notes oh to be pretty boy megumi’s bimbo gf </3 @cursedarchiveblog @http-404-error-unknown
WARNINGS bimbo! reader (... kind of. an attempt was made.), smut, fingering, unprotected sex, vag sex, cream pie. reader wears a skirt (no length specified) and mascara. reader is called girl, but has no pronouns.
MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.
+
"You'll get wrinkles like that, you know?" you tease, smoothing the crease between Megumi's brows only for it to return as soon as you move away. "Please don't ruin your pretty face."
"I wouldn't if you— I'm not pretty," he grumbles, frown deepening, brows furrowing further, as his eyes wander away from the pout on your face. There's a blush rising high on the curve of his cheeks, dusted pink and not so out of character when you know exactly what effect compliments have on him.
"Yeah, you are." Your lips turn up into a coy grin just as two of your fingers rise to pinch his cheeks. "The prettiest. My pretty boy Megumi."
He rolls his eyes. He huffs a little and straightens his posture, too. He can't do much about the way his flush darkens, though, highlighting the very tip of his ears a matching red.
Clearing his throat, he holds your wrist with just enough force that your own hand loosens. "Thank you, now finish the question."
"Can't we take a break instead?" you immediately whine, dropping your hand to his thigh and shifting closer to rest your head on his shoulder. "I'm tired."
"You've only answered two questions."
"And they were tiring," you groan, burrowing your face in the warm fabric of his jumper. A hint of mint lingers in the threads and you would chase after the fragrance if not for him holding your chin and angling your head away. "Megumi…"
"One more," he says. "Answer the first part of this question then we can take a break, okay?"
You pout a little, eyes already drooping with a want to sleep. You look cute. You look downright endearing drawing mindless circles on his thigh as you stare at him, silently trying to convince him to take a break now, but he's not going to budge. He raises his brows expectantly, almost daring you to whine once more, but you huff and turn away, reading the question on your paper.
"Good girl." He smiles when you brighten at that, mood lifting from the shred of praise. "What does it say?"
"The first part says 'define and compare analytic and synthetic truths.'"
He hums, leaning in to hover beside you, reading the question over for himself. He knows he's gone over this with you before, and he hopes you remember what he taught you and not the proposition for anal you made after seeing 'analytic'.
He watches as you worry over your bottom lip, licking away the strawberry gloss as you mumble the terms over and over, trying to rack your brain for the answer. There's a cute crease forming between your brows and he would joke about you getting wrinkles now, but he doesn't want to break your flow.
"I know this," you whine, leaning your chin on your hand and glaring down at the sheet of paper. "'Gumi, we did this, I know we did, but I can't— all I can think about is anal now. I remember that."
He's not surprised that your mind has drifted, though he does feel a little bad at how much you're stressing over the question now. He's about to give you a clue when you gasp and turn to him with stars in your eyes.
"It's the— It's the boring one, right?"
And he has no idea where you're going with this, but he says, "Yeah, go on."
"It's, like, with logic and stuff?" you say, tilting your head like a little robin, and he can't help but smile, nodding to encourage you. "And, um, the meanings of words, right?"
He's proud of you — he really is — but it's hard to stay focused on your clueless expression, on your wide eyes waiting for him to put you out of your misery, when he can feel his cock twitch in his pants.
He coughs, praying you keep looking at him and not down at his thighs where your hand has wandered back to. "Yeah, yeah, you got it."
"Really?" You cheer up, squeezing his thigh a little and he tenses, feeling himself harden as your warmth seeps into his clothes. "That doesn't sound fancy enough, though."
"We'll work on that later. Can you— Can you give me an example?"
He hopes you don't dwell on him fumbling over his words, too busy focusing on your fingers drumming along the inner slope of his thigh.
You hum, biting your lip as you think.
Fuck. He shouldn't have looked down, he should've kept his eyes glued to your own because now he can't tear them away from the plump swell of your bottom lip, the smear of your gloss and the tender skin that's hidden beneath the shine. Fuck.
His eyes fall even lower to where your hand is inches away from the tent in his pants. It's pathetic. It's disgusting. It's unfathomably embarrassing that you answering one little thing correctly has him hard as a brick. But, it's undeniable that he twitches — that his trousers get a little tighter, his dick a little harder — when you exclaim, "Like one plus one is two!"
You even smack his thigh when you jolt upright in your excitement, and he hopes you missed the whimper that squeaked out of him at the movement.
"Yeah, yeah, like that. Good— Good job." He ends with a stoic nod, about to tell you to finish the rest of the question when your lips turn down.
"You okay, baby? You're red all of a sudden."
"I'm fine," he replies, feeling anything but. He's lying through his teeth and he doesn't know whether to feel annoyed that you're focusing on him when he doesn't want that, or to feel loved by you caring for him over something so… Itadori-esque. If only you knew the truth.
"You don't feel too hot," you say, checking his temperature with the back of your hand. Your other one still sits dangerously close to his hard-on. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Come on, next question." You drop it and he's grateful for a split second until you shift to look at the paper again, and your arm grazes his hardness.
Don't say anything. Don't say anything. Please, don't say any—
You giggle.
"Oh."
Fuck.
You're biting your lip again — not that he can tell because as soon as he heard your tinkling laughter, he closed his eyes to try and drown out the sound.
"Megumi," you start, a teasing lilt in your voice as you draw out the syllables until he grumbles a reply. "Megumi, baby."
