” he says, “for all the hours I thought about being balls deep inside you.”

A thrill runs through you, a mix of excitement and fear. “There’s– hng– there’s no way I can—”

“—Don’t worry,” he coos. “One more now and then we’ll go home and finish there.”

And from his tone of voice and throbbing cock, you know he’s being dead serious.

꒰　❤︎　　　　𝓚amo 𝓒hoso

This was just meant to be you riding him, something for him to enjoy, something for you to knock his socks off with but it’s quickly devolved into him holding your body flat to his. His hips are rutting desperately up into you, using his arms around you as leverage to have your pussy slammed back and forth on his aching cock.

Fucking orgasm after delicious orgasm out of the both of you, though yours are just a consequence of his relentless bucking, not really aiming to fuck you properly, hips just mindlessly chasing his own pleasure.

“Sorry, m’sorry, ‘m so sorry,” he mumbles over and over, feeling bad for taking away your control but needing to use you to fuck himself how he pleases.

You felt too wet, too tight, too hot wrapped so snugly around him. Your pace wasn’t fast enough, he wasn’t hitting deep enough, he just needed so much more, he needed to fuck you until he’s blind. He needed to be able to hold your body tight and fuck himself stupid, he’ll let you ride him next time, he promises.

“Cho– I– it’s okay,” you manage to force out. Spit dribbling into the corner of his neck, completely dumb on his dick.

“I’ll let you– hnnn– fuck me properly next time– hah– I promise.” He’s pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, a complete opposition to how he’s using you so meanly.

Hands moving down your body to your ass, gripping you, forcing you up and down in time with his thrusts. Moans leaving him in a choked manner, trying to hold back and failing miserably. Sounding so pathetic even to himself but not really caring, not when your cunt only drips more for him, gripping him tighter.

His abs tense and squeeze, it all feels too good, too much, and he’s hooked. Completely drunk and desperate for more. So fucking desperate it’s embarrassing, eyes wet and glassy, like he might shed tears just from how good it all feels.

Hold tight on your soft skin, places that will hurt tomorrow. Hoping his hands will ground himself but only driving him wilder at just how unbelievably soft you are, skin delicate. His nails are probably puncturing it, leaving crescent shapes behind.

Choso’s cock is so hard it hurts, twitching and throbbing inside you, you can feel it, the tempo of it. The thought alone dizzying, it has you pulling at his hair which makes him moan, hips jumping, “Need– hnnnn– need so much more, need it all, need to stuff you so full you can’t breathe.” He’s not even sure if he’s making sense, words rushed and completely horny.

“Do it then– hah—” You’re goading him, giving him the permission. Just to see what he does, to see how much more he can ruin himself and you along with him.

He rolls the both of you, the air leaving your lungs at the switch, his arm quick to hold your knee up and over his shoulder. Holding you open in an obscene display, his dick back inside you so fast you don’t even have time to think about it.

“Sorry, m’sorry, sorry– hah– but,” his brow is creased as he fucks into you, head dipping to see how fucked full you are. His cock is opening you up lewdly, leaving his chest stuttering at the sight, messy and creamy, “I need it– fuck– I need it so bad,” his voice pitched and pathetic.

Every time he thrusts into you, his pelvis grinds into your clit, your pussy jumping and eyes almost rolling every time, your hips trying to meet his. His hand forces your lower half down, “Just– stay fuckin still,” determined to make you cum, “Let me do this– hnnnn– let me fuck you how I like.”

His words have you shuddering, the most feral you’ve ever seen him. Not usually so demanding, usually allowing you to do as you please in bed. His eyes are dark though, needing something from you that you can’t give but he can certainly take.

The glazed over and fucked out look in his eyes has you breathless and his insistent thrusts have you cumming in a similar breathless manner. Only able to smack at his chest lightly to try and warn him, words not forming.

Choso whines at how you cream on him, at just how much messier it all gets, how much slicker. Not slowing his thrusts though, fucking back into you at the same pace. Pushing down on your stomach though, to watch all of his cum that’s still inside you leak back out around him. Sinful in nature, having his eyes rolling into his head, cumming just from that.

Cumming inside you deeply, balls heavy and cock twitching as he pumps rope after rope of his load inside you. Then, he’s leaning down to rest his forehead on yours, pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles. You’re not sure why until you realise, he’s not stopped, hips slowed to a small rock but not stopping. “Need more.”

꒰　❤︎　　　　𝓢ukuna 𝓡yomen

Feeling completely dumb under Sukuna as he fucks you how he needs, uncharacteristically clingy as he presses himself as close to you as he can physically get. Broad chest holding you down, hips pinning yours. Euphoria shuddering through your body as he pummels your g-spot, whinging a bit as his teeth dig against your shoulder.

“Perfect little thing,” he compliments through a hiss. Licking over the mark his teeth left in your soft skin.

The lewd squelching of your drooling pussy getting fucked so good fills the room. Those sounds only turn Sukuna on more, his moans rumbling from his chest to you. He’s already cum in you three times, overfilling your snug cunt with his heavy loads. Desperately rutting against you, marking you as his own.

Your whines are ruining him; his head already dizzy with how gooey you are for him. Choosing to slot his lips over yours, kissing you deep and frenzied. His tongue licking at yours as he swallows down every noise you give him.

When your cunt squeezes around him and cums so sinfully sweet, he breaks the kiss. Forehead bumping yours as he sputters out choked moans. “That’s it,” he sighs. Never stopping his thrusts, “Give it all to me.”

“‘Kuna, I’m– hng– I’m too sensitive,” words coming all breathless.

“I know,” he grins, “it feels fucking fantastic.”

When you’re all worked up and jumpy on him, it feels unreal. The soft pulsing of your walls driving him crazy, he’s not convinced he could stop his hips if he tried. And he doesn’t want to try. Too lost in the feel, the sensational bliss, to think of stopping without feeling anguished by it.

He bumps your cheek with his own, affectionate. Only to follow up cruelly with, “We’re gonna have this perfect cunt cumming on me until you pass out.”

It might be soon; you’re quickly getting delirious from how much he’s taking from you. His needy state leaving you in shambles and yet, you’re somehow craving more. The intimacy that’s coming with his neediness making your heart soar.

“Don’t lose focus,” he snaps his hips harshly.

You’re choking on a moan at the force of it, head tipping backwards as you shake. You’ve already reached your peak so many times, you’re left raw and exposed. Every nerve ending on fire and susceptible to rendering you a mess at any kind of stimulation. Orgasms coming so much quicker now that you’re kept on edge practically the whole time.

“You gotta pay attention.” Eyes locking with yours. “Pay attention to everything I’m doing to you.” He slows his hips down to a grind. “Feel how my tip rubs against your cervix.”

His canines show in his wicked smile, happy with your shuddering reaction. The words he’s speaking turning you into more of a pathetic mess. Your gaze all docile and weepy, tears clinging to your pretty lashes.

Taunting you now, “Hmm, getting all hot from how my pelvis grinds against your clit?”

“Oh my– ‘Kuna, I can’t.” your nails bite at his shoulders, everything inside you buzzing at his voice.

“Don’t tell lies,” he chastises.

You’re cumming again, tummy doing flips as he basically draws it out of you by talking. Holding onto him tightly as you tremble under his large form.

Sukuna’s cumming right after you, more of his seed filling your already bloated pussy. Leaving it to dribble back down the shaft of him, creamy mess coating his cock. He’s getting up to his knees just so he can look at it, his immeasurable greed making him desire the sight of you being used and marked by him.

Pulling his dick out, just for a moment. Watching all his cum drool from you quickly at the loss of his cock keeping it plugged inside you. Guiding himself back to your hole, but not before collecting what he can of his spend and shoving it back in alongside himself.

You’re still twitching from your orgasm, and it feels divine, his eyes rolling in his skull because this is exactly what he loves about getting you this overstimulated. All fucked out and ruined but your pussy is still sucking him in desperately.

“Wait.” Holding your hand out to ask him to pause.

He sinks balls deep inside you but stops at your command, taking your hand in his larger one, holding you so gently. “What?”

Voice weak and fucked out, “I need a moment.”

“Okay,” he kisses your palm, “a moment.”

And he doesn’t mind waiting that moment because you’re still wrapped so snug and warm around his cock. Sweetly pulsing and stimulating enough that he’s about to cum just from sitting inside you as deep as he can get.

α.η. THIS IS A REPOST .. a repost from my old account @/lovelivision, if you feel like you've read it before, maybe you have !

i've added higuruma and sukuna though, they previously weren't included :3 fun fact : i almost didn't include sukuna because i was tired tn and wanted to post but i pulled through for you guys.. also if sukuna and higuruma feel different from the others it's because the rest of them were written in like 2024 😭 i did clean them up though

okie done yapping, i hope you enjoyed !!!

‎꒰‎꒰. all works are the intellectual property of aliienangel.. do not plagiarise/translate/reupload/feed to ai ♡. 。

[6x-x9]

.˚𓈒✦ ݁･˖ 𝓖. 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 ݁･✧𓈒˚. uses a dildo as punishment on his most loyal follower instead of the real thing. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊 ꒰𓈒𝒇. 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⋮⋮ 𝑪𝒖𝒍𝒕!𝑳𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒖𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒖 ⋮⋮ p in v ⋮⋮ sex toy ⋮⋮ 𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 ⋮⋮ denied orgasm ꒱ 𝑩𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 : 𝒂𝒔𝒌

You stand where you always stand.

Just off his left shoulder. Close enough that the hem of your sleeve brushes the dark fabric of his Gojo-kesa when he shifts. Far enough that no one mistakes the distance for equality.

Suguru’s violet eyes find you without searching. They linger. The way they always do. A slow drag from the soft line of your mouth to the pulse at your throat and back again. The room is full of voices, followers murmuring praise and reports, but the noise softens whenever his gaze settles on you. Something in his shoulders eases. The sharp edge of command dulls just enough to low exhales of breath.

You've never spoken against him. Never offered a correction. Never lifted your chin in challenge. He's the one who knows best. The one who decides every move. Why would anyone need to advise a man who moves through the world as if every path already belongs to him?

You're not a soft thing in his eyes. Never that. You're simply beautiful. Proper. A follower who understands her place so completely that the place itself becomes sacred. He keeps the "filthy" ones around for the mask the establishment needs. Humans who smile and nod and never ask what truly lives beneath the floorboards. You're different. Pure in the way only something unbroken can be pure. Ordinary enough to pass. Rare enough that no other body has ever held his attention the way yours does.

When the meetings end and the last disciple bows out, the door closes and the air changes.

“Come here,” he says, voice low.

You go. Your hands slide up his chest, fingers spreading over the hard planes of muscle, then around to his back. The contact does something to him. You feel it in the way his breath catches. In the way his hips press forward. He's already hard, thick and heavy against your stomach.

His hands find the buttons of your shirt with the same careful patience he uses for everything that matters. He strips you slowly. Each layer peeled back like an offering. Your skin, warm under his palms. He cherishes that warmth. Presses his mouth to the slope of your shoulder and breathes you in.

He lifts you up, with swift ease. Carries you to the low couch in his private rooms. Lays you down and looks at you the way a man looks at something he has decided to keep.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “So open for me already.”

Your cunt is slick when he slides two fingers through the wetness. He watches your face while he works them inside. Slow and deep. Stretching you open on nothing but his hand until you’re trembling. Then he replaces his fingers with his cock.

The first push is always a burn of pleasure because he's thick. Thick enough that your body has to yield around him, has to make room. You take him. You always take him. He seats himself fully inside your snug warm walls and stays there for a moment longer, forehead pressed to yours, violet eyes half-lidded with the sheer relief of being inside you.

“That’s it,” he says. “That’s my girl.”

He fucks you like he has all the time in the world and none of it at once. Long, rolling thrusts that drag against every sensitive place inside you. His hands hold your hips steady. His mouth finds your throat, your collarbone, the soft underside of your breast. You cling to him. Fingers in his hair. Legs locked around his waist. The heat builds until it is almost unbearable. Suguru doesn't stop. He never stops until you cum around him, clenching and shaking, and even then he keeps going, chasing his own release with a low sound that vibrates against your skin.

When he finishes he stays buried inside you. Breathing hard. Hands stroking slow paths up and down your sides as if memorizing the shape of you all over again.

You fall asleep like that, more nights than not. Wrapped in his arms. Warm and claimed.

He doesn't get many hours for personal matters. The cult demands him. The plans demand him. But when the two of you finally close the door on the rest of the world, the fever between you is too much for either of you to ignore. He becomes insatiable. You become willing. Your vulnerability is his to cherish. Your heat is his to take.

And you've never once refused him his right.

It happens on an ordinary afternoon.

A discussion about the next gathering. Numbers. Timing. The usual quiet exchange of information. Someone asks a question that needs an answer and the answer is already forming on Suguru’s tongue when you speak.

You raise your voice. Just a little. Just enough, that the words that leave your mouth are the wrong ones. A suggestion that is not yours to make. A correction that lands like a slap in a room that has never heard you raise anything louder than a soft mindless “yes.”

The silence that follows is sharp.

Suguru’s violet eyes turn to you. There's no warmth in them. Only the still, assessing cold of a man who has been interrupted by something he didn't expect.

You feel the mistake in your bones the second the last syllable dies.

He doesn’t raise his voice. He does not need to.

“That will be all for today,” he says to the others.

They file out. The door shuts. You remain standing where you are, heart beating too fast, your mouth feels dry.

He looks at you, and it feels like time slows to a crawl. Like his stare is burning a hole through you.

Then he turns and walks away. Not even an utter of his disappointment. You knew you fucked up when he doesn't even bother to speak.

That night you go to his room the way you always do. The soft knock. The quiet entrance. You expect the usual. The slow undressing. The heated look. The way his hands reach for you the moment the door is locked.

Instead he's seated in the armchair by the window. Fully dressed. Robes still on. Violet eyes watching you with a distance that makes your stomach drop.

“Take your clothes off,” he says.

The words are calm. Flat, with no room for protests.

You obey. Fingers trembling slightly as you undo buttons and let fabric fall. Shirt. Skirt. Undergarments. Until you stand naked in the middle of the room and the air feels colder than it should.

“On the bed. Legs spread.”

You climb onto the sheets. Lie back. Open your thighs the way you always do for him. Your cunt is already wet. It always is when he looks at you like this, even when the look is wrong.

He stands. Walks to the low cabinet against the wall. Opens a drawer. When he turns back he is holding something you have never seen in these rooms.

A dildo. Thick, darker in the dim light. Rigid. Nothing like the living heat of him.

“For your insolence, I've decided a punishment,” he says, voice soft and hollow, filled with undeniable satisfaction, apparent in his voice for having gotten his way. A faint trace of anger still lingered on his tongue. “you’re going to get filled by this instead.”

Your breath catches.

He doesn't come to the bed right away. He stands there and looks at you. At the way your legs are open. At the slick shine between them. At the way your chest rises and falls too quickly.

Then he kneels between your thighs.

The head of the toy presses against your entrance. Cool and hard. Unyielding. He watches your face as he pushes the tip slow and steady. The stretch is different. There's no give. No warmth. No pulse of blood and life. Just the solid pressure of something that can't love you back.

You feel the loss of him immediately. The absence of his weight. His hands. The way his body always covered yours completely.

“Take it,” he murmurs.

Working the toy deeper. Inch by inch. Your cunt clenches around the plastic, trying to adjust, trying to find something that's not there. It is too hard. Too smooth. Nothing like the thick, veined heat of his cock that you've grown so used to.

He doesn't stop until it's fully nestled inside you, in the snug clammy walls of your cunt, pulsing around the girth of it, your pussy juices gushing out and around it.

Then, he begins to move the toy.

Long, unhurried strokes. Pulling it almost all the way out before pushing back in. Stretching you open on something that doesn't care how you feel. Your hips twitch madly. Your hands fist in the sheets, fingers curled in silk like. A soft sound leaves your throat.

Suguru’s eyes never leave your face.

He fucks you with the toy the way he fucks you with his cock. Patient and thorough. Watching every flicker of sensation that crosses your expression. When your thighs start to tremble, he angles the dildo just so, dragging it against the place inside you that makes your breath stutter.

“Feel that?” he asks quietly. “That’s what happens when you forget yourself.”

You want his hands on your hips. You want his mouth on your throat. You want the solid weight of him pressing you into the mattress. Instead there is only the relentless slide of plastic and the cold distance in his violet eyes.

He keeps going. Stretching you. Opening you. Filling you with something that can never replace him. Your cunt is wet around the toy, slick sounds filling the quiet room, but the pleasure is hollow. Incomplete.

He doesn't let you cum.

When your body starts to tighten, when the pleasure begins to crest, he slows. Stops. Holds the dildo still inside you while you whimper and shift, seeking friction that's no longer offered.

“Not yet,” he says.

Then he starts again. Builds you up. Denies you. Over and over until your thighs are shaking and your voice is soft and broken, and all you can think about is how much you miss the real weight of him.

Finally he pulls the toy free. Sets it aside. Looks down at your open, glistening cunt with something close to satisfaction.

“You will remember this the next time you open your mouth without being asked.”

He stands. Adjusts his robe. Walks toward the door.

You remain on the bed. Legs still spread. Body aching and empty, needy for him in a way that has nothing to do with the plastic that just filled you.

The door closes softly behind him.

The room is quiet once more, just your uneven breaths in the dark.

And for the first time since you became his, you're left alone with the cold.

