Husband!Satoru has been pissing you off all day. Not the usual “ugh, he’s being a little shit again” kind of annoying. No. He has been testing every last bit of your fucking patience. And when you finally call him out on it, the absolute bastard has the audacity to laugh.
You grab the nearest object and throw it at his head. The object stops dead in the air a few inches from his face.
The little bitch just turned on Infinity.
He looks at the object floating in front of his face, then at you. And because Satoru Gojo has apparently decided that today is a great day to die, he grins and says:
“Was that supposed to scare me?”
You take a step toward him.
He immediately takes one back, and his grin slowly disappears.
“Baby, let’s not do anything we’re going to regret.”
You keep walking. He takes another step back, hands slightly raised like he’s dealing with a wild animal.
“Sweetheart.”
Another step.
“Love of my life.”
You stop right in front of him.
“Turn off Infinity, Gojo.”
“...I’m actually going to say no to that.”
Your eyes narrow.
“Turn. It. Off.”
He stares at you for a long second, blue eyes flicking over your face like he’s calculating the risk.
“...Are you going to hit me?”
You don’t answer.
“Oh, fuck.”
You take another step forward and he immediately backs away.
“Nope. We’re keeping Infinity on.”
“Satoru.”
“No.”
“You’re a coward.”
“A living one, thank you very much.”
And that is how the strongest spends the rest of the day with Infinity permanently activated in his own house because his wife threw something at him once.
He doesn’t even turn it off when he goes to sleep.
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to keep the facecam on while you’re bent over the desk in front of him, one hand on your hip and the other clicking through chat donations like it’s just another Tuesday. “Yeah I’ll do the ranked climb later,” he says into the mic, voice completely even, then leans forward and pushes into you slow and deep. He mutes for two seconds, mutters “fuck, clamp down like that again,” then unmutes and answers a sub question about his sensitivity settings while his hips keep rolling.
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to make you sit on his face during the loading screens, tongue working slow and deliberate while the queue timer ticks down. Every time the match is about to start he lifts you off just enough to say “one more, don’t come yet,” then goes right back to licking into you like he’s got all the time in the world. When the game finally loads he sets you back in his lap, still dripping, and starts playing with one hand while the other stays between your legs, fingers sliding in and out in time with the fights.
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to edge you for an entire three-hour stream, never letting you finish. He keeps a toy inside you on the lowest setting the whole time, remote in his pocket, and every time chat donates he turns it up for a few seconds just to watch you shift in the chair next to him. “You good?” he asks casually. You nod too fast and he smirks, turns the vibe higher, and goes back to explaining the new update like nothing’s happening.
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to let you give him head under the desk during collabs, completely straight-faced while he talks to other streamers on Discord. His hand stays in your hair the whole time, guiding you slow, and every time someone asks him a question he answers clearly even as your throat tightens around him. When the call ends he looks down, thumb brushing your bottom lip, and says “swallow,” quiet and calm, with a slight smirk.
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to record a private video just for the two of you after a long stream, camera still rolling while he bends you over the same chair. He talks the whole time in that same low voice, telling you exactly how wet you are, how good you take it, how chat would lose their minds if they could see. “Look at the camera,” he says, gripping your hair and tilting your face up. “Wanna see later how pretty you look when you’re full.”
streamer byf ! satoru is the type to make you edge yourself on camera while he plays, just out of frame. He tells you the rules in that same calm voice he uses for tutorials: “Fingers only. No coming until I say.” Every time you get close he glances over, shakes his head once, and you have to stop. Chat keeps asking why he keeps looking to the side. He just smirks and says “checking something,” then turns the sensitivity of the toy up another notch without ever taking his eyes off the game for long.
᭡ kali’s notes ⸻ Guys I’m obsessed with him in this kind of AU... I wish he were real..anyway hope y’all enjoyed it ??mwahh !
This man is so fucking irritating in the best way possible.
He loves taunting you when you’re crying under him as his veiny, warm, bulging cock slides inside your little wet, creamy pussy. When you tell him to have some sort of mercy on your already well-fucked cunt, he just mimics your plead and challenge you to do something about it. Knowing you can’t.
“Ohhh!”
He copied your moan again in your ear, grinning smugly. He knows exactly what he’s doing when he’s fucking you like this—his cock is just so huge. You want him to stop teasing you. He’s been doing this for several hours and it’s making you sad. You don’t like this game anymore. “Stop d-doing that!” You sniffled and swallowed. He hums teasing. “Mmmh..” he pretends to think about it and deadpans his voice. “No.”
“Wha?” You look at him with puppy eyes at his answer. He has you in a locked full Nelson, his undeniable strength is keeping you in place. He repeats after you in your whiny tone and exaggerates it. “Wha?” You see his grin grow. Before you can respond he purposely speeds up inside you. You squeal and moan. “H-heyyy!” Now he’s ignoring you and fucks your pussy like a sex toy. “Do something about it. Crybaby.” He says. You click your teeth in irritation and sadness.
You can’t do anything about it.
“Sh-shut the fuck up!” He’s hitting all your nerves.
“No.” He simply denies.
His hips go faster into you and you’re on the edge of sobbing. “Stop it!” You cry, voice raw. “Mh-mhh..” he says teasingly. He knows you hate it when he’s teasing you during sex. Because then it just turns into him just being a meanie to you and your pussy. “Stop ittt!” He mocks you again. He bounces you on his cock and you sob harder, he has to and will make sure you feel it until your wailing. “Just a little crybaby, hm?” You want to just cry. It’s so embarrassing and humiliating. It’s true though, you do cry a lot when you’re overstimulated. So now he’s just pointing it out. You try to defend yourself but then he’ll just go faster and further prove his point when more sobs come from you.
“I hate YOUUUUUHHH!!”
“Oh please, cry me a river. Crybaby.”
And he makes you take it—you scream and squeal until all you can do is cry pathetic sobs as he fucks your pussy into a sickening orgasm. And then he makes you take more because your cries are so cute.
18+ MDNI, smut - squirming away from bf!geto during sex
you always do this. every time. every single damn time.
you say you can handle it and proceed to crawl into his lap all sweet and soft. pepper his throat with kisses. breathe all breathless against his neck like please, sugu. i need you.
and then he gives it to you. fucking you slow and deep. and of cousrse, your body betrays you completely.
your legs start shaking, back arches and you squirm.
every time, you squirm obsessively like you forget how it feels to be so full of his cock.
geto always just lets it happen, just for a second. he watches you try to crawl up the bed, squirming from the stretch of it. your fingers twisting in the sheets as your hips twitch and roll. his cock’s barely halfway in and you’re already trembling.
“were do you think you’re going?” he murmurs, low in your ear.
you whimper something into the pillow. you’re not even sure whether it was a coherent thought. he just laughs, softly.
“nah. you’re not going anywhere.”
and then he grabs your hips, pulls you right back down onto him.
you squeal delighted while your back bows into an almost perfect arch. your thighs begin to shake again due to that euphoric feeling, only suguru can ever pull out of you.
“baby,” he says gently, “you gotta stay still.”
you can’t. you’re trying so hard but u just can’t. it’s almost as if your body’s not listening. every time he moves, even just a little, you twitch. gasp. try to inch away from how overwhelmingly good it feels.
he strokes a hand up your spine and kisses your shoulder. all the while, keeping his hips flush with yours while you squirm and sob and pant into the mattress like you’re being split in half.
“you get like this every time,” he hums. “so fuckin’ sensitive. makes me wanna ruin you.”
you cry out when he grinds in just a little deeper. your body reacts almost completely instinctively. your hips twitching, trying to squirm away again.
he pins you down. one long hand flat between your shoulder blades. the other wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against him like he owns you.
“stop running from it,” he whispers. “take it. you can take it. can’t you?”
you nod, even as your body shivers under him. you’re so wet. the squelching of suguru’s cock stuffing your tight hole makes you blush.
“attagirl,” he praises. “fuck, look at you. so pretty like this. twitchin’ all over me.”
you whimper while trying to bury your face in the sheets. he doesn’t let you.
his hand curls into your hair, tugging gently. just enough to tilt your head back, let him see the way your mouth falls open with every sound you make.
“let me hear it,” he says. “don’t hide.”
and then he starts to fuck you in earnest. every thrust just a little sharper, dragging that wrecked little noise out of your throat again and again.
your body squirms, hips wriggling, fingers gripping his wrist, but it’s no use. he’s stronger.
you’re not going anywhere.
“that’s it,” he groans. “that’s my girl. look at you. can’t stop moving. can’t take it but you still want more.”
you’re going to lose your mind.
and he’s going to help.
based on this request
A/N: guys i'm sorry this was so buns :( i have to get used to writing geto 😃
your body is sprawled out on the bed. your legs spread open leaving your sensitive pussy twitching. you were left raw and exposed. your poor pussy suffering endless teasing what felt like was going on for hours on end.
a wet slap lands on your pussy, your body jolt and earning a whine from you. “see how wet she is?” you could snickering from both suguru and satoru filling the room. “our filthy slut.”
“who was it baby, making you this wet, hm?” your hips bucked up as suguru thumb rubbing right circles on your clit.
“you— s-sugu?” you whimpered. you felt another slap against your squelching pussy.
“wrong again, sweet girl.” gojo fake pouts “aw. poor baby.” you still can’t see, but you can feel everything. both their eyes watching you clench around nothing.
“please. I need to cum so—so bad ah.” you begged hips bucking up after another slap landed on your cunt. “sugu . . . toru. please.”
“the slut asked so nicely.” suguru laughed, thick tongue licked between your slick folds, drool dripping down his chin taking in your sweet arousal. satoru leaving a trail of wet french kisses on your inner thigh. the tip of suguru tongue circling your sensitive clit, lips closed around your clit sucking on the sensitive nub letting out a hum.
satoru pries open your thighs wider, pinning it against the bed before delivering a glob of spit on your dripping hole, tongue thirsting in and out of your hole. you gasp, your back arched off the bed both your hands flying down to grip onto their hair. you can practically taste your orgasm coming.
“m’im gonna— ngh cum ahh. .w-wait!”
“nuh uh. c’mon cum for us, gorgeous.” satoru groans both their tongues licking your pussy simultaneously. both eating away at your sloppy pussy. tongues occasionally touching each other, mixed salivas dripping to your ass. “cum for us pretty girl.” suguru bit back a moan.
you gasp, legs trembling uncontrollably with tears running down your hot cheeks. until that cord in your belly snaps releasing a stream of squirt spills out of you. your chest heaved, letting out shallow breaths.
“good girl. . . but we aren’t done with you quite yet.”
How your boyfriends!TojiKuna make up after an argument.