"Don't," he gets out through the grit in his throat. "Just— Get to work."
You hum a sweet agreement, but he should've known better. He should've been more attuned to you, and less… whatever he has going on with him right now.
Especially when he feels your hand slide up his thigh.
"That's not—" He almost wheezes when you squeeze over his bulge, thoughts draining from his mind as you massage him slowly. "Fuck, stop."
"I'm just getting to work like you said, baby." He can feel the gentle tiptoe of your fingers moving up, feel them skim across the sliver of skin left bare between his sweatpants and his jumper. "Is this what you want?"
"That's not—" he gulps, hands closing around the edge of his chair as he lets you slide your hand down his pants. It's a tight fit, but that doesn't matter to him; your fingers barely graze his hardness and it's enough to make him jerk in his seat. "You know that's not what I meant."
"You're not complaining, though," you comment, shifting closer to litter teasing kisses along his jaw. You can feel the grind of bone on bone, the hard line of his angled face softened by the gentle pecks you lay along the curve. His pulse races beneath your lips, only made worse when you nibble over the tender spot until he lets out a quiet groan. "I think you like it. Pretty boy Megumi gets all weak and hard over some studying. Just wait till I tell Nobara this."
He chuckles. A little breathless, a lot tired of the attitude.
A hand wraps around your forearm and you freeze.
Without another word, your arm goes slack in his hold, letting him pull your hand out of his trousers with no hassle.
You really shouldn't have brought up Nobara.
You can't tell what he's thinking, navy eyes barely glancing over your form when he tugs you along, hauling you onto his lap. His chest is firm along your body and his cock pokes your lower back, but he pays it no mind.
"Synthetic truths. Answer."
You slump in his hold. "Seriously? Aren't we—"
"Answer it now," he demands, squeezing your waist so you straighten up. "If you get it right, I'll think about letting you cum."
"That's not fair," you mumble, crossing your arms and rereading the sheet in front of you.
"Should've thought of that before you got all smart on me."
"You like when I'm smart," you tease, pushing back on the hardness that still digs into you before he holds you still.
"If I don't hear an answer soon, we're both going to be disappointed."
You huff, blinking to clear the cloudiness in your eyes so you can focus on the words a little better.
"They're, um," you start, murmuring the words over and over in hopes it jogs your memory. You think you're crawling closer to the answer, nearing the tip of the iceberg when you feel Megumi's hands ghost over your stomach. "Megumi?"
"Try again," he says, more focused on pulling the ends of your skirt up so the fabric pools around your waist. "Come on, you can do it."
"They're the—" you gasp when one cold finger teases over your clit through your panties, fumbling over your words as he lightly taps down to the growing wet spot then back up again. "The ones with the, the thing that— that says— M-Megumi, please."
He clicks his teeth, moving his fingertip over the bud with a painstaking slowness. Your nails dig into your palm when he pulls aside the cloth to play with your pussy, a quiet squelch sounding when he finally sinks his finger into you. "Almost there," he murmurs, brushing his nose along your neck, rubbing against your silken walls. "Just say a little more for me."
"They're the ones with — ah, more, more, please," you whimper. He indulges you for now, slipping in a second finger and then holding still.
He kisses the crook of your neck. "Go on."
"It's about experience," you say, but it sounds more like a question with the way your pitch rises at the end. You're on the right track, though, and Megumi rewards your progress by curling his fingers, a gesture that has your back arching, moans slipping from your mouth. "Experience! Like, like, um, what you— what you know because you, you feel so good—" he clicks his teeth again, pulling his fingers out to lightly slap your sex before pushing three fingers back in "—sorry, sorry! It's when you, you know it because you see it. Like, like with your senses."
He hums, burying himself down to the knuckles, carving his prints into the soft walls of your pussy as he strokes and curls his fingers. "Is that your final answer?"
"Yes! Yes, please, Megumi—"
"Alright," he sighs, pulling his fingers out of you with a lewd squelch. "You did well."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he says, and you feel his smile when he leaves a kiss on your head. "I'm proud of you. Stand up for me."
You waste no time in getting up, using the table in front of you for support when your knees tremble too much. With a low utterance of 'good girl', Megumi bunches your skirt up, pinning it to your lower back with one hand as the other pushes your underwear down.
"You ready?" he asks, guiding the head of his cock along your dripping sex.
"Yes, hurry," you whine, hitting the desk when he circles your clit with his tip, smearing the pre that beads at the top. "Put it in."
"Wait." His tongue strikes his teeth and he stops moving. "You didn't give me an example."
"What?"
"Give me an example of a synthetic truth."
"Are you kidding me?" You try pushing yourself back onto him, but he keeps you at bay with the hand on your back. "Megumi, please, want it so bad."
"The sooner you answer—" he slaps his cock against your slick folds, and you can hear how sloppy and wet you are from all his teasing "—the sooner you can cum."
"Please," you sob. Megumi's sure that if he looked over your shoulder right now, he'd see your mascara running in rivulets. "'Gumi, please, I'll answer after, I swear, just fuck me." He makes a sound of disapproval that you huff at, turning your face to him — his lips quirk when he sees the mess of crystals and carbon black on your cheeks. "You're so mean."
"That's not nice," he mumbles, resting the blunt head of his cock just outside your aching entrance. "But I'll accept it."
The debauched cry you let out when he finally pushes into you sends a shiver down his spine. It's easy to sheathe himself all the way given how wet you are. A creamy ring circles the base of his length when he pulls out, and a filthy pap rings out when he buries himself in again.