[choivae]

ᝰ.ᐟ nanami being so big your whole body literally convulses when he puts it in ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni

"look at me," nanami said, his voice smooth and steady.

you tried to turn your head, but your hands were planted firmly on the mattress, your chest propped up on your straightened arms and your hips raised high for him. he was on his knees behind you, one broad hand resting heavily on the small of your back to keep you pinned. with his other hand, he hooked his fingers into the thin elastic string of your underwear, tugging it to the side.

he didn't rush. slowly and deliberately, he dragged the flat, blunt tip of his cock up and down along your wet folds, coating himself with your slick while keeping you right on the edge.

"please, kento..." you whined, your arms trembling under your own weight as your fingers clawed at the sheets. "please, just put it in."

"just put it in?" he chuckled, a low, quiet sound that made your stomach flip. he pressed a tiny bit closer, letting you feel the thick, heavy heat of him right at your entrance, only to pull right back. "you were so confident a minute ago, sweetheart. now you're begging."

"because i want you," you gasped out, rocking your hips back to try and force the point home. "please. i'll be good, i promise. just give it to me."

"hmm, good girl," he murmured, his tone dripping with quiet approval. "hold still then."

he lined himself up, his grip on your hip tightening to anchor you. slowly, he began to push.

the first inch stretched you so suddenly that your eyes went wide. you opened your mouth to breathe, but then came the second inch—thick, unyielding, and relentless—stretching you wider than you thought possible.

"h-huh? w-wait—" you gasped out, panic suddenly cutting through the arousal.

you thought that was it. you thought he was all the way in. but nanami just kept going, burying himself deeper, forcing your body to make room for inches you didn't know you had. every time you thought he had hit his limit, his hips nudged forward again, seamless and merciless, until he finally bottomed out against you.

the instant he fully filled you, your breath was utterly stolen. a violent, full-body shudder racked through you. the shock of his size hit your nerves so hard that your arms nearly buckled, your straightened legs trembling violently as your knees wobbled against the mattress.

nanami stopped dead still. he stayed buried inside, broad palm flat over your spine, feeling the tremors vibrating through your whole frame. he waited, giving you a quiet moment to try and adjust to the stretch.

"are you alright, princess?" he asked softly, his thumb rubbing the side of your waist.

"i-i'm fine," you choked out, though your voice was completely breathless. you tried to steady yourself, but your body betrayed you—your legs and hips were still visibly shaking, completely overwhelmed by the sheer size of him.

nanami looked down at you, taking in the sight of your trembling frame, and a dark, amused smile touched his lips. he let out a low, mocking chuckle.

"you're shaking like a leaf, sweetheart," he hummed, zero pity in his tone. "and you said you were fine."

you looked back over your shoulder—eyes glassy and desperate—waiting for him to take control, set the pace, and ease the overwhelming pressure.

"move," he commanded simply.

"w-what?" you stammered, caught completely off guard. in your shaky, helpless state, you could barely keep yourself propped up, let alone pull yourself along his length.

his eyes narrowed with a mean, mocking glint. "you were practically screaming at me to put it in a second ago," he murmured.

before you could gather your thoughts, his hand came down in a sharp, stinging slap against your bare ass cheek. the crack echoed in the quiet room, making you gasp as a burst of heat bloomed over your skin.

"if you want it that badly," nanami whispered, his grip on your waist locking you in place without pushing an inch, "do it yourself."

[evfers]

𝓓umb enough / 𝓞n the couch.

𝓢ummary: Suguru fucking you on his couch like nobody’s business.

𝔀arnings: overstimulation, some plot, he’s kind of mean 😵‍💫, fwb, dumbification, condescension.

𝓪/n: eufers finally uploads 🫪

𝓦c: 2.9k

mdni

He rolls into you with such passion, you’re already crying, a mess, a complete mumbling and mewling mess. Every single rut inside of your walls bringing you closer to space when your vision gets to a dreamy haze. He holds the back of your hair, pushing down on your stomach, he fucks into you never faltering his slow and calculating pace. Staring into your eyes, pupils expanding with salacious intensity.

You think you might be at the point of no return, in fact.

The sex he’s giving you like your warm walls are the only thing that’s heaven to him.

Like an angel was whispering in his ear to please you.

So dreamy.

so deep.

So ambivalence.

So soul shattering.

Sugurus sex makes you want to shut off your brain forever. Melting like ice in the sun under his sweaty body slamming into your messy cunt all over again.

Your ears are losing their hearing and your vision is blurry, if not your eyes are closed, spilling a warm river of tears rolling down your cheeks. White bubbles of your fluids sticking between you, pussy throbbing for more.

And again. And again. And again.

Suguru isn’t cruel, he isn’t.

He was never cruel to you. But he did tend to play little games with you sometimes, in bed, in his lap, in control.

Going dumb on Sugurus cock is a must.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this after all, you were invited to come hang out with Satoru and Suguru for the afternoon via text.

Satoru wanted to play some video games and you agreed to come over.

You always were in your own world when playing video games, kind of zoning out at times during the session and probably angry spamming the controller when fighting.

That afternoon went to a different turn when Suguru started with some flirty comments. He’s always been a little too nice to you, too close at the right moment. Suguru has always been too accepting.

And dare I say a little too soft.

At least, that’s only towards you.

He’ll be nice and even get closer to you and get in your personal space.

Suguru was very open and that kind of makes you question what he’s up to. Whatever, probably another way to be mean. And that’s upsetting, poor you, another session of teasing.

Satoru went to continue his homework and that takes hours, Suguru by this time, was already halfway finished with his homework. So after some time, you and Suguru decided to play some video games.

Suguru turned on the console, you watched him grab the two controllers and he handed you yours. Hands slightly touching with the small intimate contact, sitting back down next to you as the tv glows up through the dark room. Your nose breathes in his firewood vanilla scent and that makes your face hot.

There it was, his scent.

You turn your head at him.

He sets his controller in his lap then puts his hair up back into that neat bun.

You watched his elegant movements with curiosity then he glanced at you through his peripheral, catching your eyes before you quickly looked away.

He saw it.

He just giggled under his breath and picked up his controller and turned it on. He leans back into the soft sofa, thigh beside yours, pressing, inching beside you and looks at the tv screen, then back at you.

Heart slowing down from his ‘Caught ya’ stare, you looked back to him and met his playful calm glare.

His voice steady and warm.

“What do you wanna play?”

Your mind froze for a few seconds.

You were too caught up in his enticing stare. Softly caught off guard, you don’t talk. Your heart just hammers in your ribs. Just as you were frozen he snapped his fingers next to your right ear once—;it snapped you out of your mind for another moment.

It’s his scent that consumes your senses, just as the same as it did before.

Back in reality, you look at the screen, you can’t even pretend to be interested in anything that’s using your brain. You have Suguru Geto right beside you asking to play some stupid game you’re not going to care about later. You look between him and the controllers, paired with the console.

Eyes motion blurring between the two options. You looked.

Suguru, controller, tv.

Suguru, controller, tv.

Suguru, controller, tv.

Wait—Controller, Suguru, tv.

Tv, sugur-oh whatever. What’s the use if you can’t even focus on a damn video game? Your brain is too aware of him. Why is his huge covered thigh touching yours?

Pussy starting to throb, you can’t really ignore it. You wonder if he can see it, if he can see the shifting in your spot. It’s getting warm so your brows start to knit. No, it’s starting to get hot. Your clit feels so turned on. If this is what prey feels like then it must be. Your right leg started bouncing all shaky.

What does this man do to you?

His voice pulled you out of your brainstorm.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to make big decisions.”

Wait…

Big decisions?

What does he mean by that? Actually never mind that, wait actually mind that. What the hell does he mean by ‘you don’t have to make big decisions’?

He stood up from the couch and your eyes tracked after his body. “Let me turn the console off, we can do something else.” He turned his attention to you with that same amusement. “Let’s go to my place.”

And of course, you said yes without a hesitation, without a word, without a flinch, without a doubt—he’s got you wrapped around his finger and he hasn’t even acknowledged the throbbing pussy and the jittery shakes of your legs.

Yet.

Back at his apartment indoors.

His place is clean and neat, still homey to him with his smell all around with some fresh candle wax burning a sweet lavender on the hard surface kitchen counter. You look around with a slight flush on your face from your earlier thirsting, cause god you were thirsty.

You don’t know if that’s perverted or not, but the way he still smiles at you tells you that something is lurking deeper than what he may have concealed.

You sit on his couch stiff, the same way you did on Satorus couch when you looked at Suguru up and down in the dim living room. Frozen, frozen like you were when he asked, ‘“What do you wanna play?”’

You still had no idea.

He looks at you soft and fondly leaning over the kitchen counter with his palms on the edges. He’s observing you again like there’s something that needs guidance inside you. Baggy sleeves rolled at his elbows, Revealing skin to you like he can tell you’re thinking back to that memory already.

That scent set you off.

His scent was setting you off.

Maybe if you wiggled under his pillows and hide your face wishing you could make a home there. How embarrassing. He walked over and grabbed a pillow off your head and put them on the other side of the couch. Sitting down next to your curled up form—he talks gently.

“So, what did you want back there?”

What?

You turn your head to him a little confused. Did he notice? And if so..did he just read through you?

“Elaborate…I’m stuck..”

“mmm.” He just looks at you even more amused. It’s gentle and confusing. What is he hinting at? Your bones shiver and you just blurt out before he can finish.

“Se—”

You burst from the cushions.

“I wanted to play a game!”

Oh.

He already said it for you.

You sat there as your heart sinks in your chest.

You felt caught.

There wasn’t any real way to describe it. You just be quiet and look at him and get the feeling like he’s scolding you gently then get warm. Like a little deer in the headlights. You freeze. Your voice came out shakier than usual. “That’s not..what I said..” you say it like it holds any meaning.

“I know.”

It doesn’t.

Your breath actually hitches and your heart throbs.

Oh.

You’ve been caught.

A stretched silence occurred, you suddenly feel too exposed to him. Suguru stares at you with a gentle smile. He knows what he’s doing. Cutting your voice through the silence, you kind of feel like his eyes are just a spotlight on you. “Suguru..” it was only a whisper because you didn’t know what to say. All you had to do was sit there and think about what just happened and let it all soak in.

“I know you wanna have sex.”

It wasn’t a lie,

Suguru not a liar. He saw it when you looked away. You wanted to defend yourself somehow. You start shaking your head no and looking away. “I wasn—” “I know you were.” It’s as if the atmosphere changed. Eyes on the floor, you’re frozen. Suguru’s eyes on you, you’re still. Your heart sped up. You give up after your thoughts race. “Am I in trouble..?” You ask.

He crawls on top of you like a big cat and stays there. “Does it feel like you’re in trouble?” And god was it hard for you to breathe. He whispered in your ear as if you two aren’t alone. “I think we both know where this is going baby. We both know how you’re going to end up.” Heart pounding in your chest you make a noise, you’re not sure if it’s a protest or a plead.

“Don’t worry sweetheart you’re not in trouble, but I sure can make you feel like it.”

And then you make the same needy noise. He knows what he’s doing to you. As you breathe the ache between your legs is worse ever since he weighted on you. “I wanna..” you swallowed. “I wanna..have sex with you…” you felt heart heart banging in your chest, sweating. Hot spread on your cheeks, you can’t hide behind anything but you hope you don’t have to say anything more.

“Oh baby, that wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?”

“No..” you say it so weakly like you're too embarrassed to even speak. He smiles softly at your surrender then kisses your baby hair. “You’re such an angel.” Behind those eyes with such calmness you’re sure to believe it.

He took his time with you and peeled back the soft material of your shirt and repeats it again but a little differently.

“You’re an angel.”

His words are so simple but it means a lot. It burns into your hot skin so much you wanna flinch. He got up off you and leans over you. You finally catch your breath and he looks you in the eyes. “No more thinking from here on out.” And you accepted it. So you accepted anything he gives you.

He puts his hands on your waistband and peels back your pants then throwing them to the side. Climbing over you again and kissing you. Finally kissing you, but he’s not a mess like you with how eager and impatient you’re. His hair still in a bun, clothes still on, warmth still on his skin. Hes not bothered one bit.

He’s going to have to teach you about patience. Nevermind that now. Kissing you down until you can’t breathe, getting crushed under him. Later covering you in bite marks and hickies going up and down all over your neck and chest. It just makes the thrumming in your clit more aroused.

Taking off another layer was your bra. But as cute as it is, it has to come off. And on the floor it goes.

And right now, your chest is bare.

“So divine.”

It’s blunt and sweet. Worshipful but sweet. Then he leans down to suck them. You let out a small huff trying not to moan. It was the licking you until you begged for more, then he kissed down further to your panties. Then kissing it through your panties. It’s such a warm kiss because he did it with his mouth open, and of course you mewled because it felt good. You wanted nothing more than his fingers inside you.

Pulling your panties off he spreads your legs and opens up your pussy on display separated by his broad shoulders. It’s like he’s done this before multiple times with ease. Smoothly pulling out a strong pulsing orgasm from within you.

You’re blushing, you’re excited, you’re ecstatic.

He’s not the type to tease when pleasing too much, he knows you’d break easily. But it is oh so easy to get you turned on. He licks and sucks on your clit softly just to see what would happen and you hold back. That’s not supposed to happen so he keeps going until you cum on his face. When you screamed raw he was satisfied but now it’s time to give you what you really want.

He sticks his middle finger inside your cunt and slowly adds another when you got more comfortable. Fingering you enough to make you heavy breathe every time you orgasm. Not waiting when you claw at his arm and shake through the torturing feeling inside. When you cummed hard on his hand again he pressed his thumb over your sensitive little clit and let you do whatever you felt needed to do to run away from it.

(And you can’t.)

Squirting all over his neck he sucks on you regardless of the shaking and crying. You’re not so good at running from him because it feels like he’s pinning you here. And after all that crying he starts sucking on you harsher, not out of teaching you anything, just giving you pleasure. And when you cummed violently he starts sucking harder like he wanted to bruise it. You came with a broken cry and a shuddering back.

He lifts his head up, eyes focused on you testing the question.

“You in there?”

That’s how it started.

But somewhere in the middle of it you started losing your mind. He lost his clothes too, after making you cum a few more times of course.

Suguru fucks into you like you’re precious, like you’re the most fragile thing in the world. Keeping that slow ache filled longing pace inside you, knees at your ears because he’s bent you in so many ways then keeps you packed tightly in that position forever locking you in until otherwise.

Your body is squirting and squirming under him. Tears running down your cheeks and you still need air. After multiple orgasms you didn’t know if you could take it. But he’ll convince you otherwise. And soon enough you’re crying like someone’s being mean to you. Because he is. Suguru likes asking questions if you’re too overwhelmed to understand, he knows all you can think about is his dick in your guts. Then starts rubbing on your puffy clit as if his dick wasn’t enough stimulation.

Stuttering and moaning under him you can’t take it anymore. “Fu—I—” you hold back your panting and hold your breath kicking at his back crying. It’s enough pleasure to make you tap out. But you don’t, because he makes you take it. “Suguru!” Your head lifts up and suddenly it feels heavy to use your head. He taps your forehead and your head falls back onto the couch.

“Stay.” It’s a simple command for you to follow as he stuffs you full of dick. Your clit is so sensitive from him he wants to make you sob. You repeat his name again, more neadier, and he just smiles back at you for your efforts. But now it’s time for you to orgasm. You start sobbing out.

He rolls into you with such passion, you’re already crying, a mess, a complete mumbling and mewling mess. Every single rut inside of your walls bringing you closer to space when your vision gets to a dreamy haze. He holds the back of your hair, pushing down on your stomach, he fucks into you never faltering his slow and calculating pace. Staring into your eyes, pupils expanding with salacious intensity.

You think you might be at the point of no return, in fact.

The sex he’s giving you like your warm walls are the only thing that’s heaven to him.

Like an angel was whispering in his ear to please you.

So dreamy.

so deep.

So ambivalence.

So soul shattering.

Sugurus sex makes you want to shut off your brain forever. Melting like ice in the sun under his sweaty body sexing into your messy cunt all over again.

Your ears are losing their hearing and your vision is blurry, if not your eyes are closed, spilling a warm river of tears rolling down your cheeks. White bubbles of your fluids sticking between you, pussy throbbing for more.

And again. And again. And again.

Your cum was over flowing with the slick noises when he slid in and out of you. High pitched moans coming from your throat like someone’s gonna save you. But too bad for you you’re already in his grasp. Your sobs got louder and harsher as he kept going. It feels so big it’s stretching and impaling your pussy, filling it with more cum than you already bargained for. Clit so swollen and bruised from how much he’s been touching it. He praised you through it.

“Doing so well.” You can’t answer as his hips grind his cock in your stomach and you arch your back hissing like a kitten. Not even moaning you cum on his dick again, white liquid frothing between you two.

“Poor thing, you were never gonna make it out of this, why did you think you would?”

You’re never going to survive this…or him.

ꉂ (′̤ॢ∀ ू‵̤๑))ˉ̞̭♡ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡: @cuntphoric-main @zukobendsme @cuntphoric @nonamedreams @lilithkleia @levisfatjuicycock @sapph22 @manonism @insanjity @stqrgumi @lemonzie @angelicwhispersofsin @sugurusplaything @dearkuna @izuruverse @serpenttine @daflex @animewhoreswrld @yoonsucks @mystickittenpurr

[torupng]

⌞ 呪術廻戦 ⌝ ★ nsfwtwt ! suguru geto facetimes you.

drabble ! :: fem!reader :: phone sex :: masturbation :: praise :: alt!suguru :: mdni 18+ .

midnight’s boring until your phone starts buzzing against the nightstand. the screen lights up with his name — suguru — and for a second you just stare, thumb hovering, heart doing that stupid little flip it always does when it’s him—whether it’s a text, or a post—it’s always the same.

you swipe to answer.

his face fills the screen almost immediately. dim lighting, that familiar wolfcut messy like he’s been running a hand through it, snake bites catching the light glow of his phone. he’s shirtless, tattoos crawling over his chest and shoulders and neck, nipple piercings catching the light every time he shifts and the phone angles low enoughx his eyes soften the second they land on you.