Bf!Toji x Bf!Trueform!Sukuna
cw: poly relationship, sloppy head, cum cum cum, fighting, big angry juicy men who love eachother <3 (FIRST TIME WRITING MLM PLS BE NICE 🙏)
All you wanted was some peace and quiet.
It was around that time in the evening, the sky painted in a periwinkle twilight, darkened trees casting broad shadows into the living room. You sat curled up on the couch, a heavy blanket gluing you to its plush as you flickered between the pages of a novel.
The boys were in the yard, sparring under the bright glow of a fire burning nearby, your nightly routine rudely interrupted by the sound of your back door slamming shut.
“Why must you be so sensitive?” Sukuna growled from the yard, stepping into the light behind a very visibly annoyed Toji.
“Sensitive? Who the fuck are you callin’ sensitive? You’re the one who doesn’t know how to fuckin’ spar properly, dickhead.” Toji barked, a large heavy hand hovering over the bruise forming on his lower abdomen.
Naturally, they’d had scuffles many times before.
Two large, experienced men practicing their craft by rough-housing with eachother—typical boyfriend behaviour.
But this?
Sukuna noticing a blind spot in Toji’s defenses and carelessly going in for the hit?
He had never fucked up like this before.
Maybe it was his ego—the king of curses having no choice but to let his pride overtake him. Or maybe it was his insecurity, having to prove himself to such a gifted fighter such as Toji.
Either way, the sight of his boyfriend’s beautifully sharp gaze staring pained daggers at him had his heart sinking in his chest.
“Brainless mortal.” Sukuna mutters sourly, causing toji to scoff and stomp down the hall to your bedroom, a loud slam! of the bedroom door following shortly after.
"So, you gonna tell me what happened?”
His jaw clenches at the words, like he’s trying to twist reality to avoid accountability.
“He wanted to fight—” He faces you, all four hands firmly planted on his hips as he narrows his eyes at you. “And he couldn’t handle it.”
Riiiiiiiiiight.
“Kuna—” You unfurl from your couch cocoon, lazy steps trailing towards his absurdly large frame.
“He seemed really upset.” Your hands find his chest, softly caressing the skin as you trail your prints up to his shoulders, neck, jaw. And with the feeling of your fingers dancing along his dense skin—a chill of realization runs down his spine, urging culpability.
A pair of hands find your waist, another tracing your spine and cupping your hip as he thinks it through with a loud huff. “I suppose I may have used more force than usual…” he mutters, barely audible.
And after gently cupping his cheek, drawing his gaze to yours for a quiet exchange, he’s off to your bedroom—stomping reluctant steps down the hall.
The air is tense and undeniable as he approaches, the darkness peeking around the doorframe mocking him with uncertainty. He enters quietly, Toji’s features illuminated by the phone screen beaming back at him.
His eyes flicker up from the device, his gaze sharp enough to slice right through Sukuna’s expectant stare. But he ignores him, continueting to scroll mindlessly—paying him no attention at all.
Sukuna crossed the space, walking to his side of the bed before sitting down, his back to Toji’s piercing regard. They pause for a beat, the tension like a spark in the air—a fiery heat burning bright behind each others eyes.
And with a final scoff of pure ego, Sukuna peers over his shoulder, every nerve in his body melting under his lovers softened gaze.
He looked so beautiful like this.
Laid back against the headboard—his large frame filling the beds surface. His chest, bare and tender to the nights fresh air. His stomach, sprouting a deep red blooming heavy pockets of blood, surrounded by splotches of pink and yellow pains. A map of bruises mark sukuna’s heartless strike, Toji’s muscles twitching from the pulsing ache.
“You’re strong, Fushiguro.”
And just as a sharp retort forms on his tongue, the words die as that familiar need sprouts deep in his tummy. He shrugs, eyes dark and begging beneath obsidian bangs.
Sukuna knows those eyes.
He notices the vague buck of his hips straining against fabric.
The faint twitch of his scarred lips, wanting and needy.
Every micro movement, every soft sigh and hum has sukuna burning at the cheeks. His ego roaring reprimands and justification, his heart beating a lustfull hum.
“I know.” Toji remarks, awaiting some sort of apology. Acknowledgment. Anything.
And to his surprise, the apology takes the form of his brute of a boyfriend shuffling against the sheets—his massive, four-armed body curling against him.
Toji’s breath hitches upon feeling him trace his abs, thick fingers lining every muscle, slowly working their way over to the bruise pulsing beneath his skin.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you..” Sukuna hums, eyes soft when they meet Toji’s. And upon holding each others gaze for a moment longer, the fluffy hair of Toji’s happy trail peaks with a hot shiver, Sukuna’s fingers slowly gliding lower and lower.
“Yeah well-” He begins, his voice hoarse from the sensation, “you did.”
Sukuna huffs loud, but there’s no bite to it. Just a remorseful, embarrassed sound laced with frustration and desire. He wants to fix it, he wants to make his boyfriend feel better, good, loved.
But for a man as emotionally impaired as sukuna, it’s not nearly that simple.
“I know.” He mouths, it’s quiet, simple, soft enough to soothe but vague enough to evade accountability.
“I’ll make it better.”
God, what has he become?
A domesticated freak of nature?
The man who’d grown accustomed to ripping people apart limb from limb, to burning civilisations, to destroying lives for his ego—now curled against his boyfriend, caressing the bruises he’d left to his skin.
And before he knows it, he’s dipping a hand beneath Toji’s waistband, cupping his slowly hardening length between thick fingers—the soft hitch in his boyfriend’s breath making his head spin.
“Ryo–”
His heavy cock twitching under every soft stroke, Toji’s hips buck up, desperately grinding against Sukuna’s palm. With a few thorough tugs on his aching length, he’s already hard and dripping over his boyfriend’s hands, pre-cum drooling over his knuckles.
“Better?”
Toji nods hard, eyes rolling and heavy lidded, expression twisted in reluctant pleasure.
“Yeah—mgh, better.”
And if the perfect friction of Sukuna’s fingers gliding up and down his shaft wasn’t enough, the warm pulse of his hot mouth certainly was.
In a haze of euphoria, he barely even noticed how Sukuna freed him from his sweats, his eyelids fluttering open to the lewd sight of his fat cock disappearing around Sukuna’s glistening lips.
“Fuuuuuck–”
A warm groan vibrates around his length, his boyfriend’s salmon locks intertwining around his fingers curling hard into the softness. Every stutter of toji’s speech, the barely-there tremble under his breath, it just fuels Sukuna’s desire to please.
He pulls back with a loud wet pop!, all four eyes staring straight into Toji’s as he continues to pump his heat. “Good?” He grumbles softly, only to be met with a deep, satisfied groan. “Yeah, mgh—good”
Sukuna shifts against the sheets, all four arms reaching out to further grab and hold.
One hand lands on the outskirts of Toji’s bruise, fingers dancing softly against the skin and outlining the purple and plum shape. Another sneaked up to firmly grab his jaw, forcing Toji’s gaze to meet his own.
He takes him again, supple lips drooling messily along his cock, sucking and squeezing around every thick vein.
And Toji’s losing his fucking mind, grinding and bucking his hips to kiss the back of Sukuna’s warm gooey throat. Fisting his pink hair, jaw tense against the firm hand holding him steady.
As the pressure builds, sukuna hovers another hand under Toji’s twitchy balls, a malevolent drooling mouth contorting out from under his skin, its long wicked tongue running smooth against him.
“God Ryo, ‘love when you do that.” He cooes, eyes bleary, chasing the high of his lovers lips.
He twitches, laboured breaths filling the room with hot humid huffs. “M’gonna cum—”
He spills generously. Thick heavy ropes of pearly white cum stuffing sukuna’s wet mouth, a mess of foamy saliva and satisfied release curling at the corners of his lips—bubbling down his chin.
It’s messy.
Globs of drool and cum coating Toji’s pelvis like a debaucherous painting, soaking into his pubic hair and smearing over Sukuna’s face. It’s nasty, sticky and gross, but it’s their own special mix that gets them high on eachother every time.
Another wet slurp! follows as Sukuna pulls back, his tired tongue flicking outwards to lovingly clean up the mess.
It’s too much.
The overwhelming sensation of Sukuna’s tongue gliding over every inch of soiled skin, littering it up and down with soft pecks and kisses. It feels like every nerve is ablaze, burning a deliciously mind-numbing heat all over his body.
He can’t stop jerking, twitching and thrusting at the feeling, desperate drops of cum still spurting from his sensitive tip—rolling over and pooling at the base.
“So messy..” sukuna hums before gently kissing a line up and down his shaft. “S’your fault.” Toji replies, their usual banter ever present.
“I know,” sukuna begins, gently tucking his boyfriend back into his now soaked sweatpants. “–It was my fault.” The words seemingly in response to the sticky wetness on Toji’s crotch were actually aimed at the deep pain still present on his abdomen, his lips gently brushing the skin and kissing it better.
“You’re an asshole.” Toji remarks, softly threading his fingers through his peachy locks.
“Mhm, I know.”
They melt away for a bit, humming along to each others heartbeats while exchanging body heat, off in their own little world together. Close, comfy, warm.
On instinct, they sense your narrowed eyes smiling at them from the doorframe, both of them perking up and gesturing for you to join.
A/N: Writing Trueform Sukuna x OlderBF Toji x reader poly relationship fanfic is so greedy omg ofc I want two BIG STRONG SWEATY men to be my boyfriends and also EACH OTHERS boyfriends. Also this is my first time writing mlm so hopefully it was good 🙏🙏
Synopsis: Jongho has had a crush on you for the longest time. the only problem? you don’t feel the same way. he thinks he can live with the burden of that. until one night, he decides that not having you is something he will never be able to accept.
tw: non-con/extremely dubious consent, somnophilia, degradation, dacryphilia, Jongho is mean, cream pie, jealousy, rough sex, possessive behavior. If you don’t like, don’t bother reading or commenting. thank ya!!!
Jongho thinks he’s had a crush on you from the very first time he laid eyes on you. You both were very young back then. Of course, he had no idea why his heart would beat so fast and his palms became so sweaty whenever he was around you, but a few more years down the line, he slowly started to put the pieces together.
Jongho had the biggest, most sickly and disgusting, raging crush on you.
But you didn’t feel the same way.
It was pretty clear that you had no interest in him. You were too busy gushing to Jongho’s older sister about boys from your university, none of them being anything remotely similar to Jongho. You liked boys who were older, much older, and stronger and bigger than you too.
You liked them smart and outgoing. Jongho didn’t see himself as any of those things.
When he first realized he was crushing hard on you back in his freshman year of high school, Jongho was still small and meek, a lanky boy with big eyes and a heart that beat for the prettiest girl in school. He still vividly remembers the first time he popped a boner because of you. He was truly a lost cause from the beginning.