"Oh, fuck," he groans, rearing his hips and setting a steady pace. Short, swift thrusts have your breath knocking out of you, body keeling over as his hands grip your waist firmly enough to bruise. "Fuck, you feel so good."
"Just for— for you," you pant, whimpering his name when one hand comes to flick over your clit. The table beneath you shakes under the pressure when Megumi trades speed for power; he relishes the way your pussy clamps down around his length as he sinks all the way in. He pulls out and a choked moan escapes him when you drag him back in just as quickly, your nails digging into his soft thighs as you beg for him to go harder. "Please, please, need more—"
"Yeah," he pants, nudging your legs further apart so he can hammer into you more deeply, balls slapping against your clammy skin with each fervent move. "Yeah, I've got you. Shit— you're so— so tight."
It's dumb-founding how a straight A student like Megumi can be brought down to his knees by you. He can deal with lab work and back-to-back deadlines with minimal stress, but your glassy eyes and sopping pussy have him fumbling for words; just the sight of your slick drenching his thighs has his mind blanking, his thoughts reduced to baser instincts, animalistic groans and curses all that pour out of his mouth.
It doesn't help that he can hear how wet you are. Obscene noises echo each time his hips clap against your ass, and the sound of slick gushing out of you fills his mind every time he looks down to where you're both connected.
"So fucking messy," he rasps. "I can't— can't hold it. Fuck, I'm gonna cum."
"Wanna cum," you cry, and he tilts his hips just a little to the left to have you careening. The tip of his length nudges that soft spot in you that has your entire body tensing, calling his name in broken wails as he doesn't let up.
It isn't much longer until you're boneless in his hold, stars dotting your vision behind closed eyes. He's still pumping into you, rolling around your clit so you sob from all the stimulation, hiccupping, ‘Can't, no more, 'Gumi,’ like a helpless plea. A few thrusts more and he's slumping over your body, buried down to the base inside you, groaning as he finally cums. Your pussy clenches around him in tired pulses, draining him of all his energy, milking him for all his worth.
He blinks away the haze in his eyes, smiling tiredly at the wet squelch that sounds when he pulls his softened length out. His legs feel weak and exhausted, but he manages to bend down enough to pull your panties back up, narrowly catching the way his cum seeps out and darkens the cloth. He falls back onto his seat, dragging you with him since you’re still shaking in place, knees nearly buckling.
"We should— We should take a break," he gets out, helping you when you shift to rest your head on his chest. You hum and he kisses your head before continuing, "No more rewards until you've finished all the work."
"This was all your fault," you say, and he savours the way you struggle to catch your breath. "Getting all— Getting hard when I'm just trying to study."
"Sorry." A part of him is sorry — the part of him that's embarrassed by his newfound weakness, conjuring all the ways you could exploit it to your advantage in the future — but the majority of him is still basking in the afterglow, not too bothered by the derailment of your study session.
"It's fine," you mumble. He really should stop you from nuzzling into his chest because you look like you're about to fall asleep, but you look endearing and he figures a short rest won't harm either of you. That is, until you continue, "I'm still telling Nobara, though."
He pinches your cheek, pushing you away from him. "That's it. Break's over now."
𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞-𝐦𝐨𝐢 (alpha sukuna x omega afab!reader) — pt. 2 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
warnings; lmao okay let's go down the list — ABO dynamics! she/they enby omega!reader (pronouns used interchangeably, reader is referred to as a girl via pet names— i.e. baby girl, good girl, etc). alpha!sukuna, office/modern times au—no curses, boss x employee dynamic. office sex, oral (f!receiving), one singular clit spank, ass play (not full-on anal), asphyxiation/breath play, orgasm delay/denial, light dom/sub, sex toy/vibrator, overstimulation. i think that's it lmao pls lmk if i need to add anything else!
a/n; "eh, i'll just write a little epilogue" — the epilogue: [10k words] idk what happened either i just blinked and this showed up in my google doc, don't look at me. pt. one; pt. two ♡⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾ʚ enjoy! || ~ crossposted on ao3 in case you prefer reading long fics over there ~
“So, in summary, you — Sukuna — were asked to aid the subordinate in an abrupt, unplanned, heat — spurred on not by a prior relationship of any kind, but primarily because you were the only alpha in the vicinity that was awarded the omega’s trust. That resulted in four — no, five — days of intimate exchanges that have culminated in an amorous relationship, of which the two of you require human resource mitigation in regards to work circumstances. Does that sound correct?”
You look over at the alpha by your side, reaching out your hand beneath the heavy oak table to grab hold of his. “Yes, that’s all correct.”
The manager turns her attention towards the man, raising her eyebrows as she reiterates the question. “Sukuna?”
“Yes, Utahime,” he nods, squeezing your hand softly. “You're correct.”
“Okay, good,” the woman says, scribbling her initials across the side margin of the document sitting on the table before her. “Now, last thing. I have to ask… are you confirming that the intimate nature of the relationship will continue? Even if it isn’t, we still need to go over our next steps, but it’ll help me out a ton going forward if we’re all on the same page about this.”
You can feel Sukuna’s eyes fixed on the profile of your face, and when you look over to meet his gaze all you see within his eyes are questions. Does this mean we’re meant to be mated? Do we even like each other outside of the hormones and hedge fund conferences? Is this worth our careers?