“hey,” he says, voice low and a little rough, like he’s been awake for a while. “didn’t wake you, did i?”

you shake your head, sitting up against the headboard. “no. couldn’t sleep.”

“mm.” his mouth curves, soft. “me neither.” a pause. he tilts his head, studying you. “how was your day?”

you tell him. nothing special — work, errands, the usual. he listens like he always does, asking little questions that make it feel like he actually cares—and maybe he does. then you ask him the same, and he shrugs one shoulder, talking about the gym and some late work and how he’s been restless for a few hours now.

the conversation drifts easy for a while. comfortable. the kind that only happens when you’ve already shared too many late-night texts and filthy exchanges.

then his expression shifts. something needier settles behind his eyes.

“i’ve been thinking about you,” he says suddenly, voice quieter. “a lot. more than i should, probably.” he lets out a soft breath, glancing away for a second before meeting your gaze through the screen again. “kept wanting to call earlier. kept telling myself to wait. but…” his tongue presses briefly against his cheek, then flicks out to tug at his lip piercing. “i’ve been hard for a while now. and you’re the only one who can help me with that lately.

the words were honest. no teasing edge yet — just that calm and lustfully intense way he has of saying exactly what he means.

you swallow. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he chuckles roughly, but it’s soft somehow. “you gonna help me, pretty girl?”

your pulse kicks up. you nod, and something hungry flickers across his face.

“good,” he murmurs. “show me you.” he shifts, angling the phone so you can see more of him — the way his abs tighten when he breathes, the dark trail of tattoos disappearing under the waistband of his sweats. “take your shirt off for me. slow.”

you do. his gaze tracks every movement, heavy and focused.

“fuck,” he breathes when your bra comes off next. “look at you. still the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen on this screen.” his free hand drifts down, palming himself over the fabric. “been thinking about those tits all day. the way they look when you play with them for me.”

he pushes his sweats down without ceremony. his cock springs free — thick, flushed, the metal of his tip piercing glinting under the low light. he wraps a tattooed hand around it and gives a slow stroke, eyes never leaving yours on the screen.

“touch yourself,” he orders softly. “fingers on your clit first. i wanna watch you get wet for me.”

you flip the camera and slide your hand between your legs. the second your fingers press against your clit he groans, low and deep.

“there it is,” he mutters. “spread your legs wider. let me see that pretty pussy.” when you do, his grip tightens around his cock. “fuck… look at how wet you already are. all for me, huh?”

he strokes himself in time with your fingers, slow and deliberate. the wet sound of his hand moving over his cock fills the previous quiet between you.

“two fingers,” he says. “push them in. nice and deep. i wanna hear how wet you sound.”

you obey, sinking your fingers into yourself with a soft moan. his eyes flutter half-shut for a second.

“god, that sound…” he strokes harder, thumb brushing over his piercing, spreading precum all over his tip. “tell me how it feels. tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“you,” you manage, voice already shaky. “your cock. the way it’d stretch me. i want to fuck you so bad.”

“yeah?” his smile is dark, pleased. “you’d take it so well, wouldn’t you? let me bury every inch in that tight little cunt until you can’t think straight.” he pumps his fist faster, hips shifting. “i’d fuck you slow at first. make you feel it. every inch. then i’d make you forget your own name.”

your fingers curl, searching for that spot that makes your thighs tremble. he notices immediately.

“found it?” he asks through a light chuckle, voice rougher now. “rub it, baby. don’t stop. i wanna watch you cum for me.”

the wet sounds of your fingers and his hand fill the call. his breathing gets heavier, chest rising and falling faster. sweat starts to gleam along his collarbones, catching on his piercings.

“you look so fucking good like this,” he groans. “legs spread, fingers buried in your pussy. wish i could taste you right now. wish i could shove my tongue inside you and feel you clench around it.”

your hips rock against your hand. the pressure builds fast, heat coiling tight in your stomach at the hand of his words alone.

“suguru—”

“that’s it,” he encourages, voice dropping lower and trailing into a soft groan. “say my name while you fuck yourself. let me hear it.”

you do. again and again, moaning it as your fingers work faster. his strokes turn almost punishing, the wet shlick of his hand loud and filthy.

“gonna cum for me?” he asks, eyes locked on where your fingers disappear into yourself. “gonna make a mess of those pretty fingers while i stroke this cock thinking about burying it inside you?”

“yes—fuck, yes—”

“then do it,” he orders, soft but firm. “cum for me. let me see it.”

the orgasm hits hard. your back arches, a broken moan spilling out as you clench around your fingers, thighs shaking. he watches every second of it, stroking himself through it, lips parted, eyes laced with lust. lust directed at you and you alone. no one else makes him ache the way you do.

the second your high starts to ease he groans your name, hand flying over his cock. “fuck—look at you. so fucking pretty. so perfect.” a few more rough strokes and he’s cumming hard, thick ropes spilling over his tattooed fist and abs, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat. his piercing glints through the mess as he milks every last drop.

for a moment the only sound is both of you trying to catch your breath.

he lets out a rough chuckle, followed by a pleased sigh as he slumps back on the bed. “shit, that felt good.” he looks at the camera again, chest still heaving, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at his mouth. “stay,” he murmurs. “don’t hang up yet.” his voice is softer now. “i still wanna look at you for a while.”

you settle back against the pillows, phone held in your hand just over your head, he just watches you with a look that’s almost fond — like the distance doesn’t matter as much when he can still see your face. or maybe you’re just sleep deprived and seeing things.

“you’re something else,” he says eventually, almost to himself. “you know that?”

#needthat

taglist: @miyahluvsjjk @neotoru @ravenhood2792 @rean13 @skylaryippee @asian-woody @marmaryu @butterbeanandsparkleface @miminist @stvsgsb @scarletreigns @4ngelvx @toruii

[fayelero]

PROMISE I'LL BE KIND! BUT I WON'T STOP UNTIL THE BOY IS MINE...

ft. gojo, toji, choso, geto

tw. mdni! dumbification, praise(geto), degradation, rough, p in v, stalker!reader, cult leader!geto, please read at your own risks !

GOJO SATORU

You’d been careful. Or so you told yourself.

Six days of shadows and stolen glances. Six days of trailing the tall figure in black, white hair catching every streetlight, blindfold never quite turning toward you. You memorized his routes—the way he cut through alleys near the school, the late-night convenience-store runs, the quiet residential street that led to the modern house with the dark windows. You told yourself it was just admiration. Just a fan’s obsession. Harmless.

Tonight you stepped onto his porch anyway.

The lights were off. No car in the driveway. You pressed closer to the door, heart hammering, fingers brushing the cool wood as if you could feel him through it—

A hand clamped over your mouth from behind.

Hard. Absolute.

Warm palm sealed your scream. An arm like steel banded around your waist and yanked you backward into a solid wall of muscle and heat. You felt the smirk against your ear before you heard the voice.

“Caught you, little stalker.”

Gojo.

He didn’t give you time to struggle. One shove of his foot and the door swung open. He propelled you inside, kicked it shut, and the locks engaged with sharp, final clicks. Darkness swallowed the entryway for half a second before soft lights bloomed—low, intimate, enough to see the dangerous curve of his mouth above the black blindfold.

He spun you and pinned you to the wall so hard the air left your lungs. One hand stayed over your mouth. The other wrapped your throat, thumb resting lightly over your racing pulse.

“Six days,” he murmured, almost fond. “Six whole days of you following me everywhere. I let it go at first. Cute. Then annoying. Then…” His thumb stroked once. “Interesting. You wanted my attention so badly you became a little ghost. So here it is.”

He kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. His mouth crashed onto yours the second he moved his hand, tongue forcing past your lips, claiming every inch. He tasted like mint and danger. You whimpered into it—fear, shock, and something darker twisting low in your belly—and he only deepened the kiss, grinding the thick ridge of his cock against your stomach through his clothes.

When he finally pulled back an inch, both of you were breathing hard.

“You’re shaking,” he observed, voice low and amused. “Scared? Or already wet for the man you’ve been stalking?”

You couldn’t answer. Your thighs pressed together of their own accord. He laughed softly—mean, delighted—and then he was moving again, marching you deeper into the house with a hand between your shoulder blades. The living room was spacious, modern, all clean lines and a wide black leather couch. He bent you over the back of it without ceremony, cheek pressed to cool leather, ass presented.

“Stay.”

One word. Absolute.

You heard his belt. The soft hiss of a zipper. Fabric shifting. Then his hands were on you—rough, efficient, yanking your shirt up and off, unhooking your bra, peeling your pants and underwear down to your knees in one ruthless motion. Cool air kissed your bare skin. You were already dripping; you could feel it.

Gojo’s fingers found the evidence immediately.

Two long fingers slid through your folds, gathering slick, then pushed inside without warning. You cried out. He curled them hard against that sensitive front wall and scissored, stretching you open while his thumb circled your clit with deliberate pressure.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost impressed. “Soaked. You’ve been walking around with this needy little cunt thinking about me for days, haven’t you? Obsessive little freak.”

He finger-fucked you hard and fast, wet sounds obscenely loud in the quiet room. When he added a third finger you sobbed into the leather. He only laughed and kept going until your hips were jerking back against his hand, chasing more.

Then the blunt, hot head of his cock dragged through your folds.

He didn’t ease in.

He sank halfway on the first thrust, then slammed the rest of the way home in one brutal stroke that punched the air from your lungs. The stretch burned—thick, perfect, too much. He bottomed out and stayed there, hips flush to your ass, letting you feel every pulsing inch.

“There,” he groaned. “That’s what you get for following the strongest. You get used.”

Then he started to move.

Hard. Deep. Relentless. The couch creaked under every snap of his hips. His cock dragged over every sensitive place inside you on every stroke, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. One hand fisted in your hair and yanked your head back so he could watch your face in profile; the other gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

“Look at you,” he growled. “Stuffed full of me and still trying to pretend you didn’t want this. You stalked me for days just hoping I’d catch you and fuck the sense back into you. Admit it.”

You couldn’t form words—only broken gasps and high, desperate moans. He fucked like he fought: precise, overwhelming, completely in control. When your legs started to shake he only spread them wider with his own, forcing you more open, more vulnerable. The angle changed and suddenly every thrust ground against that perfect spot inside you. Your vision blurred.

“Come on my cock,” he ordered, voice rough now. “Do it. Let this obsessive little cunt milk me while I ruin you.”

The orgasm tore through you without mercy—violent, full-body, walls clenching and fluttering around the thick length buried inside you. You sobbed his name. He didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow. He fucked you through it, chasing his own pleasure, the overstimulation making you thrash and whimper against the leather.

When he finally pulled out it was only long enough to flip you onto your back on the cushions. He shoved your tangled pants the rest of the way off, spread your thighs wide, and sank back in with a guttural sound. Face to face now. The blindfold still covered his eyes, but you felt the intensity of his focus like a physical weight. He braced one hand beside your head, the other folding one of your legs up so he could drive even deeper.

“Still with me?” he asked, almost gentle for a second—then ruined it by snapping his hips so hard the couch scraped across the floor. “Good. Because I’m not done taming you.”

He kissed you again while he fucked you, swallowing every broken sound. His tongue mimicked the rhythm of his cock—deep, claiming, relentless. When he tore his mouth away it was to latch onto your throat, sucking a dark mark just below your jaw while his hips kept pounding. You were going to come again. You could feel it building, coiling tight and hot.

“That’s it,” he groaned against your skin. “Take it. Take every fucking inch. This is what happens when an obsessive girl gets caught by me. You get fucked until you understand exactly who you belong to.”

The second orgasm hit harder than the first. Your back arched clean off the cushions, inner walls fluttering and squeezing around him in helpless waves. Gojo cursed, low and filthy, and then he was coming too—burying himself to the hilt and pulsing deep inside you, flooding you with heat. He stayed locked there, breathing hard against your neck, hips giving a few last lazy rolls as he rode it out.

For a long moment the only sound was both of you panting.

Then he slowly pulled out. You felt the immediate rush of his come slipping out of you, warm and messy down your thighs. He looked down at the mess he’d made, that same lazy, dangerous smile curving his mouth.

“Still think following me was a good idea?” he asked softly.

You couldn’t answer. Your body was trembling, oversensitive, thoroughly used—and somewhere under the haze of pleasure and surrender, the obsessive girl in you was already craving more. He leaned down and kissed you one more time—slower now, almost sweet—before murmuring against your lips:

“Good. Because you’re not leaving tonight. And tomorrow… we’re going to talk about exactly how long you’ve been watching me.”

His hand slid between your legs again, two fingers gathering the mix of both of you and pushing it back inside.

“And then,” he added, voice dark with promise, “I’m going to fuck you again. Until this little obsession of yours is the only thing that makes sense.”

You shivered—fear, yes, but also something hotter, deeper. Because even like this—trapped, used, claimed—you had never felt more seen.

And the obsessive girl in you loved every second of being tamed by Satoru Gojo.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

You’d been following him for days.

Not the white-haired sorcerer this time. This one was different—taller in a different way, broader, scarred, moving through the city like a predator that didn’t need cursed energy to own every shadow. Toji Fushiguro. You’d watched him from rooftops, from alley mouths, from the dark corners of cheap bars where he sometimes drank alone. Your eyes always lingered too long on the thick muscle of his arms, the heavy scars that mapped his torso under thin shirts, the way his body moved with lazy, lethal power. You told yourself it was fascination. Research. Admiration.

It was obsession.

You wanted to touch that skin. Trace every old wound with your fingers, your mouth. You wanted to know if the scars were raised, if the muscle under them jumped when pressed. You wanted him. All of him. The freak in you had already decided he was the only thing worth looking at in this entire city.

Tonight you got too close.

The alley was narrow, reeking of rain and garbage, lit only by a distant streetlamp that barely reached the walls. You’d followed him in, heart slamming against your ribs, thinking he wouldn’t notice another shadow. You were wrong.

A hand the size of a dinner plate closed around the back of your neck and slammed you face-first into the brick wall.

The impact knocked the air out of you. Rough stone scraped your cheek. His body pressed in behind yours—massive, hot, immovable—pinning you so completely you couldn’t even turn your head.

“You again,” Toji’s voice rumbled low against your ear, gravel and smoke. “Been watching me like a fucking dog in heat for days. Thought I didn’t see you? Cute.”

You tried to speak. His grip tightened, fingers digging into the sides of your neck hard enough to make your vision spark at the edges.

“Shut up. I know what you want.” His free hand shoved under your shirt, palm sliding up your stomach with zero gentleness, rough calluses catching on your skin. “You keep staring at my body like you want to peel the skin off and wear it. Sick little freak. That what this is? You want my scars? My muscle? You want to fucking collect me?”

He laughed, short and mean, and yanked your hips back against him. You felt the thick, heavy outline of his cock through his pants, already half-hard, pressing into the curve of your ass.

“Too bad. You’re not getting a trophy. You’re getting fucked until that dumb brain of yours remembers what happens when you stalk the wrong man.”

He didn’t ask. He didn’t warn.

His hand left your neck only long enough to rip your shirt open. Buttons scattered across the wet pavement. The cool night air hit your bare breasts a second before his rough palms did—squeezing hard, thumbs scraping over your nipples until they peaked painfully. You gasped. He answered by grinding against you harder, the friction deliberate and filthy.

“Look at you. Already shaking. Already wet, I bet.” One hand dropped, shoved past the waistband of your pants and underwear without ceremony, two thick fingers sliding straight through your folds. He found the proof immediately—slick, hot, shameless. “Fuck. Dripping. You really are a perverted little stalker, aren’t you? Following me around just hoping I’d catch you and use you.”

He fingered you roughly, curling those fingers deep, dragging them against your front wall while his thumb mashed against your clit. No finesse. Just ownership. The wet sounds of it echoed off the alley walls. You moaned despite yourself, hips jerking back into his hand, and he barked a laugh.

“There it is. The freak comes out. You like this. Being pinned in a dirty alley by a man who could snap your neck. Being handled like a toy. Say it.”

You didn’t. He twisted his fingers harder, pressing deep until your knees nearly buckled.

“Say it or I stop and leave you here dripping with nothing.”

“I—I like it,” you choked out, voice wrecked already. “I like it—”

“Louder.”

“I like it!”

“Good girl.” The words were pure mockery. “Obsessive little cunt. Now you’re gonna take what you actually get.”

He yanked your pants and underwear down to your knees in one brutal motion, leaving them tangled around your calves so you couldn’t kick or run. The night air kissed your exposed pussy. Then you heard his belt, the heavy zipper, the shift of fabric. The thick, hot head of his cock dragged through your folds once, twice, gathering your slick, and then he shoved in.

No warning. No gentleness.

He bottomed out in one savage thrust that punched a broken cry from your throat. The stretch was brutal—Toji was thick, heavy, the kind of cock that forced everything else out of your head. He stayed buried for a second, letting you feel every pulsing inch, then pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in harder.

“Fuck,” he growled, the sound low and filthy against the back of your neck. “Tight little stalker pussy. Clenching around me like you were made for this.”