But he was never brave enough to act upon any of his feelings. He thought that just getting to be your friend for now was good enough. everyone wanted to be friends with you anyway. Jongho guesses that having his sister be your best friend came to his advantage in a way.
But as the years passed, and things started to change, the one thing that remained unmoving was how you made Jongho feel. What used to be an innocent little crush that would make him swoon became something that started to intoxicate him.
Jongho’s mind had long since strayed from innocent thoughts of getting to hold your hand and ask you out on cute dates where he’d kiss you on the cheek and tell you how beautiful you are.
Jongho was not a little boy anymore. His high school days are over. He’s grown a good few inches since then. His body is strong, with broad shoulders and thick thighs that would make any girl swoon.
His cheeks have lost their softness, jaw chiseled and more defined now instead. His speech is no longer quiet and slurred. His voice is deep and his words are much more calculated.
His thoughts changed drastically too. He looks at you with hunger behind his eyes.
The hands he had once dreamed of intertwining his fingers with were now the ones he imagined trapping in his grasp, pinned above your head. The waist he had once longed to wrap his arms around and hold close was now one he imagined digging his fingertips into, leaving deep purple bruises in their wake.
The lips he thought of gently kissing he now pictures red and puffy from his teeth biting into them.
Everything about Jongho changed. He now desires you in a much more carnal way than ever before. but despite all that, you still won’t look at him.
It’s started to make Jongho beyond frustrated. having to see you come over and talk to his sister about every boy you’ve been seeing or hooking up with, when he’s the one that’s been pining after you for so long. it’s simply unfair and it makes Jongho want to pull his hair out.
He hates having to see you dressed in skimpy little outfits, prancing around their house and getting ready, only to go out to clubs with his sister where other men would get to have their eyes and disgusting hands all over your body.
Everyone else but Jongho got to have a taste of you and he was slowly starting to despise you for that. Having to see you so often became too overbearing when he realized you would never return his feelings. You would never look at Jongho the way he looks at you; with lust.
All that you see him as is your best friend’s little brother. That’s all he’ll ever be in your eyes.
Jongho fucking hates that thought with a fiery passion.
It’s not uncommon for you to sleep over at their house most days. Jongho knows you prefer being here rather than with your own parents, since they’ve never really been good to you. Every time his sister and you go out clubbing, you’re guaranteed to come back to their place and sleep over.
Lately, it’s become a much more frequent occurrence for you to come back by yourself, after Jongho’s sister ends up ditching you at whatever party you were at, for any guy she decided to leave with that night. Which left you to come back to the house alone.
Where the only one waiting was Jongho.
Most nights he’d sleep through the sound of the front door slamming and shuffling inside the house. But something made him startle awake this time around. Jongho is by no means a light sleeper, but today the sound of kitchen cabinets opening and closing rouse him from slumber, and the constant hiccups and loud steps padding through the living room wouldn’t let him go back to sleep.
It’s like that for a good ten minutes. The commotion keeps him awake, staring at the ceiling of his room with a scowl etched between his brows, until it stops. The house falls silent again, almost as if it’s just him and no one else. But Jongho knows he’s not the only one in the house anymore, and since he didn’t hear his sister’s bedroom door opening, he knows she must not be the other person inside the house either.
After another five minutes or so of silently staring into the darkness, he finally decides to kick the blankets off his body and get out of bed. The floor creaks as he walks and the tiles in the hallway are cold beneath his feet.
He wishes he had put some socks on.
Coming to a stop behind the living room couch he glances over at the tv that’s playing some sort of horror movie on mute that he knows he didn’t leave it on before going to bed. With a sigh, he walks closer and peers over the back of the couch.
Of course, lying pretty, with hair splayed over the cushions and lips pouted outwards, is none other than you. Dressed in nothing but a tiny top and a skirt that rides halfway up your thighs, your shoes not even off your feet.
“Sweet,” Jongho comments dryly, pursing his lips before walking around the couch to crouch before you. Shamelessly, he lets his eyes rake over your body, lingering on your exposed thighs, making his brows pinch together in sudden unreasonable frustration.
Of course you had to come in here, looking like a beautiful disaster, smelling of sweet perfume and cigarette smoke, with glitter clinging to your lids and cheeks, most likely drunk off your ass.
“You’re a mess,” Jongho scoffs. He doesn’t know why, but he reaches for your ankles, untying the laces that he can tell you must have struggled with, only to give up on. He slips the shoes off and starts to grow more frustrated by the second.
“Had fun, Y/N?” he smiles bitterly with no genuine joy behind it. He doesn’t even look at you as he speaks. “I’m guessing not since you came back all by yourself.”
You stir in your sleep, mumbling something incoherently before you quiet back down. Your hands are clutched into tiny fists by your head and your knees are bent up, curling into yourself. You look annoyingly adorable and Jongho can’t understand why he’s so angered by the image.
“Probably let yourself be groped up at the party, didn’t you?” He spits with malice. “Let everyone just use you right then and there, didn’t even wait for someone to take you home.” You don’t make a single sound, only breathing evenly as you keep on sleeping peacefully.
“Pathetic.”
Jongho knows he has no right to do this. To say these words to you. To see you as a slut even though you’ve given him no reason to perceive you as such. But it’s the fact that you want everyone out there.
Everyone else but him.
He doesn’t even think twice before his eyes zero in on where your skirt has lifted enough to offer him a perfect view of your underwear. The light coming from the tv is also doing a good enough job of letting him get a better look.
He shouldn’t. He’s disgusting. He’s cruel. He should feel ashamed.
He flips your skirt up.
The sight of pink lace makes his hands squeeze into fists and his mouth water involuntarily. Pretty, soft, delicate skin. Unmarked. Unclaimed. Right before his eyes.
Jongho is going to either gouge his eyes out or get his hands all over your unconscious body in front of him.
He opts for the latter.
It’s with a cautious move that he lets his palm run down the swell of your ass. Your skin dips ever so slightly underneath the pressure of his touch. The fat springs back into place when his fingertips dig in and out. Jongho bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.
Of course every part of you just has to be pretty and irresistible.
Jongho is positively seething at this point.
“No one deserves you YN,” he mutters lowly, letting his hand trail down to the back of your thigh, digging his fingertips into the plumpness of it firmly enough to make you whine in your sleep and flip over onto your stomach, offering him easy access.
“But i do.”
Jongho hooks his index underneath soft lace. His eyes drift briefly over to your face, before he focuses right back. The anger is still present. It’s finally time, he decides. Time to take what is rightfully his.
He’s waited long enough.
“I deserve this.”
Of course you’re still infinitely pretty everywhere. Even where Jongho’s never seen you before. He stares intently at your pussy that’s completely bare and smooth and inviting enough for him to part and expose your hole with two fingers.
You’re all soft and pink, glistening beautifully before his eyes. He wants to slap his palm right on top of your cunt just so he can punish you for being so perfect even where you’re not supposed to be.
He circles a tentative finger around the tight opening instead.
It’s clear as day why anyone would want to get a taste of you. You’re far better than any of Jongho’s wet dreams. Every time he’s imagined himself with his head buried between your thighs, it didn’t even come close to how good you looked in real life.
“Look at that,” he whispers, scooting closer and using his other hand to keep your panties pushed to the side. “How many cocks got to sink into this sloppy cunt, hm?” he tugs so hard that he thinks he can hear the lace slowly starting to rip in his hold.
“Who did you whore around for before finally getting to me, Y/N?”
Of course you didn’t “get” to him willingly. If you hadn’t passed out drunk on the couch and if Jongho wasn’t such a disgusting pervert, this would’ve probably never happened.
But alas, it did.
And there’s no going back now.
The feeling of moisture against his fingertips takes Jongho aback and it makes his jaw clench. Of course you’re wet from the faintest of touches. Pretty and responsive. Could things get any better?
Jongho’s hand is shoved inside his sweatpants before he even gets to blink twice. He’s uselessly fisting at his cock that is now undeniably hard, knowing that what he needs in order to alleviate the ache is to sink it right into the cunt he’s been ogling at.
Rising up to his feet, he tugs his pants low enough for his dick to spring free and bob into the open air, hot and hard to the touch. His eyes are locked onto your face, watching as you still sleep soundlessly, without a single clue about what’s about to occur next.
His knee props up on the couch cushion right next to your head. With one hand he takes a hold of himself and with the other he smooths your hair off your face, tilting your chin back.
“Pretty girl,” he sighs, circling the tip of his dick around your puckered lips. “All mine. just like you were meant to be.” His head prods at your mouth until it finally opens, lips suckling as if it was a pacifier. Jongho grits his teeth and tries his hardest not to slip his entire length down your throat. He lets you suck gently on the tip and drink up all the precum that’s being offered to you.
“Fucking cock slut. Look at you.” Jongho’s thumb pushes at the corner of your mouth, encouraging you to open it further. “So eager to have something in your mouth even when you sleep.” You whimper weakly, eyelids starting to twitch. Jongho pays it no mind, guiding his dick little by little inside your mouth, engulfing himself in warmth and wetness, making his balls constrict.
The sight of you sleeping so blissfully unaware with your pussy out in the open and your mouth stuffed with cock makes him almost shoot his load right then and there. Before he realizes it, Jongho has slid far enough inside your mouth to make you gurgle. Your eyes flutter open in confusion.
Strings of spit still cling from your lips and onto Jongho’s shaft, the sight utterly obscene. You cough, hand reaching forward to weakly paw at Jongho’s thigh, fingers grasping at the material of his sweatpants.
“What the fuck-“
It takes you a little while to be able to focus enough on the sight in front of you. You blink up weakly. “Jongho?” Your eyes need a few long seconds to adjust to the darkness, but when they do, they look as if they might pop out of their sockets when you take notice of Jongho sitting before you with his dick out in the open, hard and wet with your spit. “W-what’s going on?”
“Go back to sleep, Y/n,” Jongho’s tone was gruff and unwavering. A slight threat.
Your face falls. Your eyes take in the scene in front you much more clearly, face becoming overtaken by fear.
“What are you d-doing?” you ask, trying to scramble back. Jongho is quicker, though. His fingers wrap around your chin in a bruising grip before you can get too far. You stare up at him in pure horror.
“For once, just let me have this,” Jongho grits, watching as your mouth parts, but seemingly not knowing how you should reply.
“Don’t speak.”
“Jongho,” you whisper, squirming uncomfortably and still trying to scoot back when you see him grab a hold of his dripping cock, “Y-you can’t do this.”
“Why not?” Jongho scoffs, leaning in until he’s speaking right in your face. “This is all your fault, you know?” he spits, watching your eyes grow bigger. “You made me like this. Had me running after you like some sick puppy, only to kick me away like a stray every single time. You left me no choice.”
Your bottom lip starts to tremble, a yelp escaping from the back of your throat when Jongho grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you closer until your foreheads press together. “Why don’t you ever look at me?” Jongho asks, hurt evident in his voice. “Why don’t you like me?”