Your mouth falls agape, opening and closing with a mumble of words with no meaning. What if you weren’t on the same page? What if it meant more to you than it did to him? What were you, exactly? The questions swirled in your brain, trying to seek refuge in memories of words spoken between moans, and sweet promises made over the sharing of meals. Still, when faced with the question in such a clinical way — even after the long two days of non-heat conversations the two of you had and the years you’d spent knowing him prior to this — the answer was still somewhat hard to find.
“I think it’s fair to say we have some things to figure out,” Sukuna says, his eyes not leaving yours as he takes the reins, “but, the chemistry is there, and to be completely frank, it’s way too strong for me to ever look at her as just an employee ever again. I don’t think I’d have an easy time following any of our employee ‘harassment’ clauses with her around and I definitely don’t think I could go the whole workday having to pretend she’s anything less than my — well, like I said, I think we still have some things to talk about. Still, unless I’ve misread something, I think it’s safe to answer that question with a yes. What do you think?” he asks, passing the question back over to you.
You grin, drinking in his words and all of their implications — along with the passing thoughts of the days worth of merriment you spent shacked up in your home together. You feel your cheeks and neck growing warm, and your mouth going a bit dry. You clear your throat, trying and failing to hide the train of thought your mind has wandered down.
“I think… I agree. We have a few years worth of familiarity and we now have some… experience with each other outside of that, but there’s still plenty to learn. Lots of dates to catch up on, lots of questions to ask, lots of likes and dislikes to be learned.”
“Lots of long nights we’ve missed out on to make up for,” he teases, uncharacteristically quietly for him, though his words are still very audible in the close quarters around Iori’s desk space.
“Ryomen,” she warns, her eyes serious, though the smile on her lips is soft. He apologizes, squeezing your hand gently again as Iori fixes her gaze back onto the paper. You smack his arm softly, though you’re unable to hide the growing smile blooming on your face as you do so.
Iori scribbles down more words and signatures across her paper, quickly typing up something on her computer in tandem with her notes. She clicks a button on the screen and her printer comes to life, popping out a few sheets of white paper covered top to bottom in black ink. She reaches back her arm to grab the sheets from the device, turning them around and placing them in front of both you and Sukuna on your shared side of her desk.
“So, this top sheet is for both of you to sign. It’s just an acknowledgment of the disclosure about your relationship, budding as it may be, and it summarizes the order of events. It also has a confirmation statement from the employee relations department acknowledging their clearance of both of you from any wrongdoings. Please sign that, after you both read it. Your signature on top,” she says, motioning to you, “and your signature on the bottom,” she says, placing a spare pen down on the solid wood of the desk beside the papers.
You both read through the document quickly, nodding towards each other once you’re done. Sukuna signs across the dotted line first — his signature and printed name done in handwriting so pretty that you’re always a bit shocked to see his words written down. He hands the pen to you, holding the top of the paper down flat with his palm to keep it from moving while you scrawl your own signature above his.
With that, Iori takes the top sheet away, quickly shifting the papers so that they’re only sitting on your side of the table. “Now, for this next part, I need to speak directly to you. I’m assuming you’re familiar with our chief operations officer, Mei Mei. Correct?”
You nod, staring at the fair-skinned woman in wait for further explanation.
“Well, funny timing. She has officially extended an offer for you to come on board as her executive officer of operations — slash, head project manager. We haven’t exactly figured out the terminology of the role completely yet. I apologize,” Iori chuckles, twirling a Santos De Cartier rollerball pen between her lithe fingers. “But, anyway, this decision shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone; truthfully, we’ve been debating on who should fill the position for a while and you were at the top of the list long before this little ‘situation’ came to light. The final pick, being you, was made well over a month ago, but Mei Mei hadn’t been sure when to extend her offer. It would’ve screwed us if we had to let you go too soon. But now, all the associate executive training is done, and — after some internal review —we concluded that nothing unsavory was happening between the two of you prior to this past week. So, all the loose ends are tied.”
You look over at Sukuna, a grin curling the corner of your lips as you take in the smug smile painted on his. “Wait… Mei Mei wants me to come work under her? So… that means—”
“Congratulations on the promotion, and the six-figure raise,” Iori winks, placing her pen down beside her computer’s keyboard. “You’ll have to report to Mei Mei in her office on the flip side of downtown starting on Thursday, should you accept the offer and if the immediate start date works for you. This change in position will remove you from Sukuna’s direct subordination, so you two can continue whatever this is that you have going on, and we don’t have to lose either of you. I think they call this a… win-win?”
You chuckle, though the expression doesn’t stay on your face for very long. “But,” you hesitate, exhaling a slow stream of breath, “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I mean, I’ve only been here two years, and the company is still so new relative to that, and I’m sure there must be someone else with more experience or know-how than me that would have been a better fit. I just… I gave myself time to mold myself for this role that I’m currently in. I wasn’t really prepared to jump up to third-in-command overnight. I just — it feels sudden. And, won’t people think it’s a bit fishy that I was gone for a week — so was my boss — now we both come back, at the same time, and all of a sudden I’m changing locations and working a new position that makes triple my old salary? I just… I don’t want anyone to question how I got this.”
Sukuna shakes your hand a bit, drawing your attention.