He set a punishing rhythm immediately. Hips snapping against your ass with wet, heavy smacks that echoed down the alley. One hand stayed fisted in your hair, yanking your head back so your back arched, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave fingerprints. Every thrust drove you up onto your toes, cheek scraping brick, breasts bouncing with the force of it. He fucked like he fought—efficient, overwhelming, zero wasted motion. Deep. Hard. Claiming.

“This what you wanted?” he snarled between thrusts. “Following me for days, staring at my body like a fucking predator, and now you’ve got it. My cock rearranging your guts in a dirty alley. You happy now, freak?”

You could only moan, broken and high, the words dissolving into gasps every time he bottomed out. The angle was perfect and merciless, the head of his cock dragging over that sensitive spot inside you on every stroke. Pressure built fast, hot and inevitable. Your walls fluttered around him. He felt it and laughed, mean and breathless.

“Already close? Pathetic. One good fucking and the obsessive little stalker is about to cream all over the cock she was too scared to ask for.” He reached around, thick fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, rough circles. “Come on then. Come on my cock like the needy bitch you are. Show me how much you love being used.”

The orgasm hit like a truck. Your whole body locked, inner walls clamping down hard around the thick length buried inside you, a broken sob tearing from your throat as pleasure ripped through every nerve. Your vision whited out for a second. Toji didn’t stop. He fucked you straight through it, the overstimulation making you thrash and whimper against the wall, legs shaking so hard he had to hold you up.

“That’s it. Milk me. Take it.” His voice was rougher now, closer to the edge. “Gonna fill this greedy cunt up so you remember exactly who put you in your place.”

He shifted, one arm banding around your waist to haul you back harder onto every thrust, the other still working your oversensitive clit. The dual assault was too much. A second orgasm started building almost immediately, sharper, almost painful. You tried to speak—please, too much, more—but the only sounds that came out were broken moans and the wet slap of skin on skin.

“Listen to you,” he mocked, breath hot against your ear. “Can’t even form words. Just a dripping hole for me to use. That’s all a little stalker like you is good for. Taking cock until that dumb brain finally shuts up.”

He bit down on the side of your neck hard enough to bruise, hips slamming deeper, faster. The second climax tore through you without mercy. You screamed into the brick, walls fluttering and squeezing around him in helpless waves. Toji cursed, low and filthy, and then he was coming too—burying himself to the hilt and pulsing deep inside you, thick ropes of heat flooding your cunt. He stayed locked there, grinding through it, making sure every drop stayed buried.

For a long moment the only sound in the alley was both of you breathing hard.

Then he slowly pulled out. You felt the immediate rush of his come slipping out of you, warm and messy down your thighs, dripping onto the pavement between your feet. Your pants were still tangled around your knees. Your shirt hung open. Your legs barely held you up.

Toji stepped back just enough to look at the mess he’d made of you. His scarred hand reached out, two fingers sliding through the mix of both of you still leaking from your used pussy, and he pushed it back inside with deliberate, possessive pressure.

“Still think following me was smart?” he asked, voice low and dark with residual heat.

You couldn’t answer. Your body was trembling, oversensitive, thoroughly claimed—and somewhere under the haze of pleasure and humiliation, the freak in you was already craving the next time. He leaned in, mouth brushing your ear, and the words that came out were pure mockery wrapped in something almost like approval.

“Good. Because next time I catch you staring at my body like that, I’m not going to be this nice. I’m going to bend you over wherever we are and fuck the obsession right out of that pretty little head. Or deeper into it. Depends how much of a freak you still are when I’m done.”

He gave your clit one last rough circle with his thumb, making you jolt, then stepped fully back. You heard him zip up, the soft clink of his belt. When you finally managed to turn your head, he was already walking away down the alley, broad shoulders cutting through the dark like nothing had happened.

But the bruises on your hips, the come still dripping down your thighs, and the fresh bite mark on your neck said otherwise.

And the obsessive girl in you—the one who had followed him for days just to look at his skin—smiled against the brick, already counting the hours until she could stalk him again.

CHOSO KAMO

You’d been careful. Obsessively careful.

First it was Choso himself—shadowing the tall, pale figure with the dark marks under his eyes, learning his routes, his silences, the way he moved like something half-human and half-blood. You wanted every scrap of information. When you finally pieced together that Yuji Itadori was his brother, the obsession sharpened. Stalk the brother, learn more about the blood-user. Simple. Efficient. You told yourself it was research. It was never just research.

Tonight you crouched beneath the window of the quiet house Yuji sometimes stayed in, heart thudding, notebook forgotten in your pocket. The lights were low. You could just make out shapes moving inside. You leaned closer, breath fogging the glass—

The front door opened.

Choso stepped out into the dark.

He saw you instantly.

Those dark eyes locked on you like a blade. The marks under them seemed to deepen with pure, protective fury. In two long strides he was on you, one hand fisting the front of your shirt, the other slamming you back against the outer wall of the house hard enough that the air left your lungs in a rush.

“You,” he growled, voice low and trembling with rage. “I felt you watching. Hovering around Yuji. What were you going to do to him? Hurt him? Take him? Speak.”

You opened your mouth—to explain, to deny, to say it was never about Yuji—but Choso didn’t give you the chance. He spun you, shoved you face-first into the rough brick, one heavy arm locking across your chest while the other yanked your hips back against him. You felt the hard, thick line of his cock already pressing through his clothes, pure fury and something darker.

“I don’t care what excuses you have,” he snarled against your ear. “You came near my brother. You don’t get to leave until you understand exactly what that costs.”

His hand shoved under your shirt, palm rough and cold against your skin, then higher, cupping one breast hard enough to make you gasp. He pinched your nipple between two fingers, twisting just shy of pain, and you felt the first pulse of unwanted heat between your legs. The freak in you—the one who had stalked him for weeks—shivered.

Choso noticed.

“Disgusting,” he muttered, but his cock twitched against your ass. “You’re already reacting. You came here to threaten what’s mine and now your body is begging.”

He didn’t undress you gently. He ripped your pants open, shoved them and your underwear down to your knees in one harsh motion, leaving you bare and exposed to the night air. Two long fingers shoved between your thighs without warning, sliding through the slick that had already gathered. He barked a short, humorless laugh.

“Soaked. You were watching my brother’s house with a dripping cunt. What kind of sick stalker are you?”

He curled those fingers deep, pressing hard against the front wall of your pussy, and your knees nearly gave. He held you up easily, finger-fucking you with brutal efficiency while his other hand stayed locked across your chest, keeping you pinned. The wet sounds of it were obscenely loud in the quiet night. When he added a third finger you moaned, high and broken, and he only pressed harder.

“Quiet. You’ll wake him. And if you do, I’ll make this so much worse.”

He pulled his fingers free. You heard the soft rustle of his own clothes, the heavy shift of fabric. Then the thick, hot head of his cock dragged through your folds once, twice, gathering your slick—and he thrust in.

Hard. All the way. No mercy.

The stretch burned. Choso was long and thick, the kind of cock that forced everything else out of your head. He bottomed out with a low, guttural sound and stayed there, hips flush to your ass, letting you feel every pulsing inch.

“This is what you get,” he growled against the back of your neck. “You come near my family, I use you until you learn. Until that obsessive little brain of yours understands boundaries.”

Then he started to move.

Deep, punishing thrusts that drove you up onto your toes against the brick. Every snap of his hips was controlled fury, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the dark. One hand stayed fisted in your hair, yanking your head back so your back arched; the other gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, holding you exactly where he wanted you. He fucked like he fought—precise, overwhelming, completely in control of the blood in his veins and the body he was currently ruining.

“Feel that?” he snarled between thrusts. “That’s me teaching you. You don’t get to watch. You don’t get to follow. You don’t get near what’s mine.”

You could only moan, broken and high, the words dissolving every time he bottomed out. The angle was perfect and merciless, the head of his cock dragging over that sensitive spot inside you on every stroke. Pressure built fast, hot and inevitable. Your walls fluttered around him. He felt it and only fucked harder.

“Already close? Pathetic. One good fucking and the little stalker is about to come all over the cock of the man she was spying on.” He reached around, long fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, rough circles. “Do it. Come. Show me how much you enjoy being punished for your obsession.”

The orgasm tore through you without warning—violent, full-body, walls clamping down hard around the thick length buried inside you. You sobbed into the brick, vision sparking. Choso didn’t stop. He fucked you straight through it, the overstimulation making you thrash and whimper, legs shaking so hard he had to hold you up with pure strength.

“That’s it. Milk me. Take every drop of the lesson.” His voice was rougher now, closer to the edge. “I’m going to fill this greedy cunt so full you’ll feel me for days. Every time you think about following someone again, you’ll remember this.”

He shifted, one arm banding around your waist to haul you back harder onto every thrust, the other still working your oversensitive clit. The dual assault was too much. A second orgasm started building almost immediately, sharper, almost painful. You tried to speak—please, too much, I wasn’t—but the only sounds that came out were broken moans and the wet, filthy slap of skin.

“Listen to you,” he mocked, breath hot against your ear. “Can’t even form words. Just a dripping hole for me to use until you understand. That’s all a little stalker like you is good for.”

He bit down on the side of your neck hard enough to bruise, hips slamming deeper, faster. The second climax ripped through you without mercy. You screamed into the brick, walls fluttering and squeezing around him in helpless waves. Choso cursed, low and almost wounded, and then he was coming too—burying himself to the hilt and pulsing deep inside you, thick ropes of heat flooding your cunt. He stayed locked there, grinding through it, making sure every drop stayed buried.

For a long moment the only sound was both of you breathing hard against the wall of his brother’s house.

Then he slowly pulled out. You felt the immediate rush of his come slipping out of you, warm and messy down your thighs. Your pants were still tangled around your knees. Your shirt was half-ripped. Your legs barely held you up.

Choso stepped back just enough to look at the mess he’d made. His dark eyes were still furious, but something else flickered underneath—confusion, maybe, or residual heat.

You dragged in a shaky breath, voice wrecked and barely above a whisper.

“I… I wasn’t following Yuji.”

He froze.

“I was following you,” you managed, still panting, still dripping his come down your thighs. “I wanted… everything about you. The brother was just… a way to get closer. To learn more. I never wanted to hurt him. I just… wanted you.”

Silence stretched. Thick. Dangerous.

Choso’s expression didn’t soften, but the pure killing intent in his gaze shifted into something darker, more complicated. He reached out, two fingers sliding through the mix of both of you still leaking from your used pussy, and pushed it back inside with deliberate, possessive pressure.

GETO SUGURU

You’d been circling him for months.

Not the public rallies. Not the smiling speeches about a better world for sorcerers. The quieter things. The estate on the edge of the city, high walls and quiet gardens, the place where Suguru Geto actually lived between performances. You wandered the perimeter at night like a ghost, memorizing the guards’ rotations, the soft glow of windows, the rare moments when he stepped onto a balcony alone. Obsession had long since stopped pretending it was anything else. You wanted to be closer. You wanted to be seen by him.

Tonight you finally were.

You had slipped in with the evening gathering, dressed like any other new follower, heart hammering so hard you were certain someone would hear it. The meeting room was large, candlelit, full of soft voices and reverence. You never made it to a seat.

A quiet attendant touched your elbow and murmured that the leader wished to speak with you privately.

The side room was smaller. Dark wood, low light, a single long couch and a low table. The door closed behind you with a soft, final click.

Geto was already there.

He stood near the window, black robes open at the throat, long hair half-tied, the same elegant, almost gentle smile he wore for the cameras. But his eyes were different up close. Sharper. Knowing.

“Come here,” he said, voice low and warm.

You obeyed before you could think. Your cheeks were already burning.

“I… I’ve admired you for a long time,” you started, the words tumbling out too fast. “Everything you stand for. The way you speak. The way you—”

“I know.”

Two words. Soft. Absolute.

He stepped closer, stopping only when he was near enough that you could smell the faint incense on his clothes. One long-fingered hand lifted, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“You’ve been walking the edges of my estate for eleven weeks,” he continued, almost fond. “Sometimes at dusk. Sometimes after midnight. You never crossed the walls until tonight. You watched the windows. You learned the guards. You waited until you could walk in as one of mine.” His thumb brushed the corner of your mouth. “Such dedication. Such quiet, hungry patience. I find it… admirable.”

Your breath caught. Praise from him felt like a hand closing around your throat in the best way.

“I asked for you specifically tonight,” he went on, still soft. “Because obsession this pure deserves to be acknowledged. And because I decided I no longer wanted to simply be watched.”

His other hand settled at your waist, firm, guiding you backward until the backs of your thighs met the edge of the couch. He pressed you down to sit, then followed, kneeling between your knees with that same serene smile.

“You came here blushing and ready to recite every beautiful thing you think about me,” he murmured. “How sweet. How transparent.” He leaned in, lips almost brushing yours. “I’m going to fuck you until that pretty admiration turns into something far less polite. And you’re going to thank me for it.”

You didn’t get the chance to answer.

His mouth claimed yours—deep, controlled, devastating. He kissed like he preached: patient at first, then absolute. Tongue sliding against yours, teeth catching your lower lip, one hand sliding up into your hair to hold you exactly where he wanted. When he finally pulled back you were already panting.

“Clothes off,” he said quietly. “All of them. Slowly. I want to watch the little stalker who finally got inside.”

Your hands shook as you obeyed. Shirt. Bra. The rest. He never looked away, dark eyes tracking every inch of skin you revealed. When you were bare he made a soft, approving sound and rose just enough to shed his own outer robe. The body beneath was lean, powerful, marked with the quiet discipline of a man who had once been a sorcerer and now ruled something far larger.

He pushed you farther back onto the couch and spread your thighs with deliberate hands.

“So wet already,” he observed, two long fingers sliding through your folds without preamble. “All those nights outside the walls, and this is what you were imagining. Being called into a private room. Being praised. Being used.” He curled those fingers deep, pressing firmly against the front wall of your pussy until your hips jerked. “Good. I prefer honesty in my followers.”

He fingered you with the same elegant control he used for everything else—precise, relentless, watching every twitch of your face. When he added a third finger you whimpered, and he only smiled.

“That’s it. Open for me. You’ve waited long enough.”

He withdrew his fingers, slick and shining, and replaced them with the thick head of his cock. He didn’t tease. He sank in with one long, controlled thrust that stole the air from your lungs. The stretch was perfect, deep, overwhelming. He bottomed out and stayed there, hips flush to yours, letting you feel every inch while he studied your face.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Taking me so well. All that careful stalking, all that quiet hunger, and now you’re full of the man you watched from the dark.” He rolled his hips once, slow and devastating. “Praise suits you. So does this.”

Then he started to move.

Hard. Deep. Measured at first, then steadily more punishing. The couch creaked under every thrust. One hand braced beside your head; the other gripped your thigh and folded it higher so he could drive even deeper. Every snap of his hips forced a broken sound from your throat. He fucked like he led—absolute, deliberate, leaving no room for anything but him.

“You’ve been so patient,” he said between thrusts, voice still low and almost gentle even as he used you. “Walking my walls. Learning my patterns. Waiting for a way inside. I should reward that kind of devotion.” He angled sharper, the head of his cock dragging over that perfect spot inside you on every stroke. “Come on my cock for me. Show me how good it feels to finally be seen.”

The orgasm hit hard and sudden, your walls clamping down around him as you sobbed his name. He didn’t stop. He fucked you through it, the overstimulation making you writhe, and only when the worst of the shaking faded did he lean down and speak against your mouth.

“Again.”

He reached between your bodies, two fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight, relentless circles while his hips kept pounding. The dual assault was merciless. A second climax built almost immediately, sharper, almost too much. You tried to speak—please, too much, more—but the only sounds that left you were broken, needy moans.

“That’s my devoted little stalker,” he praised, voice roughening at the edges. “Taking everything I give. Letting me use this body the way you’ve been imagining for weeks. You’re perfect like this. Open. Honest. Mine for the evening.”

He bit the side of your throat hard enough to mark, hips slamming deeper, faster. The second orgasm tore through you without mercy. Your back arched clean off the cushions, inner walls fluttering and squeezing around him in helpless waves. Geto cursed softly—the first crack in that perfect composure—and then he was coming too, burying himself to the hilt and pulsing deep inside you, flooding you with heat.

He stayed locked there for a long moment, forehead resting against yours, breathing controlled again even as his cock still twitched inside you.

When he finally pulled out, the rush of his come slipping down your thighs felt deliberate. He watched it with quiet satisfaction, then reached down and pushed two fingers back inside you, keeping everything where he wanted it.

“You did well,” he said softly. “Coming to me. Admitting what you are. Taking what I decided to give.” His free hand stroked once through your hair, almost tender. “But obsession this strong doesn’t simply stop because it was indulged once.”

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

“You’ll keep coming to the gatherings. You’ll keep watching when you think I don’t notice. And when I decide I want you again, you’ll already be wet and ready the moment I call you into a private room. Do you understand?”

You could only nod, still trembling, still full of him, the praise and the hard fucking tangled so tightly together that you no longer knew which had ruined you more.

Geto smiled—that same serene, knowing smile—and pressed one last soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Good girl. Now get dressed. The others will be waiting. And try not to look quite so thoroughly fucked when you rejoin them.”

He rose, already pulling his robe back into place, every inch the composed cult leader again.

You stayed on the couch a moment longer, legs still open, come still leaking, cheeks still burning—and the obsessive girl who had finally gotten inside his walls already knew she would be back the moment he allowed it.