“I-I do like you!” You cry out, trying to pry his hand away with your weaker ones, but it’s to no use.
“Not the way I want you to.” He shakes his head, as though what he’s about to do has been decided long before this moment. The certainty in his expression makes your heart pound with fear. He releases your hair, only to seize the nape of your neck instead, his grip firm enough to keep you exactly where he wants you.
“Not the way I like you.”
“This is wrong Jongho, please!” You desperately plead, trying to kick your feet, but to no use. It doesn’t deter Jongho in the slightest.
“It is,” Jongho nods his head. He knows it’s wrong. He knows he should stop. But you owe him this. “I’m sorry.”
Before you have the chance to scream, the breath is knocked out of your lungs as Jongho manhandles you, flipping you onto your front. Your skirt is still flipped up, underwear hanging crookedly over your hips. It’s relatively easy for Jongho to reach between your thighs and cup you right on top of where you’re warmest.
“No, stop!” You struggle uselessly, cries getting more frightened by the second as Jongho continues on unbothered. “Jongho, get off, seriously!”
Jongho can tell you’re still drunk. Your movements are sluggish, your speech slightly slurred. You kick your legs weakly and try to scoot away, but you’re far too slow for someone who supposedly doesn’t want this. He uses that as an advantage.
A sharp slap lands against your cunt, making you squeak as your body stills instantly. “Let me have this,” Jongho grits out, anger roughening every word. As though this is somehow your fault. As though you’ve done something to wrong him.“Stop refusing me.”
“Please, please, please…let me go,” You hiccup weakly, trying to shift your hips away, but it’s no use. Jongho is already dragging your underwear down your thighs with one hand, the other holding your hands tightly behind your back.
“Why does everyone get to have you but me?” Jongho asks bitterly, like he can’t make sense of why you insist on denying him. “Look at this,” he scoffs incredulously, running a tentative finger through your folds. “How many people got to have a taste of this cunt before me?”
You gasp wetly, falling stiff as a board, as if all your fight or flight instincts have suddenly left. You can do nothing but breathe heavily as Jongho’s fingers start to run up and down through your parted folds. The first press to your clit has you yelping and trembling, as if a button had been pushed inside of you. Your body reacts against your own will, hole slicking in an instant. When Jongho’s fingertips come back sticky he chuckles darkly.
“Of course you’re wet,” He presses down even more punishingly on your clit, making your legs flail, mouth falling open. “You don’t even want me, yet your little cunny is gushing at the slightest touch.”
A shudder of humiliation goes through you. You think you should definitely be fighting a lot harder than are. Your high pitched mewls are not doing much to help you in your current predicament.
“W-wait, stop,” You gasps at the first hint of a finger near your opening. “Please!” Your pleas fall upon deaf ears as Jongho easily sinks two fingers down to the knuckle. He grunts. You feel snug and warm—like you’re trying to suck him right in.
Jonghos wondered for so long how you would feel inside. He can’t believe the day in which his questions are being answered has finally come. “Fucking tight,” he grunts, fingers scissoring inside your cunt mercilessly, adding another alongside the first two.
It’s a tight fit, but your gushing hole accepts it greedily. “Love your slutty body.” Your hands try weakly to slide out of Jongho’s grip. So weakly it can’t even be considered an actual attempt. Jongho wants to laugh at the futile attempt but he focuses on thrusting his fingers harder instead.
"Could probably break you right in half.” It’s not a lie. You looks so small and fragile underneath him right now. The words, although they don't sound like a genuine threat, are far from false. "Fuck you so hard that you'd ache for days on end."
You sob pitifully, face splotchy with tears and mouth overfilling with spit that dribbles down the corners of your mouth. This already feels like too much and Jongho hasn’t even gotten his dick inside of you yet. “You’d like it too,” Jongho continues to speak. He curls his fingers causing you to release a choked sound. “I know you would.” You try to shake your head no, but your neck aches too much in your position.
“Filthy little slut.”
A whine escapes you when the fingers inside of you suddenly pull out without warning, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing, still wet and throbbing in the chilly air of the room. You take that as a chance and desperately struggle to push yourself up when your arms get released. Jongho is on you in an instant, having climbed up on the couch behind you, hands forcefully holding your hips down. You sob softly as you grip onto the couch arm uselessly, blunt fingernails digging into the velvety material.
The breath gets knocked out of your lungs when you feel something prodding at your entrance. “I’m going to fuck you,” Jongho says without a hint of doubt. No hint of hesitation. Jongho wholeheartedly means what he says and you know that. Which is exactly why you’re absolutely terrified, heart now stuck in your throat.
“N-no, Jongho, please! I’ll do anything! Y-you can take me out—we’ll go on a date, and we can do whatever you want. Please!”You desperately try to reason with him.
On any other day, Jongho might have considered your proposal. He wishes it didn’t have to come to this for you to finally entertain the idea of going on a date with him. Jongho lets out a heavy sigh. “You’d do anything?”
You nod frantically. “Anything!”
Jongho pretends to think it over. He ponders with a hand holding his dick and the other pressing down on the small of your back, keeping you in place.
“Then sit still,” He finally grunts followed by a sharp thrust of his hips. A painful wheeze rips straight out of your lungs when he shoves himself inside your outstretched cunt, bottoming out in one go. Fat tears instantly roll down your already sticky cheeks, your frail body getting jostled forward from the powerful thrust.
“Shit,” Jongho grunts at the same time as you whisper another “please” that goes unanswered. “Always knew you’d have the tightest pussy.”
Your stomach stirs as Jongho begins to pull out, the drag feeling searing against your walls, only to push right back in twice as powerful. You think you see white for a solid moment.
“Oh God,” you moan, gripping tightly onto the couch as you get mercilessly plowed into. The worst part of it all is when it starts to feel good. You can’t deny how deliciously heavy Jongho feels inside of you. How well he’s pounding you right into the couch, making you feel small and helpless underneath him, completely overpowered.
You gush around his cock so much you’re sure you made a puddle underneath yourself. “Mine,” Jongho growls, lowering down enough so he can nip on the back of your neck. “All of you belongs to me, Y/n. This pretty little body of yours,” You cry out when your front gets lifted enough for Jongho to sneak his hands underneath your chest and cup your breasts over your top, “These fat tits,” you positively sob when your bra is pushed down and your perky nipples get exposed to the air of the room, twisted by skillful fingers, “This tight little cunt.” the statement is accompanied by a powerful thrust that you feel all the way in your tummy. “Mine, Mine, Mine. You’re all mine.”
You can do nothing but keep on moaning as you get fucked within an inch of your life, filthy words being continuously grunted in your ear as you unwillingly hurl towards an orgasm, screaming as you cum and let go all around Jongho’s cock.
“God, you really are just the perfect whore,” Jongho’s hips piston into you, making your ass jiggle with every powerful thrust, painfully overstimulating your sensitive hole as he pounds you with purpose. Before you can try to recover, and get a grasp on reality, Jongho is cumming hotly inside of you, making you keen high in your throat as you feel how deep he shoots his load.
You’re unable to do anything else but slump down with a defeated whimper.
“Good, so good. Did so well,” Jongho practically purrs, pressing kisses over your shoulder blades, still holding you down. “I knew you’d like it.”
You want to scream. To tell him that you didn’t like it. That it was wrong. But that would clearly be a lie. The only thing you can do is whine.
“Shh, don’t worry,” Jongho leans forward so he can reach your face, kissing your cheek tenderly. “I’m not done with you yet.”
You lost the power to protest long ago.
Jongho sits behind the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cornflakes when his sister walks into the house at the crack of dawn. She seems surprised to find him awake so early in the morning. Quickly scanning the room, she realizes it’s just the two of them.
“Where’s Y/n?” she asks, furrowing her brows as she tosses her purse onto the couch.
Jongho shrugs. “Dunno.”
She yawns loudly as she clumsily slips off her shoes. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me up.”
Jongho rolls his eyes, but a slight smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. He wouldn’t even dream of it. When the door to his sister’s bedroom shuts loudly, he deems it safe to get up and places his bowl in the sink before retreating to his own room.
The sun has just started to rise, and his room is engulfed in a weak yellow glow.
Jongho thinks there is nothing more beautiful in the world than the sight of you lying in his bed in the warm glow of the sunrise—naked and bruised, completely debauched and cum stained.
“Hi, pretty baby.” He smiles widely as he locks the door behind him. You whine from behind the makeshift gag Jongho tied around your head and shoved inside your mouth. “Guess what?”
You whine weakly as Jongho stalks toward you, carefully climbing onto the bed and hovering above you. When he frees your mouth and lets you catch your breath, he speaks the words you don’t know if you’ve been dreading or somehow excitedly anticipating.
“I get to have you for the whole day.”
You don’t even have time to respond before he’s kissing you again. And again. And then again, until the world around you disappears, until you melt into the mattress and into Jongho’s arms.
Where you belong.
A/N: I’m not happy with this but I couldn’t leave yall hanging. I’ll do better on the next fic I post. Thank you for reading though 🫶🏽
tojis sweet wife makes shiu a bit too jealous... ♡ (hubby toji x chubby!wife reader)
tojji is leaned back on the couch with one leg stretched out, elbow resting on the armrest like he owns the air in the room while shiu stands near the kitchen counter going through something on his phone with the expression of a man already regretting showing up.
"you really gonna sit there and tell me thats the cut," shiu says, not even looking up.
tojii clicks his tongue. "aint no tellin. it is the cut."
shiu sighs, already having had enough of toji. the damn guy was too stubborn. but before he can respond, the bedroom door opens.
you shuffle out first, all soft and sweet in your house clothes, smiling softly at both of the men. you spot toji immediately and your whole face changes, expression melting into something warm and familiar.
"..hello," you mumble quietly. your voice is quiet, sweet, still thick with sleep. tojis entire posture changes instantly like someone just reached over and rewired him.
"baby," he rasps.
his shoulders drop a fraction, jaw unclenching, eyes flicking over to you like youre the only thing in the apartment that matters. the scowl doesnt disappear completely, it never does, but it turns lazy.
"sleepin all day again," he mutters, but theres no real bite in it.
you ignore that completely and pad straight over, bare feet quiet against the floor, stopping right in front of him like its second nature. your hands come up immediately, smoothing down the front of his wrinkled t shirt.
after that, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his temple. toji exhales through his nose, something almost pleased passing over his face for half a second before he settles back again, letting you fuss over him without complaint.
tojis hand tightened at your waist immediately, and before you could step back he shifted in his chair, tilting his head slightly toward you as if deciding something without saying it. his grip guided you closer, and then he pulled you down and gave you one of those big fat kisses he loves.
he held you there between his hands while he kissed you properly, calm and heavy and entirely unconcerned with the fact that this was happening in front of an audience, his eyes flicked over to shiu, definetly showing off his wife, giving shiu a look that says 'yeah, look at her. thats my wife.'
when he finally pulled back, it was only by a fraction, your face still close, his thumb brushing once at your cheek like he was finishing something he started.
shiu watched all of this in silence, giving toji a flat look. you finally glance over at shiu, polite as ever even though you lowkey just made out with your husband in front of his best friend.