“Bunny, isn’t there a saying about this? Something like… ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?” Sukuna says, his voice teasing. “Listen, I need you to understand that you aren’t being given this opportunity. I had no pull on this decision at all, this all came down to Mei Mei and Nanami’s final deliberation. You fucking earned this! We’ve tripled our profits annually every year since you’ve stepped into your position. You’re quick as hell at the mouth and we’ve doubled our clientele base because of it. I mean, you talk circles around these guys we deal with every day and you make them see things your way. Not only that, but you make them think it was all their idea in the first place. It’s insane, and very… interesting to watch, to say the least.”
Iori clears her throat, a very knowing look on her face as she stares Sukuna down.
He grins, taking the opportunity to kiss the top of your hand. “Sorry, I’ll stop. But, [y/n], the only thing you need to be worried about right now is what color you want the walls painted in your corner office. You were great in your position here — amazing in fact, and everyone knows it. Now, you get to show off your shit at this new job. You’ll be great at it. I wouldn’t have pitched you for it all those weeks ago if I didn’t genuinely think it was true.”
You look into his eyes, the ruby-red sparkle in them calling out to yours. You feel your heart swell as you take him in — all of it in, really. It’s just… so much, so fast.
“Well, to be fair,” Iori quips, bringing you both back down into the moment, “Mei Mei was prepared to wait on an answer anyway, so you don’t have to decide on the offer right this second. It’s a big jump, I can’t fault you for being a little hesitant. However, I do have to explain that — given your position in the company — there’s not much else we can do with your employment here if you don’t want to move up. Unfortunately, you can’t work here and stay on as Ryomen’s direct report, but you’ve climbed the ladder here so quickly there’d be nowhere else for you to go, at least in our location, should you not accept the offer,” she says, her top lip curled down towards her bottom one. “Likewise, Sukuna is our chief information officer. So, to say the least, losing him in that role would also fuck us. But, [y/n]... you are nothing short of brilliant in your role. You’ve made us millions in profit, you’re constantly innovating new things for our customers, and investors, and overall… you’re a superstar. It’d be a huge loss for us if you decided not to stay. But, you’re free to do what you want in your personal life. Neither I nor Sukuna can, nor should we, make that decision for you.”
The alpha nods, squeezing your hand one final time before letting it go. “You heard her angel. The decision’s all yours.”
“Yeah,” you nod back, sitting up straighter in your chair as you reach over to grab a pen from Iori’s desk. “It sure is.”
“Alright, your paintings are officially bubble-wrapped and your coffee mugs are safe inside their padded box. Is that everything?”
“Almost. I still need to clean out my desk drawers, rehome these last three plants — but honestly, I think I can just leave them outside the door and someone will take them, then… I think I’ll be done.”
Nobara hums, loitering beneath the doorway of your nearly empty office. “It looks so weird in here without all your stuff,” she says, looking around the almost empty room. “However, you do realize that the whole point of your boss arranging a moving company for you is that you don’t have to do any of the packing or the moving… right?”
You chuckle, popping open a new moving box and sitting it on top of your office desk. “I know,” you groan, plopping down into the desk chair, “I just… wanted to go through my stuff to see what was a keep and what was a toss, but then I started really going through it all, and getting memories behind a lot of it, and I couldn’t help myself. At least now I know it was all packed with love.”
Nobara rolls her eyes playfully, walking into the room and sitting down on the newly exposed and vacuumed carpet. “I get it. This was basically your second home for the last couple of years. I imagine it’s a little hard to leave.”
“A little,” you scoff, a sad smile crossing your features. “I really am gonna miss this place. The catered food, the second-floor espresso machine, casual dress, ‘bring your fur child to work’ day, bar crawl night, the food delivery discounts, the weekly massages, the office parties…”
Nobara smirks, her eyes trained on you as she watches you dwindle down the list. “Oh please. Mei Mei’s office has everything we do, plus: comped hair appointments, makeup and skincare consultations, financial advisory, and I’ve heard rumors that she gives you a company credit card that rewards cashback and airline miles that she lets you keep. Frankly, I don’t think you’ll miss it here too much once those perks start rolling in.”
You chuckle, drawing your legs up to cross them in your lap, looking fondly at the beta woman. “Fair point. She does love making sure her people are taken care of and on her level. Still, it won’t be the same. The people there won’t be… well, you guys. Can’t replace that.”
Nobara rolls her eyes, rocking back onto her tailbone with her face towards the sky. “God, stop it. You were sappy enough during your going away party yesterday. I can’t handle it again today.”
You tease the beta, imitating her poor attempts at concealing her sniffles when you’re interrupted, the last person to stop by your office on the ‘office goodbye tour’ peeking into the doorway.
“Hey. Am I interrupting?” Maki says, poking her head into the room. You shake your head no, waving her in through the agape door of your office.
“Wow, I came to help out but it looks like you two got all the major packing done,” she says, looking around the barren room. “Well, not to add to the pile but I come bearing gifts. The whole department chipped in and got you one last thing as a ‘final goodbye’ present.”
She pulls out a wide black box from the large pocket in her briefcase, sitting the package down in front of you on your desk.
“Oh, what’s all this?” you say, your voice light as you stand up to open the box, eyeballing the myriad of items tetris'd neatly inside: a miniature Dior perfume, a labelless golden pendant necklace, Clase Azul Reposado Tequila, macarons, and a candle with a custom “good luck finding better co-workers than us” label with all of your associates’ names listed in tiny font.
“Aw, Maki! This is so sweet,” you say, the tears left unshed threatening to spill over in your eyes. “Thank you! God, you didn’t have to. This stuff is expensive! How did you even get all this?”