Ⓒ𝑭𝑨𝒀𝑳𝑬𝑹𝑶---𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

[rengoatku]

Suguru and his pretty first mate 𓊝 ꒰ mdni ꒱

ac — @/alinascorner tiktok

Being the captain’s favourite came with many perks.

“Ngh —Captain! The crew may hear!” Yet you made no effort to cease the rocking of your hips into his eager mouth. Suguru chuckled, violet eyes glinting up at you, “Let em hear.”

He had perched you on top of his desk before kneeling between your legs and feasting on your cunt like a man starved.

The feathers of his earrings tickled your thighs along with the loose strands of inky hair that cascaded down his shoulders. He looked downright sinful as he devoured you, his hat slipping from its place on his head with every hungry lap of his tongue against your clit.

You felt the pink muscle of his tongue delve deeper within your walls, eliciting the filthiest of noises from your maw. “Captain, please,” you whined. “Mhm, cum for me first, sweet thing.”

He was always one to put his crew before himself.

Two thick, calloused fingers bullied their way into your cunt, stuffing you so deliciously full. A broken moan tore from your throat as he began to curl them up, up into your sweet spot.

Your legs trembled on either side of his head as the knot in your stomach tightened. Suguru’s tongue stayed glued to your clit, flicking and suckling on the bundle of nerves as he continued to pump his fingers inside of you.

“Too — ah — much, m’cumming!” Slapping a hand over your mouth, you came with a muffled cry, bucking your hips into his face as your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave.

Suguru groaned into you, eyes rolling back at the way you clenched around his digits.

Swiftly, he rose from the floor before pressing his lips against yours, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. One of his strong hands cupped your tit that had already spilt from your blouse as you began to work the buttons of his shirt. His free hand moved to free his dick from its confines; the leaky tip slapped against his abdomen with a lewd thwap.

He shuddered softly as your nails traced the scar on his chest. “X marks the spot, aye, Captain?”

He grinned as he pushed into you, thick cock stretching you out in the most painfully blissful manner. Suguru’s lips dropped to your neck, teeth grazing the delicate skin as he spoke, “Prettiest lass on me ship, aren't ya?” His hips began to move at a steady rhythm, shaking the squeaky desk with every thrust.

Your fingers entangle themselves in his raven hair, tugging the strands in an attempt to ground yourself as he bullies your cervix. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to yours once more, swallowing each sound you made.

“Captain,” it came out in a hoarse whisper as your body began to tremble. He smiled down at you, smug with the knowledge of how wrecked you were over his dick. “Yes, lass? Do ya want to cum again?” Your nails dig into his chest, causing him to choke on a groan and throw his head back. His thrusting became more determined, pulling all the way out to the tip before slamming back in deeper than before.

He tipped your hat off your head to replace it with his, keeping his hand secured to the top of your head to ensure it doesn’t slip off as he pounds into you.

A cry escapes you as your entire body jolts from the force. “Me pretty first mate,” he coos into your ear, gripping your thighs to haul you closer to him.

Your legs lock around his waist as you cum for the second time; slick drips from your cunt down onto the desk below, all while he continues to grind into you. “So tight for yer Captain, such asweet lassie.”

His hips still as he spills into you. The hat flops forward, shielding your face from his lust-driven gaze. Suguru flicks the hat upwards, “You alright, treasure?” Nodding, you lean into his chest, your own still heaving from your orgasm.

A sudden knock at the door to the Captain's Quarters startled you both.

“Er… Captain? Sukuna be threatening to haul Gojo overboard again…”

Ignore how the layout is weird and how the smut is weird too ok I’m on my period blame it all on that 🏷️ @kamislop @hangenism @valberryboos @silentfriday @moonlightbae2016 @winxclubluvrr @sujeiti @cherrytintedlens @azizxxxah @harrystylessexycarrot @belovedblanche @whimsicaluhvr @v4mpyyb4tzz @6x-x9 @shy-guy927 @jiyuspassion @love-d-luxe @eazelsleazel @popeheywardssecretgf @llovekats @horndogfornerdjo @yong-yong-ma-boi @qrxswan @urgentlynerdywyrm @zoekalia08 @megssleepygirl @beyaaaafr @kingjuliancypher @losergflol @1cckedheart @vanillaacreams @mysicnote @palanggaaa @lanispaghetti @tokkushin @iilovechoso123 @marmaryu @sincerelyherz @popeheywardssecretgf @chosoprettygirl @igoontoeveryone @spencerreidsproblem + join

[ohfreshlinen]

𓂃✍︎ 18+ mdni · pussy so good, sukuna taps in (longer ver.)

Loving Yūji comes with a package deal you don't necessarily know how to deal with. Granted, you've known and loved him first before this entire ordeal even happened and blew up — it still is a matter of when and never an if, per se, when it comes to his special situation.

Nearly a decade has passed since everything concluded: Gojō Sensei is unsealed and alive and has won the fight, Kenjaku is killed, lost a lot of people in the process, Yūji is permanently Sukuna's vessel (not a big deal anymore), and for some twisted reason, Yūji seems to stop aging altogether (the big deal). 

With Jujutsu Tech slowly being rebuilt to a "better" version, a lot of you have also opted to stay in the dorms for the mere convenience of it. That, and it's basically a coping mechanism for everyone.

And as with everything else, his predicament doesn't truly stop either of you from doing things you love and from being intimate around each other. But where Yūji excels in self-control against what's residing within him, it appears that the majority of that said will, if not everything, is thrown out the window the second you go and beg to be fucked.

And fucked real good. Or badly. Whichever way one wishes to put it.

Maybe that's partly on you, or him, or even both of your asses to blame. But, really? Can you blame yourself when Yūji looks stupidly hot all the damn time? Stupidly, massively hot and bothered?

Especially when he wears a simple white shirt which accentuates how broad he is everywhere, when he looks like his brain stops functioning and he's looking at you with only the thought of fucking you bone-dry, and his dick decides to run on autopilot and take him to a blissful place right between your thighs.

Yes, can you really blame anyone with how immaculate he is?

"So tight, baby," Yūji says between clenched teeth.

A vein appears in the middle of his forehead, contemplating whether he should start moving and ram his cock all the way in or give you a chance to adjust to his girth first.

"Ah, Yūji," you whine, "just go in. Stop teasing."

"T-Teasing? I'm not teasing, sweetheart." He manages to choke an incredulous and breathy laugh at your whining. "You think this is easy for me, too?"

You playfully slap his muscled arm. "Shut up! You know what I mean!"

"Damn, even after all that," Yūji grits. "Even after all the sex we had every night, you're still tight."

With a shuddering exhale, Yūji grinds forward, pressing himself deeper into your petaled hole until you whine and drag your nails up and down his back and coax him closer.

"Oh, yes, baby. Shit —yes, yes, — yes," he incessantly babbles. "You're sucking me in completely. I could come right here — shhiiit!"

His lips head for yours and capture you in a heartbeat. Your nails move towards the front where you lift the hem of his shirt to feel his toned stomach. A languid moan erupts from your throat, and Yūji relishes swallowing your sounds.

His name echoes past your lips soon after he breaks contact. Each drawl of the consonant you utter is like a song of reverent praise that effectively shuts him up.

"You're taking me so well." He whispers, eyes glazed. "Such a good girl you are for me."

"Baby," you whine again, locking your legs around his waist.

"I know, I know." Yūji moans at the feeling, more so when he feels your teeth tease the crook of his neck.

It's intoxicating; it leaves his fogged-up brain even more fogged, and it's taking him greater lengths to fight through both of your horniness to keep himself at a steady, level pace for you. Otherwise, you'd probably be limping for days, even resort to crawling if you need to get to point B.

Hell . . . that doesn't sound bad at all.

"Oh, baby, please don't do that. You know I'm sensitive there." He lightly scolds you, pulling at your hair in warning.

"But you taste so good, though."

He supposes if he's going to fuck you the way he wants to, how long he intends to, and the way you let him, then he's not going to deny you what you want to do with him, too.

In fact, if he isn't so gung-ho with you and your immaculate pussy that's still sucking him in greedily as he continues to stretch you, and if he didn't let his dick dictate his decisions, then he would most definitely relish the prospect of you dominating him.

Oh, because if you only know, Yūji would definitely submit to you. Maybe right now you'd possibly doubt that he would, given that he always wishes to be inside you or put you in positions you didn't think you could and do this or that for him. But honest to God, if you tell him to be on his hands and knees for you, he will get that shit done pronto. Put a collar on him or whatever — he doesn't care. Everything you could do to him screams sexy and a lot of sex. So, who is he to refuse that?

"Harder," you find yourself begging him, "please. Yes — yes, right there!"

Yūji's arms that are propped on either side of you buckle before quickly rebalancing himself enough to take most of his weight off of you. "Shh, Fushiguro might hear us. You don't want that, noh?"

"Then he should cover his ears!" You rebuke teasingly. "He knows better. Isn't he the smartest of the bunch here? Come on! He should put his brain to work. Chop, chop, Megumi!"

"S-Stop! Don't make me laugh right now." Yūji bites his lips. "I'm really horny, and I don't want to be un-horny because I'm thinking about other stuff that isn't you."

"Sorry, I'm sorry," You apologize, but it turns into a chuckle because you didn't think you'd be thinking about it, too.

"Relax for me," Yūji attempts to bring the mood back, salvaging what's left of it from your silly, little antics. "That's it, baby. Ease into me again."

Yūji's hold around your thighs changes until your legs rest upon his shoulders, and he pounds against you like an animal in heat. From this new position, his cock sinks further. Skin slaps against skin. While your breathing becomes coarse and ragged, Yūji sounds the same except for minuscule groans of pleasure now and then.

Then, he folds you in half, situates himself a little higher, and pistons his cock back in. You haven't realized you're drooling until he licks the sides of your face.

"Open your mouth." He says, and when you do, he spits twice. "Swallow."

There's a trail of saliva connecting you two when he pulls back. His eyes, however, are transfixed heavily upon the bulge that's appeared at the base of your stomach.

"Remind me to buy a mirror next time. I want you looking at yourself like this. It's so hot, I swear." Yūji drools. "You're so good, baby. So, so, good. Oh — fuck!"

Just when he spills inside of you, and you're about to come down with your first orgasm, another voice pierces through the solidity of the room and breaks your release easily as if he had done this countless times before.

"Enchain."

Suddenly the ceiling becomes the bed sheets as you are flipped onto your hands and knees. Your muffled confusion doesn't go unheard, but other pressing matters come first. Your hair has been forcibly fisted and yanked until your head is pulled back enough to see your lover covered in tattoos, and a vitriol laugh teases the shell of your ears.

"Yū —?"

"Brat's not here," Sukuna's voice rumbles deeply against your skin.

This is the first time he's ever graced you with his presence. You've heard stories of how Sukuna would frequently pop on Yūji's cheek or his hands whenever he's got something atrocious to say (especially towards your sensei and Megumi), but not once has he ever manifested and broken through Yūji like this before — and right in the middle of fucking, too.

"Heh," he yanks you closer, forcing you to look into his hungry eyes. The way he looks at you . . . as if you owe him the pleasure he has been denied for so long. "My vessel lost control. I want to know why."

Before you could have swung a cursed tool at him, to trap him within your cursed energy, enough to stall and call Megumi for help or anybody else should he decline, Sukuna slams your head against the bed and fucks you senselessly.

Is it to your imagination, or did Yūji's cock grow bigger? Because for some reason, when Sukuna thrusts into your hole, it's fuller. He is far more brutal and ornery with his movements, too.

"Take it all like you are meant to do."

This is wrong. This is terribly, insanely wrong. Here you are in the mercy of the sadistic curse, cackling like the bastard that he is that he found something to entice himself with, and yet . . . it's wrong to feel how good you're being fucked.

Sukuna nudges your legs with his knees to spread wider for him. His hands busy themselves by mockingly kneading your ass before slapping each cheek hard.

You yelp and bite the corner of the pillow hard. Unfortunately for you, Sukuna notices. He pulls you by the hair again, and tosses everything that would muffle your voice aside. There is a buzz of mischief you can feel swirling around his energy, but you can't decipher it all too well as he shoves you down to the mattress.

"Y-Yūji —"

"My name, brat —"

"—Y-Yūji, Y-Yū—"

"— I said my name." He slaps your sloppily wet clit.

Your back arches unknowingly to the sensation, and before you think twice about it, your body yields and your mouth muddles the name, "S-Sukuna!"

"Good, little one." He mutters sadistically, inhaling the scent of pheromones pumping out from you.

His hands are everywhere that he can touch you, and even when he couldn't reach parts of your body, Sukuna merely bends you to his will and lets himself have you any way he pleases. Since the brat's been constantly denying him of you, it's only right that Sukuna gets to have fun with you now.

He fondles your breasts. He pinches your clit. Your thighs are scraped in thin lines of blood that bring him more arousal. Your asshole is gaping at each tense movement he makes out of you. His canines sink to the thin skin of your neck so deeply, he can taste your blood, fueling him into a messy plethora of moans and pleasure like he's drunk on his own aphrodisiac.

"Again." He orders.

"W-What?"

"My name. Only."

"Su-ku-na,"

"Louder. I won't tolerate what you refuse to give me. Say my name again, little one."

"Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna!"

"That's it. Keep calling my name as you come."

Your orgasm comes to you like a torrent — harsh and unforgiving. Still, Sukuna doesn't stop fucking you even as you try your best to squirm away.

When you barely manage to make him pull out of you, and you start crawling, he easily drags you back.

"Oh? And where do you think you're going?" He lifts your ass and flicks your clit hard as punishment. "You do not run away from me, unless you want me to kill you."

"But, I need —"

"No."

"Sukuna, please!" You push his body away from you once more, desperately trying to get out of his strong grip. But damn, because of his strength and that it's also Yūji's body, and you know how sturdy he is, Sukuna doesn't budge. Not even a little. "Please, give me a moment."

"And what did I say?" He raises his brow questioningly.

He's fascinated by the way you react to him. When he lazily drawls his fingers around your inner thighs, you shake. When he lets his tongue graze the cup of your ass, you whine. And when he sniffs your cunt, and it smells promiscuously sour and preposterously sweaty, you sound like you're about to come again.

"N-Not there, not yet,"

"What did I say?" He challenges.

"I —" you sound close to weeping.

He pulls your hair. "What. Did. I. Say?"

"No!" You wail, moving restlessly. "You said, no!"

"Good. Ah, you're close. I can tell. I smell it."

And you are — were. When your orgasm hits you like a brick, your mouth could barely keen a sound. Your body caves and molds to Sukuna's shape. You don't need to look behind you to know that the bastard is smirking at how easy it is to make you submit to him. It's sickening since you already know he won't let this one up anytime soon, especially to Yūji.

There's an abrupt change between you and Sukuna once you feel his hold slacken. With him loosening his clutch around your chest, you allow yourself to breathe better and force your eyes to focus on your surroundings. That's when you realize you're flipped on your back, and your legs are locked around his waist again.

"S-Sukuna?"

"No, darling." Yūji breathlessly says. He brushes your hair away from your face. "It's me, baby. It's me. I'm sorry. I-I lost control. Are you hurt?"

Reassuringly, you shake your head and smile at him. "N-No, I'm fine. I'm more than fine."

"Yeah?" Yūji perks up.

"Yeah, baby." You laugh dumbly. "That was . . . quite exhilarating."

Yūji presses his forehead against yours. The heat is still visible in his eyes, though it is nowhere near as intense as the other pair you were forced to look at before.

"That was hot," Yūji admits. His cock hardens against your thigh. "Watching you . . . like that."

"It was," you breathe out. "It really was."

There, beneath Yūji's hollowed eyes, your gaze lingers towards the triumphant gleam squinting at you in reds and blacks. It tells you exactly what is going through Sukuna's mind: that he's heard of that and he's nowhere near finished with you yet.

You swallow dryly.

"Are you tired?" Yūji brushes your cheek tenderly.

You shake your head. "I'll be fine."

"Let me fuck you next, then. Yeah?"

Before you can respond in return, Yūji grabs your hips and enters you. He folds you in half, quickly telling you to wrap your legs around his neck, and then proceeds to pound you as promised. This time, he doesn't hesitate. He thrusts harder and harder, nails scraping against your skin for support.

He spots the mark Sukuna made on your neck, and he dives to your other side with a growl. He laps onto your skin possessively, and you can feel that he's lost all patience with being gentle because the moment he bites down on you, it's not out of consideration anymore. Yūji is claiming you.

"Come for me this time." He sternly orders. His hands lay flat on your stomach, feeling the bulge he caused. "For me. Come for me."

"Yūji — fuckfuckfuck — Yūji!" Something uncontrollable comes out of you, and you realize a second sooner that you've squirted all over him. Your juices drip from his bare chest and down to his untrimmed bush. "I'm sorry, I —"

Yūji stiffens. "What the fuck, Sukuna!"

"Enchain."

"Oh my God, Yūji, come back! Give Yūji back for the love of God!"

"Do that again. Squirt for me, little one." Sukuna growls.

"That was an accident. I — I — I didn't mean for that to happen." You admit, trying to regain proper breathing because, goddamn it, you won't be able to with this fool in the front. "Just give Yūji back!"

"Let me bring it out of you then."

It's obvious to you now that both of them have their preferences in terms of fucking you. While Yūji prefers that both of you are staring at one another and lose each other together in the art of fuckery, Sukuna does anything with you so long as either his dick or mouth is inside of you.

Sukuna lies down and pulls you up until your cunt is angled to his face. You grip the headboard for support, but then you realize that his hold on you is steady and firm. You aren't swaying even when he blows a warm bubble of air directly to your dripping mound.