"hi," you say softly, and shiu nods once. "morning," he replies.
you stay there a second longer, then gently pat tojis chest like youre confirming hes still in one piece before shifting away again, drifting back toward the hallway.
"would you like some tea?" you ask, voice still gentle, shiu opens his mouth, but youre already gone again, disappearing toward the kitchen like you werent just the center of attention for a whole minute.
shiu slowly turns his head toward toji, and toji is still leaning back, looking way too comfortable for a man who was just arguing about money five seconds ago, one hand loosely hanging over the armrest like nothing in the world could possibly stress him out right now.
shiu stares at him for a beat longer and then exhales through his nose.
"youre a lucky bastard,” he mutters.
tojis mouth twitches like hes been waiting for that exact sentence his whole life.
"i know," he says simply, stretching slightly like hes got nowhere to be and all the time in the world. "aint she cute?"
.˚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.
husband!nanami calms you down after you have a meltdown trying to find something to wear
warnings. fem!reader, body worship, praise, kissing, clit play, body image issues, nipple play, implied plus sized reader but read how you like, general insecurities, fluffy smut. nsfw 18+ mdni.
──── ୨୧ ────
You’d been trying to get dressed for the last hour.
More precisely, you’d been trying to find anything at all that didn’t make you feel bloated, or oddly proportioned, or downright ugly to wear to your husband’s very important work event, which also just so happened to be happening very soon.
You’d torn your shared wardrobe apart. Scattered every dress or piece of party attire you think you’d ever owned across every square inch of your bedroom, and yet here you stood, buck naked aside from the old band shirt you’d tugged on in a furious fit after the last dress you’d tried on had made you feel like a trussed up Christmas turkey.
With tears prickling hotly in your eyes and a sob threatening to break free in your throat, you tossed yourself onto your bed. Wallowing amidst a plethora of abandoned gowns and several shoes missing their pairs.
Your husband, for all his patience and tact, had remained at your side throughout the ordeal. Silent aside from a few well intended comments which, by no fault of his own, had only left you spiralling further.
He now settled onto the bed beside you, a quiet, steady presence. You listened to the gentle creak of the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he leaned over you, studying your expression with a concerned one of his own.
“Kento,” you huffed, “I’m trying to- ah…”
The sudden heat of his fingers stole any further words from you, his hand slipping between your bare thighs with a precision that was almost alarming.
“I know sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, like his fingers weren’t beginning to tease over your clit, rubbing slow firm circles into you, “but you’re going to work yourself into a state.”
Your jaw was slack, glossy eyes downturned just to watch his wrist curl between your thighs, which had split almost immediately either side of his forearm.
“Just relax for me, just for a minute.”
The circles he was drawing were beginning to sound wet, sloppy where you were easing into his touch, body betraying you in favour of the delicious friction of his fingers.
“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he cooed, leaning in to brush his lips over your throat, feel the gentle hum of your pulse against his lips as his spare hand thumbed at the hem of your shirt.
“You’re worried over nothing, you look beautiful in everything.”
You shook you head limply, but he didn’t back down, instead the hand petting at the hem of your shirt stilled, then lifted, slowly peeling the fabric up. The reveal was slow, inch by inch new of skin - your hips, the curve of your belly, the soft peaks of your chest - until your entire abdomen lay bare atop the crinkled sheets.
“Ken,” you huffed, lower lip pushed out into a pout as you blinked down at your exposed body past the crumpled neck of your shirt, the same valley of bumps and dips and curves that were the very source of your agitation.
Nanami ignored your argument, instead lowering his chin to press a slow, open mouthed kiss to your stomach before he eased back to reply.
“What is it my love?” He questioned innocently, breath curling warm over your bare stomach, sticky where he’d left glistening lip prints.
“Stop,” you managed, though it was evident that your heart wasn’t in it, much to preoccupied in watching the way his lashes fluttered as he pressed another kiss to your skin, this time just below the curve of your breast where your heart was fluttering like a caged canary. “it’s embarrassing…”
“Embarrassing?” Nanami echoed, lifting his head to meet your gaze, “You really want me to stop?”
The hand petting between your spread thighs slowed, and he blinked up at you with those tired, beautiful eyes that made your chest ache. The simple sight of that endless honey brown was enough to melt you, gazing into your eyes like you’d hung the very stars.
You found yourself shaking your head, and the corners of his lips lifted into a smile, worried lines worn smooth between his knitted brows.
“Then you’ll have to allow me a few kisses, deal?”
The movement of his hand resumed, dipping down just far enough to gather some of your wetness before he was pressing the slick pads of his fingers to your clit again, rubbing in sweet tight little heart shapes now.
“Oh… okay, okay…”
You sighed and let your head fall backward, nestled between pillows as your eyes fluttered closed and you allowed yourself to wade deeper into the soothing bliss he was offering.
Nanami worked dutifully below your line of sight. Fingers rolling in sinful strokes, each press of his lips bolder than the last until finally they sealed flat around a perked nipple and he began suckling lightly.
You arched into the sensation, spine curved and chest lifted to meet the wet heat of his mouth as he moved.
“Oh, Ken…”
He groaned softly, the sound thick with adoration. His teeth grazed gently over the sensitive bud before he moved to the next and administered the same treatment. Laving a fresh burst of kisses over the swell of your breast before sucking the pebbled nub into his mouth, tongue swirling beneath the vacuumed pressure.
You found yourself teetering on the edge much quicker than you’d have liked to admit, testament to just how on edge you were, and how well your husband read your body. With the steady rub of his fingers and the hot press of his lips peppering your skin, the sticky heat blooming in your belly peaked swiftly - tightening to a coiled knot which snapped with the next well placed nip of his teeth.
Nanami worked you through it, fingers slowing but not stopping until you whined, crossing into the realm of overstimulation, and he lifted away to instead trace gentle shapes into your twitching thigh.
In the sizzling afterglow you lay panting into the messed sheets, head tilted to take in the sight of your husband as he adjusted his frames and smoothed your shirt back over your chest. Not missing the way his eyes caught on the sight of his sucking marks blooming over your skin.
“You’re too good at that, Ken,” you breathed, voice utterly softened by pleasure.
“Not too good,” Nanami replied smoothly, leaning in to speak the next words against your lips, “exactly what you deserve.”
With that he lifted his chin to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, though it landed wayward when you tilted your head to instead capture his lips in a cheeky kiss.
He indulged you, let you hum into his mouth, run your tongue over his lips until he yielded. You shivered when his lips parted, and you finally felt the silky heat of his tongue against your own.
He split from you as the kiss deepened, just shy of too heavy to pull back from. Though he looked a little pained by the notion, cheekbones and the tips of his ears dusted a sweet rosy pink.
“What about the blue dress?” You offered, lifting your hand to tuck a stray strand of gold behind his blushed ear, “the silk one, the one I wore to your office party last spring.”
Nanami exhaled, and all the weight of the world seemed to melt away with the motion. His head tilted into your touch, where your knuckles had abandoned his hair in favour of drawing slow soothing lines over his cheekbones.
“You know, that’s my favourite.”
You smiled at that, chest and cheeks warm.
“Sure it is, Ken.”
────────────────────────
a/n. written in honour of me genuinely sobbing trying to get dressed this morning so not proofread yippeeeee, anyway live laugh love nanami <3
the second the words ‘small dick’ leave your lips and send the room into fits of laughter, you’re already sealing your fate. it’s supposed to be funny — a stupid little jab you toss out while tipsy and giddy, just to make your friends laugh.
but the shift in his expression is instant. that easy grin he always wears turns sharp, his bright eyes suddenly unreadable. he doesn’t say anything. not even a word. he just sits there, one long leg crossed over the other, sipping his drink with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes while the others howl around you. apparently, your friend gojo satoru doesn’t like his name and the word ‘small’ in a sentence.
you try to ignore the weight of his gaze for the rest of the night — the way it clings to your skin whenever you look away, the way his jaw ticks when someone else repeats your joke. but he stays quiet. polite. calm. almost too calm. and that’s almost terrifying.
the party starts to thin out an hour later. everyone’s drunk and scattered, and you sneak off to the empty hallway to freshen up, trying to shake off the awkward tension. you don’t even hear the footsteps behind you until you turn around — and there he is, leaning lazily against the doorframe, watching you like a predator that’s finally cornered its prey.
“done laughing?” he asks, voice smooth, too casual.
“jesus! you scared me,” you breathe out, rolling your eyes to hide how hard your heart is pounding. “if this is about the joke, relax. everyone’s already forgotten about it, gojo.”
“everyone?” he echoes, pushing himself off the frame and sauntering closer, each step deliberate, heavy. “funny. i haven’t.”
you open your mouth, some weak attempt at a defense already forming, but he cuts you off with a quiet laugh — low, dark, and dripping with something that makes your stomach flip.
“you think i’m sensitive? that i can’t take a joke?” he murmurs, now close enough for you to feel the heat of his body. “nah, i’m not mad. i’m just wondering how confident you’ll sound with my dick in your mouth.”
your breath hitches. your back presses against the wall before you even realize you’ve moved, and his hand lands beside your head, caging you in. the lazy grin that spreads across his face is infuriatingly confident.
“small, huh?” he tilts his head, eyes dropping briefly to your lips before locking with yours again. “then open that pretty mouth and let me ruin that little opinion.”
“what the hell, gojo—”
“ah, ah,” he hums, the edge in his voice sharp enough to slice through your words. “you had no problem running it in front of everyone. let’s see if you can still do that when i’m shoving every inch of what you mocked down your throat.”
he tugs your head back with a firm grip, a thin strand of spit still connecting your swollen lips to his thick, aching cock — and fuck, the sight of you like that only makes him throb harder.
you suck in a shaky breath, voice barely steady as you whisper, “gojo—”
“no, no,” he interrupts, a low, dangerous edge curling around every word. “don’t call me that. it’s satoru when you’re like this.”
he motions for you to keep going, that cocky look on his face practically saying, did i say you were done?
you bite your lip, glancing up at him through your lashes before dragging your tongue slowly from the base of his cock all the way up. then you start bobbing your head, easing him deeper into your mouth.
but gojo is not patient tonight.
a low groan rumbles from his chest as he begins thrusting upward, slow at first — letting you adjust, forcing you to feel every thick inch stretching your mouth open.
it doesn’t stay slow for long. his pace picks up, the slick, obscene sounds filling the room with every thrust. “what’s wrong? can’t talk now?” he taunts, his voice rough and dripping with mockery. “i thought it was small? if it really was, you’d still be able to get out at least three syllables, yeah?”
you can’t answer — your mouth is too full, stuffed past what you think you can handle. your jaw aches as you try to relax it, stubbornly determined to prove you can take him, that you won’t back down.
he loosens his grip on your hair for just a second — and you take that tiny window as a chance to sink lower, taking more of him into your mouth.