The older omega chuckles, crossing her arms across her chest. “Ryomen pays us all pretty well, you know. Also, Miwa down in sales has a connection that does VIP gift boxes at a big discount so we didn’t break the bank too much. Besides, you deserve it, and this promotion.”
You round your large desk, pulling the fellow omega into a tight hug. She tries to fight it, but after a few seconds, you feel her sigh in relentment, wrapping her own arms around you in a loose hug. “I should’ve let Itadori come give this to you instead before everyone left. Of course, I end up being the last one here to see you off. Well, and Nobara I guess,” she huffs, absentmindedly tightening the hug. “As the French say, ‘tant pis.’ I guess I’ll accept this on everyone’s behalf. You’re lucky your hugs feel nice and your hair smells like grapefruit.”
“Oh, whatever Maki,” Nobara interrupts, hopping up from her place on the floor to bounce up to you two, wrapping her arms around you both to make the hug a group affair. “You love this. Wouldn’t be rambling so much if you didn’t.”
You can’t see the juniper-haired girl roll her eyes, but you can feel it in the way her shoulders slump. You chuckle, rubbing both of the girls’ backs with the flat palms of your hands. “I’ll miss you both. I literally wouldn’t have made it last week without you so… thank you. I can’t think of the words to say other than that, and that I appreciate you both. I’m glad I met you.”
Nobara groans, her sounds muffled by the fabric of Maki’s sleeve. “Please, why are we acting like you’re moving to Timbuktu? You’re just going to the other side of downtown!” she laughs, lifting her face to look at you directly. “You’re not even moving! Just changing work locations.”
You giggle, leaning back with your arms still wrapped around the other girls’ waists. “You’re right. I won’t be far away, and I promise I won’t be a stranger. We can have our own little bar crawl night once I’m settled in with the new gig! How about that?”
“I’m down,” Nobara says, a smile beaming on her face.
“I’ll show up,” Maki smirks, pulling you back in for one final squeeze.
“You better,” you quip, looking behind Maki’s head to glance at the clock still fixed on your wall. “Oh, guys, you should get going. Traffic’s already bad but if you don’t go now then you’ll get stuck in peak rush hour traffic — aka, hell.”
The two women both turn their heads, looking up at the clock and prickling at the time.
“Shit, we probably should. Are you not coming with us?” Nobara asked, walking back over to where she’d left her purse on the carpeted floor. Maki sauntered over to her, not really doing anything, just hovering around in the beta’s space.
You shake your head no, scrunching your nose in protest. “Nah. You two go ahead. I want to get my desk packed and I have some paperwork to square away, then I’ll go.”
She pouts, jutting out her bottom lip and squinting her amber-colored eyes in contemplation.
“Don’t make that face,” you chuckle, corralling both women towards the door. “I’ve been staying here late for years. Security will still be here for a few more hours and I parked in the keycode garage so… I’ll be fine. Hurry up and go or it’ll take you an hour to get home.”
They both looked at you with dejected expressions on their faces. Maybe because this felt like a goodbye, even though you all knew it was more like a “see you later.” This was really it. The next time either of them saw you in a work setting again would be a conference, or maybe an office party you’d be invited to by proxy of Sukuna — if that continued — or maybe Nobara would invite you herself, or maybe Inumaki would extend the invitation via email with a cute little flyer he’d have made himself on Photoshop. Who knows.
It just felt a little strange to say goodbye, even with the little time you’d spent getting to know them both. But, sometimes friendship feels right like love at first sight. The two women were great humans, and it did hurt a bit to be abandoning the blossoming friendships. Physically, at least.
“Go, go,” you say, shooing them both towards the hallway, waving down at them as they finally pivot on their feet and move towards the elevators — mainly Maki, sort of pulling Nobara along with her hand on the beta’s lower back.
“Text when you’re home, please! And don’t drink too much of that tequila, it’s really strong! And it sneaks up on you!” Nobara yelled once they’d made it, leaving the office hallway in stark quiet once the elevator doors closed in her face.
You turn, sighing to yourself as you move back into your office, closing the door behind you as you make your way back to your desk, plopping back down into your large office chair. You dive into sorting through your things, turning on soft music over the speaker of your phone while you work on filling the last box. Admittedly, there was quite a bit of stuff in your drawers, but only so much of it served an actual purpose. You had typical office things of course: your pens, your stapler, highlighters, etc. But there were also plenty of knickknacks and other personal items you’d collected over the years: a fuzzy headband for nights where you’d stayed in the office late enough that you did your skincare routine, a few room temperature sodas, aforementioned skincare routine set, a metal scalp massager for when you got headaches, Tylenol for when you got headaches, socks for when your feet got cold, a heating pad, loose change, candy, and —
“Oh. I thought I took you home,” you mutter, digging around in the middle drawer of your desk until you unearth a little pink bullet vibrator. To be fair, the nights at the office were long, and the days could be stressful. The week leading up to your heat had you even more on edge than normal, understandably. Lingering thoughts about one tall, tattooed, rosey-haired alpha didn’t help the matter much either.
You smirk to yourself as thoughts stir in your brain featuring the man, heat rising beneath your collar as memories of the week that you’d spent together cross your mind. His scent — a heady mix of honey, pine, and peppercorn — still lingers in the back of your throat. His hands left imprints you can still feel on your hips. Your scent gland still throbs dully from the healed puncture marks carved delicately by his teeth, and your lips still feel numb from the weight of his kisses.