Then, with his hold tightening, he buckles you down to his mouth and eats you out.

"Ah, Sukuna!" You squawk, gripping his hair. You hear the wet squelches you make from his tongue.

"You're learning." He commends. The deep gravel of his voice vibrates past your pubic hairs and sends you a jolt of pleasure that goes straight to your spine.

And just as when you are once again teetering on the edge of another orgasm, he unexpectedly stops with a loud popping sound and watches your reaction.

You try to move, yet he keeps you at bay.

Of course, King of Curses be damned, when you're this high in being so aroused and utterly fucked by not one but two of them, the consequences of your actions are the least of your concerns. And not even someone who's feared by all is going to stop you.

You swat his hands that are holding you away and rock yourself against his mouth. He teasingly fights for control, but you pin his hands above his head. A spark in his gaze tells you he's enjoying this bit.

Your hair hits his nose and grazes the top of his lips — but you hardly care. If Yūji doesn't care that you're growing your own little forest down there, surely Sukuna wouldn't either. And if he does, then that isn't your problem. He can return your lover to you and fuck off.

You're in a fit of moans and shameless whines, as you ride your pleasure away.

"Open yourself wider for me." He speaks quietly.

Your hands release their hold on him, and you reach down to spread your labia open. He sniffs you obscenely loud, then he seizes your pearl between his teeth, rolls it around torturously, and licks you hard. Instinctively, you buck your hips down on him.

Sukuna pulls a few strands of your pubic hair; it's painful, but it does the trick when you finally squirt all over his face.

"Fuck! Please, I'm coming, Sukuna! SukunaSukuna!"

He slaps your ass in delight. "Good, little one."

Sukuna's control weakens again, and you realize Yūji's coming back. You laugh deliriously, because any person would be wondering what on earth is happening. Never have you thought that both of them would —

"Aw, baby," Yūji coos. "You taste so good."

"Yūji," you call out tiredly.

"Are you tired? We can stop, baby. It's okay."

"No, I want you to fuck me. Please, baby? I want you."

"I've been trying to all night, but someone just keeps —"

"Lift her, brat."

Your eyes widen when you see Sukuna's smile appearing on Yūji's left cheek.

"Shut up!" Yūji slaps himself.

"She will love it. Lift her. Or I will be taking over."

Yūji snarls a curse or two, but obeys nonetheless. He hasn't had his own proper share of fill with you yet, thanks to some bastard.

He hefts you up with your back pressed securely against his chest, his arms cage you so that even if you move, squirm, or wiggle your ass against his throbbing, veiny cock, Yūji promises you within his hold that you will not be dropped.

"Fold her and raise her legs."

"Baby, I just want to ask if that's all right." He grinds himself to your ass.

"Yes! Fuck yes, Yūji! Just do it! Hurry up and fuck me already before he switches with you again!"

Yūji groans. He raises both of your legs until his head is placed between them, and then his dick slides back into your entrance fluidly.

You become a sobbing mess for him.

"Did I ever tell you how glad I am that you're so flexible?" Yūji kisses your collarbone. "You're so hot, being folded like this."

In and out. In and out does the motion go. Regardless of whether you're exhausted or not, Yūji's stamina is unbecoming.

Your eyes roll back, your tongue lolls out, and all you can respond to Yūji or Sukuna or even both at this point — you don't care anymore who is fucking you — are all the jumbled slurs of their names, of you begging, of you wanting more, and more, and so much more.

"Enchain."

"Su — kuna,"

"Submit to me, little one. Submit."

"I submit. I submit! I submit!"

"Let that shadow brat hear you against the walls. I bet he's enjoying hearing you right now, too. My vessel is pretty turned on by what's happening; he’s not even complaining about the switch."

"Ah! Mpmh! Ah!"

"What is the matter? Where are your words?"

"Mmmh,"

"Oh? Are you enticed by the mere idea that somebody else, who is neither me nor your brat, is hearing you being fucked too good?"

"Nng — mphm — I —"

Sukuna pinches your cheeks and angles you enough to look at him.

"Speak."

"Y-Yes! I love this!"

"Well done. Rub yourself. The brat won't stop talking my fucking ear out, so do it for him. I do intend, however, to make you come before he takes control again."

You nod numbly.

"Do not stop until you have come, you have squirted, or you have fainted. I care little what comes first or if all comes together.” Sukuna licks the spot where he's marked you. "If you had been born in the era that I was, I would've taken you as my —"

"I-I'm coming!" You pull hard at his pink hair for support.

"Then come, little one. Come as much as you want."

For the last time tonight, Sukuna's control wavers. But before he returns to his realm, you swear you feel the ghost of his lips caressing the side of your face like a lover he didn't mean to find.

"I got you," Yūji whispers, "I got you. Just keep coming, baby. That's it. You're my good girl. You did so well. So perfect."

Yūji, with his dick still inside of you, slowly lowers you to the bed, tucks a stray strand of loose hair behind your ear, and nuzzles you comfortingly. "How are you feeling?"

"Baby," you try to speak, "too full."

"I'm nearly there. Can you handle one more? For me? Can you, darling?"

"Okay."

"That's my girl." After several pumps and his own release, Yūji finally pulls himself out. "Just rest for now. You're probably too tired."

Without looking at him, you quietly ask, "Sorry, was it . . . too weird for you?"

"I was surprised that it wasn't . . ." He admits, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

Clearing your throat, you reach out for his hand. "Think we can do it again another time?"

"Baby, I thought you'd never ask." Yūji teases lightly. "But maybe we need to set ground rules. Wouldn't wanna complicate things, y'know."

"Hmm, true."

With what's left of your energy, you manage to kiss the tip of his nose before burying yourself into his warm embrace.

You pat the sheets. "Ugh, we need to do laundry tomorrow. Maybe before we go on the mission. Your bed smells."

"Hey! This is all from you, I hope you know." He pauses. "Wait, I like it. Can't I keep it for one more day?"

"Ew. No."

"Didn't hurt to ask . . ."

"Okay," you tap his arm to let you go, "gotta pee before I get an infection."

"Yeah, okay,"

The calm silence between you two doesn't last long when someone bangs against the door angrily, and you hear Megumi's voice calling out to you and Yūji.

And Sukuna. You might as well drag him with you, too.

Megumi also must've summoned his dog because you hear a couple of growls and something scratching the bottom of the door.

"Whatever orgy you all are doing in there, take it elsewhere next time!"

"Ha! And he could've said that shit sooner?"

© ohfreshlinen — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, or plagiarize my content.

for the premise of this fic, "enchain" is not going to be a one-time used deal between sukuna and modulo!yūji — i need it to be used multiple times just for the plot 😗

taglist: @asian-woody, @tynaisjoiningthegame, @dum-dumshitposts, @seekingnirvana12, @lem-hhn, @keanureevessmile, @jesuschristofficialforreal, @ch1yukii, @iheartkentonanami, @urbbyfacedangel, @sweeetlottie, @fartimagines

[f41ryb0nes]

the concept of leon discussing intel and/or mission strategy with his work-partner-turned-friend-with-benefits during foreplay, just before penetration... mmm...

a/n: a short one for ya :) I hope you like it! I took a pinch of liberties and made it during a mission because yum

tags: Leon Kennedy/fem!reader, any Leon (except 2), smut, p in v, standing doggy, hair pulling, creampie, implied fwb, sitrep as foreplay, mid-mission quickie

You and Leon spoke through ragged breaths as you fought for air between frenzied actions. In the middle of a mission, every second to spare counted, so each sentence cut straight to the point.

“Ammo?”

“Full mag, one in the chamber, five boxes on hand.”

Leon hardly nodded before asking the next question on his mental checklist. “Miles to rendezvous?”

“Six and a half,” you breathed. “What’s the plan?”

“Backtrack and circle around—“ a metal clink bounced dully off the narrow walls— “attack from behind—”

He pushed his cock into you with one rough thrust of his hips.

Your brows knit tight as your cunt stretched open around him, and your mouth fell open as he hit your most electrifying spots the very next second. Usually, he took his sweet time getting you ready, entered you slow, savoring every step from foreplay to finale. But in the middle of a mission, he throttled you from point A to B with the calculation and brute strength he brought to every other task.

He pulled out and slammed in again before you even had time to dig your fingernails into the wall.

Part of you was grateful. Each thrust had blunt force enough to knock the air straight out of your lungs, keeping you quiet as you choked on each moan that came out as nothing but a pitiful croak.

Another part was purely on cloud nine. You loved him like this. Fucking you into a cold wall in the middle of nowhere an uncertain many feet underground, gripping your hips as you teetered on your tip toes, your tactical belts rattling between your knees. His free hand found its way into your hair, pulling you back by it as he leaned in to grit into your ear.

“You should see yourself right now, taking me like a cheap whore.”

He sealed it with a kiss to your temple so you couldn’t miss the reverence that lived in such a crude statement.

A shaky whine left your lips as you turned to catch his eyes, and then the floodgates truly opened.

He held the back of your neck to bring you into a sloppy kiss, all fervent tongues and reckless teeth as he picked up the pace even more, pressing your body further into the unforgiving wall. He wedged a hand between it and you to flick his calloused fingers quickly over your clit, your wetness already soaking it along with most of your inner thighs.

You broke the sloppy kiss as stars twinkled in your blurry vision, toes curling in your combat boots, hands reaching behind you to hold onto any part of him you could.

“That’s it, take it, baby. You like it when I’m this rough? Yeah?”

“Fuck, yes, Leon. Don’t stop, don’t—“

“You gonna cum for me right here in this dirty storage room? Gonna soak all over my cock?”

“Leon, oh god, oh—“

If he didn’t have you seized in his big arms, you would’ve crumbled to the floor as your orgasm rocketed through you, hitting you like a seismic wave of ecstasy.

“There it is, fuck,” he grunted, his pace faltering as your cunt gripped him like a vice, each new thrust landing louder as you gushed around him, “so goddamn tight, I’m gonna, ahh—“

Your face buzzed from bliss as he pushed impossibly deep within you, burying his cum there, a shaky thrust pushing him even deeper with each new rope he spent until his whole body softened around you.

A brief moment was spent like that. Sweaty bodies heaving over each other, your heart rates in your ears, his damp forehead resting on your shoulder. The wall was now relievingly cool as you melted into it before you’d have to get back to relying solely on your tired legs to stay upright.

However brief the moment was, it was the most you could afford to remain like that. He pressed a hand onto the wall to steady himself as he stood with a gravelly sigh, and you closed your eyes to soak up the last seconds of rest as you heard his belt fastening back into its rightful way, clenching your thighs together and biting your lower lip as his cum threatened to pool out.

“C’mon,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face to kiss your forehead. You hummed in response, the only amount of stalling you could afford. He chuckled and smacked your ass, gripping it in his hands with a smirk. “Back to work.”

You gasped and looked down between your feet, where his cum landed in a milky puddle on the dirty ground.

[madamechrissy]

ღ one night with doctor gojo ღ

doctor! gojo x intern! reader- mdni

How did you end up with your thighs spread wide, your scrubs yanked down to your ankles and panties shoved aside, with your attending doctor and boss Satoru Gojo devouring your cunt?

He’s not just licking his pretty intern, his face is fucking buried, two fingers slipping into your hole, curving up to hit just your spot, the messy sounds lewd in his office. You’re bent right over his desk with your ass in the air as he buries his face deeper into your cunt, turning his head to slurp your lil clit in his hungry mouth.

“Mmnph!” You’re screaming into your hand, eyes rolling back in your skull – the hospital is quiet as it’s two in the damn morning, and you’re supposed to be leaving for the night – yet here you are.

Doctor Gojo's pretty face glittering with your slick, as he hits a desperate, messy angle, making your thighs shake, your ass arching for more. “Were you wanting this, pretty little intern?”

“Shh,” you whisper, but you have wanted it, how could you not want your doctor buried inside you? The kiss that you both shared in that elevator, the one you’ve touched yourself to last night in your bed, that kiss you tried to forget. You can’t ruin your chances of this internship, of being a top doctor just because Satoru Gojo is sexy, and his eyes are pretty.

Don’t you have more willpower?

You can’t remember any of it when his lips brushed against the shell of your ear and he whispered like a slutty freak –

'Want me to eat your cute little cunt, intern? I missed dinner today, I’m starving.'

Freak, freak, freak.

You’re not sure ‘freak’ covers what he’s doing, laughing softly as you squirm, whining into your palm, drooling against it. “Aw, can’t hold it in?”

Satoru is ruthless with it the more you’re rocking your hips back and forth, lapping at your folds with long, broad strokes with the flat of his tongue, slurping every bit of you up. He’s drowning in you, hands pulling your thighs apart even further, tugging at that elastic of your panties so he can jut his chin up, feeling the way you quiver around him.

Those long fingers sink back inside and stretch you wide, curling up immediately to find that one spot that makes your eyes roll back, your gasp ragged and desperate. “Inside me, please…”

“Hmm,” he pulls back with a messy pop, grinning as his fingers are coated in your slick, glistening all down his digits, pulling apart your plump lips to look right at your quivering hole. “I thought you said only this, remember sweetheart?”

“Once, once won’t hurt… r-right?”

He chuckles at that, standing up and slipping his cum soaked fingers right between your lips, you wrap them and suck eagerly, reaching back to feel his cock underneath those scrub bottoms, the material leaving nothing to the imagination. “Mmm!

“You want your attending to ruin your cunt?” His words are a soft taunt against your ear, you jolt as his breath tickles your skin, feeling his bulge press on the curve of your ass, pressing your body against his desk. “Slutty little intern, think it’ll get you in the scrub room with me?”

“No you dick,” you say after you yank his fingers, turning around and glaring, shoving his chest, his white lab coat falling ever so slightly. His lips are all glossy with your slick, making you blush. “Forget it.”

You slip up your pants and go to leave when he tugs your back against him, turning your face to kiss his lips, letting you taste yourself. It’s messy, dripping saliva and cum, you’re so needy you whimper, head falling back for his messy kisses. “I’d let you scrub in because you’re the best fucking intern, the smartest, has nothin’ to do with your messy cunt.”

“Such a dick,” you eat up his praise now, biting down on your lower lip – Satoru’s eyes are almost black with need. “You really think I’m the smartest?”

“It’s why I chose you,” he whispers, exhaling as your palm finds his cock again. “Been picturing you taking my cock since I picked you out from your med school graduation.”

“You’re such a pervert,” Satoru is a slutty pervert, and he feels no shame about it whatsoever, just a big white grin on his face, leaking pre through that light lavender, you lap it off your thumb, making his cheeks flush.

“And you’re slutty, wanting your attending so damn bad,” he turns you and lifts your ass up, folders flying and landing on the floor with light thuds, his mouth slipping up your throat, moaning against your skin. “Need my cock so bad?”

“You’re the one that wanted me in here,” your tit is in his palm, gripping it and squishing, thumb brushing on the nipple, swirling your areola and making it press up, your core clenching. You’re slipping his scrubs down, his cock slapping his belly button when he tugs up the top, pre dripping across his abdomen.

Satoru is huge.

You swallow nervously, even if you’re aching and soaked you’re not sure you can even take a cock like that. “Oh… fuck you’re…”

Satoru’s grinning like a little shit.

“You scared now, baby?” He taunts you, spreading your thighs and running his pretty pink tip between your folds, squishing as your needy hole is dripping down his length.

“Not scared,” your hands slip up his hard chest, biting your lower lip, looking at how he’s thickening more.

“You on something, intern?” He murmurs, tip pressing in, his hand shoves you till you’re on your back and elbows, breath making your breasts rise and fall, his hands slipping down your thighs to shove them higher.

“I am,” you whisper, eyes on his cock sinking inside your needy hole, inch by inch slowly disappearing, you’re so full with half inside you barely muffle your moan. “I’ve got the arm thing.”

You hold your arm up and he hums, slamming the rest of his cock deep inside, kissing that puffy cervix, balls smacking you with a messy thwack, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure. God how long has he wanted to be inside you? Since the moment he fucking saw your picture in a group of candidates for the top med students graduating.

Satoru’s been jerking it every day since you started your internship, every time your shoulders brushed against each other in the elevator, when you passed him in the halls and he caught a hint of your shampoo in his nostrils. He’s pulling back and shoving your top up, looking at the bulge moving in your tummy and sucking in a breath, your eyes catch sight and you blush all pretty.

“Good,” you raise a brow, then your eyes roll back with another filthy thrust in your gummy walls, quivering right around him.

“Good? Ah!” 

“Not pulling out of this tiny little cunt, god how she grips me? Fuck,” you’re done when he slams in harder now, one hand under your head so it doesn’t slam back on the desk, his other on your throat, moving faster. “You like that idea, me cummin’ inside? Isn’t it just once?”

“Jus’ once,” you’re already fucked out with a few more strokes, the way his curved tip drags on your inner walls has you spasming, whining out into his lips when he greedily kisses you. “Twice.”

“Hah we’re not even done with once,” he smirks against your mouth, choking your throat lightly, loving those pretty tears slipping from your eyes in pleasure. “Already planning fucking me again?”

“N-no,” you’re not supposed to fuck your boss, you’re not supposed to fuck Satoru Gojo – top attending physician, top surgeon. You’re not supposed to clench around his thick cock as he chokes your throat, his baby blues fucking insane as he gets pussy drunk off you.

“Ah, then I’m afraid I’ll ruin ya for anyone,” he slams so deep you both moan out, fingers tightening around your neck, just in time for someone to knock.