“fuuuuck…” he groans, head tipping back slightly as he watches you, his breath hitching at the sight of you struggling to take him deeper, eyes watering just a little but refusing to pull away.
when you finally do, a wet pop echoes in the air. a thin strand of saliva still clings to your lips as you wrap your hand around him, stroking his cock slowly. your lips are flushed and swollen, glossy from the mix of spit and precum.
“satoru…” you breathe out, voice trembling but needy.
“fuck, baby—what the fuck…” he rasps, the sound of his voice wrecked and breathless. he leans down before you can even respond, crashing his mouth against yours. the kiss is deep and filthy, all tongue and teeth, and when he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, he tugs just hard enough to make you gasp before pulling away.
he laughs softly, the sound low and dangerous, as his thumb wipes the mess from the corner of your mouth. “don’t ever say shit like that again, ‘kay? we both know it’s not true…” his lips ghost over yours again, “but i don’t like being humiliated.”
all you can do is nod, nod, and nod again, your hand still working him slowly — twisting a little at the tip, dragging a moan out of him that sends heat pooling low in your stomach.
his voice dips lower, rougher. “good girl.” a pause, and then, “now finish what you started… make me cum,” he growls, his hand curling around the back of your neck, guiding you back down. “and when you do, i’ll make sure every inch of this—” he thrusts slightly into your fist “—fits inside your cunt next.”
♯ can’t stop thinking about bestfriend!megumi recording you riding a dildo because the two of you want to earn some extra cash, and he insisted this would be the quickest way to save up for that brand new pc you'd both been eyeing. you trust him, and besides, who are you to refuse your horny best friend? (twt link at the end!)
the lighting in megumi’s bedroom was dim, save for the harsh glow of his phone screen and a couple of desk lamps that cast long, flickering shadows across the floor. you were stripped bare, save for a pair of black nylon thigh highs that hugged your legs, digging slightly into your skin. you felt exposed, the cool air of the room hitting your damp skin as you straddled the thick, silicone dildo propped up on the carpet.
you were on your knees, leaning forward with your palms pressed flat against the floor for support. your back arched, creating a tempting curve that highlighted the contrast of the thigh highs against your skin and your cunt began to stretch wide as you slowly lowered your weight onto it.
megumi, on the other hand, sat just a few feet away, leaning back on his elbows, holding his phone steady to capture every angle of your vulnerability. he looked completely unfazed, though his dark eyes were tracking every twitch of your muscles. his dark, spikey hair fell over his eyes, partially obscuring his gaze and leaving half of his face veiled in shadow. it gave him an air of detached mystery, though the way he held his phone, steady and focused, showed he was paying very close attention to every detail.
"you’re hesitating," megumi remarked, his voice cool and flat. he shifted his position, the phone camera zooming in on the point where the dildo disappeared into your soaking wet folds. "you know, if we're doing this for the money, you can't look like you're scared of it. you have to look like you’re enjoying it.”
"i’m not— i'm just.." you whimpered, your voice trailing off as you began to lift and drop your hips. the friction was intense, the girth of the toy hitting that soft spot with every downward thrust.
"just what? flustered?" he let out a small, petty huff of a laugh. "it’s just a piece of plastic, but you're reacting like it's the real thing. if you can't even handle this, how the fuck are you going to take my dick?"
your face flushed a deep crimson, the heat radiating from your cheeks down to your chest. you let out a flustered whine, shifting your hips to settle deeper onto the toy. "shut up, gumi! don't say stuff like that," you whimpered, though you didn't stop moving.
"why not? it's just a question," he muttered, adjusting the camera to get a closer shot of where the dildo disappeared into your soaking wet folds. "put some effort into it. move your hips more."
"besides, im tryna give you motivation. now, lean forward more. arch your back. i wanna to see more of your ass while you ride it."
you groaned, feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal. you began to bounce, the rhythmic slapslapslap of your thighs hitting the base of the toy filling the quiet room. you focused on the sensation, the way the dildo filled you completely, stretching you wide.
suddenly, you felt a large, warm hand wrap around your hip, pulling you firmly against him. you jumped, a small shriek escaping your lips as megumi reached out. he didn't stop recording with one hand, but with the other, he began to grope your ass, his fingers kneading your soft cheeks with a possessive grip.
"megumi!" you gasped, your rhythm faltering.
"stay focused," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. smack! he delivered a sharp, stinging slap to your right ass cheek, the sound echoing in the room.
the sting sent a jolt of electricity straight to your clit. you let out a loud, uncontrolled moan, your hips picking up speed. you started riding the dildo frantically, your tits bouncing with every downward thrust.
"thaaat’s it," megumi whispered, his eyes narrowing a little as he watched your pussy grip the toy. he slapped your other cheek, harder this time, leaving a faint red mark. "look at you. so desperate for a little bit of attention. you look like a total slut for the camera."
"i— i'm not— mmmh! shit!" you were losing it, the combination of the stretching fullness and megumi’s touch pushing you over the edge.
as the orgasm hit, your internal muscles clamped down hard on the silicone. your body shuddered violently, and you let out a loud, broken cry, your voice echoing through the room.
"megumi— oh god, megumi!"
you collapsed onto your elbows, panting heavily, your pussy glistening and open, leaking clear fluids onto the floor. you stayed there for a moment, panting, your chest heaving as the aftershocks of the climax rolled through you. slowly, with a wet, suctioning sound, you slid off the dildo, your pussy glistening and open.
megumi didn't put the phone away, though. instead, he crawled forward, bringing the camera inches away from your dripping cunt, capturing the way your folds twitched and leaked.
"fuuuuck.. that's so hot," he breathed, his voice raspy. he looked up from the screen, the shadows of his hair still dancing across his eyes, but the intensity of his gaze was unmistakable. he didn't move to help you up, instead, he shifted his weight, the heavy bulge in his sweatpants brushing against your hip, reminding you exactly how hard he was.
"you look like a complete mess," he murmured, though his voice lacked any real judgment. it sounded more like a compliment. "absolutely drenched."
“yeah, well, i wonder why.. this better earn us quite the money, fushiguro.”
megumi let out a low, humming sound in his throat. "well, i don't think i can just sell this video. i might have to keep a copy for myself. now.. i think it's time i get what i want."
“you’re so greedy,” you giggled.
how he had you later that night.
i need a bf that cosplays so bad. ANYWAYS!! more bestfriend!megumi because WE #wantdat
Synopsis: Jongho has had a crush on you for the longest time. the only problem? you don’t feel the same way. he thinks he can live with the burden of that. until one night, he decides that not having you is something he will never be able to accept.
tw: non-con/extremely dubious consent, somnophilia, degradation, dacryphilia, Jongho is mean, cream pie, jealousy, rough sex, possessive behavior. If you don’t like, don’t bother reading or commenting. thank ya!!!
Jongho thinks he’s had a crush on you from the very first time he laid eyes on you. You both were very young back then. Of course, he had no idea why his heart would beat so fast and his palms became so sweaty whenever he was around you, but a few more years down the line, he slowly started to put the pieces together.
Jongho had the biggest, most sickly and disgusting, raging crush on you.
But you didn’t feel the same way.
It was pretty clear that you had no interest in him. You were too busy gushing to Jongho’s older sister about boys from your university, none of them being anything remotely similar to Jongho. You liked boys who were older, much older, and stronger and bigger than you too.
You liked them smart and outgoing. Jongho didn’t see himself as any of those things.
When he first realized he was crushing hard on you back in his freshman year of high school, Jongho was still small and meek, a lanky boy with big eyes and a heart that beat for the prettiest girl in school. He still vividly remembers the first time he popped a boner because of you. He was truly a lost cause from the beginning.
But he was never brave enough to act upon any of his feelings. He thought that just getting to be your friend for now was good enough. everyone wanted to be friends with you anyway. Jongho guesses that having his sister be your best friend came to his advantage in a way.
But as the years passed, and things started to change, the one thing that remained unmoving was how you made Jongho feel. What used to be an innocent little crush that would make him swoon became something that started to intoxicate him.
Jongho’s mind had long since strayed from innocent thoughts of getting to hold your hand and ask you out on cute dates where he’d kiss you on the cheek and tell you how beautiful you are.
Jongho was not a little boy anymore. His high school days are over. He’s grown a good few inches since then. His body is strong, with broad shoulders and thick thighs that would make any girl swoon.
His cheeks have lost their softness, jaw chiseled and more defined now instead. His speech is no longer quiet and slurred. His voice is deep and his words are much more calculated.
His thoughts changed drastically too. He looks at you with hunger behind his eyes.
The hands he had once dreamed of intertwining his fingers with were now the ones he imagined trapping in his grasp, pinned above your head. The waist he had once longed to wrap his arms around and hold close was now one he imagined digging his fingertips into, leaving deep purple bruises in their wake.
The lips he thought of gently kissing he now pictures red and puffy from his teeth biting into them.
Everything about Jongho changed. He now desires you in a much more carnal way than ever before. but despite all that, you still won’t look at him.
It’s started to make Jongho beyond frustrated. having to see you come over and talk to his sister about every boy you’ve been seeing or hooking up with, when he’s the one that’s been pining after you for so long. it’s simply unfair and it makes Jongho want to pull his hair out.
He hates having to see you dressed in skimpy little outfits, prancing around their house and getting ready, only to go out to clubs with his sister where other men would get to have their eyes and disgusting hands all over your body.
Everyone else but Jongho got to have a taste of you and he was slowly starting to despise you for that. Having to see you so often became too overbearing when he realized you would never return his feelings. You would never look at Jongho the way he looks at you; with lust.
All that you see him as is your best friend’s little brother. That’s all he’ll ever be in your eyes.
Jongho fucking hates that thought with a fiery passion.
It’s not uncommon for you to sleep over at their house most days. Jongho knows you prefer being here rather than with your own parents, since they’ve never really been good to you. Every time his sister and you go out clubbing, you’re guaranteed to come back to their place and sleep over.
Lately, it’s become a much more frequent occurrence for you to come back by yourself, after Jongho’s sister ends up ditching you at whatever party you were at, for any guy she decided to leave with that night. Which left you to come back to the house alone.
Where the only one waiting was Jongho.