Your hand follows down the line of your jaw, mimicking the motions of his blunt nails tracing the smooth edges of your face. You lower your hand down the front of your shirt, cascading down the slope of your breasts over the peaked buds straining hard from the slightly air-conditioned chill of your office. You pinch them, groping your own chest with hands that are too small to imitate the alpha’s but feel good nonetheless. You lean back in the chair, forcing the top of the seat to recline. You take off your shoes, pulling up your knees and placing your feet flat near the edge of your seat while your hand moves further, trailing down your stomach before you find yourself stopping, lingering the touch above your womb. The absentminded thought of “what if” crosses your mind in a flash before you quickly shake it away, going down further to rest above your sex through the fabric of your bottoms.
Your office is secluded enough that, even if someone else had been present on your floor, no one would have been able to see you with your door closed, and you were always quiet enough that they definitely wouldn’t have been able to hear you if you made a little noise. In the two whole years you’d spent in your position, you’d never worried about anything more than the occasional janitor coming by, knocking lightly against the thick, heavy, wooden door before peeking in to ask if they could clean. An executive or two might have stayed late like you did but you were always aware, so your noises stayed hushed and your door remained closed. This would be your last opportunity to do this in the comfort of your own office. One more orgasm for the road couldn’t hurt.
You keep that in mind when your hand breaches the band of your underwear, sliding down into the wet slick leaking from your slit. The tip of your finger slides against the puffy lips, dipping down into the slippery warmth to rub circles around your swollen clit. You sink deeper into your seat, thinking desperately about the way Sukuna’s hands felt when he did this to you. Sitting you down in his lap, your back against his chest, rubbing lazy little circles against your clit while you watched TV on the couch during a moment of partial lucidity — lapping his tongue against all the nips and bites littering your skin to accelerate the healing simultaneously coaxing you into what must have been your seventh orgasm of that day to distract you from the contraction of your scar-devoid skin.
You lower your hand gripping the vibrator down to meet the other, replacing that hand with the soft vibrations from the toy. The sensation is inherently very different from your fingers, but the increase in pleasure is instantly palpable. The heat that’d built within your chest moved down to shroud your sex, tangling and pulsating within the swollen bud until you feel something akin to what lightning might taste like. Building and building until —
*knock knock knock*
The quick tapping of knuckles against your office door startles you, causing you to jolt upward as your heart rate skyrockets.
“Who is it,” you yell a touch too loud, stopping the vibrations from the toy.
“Housekeeping,” the person says, though you can tell from the coyness laced into the baritone voice that it’s definitely not housekeeping.
You remove your hand from your pants, tossing the toy into the box on your desk before wiping the wet digits on a company t-shirt you had stuffed in your desk drawer. “Come in.”
The alpha opens the door, sliding into the room dressed in casual clothes — very casual for him, actually. The alpha’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt, athletic pants, and sneakers which is a nice contrast to his normal (laid back) business attire, and a wonderful reminder of the sort of clothing he’d worn on the last day of your heat — when the temperature outside dropped thus increasing the need for warm clothes, and cuddles, which the agency preemptively provided.
He looks cute.
“I—” Sukuna starts, though the words get stuck in his throat as he inhales, sniffing the pheromones saturating the air. He looks down at you, his eyes trained on you with that look you’d spent the last week getting used to. “Were you just…”
“Yes,” you admit, too self-aware of the smell — the smell that you normally would have dispelled by turning on your air purifier… the thing that Nobara had so kindly packed for you first as you’d cleared out your things. And you — stupid, horny, post-heat you — didn’t think to crack a window or something.
Your natural scent was more prominent than it normally would have been, since you’d foregone wearing the intensely strong blockers you’d used before. You made the switch to a more neutral brand, like the kind most omegas in your country chose to use. Still, the scent of arousal was not mutually exclusive to your omega scent, so… it could stand out on its own even through blockers. Obviously.
“What were you thinking about that got you horny enough to touch yourself in the workplace, huh?” he asks, sauntering towards you, watching you like a lion stalking prey through the tall elephant grass of the savannah. He grabs the arms of your chair once he reaches you and leans down into your space, his nose mere inches from your own.
“How’d you know I was still here?” you ask, meeting his gaze. “Stalking me?”
He chuckles, running his tongue across his bottom row of teeth. “I asked you a question first bunny.”
“I asked you second Ryo. I got the last word, so you have to answer me first,” you tease, running your sock-covered foot up his torso, pushing up the fabric of his shirt.
The alpha tenses his jaw, turning his head slightly to the right like he might kiss you, but he doesn’t. “I came to get some papers from my office. Asked Aoi why he was still in the security station and he said he was waiting around since you were still up here… and because Yuki isn’t here to switch shifts with him yet.”
You smile, lifting yourself up enough to trap his bottom lip between your teeth, soothing it with a soft kiss. “She’s something else. Gotta love her.”
“Mhm,” he hums, deepening the kiss as he sinks down to balance on his heels. “Answer my question, kitten.”
You giggle, the sound coming out more breathless than you meant for it to. “Well, I was packing some things.”
“Go on,” Sukuna coaxes, lifting the fabric of your shirt to expose the soft flesh of your tummy, kissing and nipping the skin above the band of your bottoms voraciously. He grips the fabric there, sliding down the material —and your underwear, by proxy — until it's pooled on the floor and your legs are exposed to the chilled air of your office. He kisses your skin — all over your hips and lower belly as his eyes look up at you expectantly.