“F-fuck…” You’re about to cum and Satoru isn’t stopping, he’s pressing his cock deep and rolling his hips, grinning down at you like the psycho he is.

“Doctor Gojo? Are you still here?” He yanks out of you before you can find your release, making you whine out loud.

“You dick!” You hiss, he turns you around and lifts your thigh up, bending you right over your desk, cock slamming right back inside. “Ah!”

“Doctor Gojo?”

“Yes I’m here, I’m just about to leave though… can this ah-” fuck you feel good, he’s wrapping his arm around your chest to press a hand on your shoulder, dragging you further down on his cock, forearm muffling your noises.

Doctor Gojo is putting you in a headlock and giving you back shots, his stethoscope clattering down the desk along with your badge, eyes going hazy and fuzzy with how deep his strokes hit. You’re drooling right on his lab coat, feeling his breath against your ear as he exhales, groaning your name in a whisper.

“Can this wait till tomorrow?” He manages to say finally, teeth nipping your earlobe, cock dragging against that spot in your walls again, making your cunt clamp down on it. “F-fuck, you’re milkin’ me, huh? Greedy lil intern.”

“Yes of course,” you finally hear footsteps, you’d have paused fucking Satoru but instead you’re arching your ass for more, letting his big ass arms take you over, drunk on him, so much you forget you’re in his office and dripping right down his desk.

“This is s-stupid,” you mumble, his balls slamming your needy clit, heavy and full of cum.

“You feel this good wrapping me? How’s it stupid,” he cries out softly now, your name spilling from his plump pink lips. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you? Go ahead, lemme feel it all over my cock – hah bet you’re messy, gonna soak my scrubs, my desk, yeah?”

“Y-you’re annoying,” he knows he is, you glare for just a moment at the pretentious man but then he arches his hips and hits that spot just right, you shatter, cumming so hard you can’t see, gasping out and moaning against the hand that clamps on your mouth. “Mnhph!”

“F-fuck,” he can’t move for a moment, not when you’re gushing down his cock, dripping all over, cunt squirting and pulsing right around him. He shoves your collar down, teeth sinking into your shoulders, thickening as he fucks you through it, achingly slow. “You are messy, look at you.”

“Shh,” your head falls back against his collarbone, he leans you up, fingers brushing on your clit, pressing in pretty patterns. “S-sensitive, mnh… Doctor Gojo I…”

“God yes, call me that,” he’s a sick, perverted fuck – he knew that when he jerked off on your first shift right in the locker room, but he couldn’t know just how wet you’d get. “Slutty cunt is spilling all over, look at that mess, can’t help it, can you baby?”

“Mnh, shut up and fuck me,” Satoru moans and finally kisses you rather than talking on and on – mouth moving over yours hungry, he sucks your little tongue right inside his mouth, making you gasp for a breath, just to have his spit right in your mouth, choking on him.

Satoru’s fingers work your clit faster, getting another orgasm from you, this one even messier, pulling it up and slipping his fingertips in your mouth, spreading it around like a gloss. He kisses it off you like he can’t get enough of the taste, drinking it down with greedy gulps, cupping your face almost gently for a moment, your noses brushing together.

Oh fuck, did his cock just make you dumb? Your ears are ringing, vision swimming with tears from overstim. You can’t just fuck him once and hope to ever be okay again with the worst dick – which is all you’ve had. You won’t say it though, instead you kiss him so you shut up, before you’re mumbling you’re in love because he fucked all your good sense away.

“Want me to fill your cunt up, till you’re drippin’ me all night? Fuck I’d fill you with so much cum you’d drip me in this hospital, I’d bend you over and fuck more inside every time you think we’re done,” you’re pressed down now on that desk, he’s lifting your ass and pounding his cock faster. “F-fuck, tell me you want it, all my cum baby, breed this slutty cunt.”

“Psycho, ngh,” you’re letting him fuck you so good you can’t remember what your damn specialty was, your career, his dumb life ruining dick and huge ass hands bruising your hips. “Cum inside, fuck do it…”

“I’d breed you, stuff you so full, hope your birth control can even take it, hah – have you ever been filled, slutty lil intern?” Satoru’s unhinged as fuck, the things spilling from his psycho mouth is just making you more sensitive, thighs trembling, drool spilling from your lips.

“Just cum, you talk s-so much,” he groans now, thickening in your walls, you feel every vein, every ridge, the lines of him deep in your hole as his pre dribbles against your cervix.

Satoru busts his white ropes deep inside you, flooding you with so much warmth you’re stuffed, just for him to pump even more, lips kissing up your neck, hand entangling in your hair as he leans you against the desk, weight pressing you tighter against it. “Takin’ all of it, cunt was made to take me, say it.”

“N-no… I… mnh!” Satoru’s fucking all that cum inside you that is dripping down, feeling you tremble, your little cries echoing in his ears.

“Made to take my shape, hah you’ll only know my shape, yeah?” You’re too dazed to argue, weak and dizzy, just for Doctor Gojo to finger that cum right back inside your sore little cunt. For him to suck his mess and yours off those fingers. “God, fuckin’ taste us together.”

Having him drive you home because your legs are shaking too badly to drive, sitting right in front of your apartment as you’re about to tell him good night. Only to take his cock down your throat, already hard and ready once more, sucking him deep and letting it hit the back of your throat, drooling all down his glistening length, his hands entangling in your hair.

You’re swallowing around him reflexively, his whimpers making you soaked again, his cum still trickling out from you. Satoru’s got you riding him in the front seat of his little black sports car – ass hitting the horn, head hitting the roof, you figure it’s just twice, right? It’s still only one night, even if it's three in the morning, and he’s pumping so much cum you’re bloated with it.

It’s just twice when he walks you in – what sort of gentleman would he be if he didn’t make sure you got inside all right? What sort of man would he be if he didn’t make sure to lift you right on your wall and fuck his two loads of cum out of your hole that’s so ready she just takes his cock, no fingers needed, easier and easier the looser you get from every stroke.

But then when you squirt, you’re tight all over again, and you’re squirting so much you’re dehydrated, weak and collapsing against him. 

What sort of Doctor would he be if he didn’t re-hydrate you – making sure you have plenty of water, electrolytes added of course, and if he just left you like that and didn’t clean you properly!? No, Satoru takes it upon himself to lift your ass up on your bed, and kneel on your floor, lapping his own milky cum right from your abused hole, you’re hissing and tugging his white locks so good he comes from that.

Just from eating his slightly bitter seed mixed with your sweet juices, fuck does anything feel better than that gooey mix down his throat? No, he licks all of your pussy, your thighs, up your tummy, spitting it in your mouth so you can taste it too – why would he hog all of that to himself!?

And what sort of man wouldn’t stay the night, wouldn’t snatch up a couple pairs of panties for later while you’re snoring, wouldn’t stare at your pretty naked body and commit every bit of it to memory? If this was one night, he at least needs to have a mental image of his teeth marks, hickeys, bruises on your pretty skin.

You wake up with this psycho Doctor staring at you the next morning, grinning when your eyes focus on him, he’d fucked you so much you feel hungover from it all, trying to make the room not spin.

“Oh fuck… what time is it?” You mumble, Satoru peers at the watch on his wrist, a pretty silver rolex.

“Noon, but relax – got ya a day off.”

“How!? I can’t get any time off,” you lean up and he shrugs, smiling so damn charming with the light streaming in through the windows, casting a glow on his sharp features. You melt, how can you handle waking up to that in your bed?

“Thought you’d need a personal day,” his hand trails down from your waist, pressing on your tummy, making it heat up. “You took so much cum, sweetheart, sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll take the day,” you sigh and turn towards him. “You’re batshit insane, Doctor Gojo, you know that right?”

“Mhm,” he splays his fingers wide, humming just a bit, lips right next to yours. “You said one night, right?”

“I did,” you whisper, knowing you’re lying to yourself, looking into those pretty bright eyes and feeling dizzy from it, your entire body aching from being thrown into every position. “It’d be complicated…”

“Very, it’d be messy, ya know?”

“Mhm,” he’s resting his forehead on yours, letting you taste that breath, sweet even in the morning like he’s been sucking on mints. “I have to be serious about my career.”

“Very, can’t go getting knocked up and live in my mansion, huh?” You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Can’t just look pretty for a living, no – gotta work.”

“Mhm, I do need to work,” your hand slips down his chest, feeling his cock pressing against your thigh, hot and heavy. “It’d be a bad idea to do this all the time, right?”

“God yeah,” you touch his waist band, fingers brushing his happy trail, biting your lower lip as he studies you – intense, hovering right over you and rutting his cock with needy whimpers on your inner thigh. “If I fucked you in the locker room, if I fucked you in my office, the elevator…”

“S-scandalous,” you answer, stroking his cock and watching his cheeks flush, so goddamn sore but you can’t stand how badly you want him inside again. “I can’t just take back shots before my rounds, right?”

“Right sweetheart,” your thumb smears pre on his tip and he smirks down at you. “So no more.”

“No more.”

Satoru’s grabs your thighs, spreading them and placing his tip against your fucked out cunt. “Tch, what a shame my cock can’t give her what she wants.”

“It’s such a shame… r-really…” Satoru’s cock is buried in one stroke of your messy hole. “Mnh! O-one more night.”

“Hah,” he watches that bulge move inside you and grins, as if he’d let you walk around the hospital without his cum inside you ever again. “Sure sweetheart, one more.”

****

this was part of my angel @dollhousesinner's event!!! congrats on over 1k my angel I'm so happy you asked me to join innn!!!

[ajaxatnight]

Pavloving him drabble with frat!kuna x psychstudent!reader

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ +18 m.list

Your game had started off small, something you had thought of randomly one day when trying to figure out what your end of semester psychology project should be.

You organized ideas, drew hypotheses and set up your study data. It was all really simple — a study on which type of rewards create stronger connections between conditioned stimuli and their desired responses for humans.

Sukuna had fallen victim to you easily, already your tutee and situationship/almost boyfriend kinda for the past few months. It really was simple, your rewards would be two things: good grades lead to good sex and good sex would lead to good food. On separate occasions of course, you couldnt have one set of data messing with the other.

You wanted to see which would make your favourite frat bro more inclined to perform — food, or sex.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Experiment Log: Day 2 Study Sesh… Gone Right?

Your notebooks and laptops remained forgotten on his desk, your back currently planted in the mattress of his bed and his face pressed further between your thighs, groans slipping from his lips as his tongue fucked into you and lapped at your juice.

“F-fuck Kuna! Slow down a bit” you cry out, hand sliding into his hair as he shook his head against you, fingers gripping your thighs firmer as he pushed your legs back to give himself more room.

You had met up with him to check his grade for a test, having already put your study in action you told him youd meet him at his dorm. When the grade popped up on the screen, a big passing 70% you both were overjoyed (seeing as his usual grades were closer to 40s). Not long after you had spread your legs for him, offering him a reward for his job well done. Something he took happily.

Your head falls back against his rumpled sheets, the smell of him infiltrating your senses — something woody mixed with cigarette smoke, a smell you decided was so deliciously him, something youd hate on anyone else.

Your legs twitched around his head, lips sucking at your clit harshly as his tongue fucked into every crevice of your cunt, his saliva drooling into your already overly messy pussy. You grip his hair tighter, feeling yourself near the edge as you hump down on his face, coil snapping as his fingers dig into your plush thighs.

He hums in satisfaction, drinking you all in as you gush on his face, vision going hazy as you pant above him from the force of your climax. He pulls away from your sopping cunt, kissing both of your thighs before letting your aching legs down, a wide grin on his cum soaked face.

“What do i get for scoring 100 on the next one?”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Experiment Log: Day 6 Big Dick and McDonalds

“Fuckin’ hell- doing so good for me baby, so pretty like this” his rough voice groans out above you, legs folded over his shoulders as you cry out. His cock bullied into your abused cunt, every thick inch of him stuffed to the brim as he pounds into you roughly, biting and kissing at your calves as they rest on either side of his head.

“T-too much Kuna- ‘ts too big” you whine, skin sticky with sweat and his saliva, deep marks littering your pretty flushed skin. He grins above you but he doesnt let up, thumb circling your clit as his other hand locks your legs against his chest.

“Too much? Funny, before you said you needed more” he laughs, snapping his hips harder into yours. The loud squelching of your wet pussy fills the space of your dorm room. His head tilts sideways to rest against your leg, hips faltering as you squeeze around him, another orgasm ripping through you.

You shatter around him, ears barely able to register the sound of his voice and how he talks you through it, the ringing in your ears so loud as your eyes roll back. Warmth blooms in your gut as he cums inside you, hips fucking his seed deeper into your pussy, his groans filling your ears when you finally come to.

“Fucking love how your pussy takes all of me like that, shes so good for me, so fucking pretty stretched on my cock” he mutters out, dropping your legs to watch how your pussy clenches around him, cum seeping from your hole until it gathers at the base of his cock in an obscene white ring.

After a while he rolls off you, dragging you against his firm chest, face nuzzling into your neck. You brush him away when you can finally feel your legs, much to his displeasure as he watches you disappear into the kitchen, his eyes trained on your ass. You return a few moments later with a bag of fast food, placing it onto his lap as you get back in bed to cuddle him.

“Here, since you fucked me so good baby” he stares down at you, a pierced eyebrow lifting in question. You just smile sweetly at him as he opens the bag, eyes widening at the amount you got for him.

Hey, who is he to deny free food?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Experiment Log: Day 15 Frat Boys Can Be Needy Too

“A hundred fucking percent baby” he calls out as he pummels into your dorm room, a wide expectant grin on his face. You stare up at him with a smile from your sofa, ready for phase 2 of your experiment.

It had already been a while of you doing this, rewarding him for quizzes and assignments and tests, everything leading up to that glorious 100 percent that should guarantee a reward. It was this moment you planned to revoke your rewards, seeing how he would react.

You had already come to the conclusion that what you were doing here offered the better incentive for him to perform, seeing as your food rewards after sex often didnt actually yield any difference in his behaviour besides being slightly more needy and clingy in his demand for nourishment after the deed.

“Well?” He stares down at you, already moving to pull his shirt off. “Woah woah woah, calm down lover boy” you laugh out, a hand covering your mouth “whatcha think youre doing?”

He pauses, staring down at you in disbelief “what, you got amnesia or something? I want my reward for acing that stupid fucking test. Dont be a brat”

You laugh again, shifting on the couch as he pulls his shirt off, hands already moving to grab at you. “And what reward is that?” You smile coyly, his face thoroughly unamused.

“Dont test me, woman. You know what reward im talkin ‘bout. Had you screaming my name two days ago while we were studying” his hands pull your shirt off and over your head, lips already moving to connect with your neck. Your cheeks burn from his words, slightly embarrassed from the sudden jog in memory.

You swatted him away, hands on his shoulders. “You expect sex cause you got an 100?” You ask, needing this critical piece of information. “Fuck yeah, been two weeks of you rewarding me to this 100. Lemme make you feel good as a thank you, yeah? We both deserve it” he slides onto the couch next to you, pulling you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips.

“And if i didnt reward you? What would you do then?” You need to gauge his reaction, see how far hed be willing to go after you had trained him for 2 weeks straight, your study sessions practically everyday since the first time you spread your legs for him.

His eyes narrowed but he resumed his motions kissing over the column of your neck, sucking over previous bruises he had left the night before. “Id be pretty fucking mad, wouldnt you be?” He scoffed but there was a small pout on his lips, his annoyance clear as he demanded his reward, grinding you against the thick bulge in his pants.

“Alright alright, but only since you were so good for me and got your 100” he rolls his eyes, already pulling your jeans and panties off, fingers dipping between your thighs to feel your wet folds, a hum coming from him as he grinned in triumph.

“Yeahh whatever you say baby, know you fuckin love it too much to really mean that” he bares his teeth, grinning as two digits break through your resistance, sinking into your warm heat and pumping you open.

A soft moan slipped from your lips, hands planted firm on his chest as his middle and ring fingers thrusted slowly into you. His other hand moved to your jaw, fingers squeezing around it as he dragged your face forwards and kissed you roughly.

You hummed into his mouth, hips shifting down against his thick fingers as they curled inside you and rubbed your sweet spot. Your mouth fell open at the feeling, his tongue plunging in and tangling with yours, spit mixing together messily.

You moan louder and his mouth swallows up the sound, hungry lips devouring you as drool slips down your chin, fingers working faster in you as his thumb rubs your clit.

Your manicured nails bite at his shoulders, a familiar heat pooling in your stomach as you gush further onto the palm of his hand. You break the kiss, forehead pressed against his as your eyes squeeze shut, cumming as his fingers ram into your sweet spot and curl deliciously.

Your brain is fuzzy, body slumping against him as you squirt onto his hand, juices sliding down his palm and wrist, his pants and abs soaked.

You pant as your face finds his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders to hold yourself steady as his thick fingers pull out. His hand goes to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean while the other works at pushing his sweats down to free himself.

“Good job baby, bet that felt reallll good huh?” He nudges your head out of his neck, kissing your lips until you can taste yourself on his tongue. His fingers wrap around the base of his cock, nudging your entrance. His other hand moves to your hip, pressing you down onto it. You whine out loudly, thick inches spreading you open.

“Fuck baby, how you so tight even after i fuck you everyday? Always feel like a virgin” he grunts against your skin, hips bucking up into yours. You moan out loudly, his head dipping into the crook of your neck to leave fresh marks over fading ones, letting everyone know who you belong to. “Gonna fuck my pretty girl so good, make all that time you spent on me worth it. Dont even worry bout it baby, Sukuna’s got you”

Your hips sink down on him fully, his throbbing cock snug inside your tight walls as you twitch against him. Your thighs tense as you lift slowly before sinking back down, head falling backwards as he continues to trail kisses along your skin. He licks at your collar bones and neck, your face scrunching at the feeling of his saliva on your skin.