Most nights he’d sleep through the sound of the front door slamming and shuffling inside the house. But something made him startle awake this time around. Jongho is by no means a light sleeper, but today the sound of kitchen cabinets opening and closing rouse him from slumber, and the constant hiccups and loud steps padding through the living room wouldn’t let him go back to sleep.
It’s like that for a good ten minutes. The commotion keeps him awake, staring at the ceiling of his room with a scowl etched between his brows, until it stops. The house falls silent again, almost as if it’s just him and no one else. But Jongho knows he’s not the only one in the house anymore, and since he didn’t hear his sister’s bedroom door opening, he knows she must not be the other person inside the house either.
After another five minutes or so of silently staring into the darkness, he finally decides to kick the blankets off his body and get out of bed. The floor creaks as he walks and the tiles in the hallway are cold beneath his feet.
He wishes he had put some socks on.
Coming to a stop behind the living room couch he glances over at the tv that’s playing some sort of horror movie on mute that he knows he didn’t leave it on before going to bed. With a sigh, he walks closer and peers over the back of the couch.
Of course, lying pretty, with hair splayed over the cushions and lips pouted outwards, is none other than you. Dressed in nothing but a tiny top and a skirt that rides halfway up your thighs, your shoes not even off your feet.
“Sweet,” Jongho comments dryly, pursing his lips before walking around the couch to crouch before you. Shamelessly, he lets his eyes rake over your body, lingering on your exposed thighs, making his brows pinch together in sudden unreasonable frustration.
Of course you had to come in here, looking like a beautiful disaster, smelling of sweet perfume and cigarette smoke, with glitter clinging to your lids and cheeks, most likely drunk off your ass.
“You’re a mess,” Jongho scoffs. He doesn’t know why, but he reaches for your ankles, untying the laces that he can tell you must have struggled with, only to give up on. He slips the shoes off and starts to grow more frustrated by the second.
“Had fun, Y/N?” he smiles bitterly with no genuine joy behind it. He doesn’t even look at you as he speaks. “I’m guessing not since you came back all by yourself.”
You stir in your sleep, mumbling something incoherently before you quiet back down. Your hands are clutched into tiny fists by your head and your knees are bent up, curling into yourself. You look annoyingly adorable and Jongho can’t understand why he’s so angered by the image.
“Probably let yourself be groped up at the party, didn’t you?” He spits with malice. “Let everyone just use you right then and there, didn’t even wait for someone to take you home.” You don’t make a single sound, only breathing evenly as you keep on sleeping peacefully.
“Pathetic.”
Jongho knows he has no right to do this. To say these words to you. To see you as a slut even though you’ve given him no reason to perceive you as such. But it’s the fact that you want everyone out there.
Everyone else but him.
He doesn’t even think twice before his eyes zero in on where your skirt has lifted enough to offer him a perfect view of your underwear. The light coming from the tv is also doing a good enough job of letting him get a better look.
He shouldn’t. He’s disgusting. He’s cruel. He should feel ashamed.
He flips your skirt up.
The sight of pink lace makes his hands squeeze into fists and his mouth water involuntarily. Pretty, soft, delicate skin. Unmarked. Unclaimed. Right before his eyes.
Jongho is going to either gouge his eyes out or get his hands all over your unconscious body in front of him.
He opts for the latter.
It’s with a cautious move that he lets his palm run down the swell of your ass. Your skin dips ever so slightly underneath the pressure of his touch. The fat springs back into place when his fingertips dig in and out. Jongho bites his bottom lip until he draws blood.
Of course every part of you just has to be pretty and irresistible.
Jongho is positively seething at this point.
“No one deserves you YN,” he mutters lowly, letting his hand trail down to the back of your thigh, digging his fingertips into the plumpness of it firmly enough to make you whine in your sleep and flip over onto your stomach, offering him easy access.
“But i do.”
Jongho hooks his index underneath soft lace. His eyes drift briefly over to your face, before he focuses right back. The anger is still present. It’s finally time, he decides. Time to take what is rightfully his.
He’s waited long enough.
“I deserve this.”
Of course you’re still infinitely pretty everywhere. Even where Jongho’s never seen you before. He stares intently at your pussy that’s completely bare and smooth and inviting enough for him to part and expose your hole with two fingers.
You’re all soft and pink, glistening beautifully before his eyes. He wants to slap his palm right on top of your cunt just so he can punish you for being so perfect even where you’re not supposed to be.
He circles a tentative finger around the tight opening instead.
It’s clear as day why anyone would want to get a taste of you. You’re far better than any of Jongho’s wet dreams. Every time he’s imagined himself with his head buried between your thighs, it didn’t even come close to how good you looked in real life.
“Look at that,” he whispers, scooting closer and using his other hand to keep your panties pushed to the side. “How many cocks got to sink into this sloppy cunt, hm?” he tugs so hard that he thinks he can hear the lace slowly starting to rip in his hold.
“Who did you whore around for before finally getting to me, Y/N?”
Of course you didn’t “get” to him willingly. If you hadn’t passed out drunk on the couch and if Jongho wasn’t such a disgusting pervert, this would’ve probably never happened.
But alas, it did.
And there’s no going back now.
The feeling of moisture against his fingertips takes Jongho aback and it makes his jaw clench. Of course you’re wet from the faintest of touches. Pretty and responsive. Could things get any better?
Jongho’s hand is shoved inside his sweatpants before he even gets to blink twice. He’s uselessly fisting at his cock that is now undeniably hard, knowing that what he needs in order to alleviate the ache is to sink it right into the cunt he’s been ogling at.
Rising up to his feet, he tugs his pants low enough for his dick to spring free and bob into the open air, hot and hard to the touch. His eyes are locked onto your face, watching as you still sleep soundlessly, without a single clue about what’s about to occur next.
His knee props up on the couch cushion right next to your head. With one hand he takes a hold of himself and with the other he smooths your hair off your face, tilting your chin back.
“Pretty girl,” he sighs, circling the tip of his dick around your puckered lips. “All mine. just like you were meant to be.” His head prods at your mouth until it finally opens, lips suckling as if it was a pacifier. Jongho grits his teeth and tries his hardest not to slip his entire length down your throat. He lets you suck gently on the tip and drink up all the precum that’s being offered to you.
“Fucking cock slut. Look at you.” Jongho’s thumb pushes at the corner of your mouth, encouraging you to open it further. “So eager to have something in your mouth even when you sleep.” You whimper weakly, eyelids starting to twitch. Jongho pays it no mind, guiding his dick little by little inside your mouth, engulfing himself in warmth and wetness, making his balls constrict.
The sight of you sleeping so blissfully unaware with your pussy out in the open and your mouth stuffed with cock makes him almost shoot his load right then and there. Before he realizes it, Jongho has slid far enough inside your mouth to make you gurgle. Your eyes flutter open in confusion.
Strings of spit still cling from your lips and onto Jongho’s shaft, the sight utterly obscene. You cough, hand reaching forward to weakly paw at Jongho’s thigh, fingers grasping at the material of his sweatpants.
“What the fuck-“
It takes you a little while to be able to focus enough on the sight in front of you. You blink up weakly. “Jongho?” Your eyes need a few long seconds to adjust to the darkness, but when they do, they look as if they might pop out of their sockets when you take notice of Jongho sitting before you with his dick out in the open, hard and wet with your spit. “W-what’s going on?”
“Go back to sleep, Y/n,” Jongho’s tone was gruff and unwavering. A slight threat.
Your face falls. Your eyes take in the scene in front you much more clearly, face becoming overtaken by fear.
“What are you d-doing?” you ask, trying to scramble back. Jongho is quicker, though. His fingers wrap around your chin in a bruising grip before you can get too far. You stare up at him in pure horror.
“For once, just let me have this,” Jongho grits, watching as your mouth parts, but seemingly not knowing how you should reply.
“Don’t speak.”
“Jongho,” you whisper, squirming uncomfortably and still trying to scoot back when you see him grab a hold of his dripping cock, “Y-you can’t do this.”
“Why not?” Jongho scoffs, leaning in until he’s speaking right in your face. “This is all your fault, you know?” he spits, watching your eyes grow bigger. “You made me like this. Had me running after you like some sick puppy, only to kick me away like a stray every single time. You left me no choice.”
Your bottom lip starts to tremble, a yelp escaping from the back of your throat when Jongho grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you closer until your foreheads press together. “Why don’t you ever look at me?” Jongho asks, hurt evident in his voice. “Why don’t you like me?”
“I-I do like you!” You cry out, trying to pry his hand away with your weaker ones, but it’s to no use.
“Not the way I want you to.” He shakes his head, as though what he’s about to do has been decided long before this moment. The certainty in his expression makes your heart pound with fear. He releases your hair, only to seize the nape of your neck instead, his grip firm enough to keep you exactly where he wants you.
“Not the way I like you.”
“This is wrong Jongho, please!” You desperately plead, trying to kick your feet, but to no use. It doesn’t deter Jongho in the slightest.
“It is,” Jongho nods his head. He knows it’s wrong. He knows he should stop. But you owe him this. “I’m sorry.”
Before you have the chance to scream, the breath is knocked out of your lungs as Jongho manhandles you, flipping you onto your front. Your skirt is still flipped up, underwear hanging crookedly over your hips. It’s relatively easy for Jongho to reach between your thighs and cup you right on top of where you’re warmest.
“No, stop!” You struggle uselessly, cries getting more frightened by the second as Jongho continues on unbothered. “Jongho, get off, seriously!”
Jongho can tell you’re still drunk. Your movements are sluggish, your speech slightly slurred. You kick your legs weakly and try to scoot away, but you’re far too slow for someone who supposedly doesn’t want this. He uses that as an advantage.
A sharp slap lands against your cunt, making you squeak as your body stills instantly. “Let me have this,” Jongho grits out, anger roughening every word. As though this is somehow your fault. As though you’ve done something to wrong him.“Stop refusing me.”
“Please, please, please…let me go,” You hiccup weakly, trying to shift your hips away, but it’s no use. Jongho is already dragging your underwear down your thighs with one hand, the other holding your hands tightly behind your back.
“Why does everyone get to have you but me?” Jongho asks bitterly, like he can’t make sense of why you insist on denying him. “Look at this,” he scoffs incredulously, running a tentative finger through your folds. “How many people got to have a taste of this cunt before me?”
You gasp wetly, falling stiff as a board, as if all your fight or flight instincts have suddenly left. You can do nothing but breathe heavily as Jongho’s fingers start to run up and down through your parted folds. The first press to your clit has you yelping and trembling, as if a button had been pushed inside of you. Your body reacts against your own will, hole slicking in an instant. When Jongho’s fingertips come back sticky he chuckles darkly.
“Of course you’re wet,” He presses down even more punishingly on your clit, making your legs flail, mouth falling open. “You don’t even want me, yet your little cunny is gushing at the slightest touch.”
A shudder of humiliation goes through you. You think you should definitely be fighting a lot harder than are. Your high pitched mewls are not doing much to help you in your current predicament.
“W-wait, stop,” You gasps at the first hint of a finger near your opening. “Please!” Your pleas fall upon deaf ears as Jongho easily sinks two fingers down to the knuckle. He grunts. You feel snug and warm—like you’re trying to suck him right in.
Jonghos wondered for so long how you would feel inside. He can’t believe the day in which his questions are being answered has finally come. “Fucking tight,” he grunts, fingers scissoring inside your cunt mercilessly, adding another alongside the first two.
It’s a tight fit, but your gushing hole accepts it greedily. “Love your slutty body.” Your hands try weakly to slide out of Jongho’s grip. So weakly it can’t even be considered an actual attempt. Jongho wants to laugh at the futile attempt but he focuses on thrusting his fingers harder instead.
"Could probably break you right in half.” It’s not a lie. You looks so small and fragile underneath him right now. The words, although they don't sound like a genuine threat, are far from false. "Fuck you so hard that you'd ache for days on end."
You sob pitifully, face splotchy with tears and mouth overfilling with spit that dribbles down the corners of your mouth. This already feels like too much and Jongho hasn’t even gotten his dick inside of you yet. “You’d like it too,” Jongho continues to speak. He curls his fingers causing you to release a choked sound. “I know you would.” You try to shake your head no, but your neck aches too much in your position.
“Filthy little slut.”
A whine escapes you when the fingers inside of you suddenly pull out without warning, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing, still wet and throbbing in the chilly air of the room. You take that as a chance and desperately struggle to push yourself up when your arms get released. Jongho is on you in an instant, having climbed up on the couch behind you, hands forcefully holding your hips down. You sob softly as you grip onto the couch arm uselessly, blunt fingernails digging into the velvety material.
The breath gets knocked out of your lungs when you feel something prodding at your entrance. “I’m going to fuck you,” Jongho says without a hint of doubt. No hint of hesitation. Jongho wholeheartedly means what he says and you know that. Which is exactly why you’re absolutely terrified, heart now stuck in your throat.
“N-no, Jongho, please! I’ll do anything! Y-you can take me out—we’ll go on a date, and we can do whatever you want. Please!”You desperately try to reason with him.
On any other day, Jongho might have considered your proposal. He wishes it didn’t have to come to this for you to finally entertain the idea of going on a date with him. Jongho lets out a heavy sigh. “You’d do anything?”
You nod frantically. “Anything!”
Jongho pretends to think it over. He ponders with a hand holding his dick and the other pressing down on the small of your back, keeping you in place.
“Then sit still,” He finally grunts followed by a sharp thrust of his hips. A painful wheeze rips straight out of your lungs when he shoves himself inside your outstretched cunt, bottoming out in one go. Fat tears instantly roll down your already sticky cheeks, your frail body getting jostled forward from the powerful thrust.
“Shit,” Jongho grunts at the same time as you whisper another “please” that goes unanswered. “Always knew you’d have the tightest pussy.”
Your stomach stirs as Jongho begins to pull out, the drag feeling searing against your walls, only to push right back in twice as powerful. You think you see white for a solid moment.
“Oh God,” you moan, gripping tightly onto the couch as you get mercilessly plowed into. The worst part of it all is when it starts to feel good. You can’t deny how deliciously heavy Jongho feels inside of you. How well he’s pounding you right into the couch, making you feel small and helpless underneath him, completely overpowered.
You gush around his cock so much you’re sure you made a puddle underneath yourself. “Mine,” Jongho growls, lowering down enough so he can nip on the back of your neck. “All of you belongs to me, Y/n. This pretty little body of yours,” You cry out when your front gets lifted enough for Jongho to sneak his hands underneath your chest and cup your breasts over your top, “These fat tits,” you positively sob when your bra is pushed down and your perky nipples get exposed to the air of the room, twisted by skillful fingers, “This tight little cunt.” the statement is accompanied by a powerful thrust that you feel all the way in your tummy. “Mine, Mine, Mine. You’re all mine.”
You can do nothing but keep on moaning as you get fucked within an inch of your life, filthy words being continuously grunted in your ear as you unwillingly hurl towards an orgasm, screaming as you cum and let go all around Jongho’s cock.
“God, you really are just the perfect whore,” Jongho’s hips piston into you, making your ass jiggle with every powerful thrust, painfully overstimulating your sensitive hole as he pounds you with purpose. Before you can try to recover, and get a grasp on reality, Jongho is cumming hotly inside of you, making you keen high in your throat as you feel how deep he shoots his load.
You’re unable to do anything else but slump down with a defeated whimper.
“Good, so good. Did so well,” Jongho practically purrs, pressing kisses over your shoulder blades, still holding you down. “I knew you’d like it.”
You want to scream. To tell him that you didn’t like it. That it was wrong. But that would clearly be a lie. The only thing you can do is whine.
“Shh, don’t worry,” Jongho leans forward so he can reach your face, kissing your cheek tenderly. “I’m not done with you yet.”
You lost the power to protest long ago.
Jongho sits behind the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cornflakes when his sister walks into the house at the crack of dawn. She seems surprised to find him awake so early in the morning. Quickly scanning the room, she realizes it’s just the two of them.
“Where’s Y/n?” she asks, furrowing her brows as she tosses her purse onto the couch.
Jongho shrugs. “Dunno.”
She yawns loudly as she clumsily slips off her shoes. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me up.”
Jongho rolls his eyes, but a slight smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. He wouldn’t even dream of it. When the door to his sister’s bedroom shuts loudly, he deems it safe to get up and places his bowl in the sink before retreating to his own room.
The sun has just started to rise, and his room is engulfed in a weak yellow glow.
Jongho thinks there is nothing more beautiful in the world than the sight of you lying in his bed in the warm glow of the sunrise—naked and bruised, completely debauched and cum stained.
“Hi, pretty baby.” He smiles widely as he locks the door behind him. You whine from behind the makeshift gag Jongho tied around your head and shoved inside your mouth. “Guess what?”
You whine weakly as Jongho stalks toward you, carefully climbing onto the bed and hovering above you. When he frees your mouth and lets you catch your breath, he speaks the words you don’t know if you’ve been dreading or somehow excitedly anticipating.
“I get to have you for the whole day.”
You don’t even have time to respond before he’s kissing you again. And again. And then again, until the world around you disappears, until you melt into the mattress and into Jongho’s arms.
Where you belong.
A/N: I’m not happy with this but I couldn’t leave yall hanging. I’ll do better on the next fic I post. Thank you for reading though 🫶🏽
Loving Yūji comes with a package deal you don't necessarily know how to deal with. Granted, you've loved him first before this whole ordeal even happened — it still is a matter of when and never an if, per se, when it comes to his special situation.
"So tight, baby," Yūji says between sucking his breath. He's not quite sure whether to ram and go at a harsher pace or let you adjust to his girth first. His control is being tested too much right now. "Even after all that."
You moan his name in praise before you lock your legs around his waist and pull yourself closer to him, effectively shutting him up from keeping things slow. You've always wanted things rougher, something that Yūji loves about you (but even then, he still wishes to take his time).
"Oh s-shit, baby!" Yūji would've let his eyes roll back if he wasn't focused on keeping his entire weight off of you. "F-Fuck!"
"H-Harder, Yūji," you beg him, "please."
Yūji doesn't need to be told twice. He grabs hold of your thighs roughly and pounds into you like an animal in heat. You arch your back further for more, and he gives in.
"So good, baby," Yūji drools, "so, so good. Oh my — fuck!"
Just as you are coming down with your first orgasm, another voice pierces through the solidity of the air and breaks it easily as if he had done this countless times before.
"Enchain."
Suddenly you are flipped on your hands and knees. 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 your ears.
"Y-Yū —"
"Brat's not here," Sukuna's voice deeply rumbles against your skin.
This is the first time he's ever made his presence known to you. You've heard stories of how Sukuna would pop on Yūji's cheek or his hands whenever he's got something to say (especially towards your sensei and Megumi), but not once has he ever manifested and broken through Yūji's control — and right in the middle of fucking, too.
"Heh," he yanks you further until you can see his eyes gazing heatedly at yours, "my own vessel lost control. Let's see if you do live up to that expectation."
Then he slams your head against the pillow and fucks you senseless. It's wrong . . . to even feel how fucking good it is to be brutally pounded.
Yet, here you are in the mercy of a sadistic curse, cackling like a bastard that he is.
Sukuna had you spread out for him, as he continues to ram his cock up inside of you. One of his hands kneads your ass mockingly before he slaps each cheek hard.
Your teeth bite into the soft fabric of the pillow, muffling your screams lest you want Megumi to hear you from the other side of the room. At this point, Sukuna slapping you might've really been a dead giveaway.
"Y-Yūji —"
"My name, brat —"
"—Y-Yūji, Y-Yū—"
"— I said my name." He slaps your sloppily wet clit.
You arch your back unknowingly to the sensation, and before you could have thought twice about it, your body yields and your mouth muddles the name, "S-Sukuna!"
"Good." He mutters darkly, "Good girl."
He fondles your breasts next. Then his tongue laps to the outline of your spine and back up to your neck, where he marks you. His canines have sunk into your skin so deeply, he can taste your blood, and that further fuels him into a mess of moans and praise as if he's drunk on an aphrodisiac.
"Again." He orders you. "My name. Only."
"Sukuna," you say. "Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna! F-Fuck, I —"
"That's it."
The first of your orgasms comes to you like a torrent. It's harsh and unforgiving, much like how Sukuna doesn't even stop fucking you even as you try your best to squirm away.
When you feel that he's finally slowed down, when his hands have released the hold against your body, and you allow yourself to breathe a little better, there's a sudden shift between you and the King of Curses. You realize that it's because you've been flipped back and your legs are locked around his waist again.
"S-Sukuna?"
"No," Yūji breathlessly says. He leans his face closer until his lips brush yours. "I-It's me, baby. It's me. I'm sorry. I-I lost control. Are you hurt?"
You shake your head with a smile. "N-No, I'm fine. I'm more than fine."
"Yeah?" Yūji perks up. You notice that his cock has hardened once more and he's repositioning himself to your abused cunt.
"Yeah, baby." You laugh dumbly. "That was . . . quite exhilarating."
Yūji bumps his nose against yours. The heat in his eyes is visible, but it is nowhere near as intense as the other pair you were forced to look at prior.
"That was hot," Yūji admits. "Watching you . . . like that."
"It was," you breathe out.
When you peer below Yūji's eyes, you swear you've seen the glints of red and black squinting back at you as if to tell you that he's heard about your little honesty.
Well, it really can't be helped sometimes. After all, loving Yūji does come with a deal.