“D-dont lick me like a fuckin dog” your voice breaks as his hips thrust up into you, his hands firmly planted on your hips, blunt nails digging at your skin.

“Mmm but you taste so good” he grunts out, biting at your skin as his hips speed up their pace. He fucks up into you everytime he pulls you down against him, his tip slamming into your cervix as you cry out from the force.

Your hands grip tighter at him, nails scratching deep marks into his tattooed skin. He moans out at the feeling, head falling backwards against the back of the couch as he jerks his hips up faster until youre basically flying off his lap and coming back down with loud wet smacks.

“F-fucking shit! Holy crap Kuna” you cry out, the dorm next to yours banging on the wall for you to shut up. His hips never stop, even as his hand moves from your hip to reach behind his head and grab the back of the couch for more support. His teeth bite at his lip, eyes locked on your flushed sweaty face, tits bouncing with each of his brutal thrusts as he sends you spiralling.

“Youre so fucking hot like this, should make you mine just so nobody else ever gets to see you. Bet they couldnt make you cum like i can anyways” he laughs out before a rough moan slips from his lips, fingers tightening into your skin and the back of the couch.

“F-fuck- gonna - ohmygoddd - c-cum - shit!” You sob out, nails clawing down his chest as you crash on top of him. The pressure in your stomach snaps clean in half, body shaking as your thighs give out and clamp around him, whole body going slack.

“Just like that- good girl. Almost there just gimme a minute” his arms lock around your waist, hugging you tight against him as he uses your body. His hips speed up, working faster towards his own climax. You whine and whimper in his ear, so wet your pussy drools down his cock until his thighs feel sticky with your release, your warm tears against the side of his neck.

He lets out a strangled sound, bottoming out fully as he cums. You clamp tighter around him and his hips buck, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he ruts into you and drags his orgasm out.

You both go slack, the only sound between the two of you being your rough panting as you try to catch your breathes. He recovers first, littering kisses along your neck and chest, kissing over your neglected tits.

“Did so good, like always. So proud of you baby. Lemme help ya into the shower ok? Then ill cook for ya and we can cuddle. Hows that sound?” You nod, kissing the side of his face as your fingers drift into his pink hair, ruffling it further.

He picks you up, cradling you close to his chest, not pulling out until youre finally in the shower and he can set you down.

“Proud of you too ‘Kuna. Youre so smart, soon you wont even need my help” you smile up at him sleepily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as the shower turns on.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Experiment Log: Bonus Chapter Cumming Clean

“No way you fucking used me for this stupid project” his voice was rough, eyes sharp as they flicked from you to your presentation board. You laugh at the look on his face, only now telling him you had been using him as a guinea pig for half the semester, your data logs full from how much the two of you went at it.

“Is it really that serious Sukuna? Acting like you didnt benefit from it” you reach out, pulling him into your side. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, staying with you as you presented your project to whoever stopped at your stall, knowing eyes of other students and staff members flicking between the two of you.

He leaned down, his warm breath over your ear “i expect another reward when you get your grade for this” he kisses your temple, his hand craning your face sideways to look at him “oh, and for unknowingly helping my pretty girl out”

⋆⁺₊⋆

His thick bicep locks around your neck, your body planted onto the mattress as your hips are raised behind you, his own coming down to repeatedly slam into yours.

The frat house was loud, a party raging downstairs as youre trapped in Sukunas headlock, his cock beating its way into your abused cunt with every thrust of his hips.

You yell out at the feeling of being stuffed so full of him, elbows planted in his dark sheets as your nails dig into the skin of his bicep, his face next to yours as he leans over your body.

Lewd moans rip from your throat repeatedly as he fucks you — his reward for helping you get a 98% on your final project. Two bangs come from behind his locked door before cheers and laughter, Gojo’s voice breaking through the sound of the music as he cheers you both on.

You laugh, or at least you try to before it turns into another cry. Sukunas hand slips under your body, grabbing at your tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers. He licks at your ear and you whine out, grossed out by the feeling of it.

“How you still not - shit- used to that?” He laughs behind you, nibbling at your lobe before kissing the side of your face.

Your skin was practically purple at this point with how many marks litter your skin — dark hickeys and bite marks that have your friends asking if he tried to eat you the previous night.

“S-still gross” you whine, head tilting sideways to rest against the pillow that was his muscles.

His angle shifts, his knees planted firmer behind your own legs as he meets your hips harder and deeper, feeling him in your guts.

“Hows that baby, feel better?” His hand trails down from yours tits, smacking your ass a few times under the skin turns red before slipping to your tummy, hand pressing into the bulge that formed there from his cock.

You sob out, body jerking from the force of his palm. You nod your head, legs weak as you slump forwards, his strong arm the only thing keeping you up as you cry from the feeling. His hand on your stomach makes it so much better, makes you feel like youre touching heaven before he drags you back down to hell with him.

“S -so… ahhh! Nghh s-shit- b-better anh!” You babble incoherently, your eyes rolling back as drool and tears roll off your face and wet the skin of his bicep. You cum with a particularly hard thrust to your cervix, feeling like his cock managed to break into it as you scream out. You squirt over his skin, hips twitching against him as you try to ride it out despite not being able to feel your body anymore as you tingle all over.

“There we go.. bet that felt so fucking good, my dirty little girl looks so pretty” he grunts in your ear, cumming inside you a few moments later. His arm locks around your neck, head swirling from the momentary loss in oxygen before hes releasing you and pushing you onto your back.

He pulls out, cum seeping onto his dark sheets and he curses softly, watching as it floods from your stretched out cunt, his mouth moving to kiss over your sore bite riddled thighs.

“Mm that was nice yeah? Say thank you to me for getting you that 98”

You roll your eyes when you can finally process anything in the world around you, wiggling backwards against his chest as he sits up against the headboard.

“Thanks soooo much, you really did your big one” you say sarcastically, your fingers interlocking with his despite how you sass him.

“Thats a new record i think, 2 minutes after sex and i already need to fuck the attitude back outta ya. Funny how that works”

“Was this not reward enough? What else could you possibly want?” You glare up at him.

“Hmmm how bout… you be my girlfriend?” He grins down at you with a raise of his pierced eyebrow.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

a/n: superrr self indulgent as a psych major and much longer than i originally intended

Guys tell me if this should become a recurring dynamic ok bai :3

[luubug]

ᯓ★ mdni, Sukuna fucks his alien girlfriend 👽

reupload from my old blog bluukive, inspired by something @coralbae said once

Sukuna couldn't say you didn't warn him.

The first time your boyfriend whisked you into the intimate sanctuary of his bedroom, he shoved you against the door. With hands wandering and lips melding against yours in a wet, sloppy kiss, Sukuna watched your three eyes flutter shut and felt your forked tongue flick against him. Even though your skin was a shimmery shade of deep green, your boyfriend could see the rosy tint of a blush forming on your face and reaching your ears.

Yet despite your obvious arousal, an awkward little confession left your lips— one you had carried for months. "R-ryo . . . I'm not normal down there."

Sukuna had pulled back with a raised brow, tongue swiping his bottom lip. “Innie or outie, I don't give a fuck, baby girl."

That's obviously not what you meant.

So you told him, eyes avoiding his as you spilled your deepest secret. You expected Sukuna to laugh, to scoff at you or even leave in repulse. But instead, he only pressed closer, erection straining against you. "Oh? You're telling me your cunt's got a set of teeth?" A low laugh left him, throat bobbing as he swallowed through his arousal. "That's fuckin' hot."

That was just the beginning of your sexual encounter that night, and it had gone better than you could have ever imagined.

═══════

Sukuna felt like the luckiest bastard alive. Not because he had a hot alien chick spread out for him on his bed, but because he was yours. Oh, and the pussy teeth were another bonus.

Your boyfriend was between your parted thighs, cock leaking in his hand as he gripped it. His flushed tip brushed against the entrance to your cunt and quite frankly, he was confused. There were no teeth visibly— yet. But no matter, Sukuna was adamant on seeing where this was going.

“Open up, alien girl” he cooed, smirking with eyes honed in on your glistening cunt. Sukuna's free hand pushed at one of your thighs until your lips peeled apart, folds fluttering open until you were so utterly exposed. And then he saw it, just a glimmer, of pointed white.

You tried shutting your thighs, wincing when Sukuna's eyes widened. “Ryo—”

“Don't you dare.” The laugh that left Sukuna was ragged, guttural as he pushed your thighs back open. “Keep them open f'me."

When you nodded, spreading your legs wider without him prompting you to, Sukuna pushed in. Sukuna jolted when he nudged his cock into your warmth, drunk on how utterly needy you looked under him. The slick noise was obscene, reaching both of your ears as he pushed deeper into you. And suddenly—

There.

The faintest sensation of hard enamel grazing against the underside of his shaft had Sukuna hissing, his head dropping back lazily as a broken groan tore from his chest.

“Holy shit.” Sukuna let his grip tighten around the base of his cock, trying his best to hold himself. “You weren’t kidding, huh?"

You whimpered, shaking your head and gripping Sukuna's tattooed wrist. “I can’t—what if I bite you—"

“Don't care,” Sukuna muttered in a blunt manner, biting down into your shoulder and soothing the sting with a heavy tongue. He thrust into you experimentally, oozing out precum when he felt you trying to accommodate his girth. When Sukuna found himself able to fuck into you without pain, he thrust harder, dragging himself along countless rows of concealed teeth when your muscles gradually relaxed.

There was no biting, no aggression— just gentle grazing that was sharp enough to make him feel the sting, sharp enough to make his breath stutter in his quivering chest. “Hah, could die in this fuckin' cunt."

Every rut of his hips smeared precum against you, his cock glistening as it rubbed the seam of your body. The noises were filthy—slick squelches, little sucking sounds as your arousal mixed with his, the occasional scrape of enamel that had him groaning deep and broken into your skin.

"Shaking like a leaf." Sukuna slapped at your thigh, leaving a reddening imprint so that your thighs spread wider for him. His large hand gripped your jaw, turning your head so that he could see how good he was making you feel. "Pussy's starving, ain't it?" You whimpered, watching as his thumb nudged against your clit as he thrust erratically into you.

“Who's crazy enough to fuck you like this, huh? No one. Never, only me."

You let out a gasp when his cockhead jabbed against your walls, your nails digging into the bulk of his shoulders. “You’re insane—”

“You looove it, don't you?” He cut in, frantically rutting into you— all whilst relishing in the danger of it all. Sukuna deliberately let his cock get caught between your lips, pressing in tight whilst the plump ridges of his veins rubbed directly against the teeth nestled in your drenched cunt. “Shit, this is so fucked up. I'm so fucking hard."

And how obscene it all was— the nasty rhythm of his hips snapping, Sukuna's cock moulding your pussy to his girth, purposefully chasing the pricks and jabs against his length. The more you clenched and convulsed around him, the more you let your teeth kiss his cock, the harder Sukuna became. His groans turned deeper, all whilst he hunched down until sweat dripped down his body and his forehead met yours.

The rhythm grew obscene—his hips snapping, cock dragging over your pussy and teeth like he was chasing ruin. The more you clenched, the more those sharp little edges kissed his shaft, and the deeper his groans turned, until his forehead was pressed to yours, sweat dripping down his temple.

Sukuna was a man who prided in getting his partners off first— but tonight it changed. He came with a snarl, cock pulsing harder than it ever had before as hot spurts of cum painted your insides white. Your hips stuttered against his, your own orgasm following shortly after as he grinded each sticky drop of his mess into you.

For a hot moment with the air steamy between you both, all you could hear was Sukuna's uneven breathing and your own weak mewls. Sukuna brushed his thumb along your cheek, drawing you out of your post-orgasm haze whilst smearing the remnants of tears across your blushy skin.

“Better than I could ever dream of, baby.” Sukuna chuckled, licking a languid stripe along the expanse of your throat and tasting the sweat that had accumulated there. “Gonna make a habit of fucking this nasty cunt, alien girl. Extraterrestrial pussy has me on a leash."

You grimaced, feeling your ever so loving boyfriend pull out of you. He watched with red, greedy eyes as your cunt fluttered around empty air, cum oozing out of you in thick streams. “You’re disgusting.”

“So what?" Sukuna shrugged, lazily grinning down at you with hearts in his eyes. He pushed his tip in, just to feel your inner teeth graze against him for the final time that night. “I just love my freaky girlfriend, that's all."

[fruitsicake]

sukuna wants you to be real quiet on da creek ⋆˚࿔ ❤︎

the late afternoon sun filtered through the trees as sukuna led you by the hand along the winding path to the scheduled creek. he was dressed casually, black t shirt stretched tight over his massive chest and broad shoulders, dark jeans hugging his powerful thighs. he carried this overwhelming presence, tall, built like a fighter, with sharp tattoos peeking from under his sleeves and that signature arrogant smirk that made your stomach flip.

“thought you’d like this spot,” he said, voice low and casual, but with cocky edge. he’d packed a simple picnic, a blanket, a couple of drinks, some food, but the second you reached the quiet bank where the water pooled gently against smooth rocks, his intentions became clear. he spread the blanket, pulled you down beside him, and within minutes his mouth was on yours, hungry and demanding.

“you’ve been teasing me all week with those little texts,” he growled against your lips, one massive hands sliding up your thigh under your sundress.

“figured it was time i took you somewhere private. date’s over. now you’re mine”

you laughed breathlessly, but the sound melted into a moan as he pushed you back onto the blanket. ryomen didn’t waste time. he was on top of you in seconds, his heavy body pinning you down, the hard bulge of his enormous cock already pressing insistently against your core through his jeans. he kissed you deep and filthy, tongue claiming every inch of your mouth while his hands roamed, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples until you arched into him.

“fuck, you’re soaked already,” he muttered, yanking your pretty panties down your legs and tossing them aside. his thick fingers dipped between your thighs, stroking your slick folds before pushing two inside roughly. “this pussy’s been waiting for me, hasn’t it?”

he fingered you hard and fast, curling against that spot that made your toes curl, while his mouth moved to your neck, biting and sucking marks into your skin. the creek’s gentle rush filled the background as he worked you open, adding a third finger and stretching you for what was coming.

then he stood, towering over you, and stripped off his shirt, revealing the full expanse of his muscular torso. he shoved his jeans down, freeing his massive cock, thick, veined, and already leaking at the tip. he stroked it slowly, eyes dark with lust as he looked down at you.

“on your feet. bend over that rock.”

you obeyed, heart pounding. sukuna positioned you at the edge of the creek, your hands braced on the smooth boulder, feet in the shallow water. the cool current swirled around your ankles as he kicked your legs wider. he dragged the fat head of his cock through your dripping pussy, teasing your clit before lining up.

“remember” he said, voice rough and commanding right in your ear as he gripped your hips with bruising strength, “be quiet. i don’t want anyone to hearing how loud i make you scream”

he thrust in hard.

a choked gasp tore from your throat as his huge cock speared into you, stretching your walls to their limit. he was so fucking big, every thick inch forcing its way deeper until his hips met your ass and he was buried to the hilt. the fullness was overwhelming, almost too much, but so good.

sukuna groaned deeply, holding still for just a second one to let you adjust. “tight as always… fuck, this pussy was made for me.” then he started moving, long, powerful strokes, that had water splashing around your legs with every thrust.

he pounded into you relentlessly, one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your waist to pull you back onto his cock. the wet slap of skin on skin mixed with the creek sounds as he fucked you harder, deeper, his heavy balls smacking against your clit. every brutal snap of his hips drove him against that perfect spot inside you, making your eyes roll back.

“quiet,” he snarled when a moan slipped out too loud. his hand left your hair to clamp over your mouth, muffling your cries as he railed you. “that’s it… take my cock like a good girlfriend. let me ruin this pretty pussy right here where anyone could walk by.”

he was merciless, pounding you with deep, punishing thrusts, his muscular body completely dominating yours. the boulder scraped against your tits through your dress as he bent you further, changing the angle so he hit even deeper. your legs shook, knees weak from the intensity, but sukuna held you up effortlessly, his strength overwhelming.

“you feel so fucking good,” he grunted, breath hot against your neck. “squeezing me so tight… gonna fill you up. but you don’t get to cum until i say.”

his fingers found your clit again, rubbing fast circles while he kept that brutal pace. the pressure build unbearable fast. you whimpered and moaned into his palm, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes as he fucked you senseless.

“now,” he finally growled, slamming into you harder. “cum for me. quiet”

your orgasm hit like a freight train, your whole body seizing up, pussy clamping down hard around his massive cock as waves of pleasure crashed through you. sukuna fucked you through it, groaning as your walls milked him. with a few more savage thrusts, he buried himself deep and came hard, flooding your pussy with thick, hot spurts of cum.

he stayed inside you for a long moment, both of you panting, the creek water cooling your overheated skin. finally he pulled out slowly, watching his cum drop down your thighs before turning you around and kissing you hungrily.

“best damn date i’ve planned yet,” he said with that arrogant smirk, thumb brushing your swollen lips. “don’t even think about cleaning up. i want you feeling me leak out of you the whole way home.”

he pulled you into his arms, holding you against his broad chest as the sun dipped lower, already looking like he was ready for round two.

maybe he should clean his own mess from you once you guys get home…

ฅ^>⩊<^ ฅ: should i make a pt2 of munch sukuna? 🥹🤤