“I, uh, while I was sorting through everything — I found a little toy I’d brought to keep me company on late nights, and I started thinking about some things and I thought… well, no one’s here. Might as well have one last hurrah in my office while it’s still mine.”
His eyes pop open wide, the kissing ceases as the alpha stares at you in unabashed bewilderment. “I’m sorry,” he scoffs, standing up in an instant. He moves his legs to balance one knee on your seat, situated between your legs and forcing them open, while he brings up his free hand to grip your jaw firmly.
You smirk, the little laugh that escapes your lips followed quickly by a groan when his fingers dip down to wrap — less firmly — around your throat. A gentle threat, but not enough for you to lose your ability to speak.
“You mean to tell me… that all those long nights we were working together —just a floor apart — you were in here touching my pussy right under my nose?”
You chuckle, lightly scraping your nails along the span of his muscular forearm to wrap around his wrist. “I don’t remember saying it was yours, and it definitely wasn’t yours then,” you tease, lifting your hips to rut against his thigh placed perfectly between your legs. “I was playing with my pussy, in my office, thinking about how badly I wanted my boss to come down here and fuck me so hard I couldn’t remember my own name.”
Sukuna grins, placing his left palm flat on your lower belly to stop your movements. “Funny you mention that, bunny. See, I remember you screaming for me while I fucked you for five straight days, with two extra thrown in for good measure — even after the heat stopped. You let me, and all of your neighbors, know whose pussy this is — over, and over, and over again for 168 hours. Every time I filled this tight little cunt with my cum and stuffed you full with my knot — you came, and you cried, and you begged me to do it all over again. ‘Til you were so full of my cum that you couldn’t even keep your eyes open, and you couldn’t remember your name ‘til day six.”
He leans down into your space again, so close you can taste the peppermint on his breath from whatever brand of gum he must have chewed before coming into your office. “The heat must’ve made your memory a little hazy, baby” the alpha coos, placing a ghost of a kiss against your lips, “that’s okay. I think you just need a little refresher, huh kitten?”
You nod, twisting your hips side to side beneath the pressure from his hand, groaning when he tightens the pressure on your neck, enjoying the lightweight feeling that envelops your brain for a few moments, his gaze intense as he looks down at your face to gauge your reactions. He kisses your chin and your cheeks as his hand on your throat relaxes, moving it back to cradle your neck. His fingers spread, gliding along the surface of your scalp before he grabs a fistful of your hair there near your nape. He yanks back your head, pulling you into a searing kiss that steals all the breath from your lungs. Then, the alpha's tongue pushes into your mouth, the sound of your kisses loud in the empty room even over the sound of your music.
You revel in the taste of him on your lips, falling into the push and pull of his mouth on yours easily as though you’d never left the comfort of your queen bed. Sukuna groans as he takes in a deep breath, separating his lips from yours to suck the pulsating scent gland on your neck. “How long were you touching yourself before I walked in?” he murmurs, relaxing the hand gripping your hair to cradle your head in his large hand.
You moan, straining the tendon housed between the muscles and bone there to allow him utmost access to your throat. The submission crashes heavily on your senses, and the fervent swirling of “want” brewing beneath your skin comes bubbling up to the surface. “Too long,” you whine, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the pressing need for him grows, “please, alpha.”
The alpha's scent flares — that signature mix of woodiness and sweetness you craved so deeply flooding into your nose and dulling your senses. The music is silent, the ambient light from your last remaining lamp dims, and the only scent in the office belongs to the man above you.
“Alpha?” he mimics, moving the hand on your belly down, slipping his fingers into the dripping wet heat of your cunt. “What happened to Ryo angel? Losing yourself already and I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”
A moan spills from your lips — a loud desperate sound as he curls the digits, pushing against the spongy patch of nerves along the top of your walls. He's kissing you wherever he can reach: your jaw, your ears, your collarbones… anywhere. The alpha's mouth explores further down while his fingers work, eventually stopping when he’s situated above your breast. His teeth graze over your nipples still covered by the pesky layer of your clothing, biting the little nub before placing a soothing kiss there in vain. He reclaims the hand that’d held your head up, letting your upper body relax against the leather of the chair so he can remove your shirt — making quick work of untying the little decorative ribbon in the middle and unbuttoning the snaps, exposing you fully. “So pretty baby,” Sukuna coos, leaning down to suck the bud into his mouth, moving his thumb against your clit in maddening circles.
“Please,” you sigh, a sharp intake of breath quickly following when he adds slight pressure from his teeth. “Please, ‘was already close. Just… more. A little more.”
He hums against your breast, sending vibrations down into your chest, resonating in your heart. “Say it, and I’ll let you cum.”
“Say — oh — what?”
Sukuna looks up at you, his fiery red eyes alight with mischief. “Tell me who’s pussy this is, and I’ll let you cum.”
You scoff, looking down at him through squinted eyes as the spirit of mischief makes its way into you. “Keep dreaming,” you tease, tilting your head back to break eye contact, not allowing the incoming flood of endorphins tip-toeing around your brain to make you break. “You only heard me say that because you caught me in a heat. Now — fuck — I’m lucid, Ryo. You have to earn it.”
His muscles stiffen, the motions of his fingers against your clit coming to a halt. He pulls out the digits and unlatches his mouth from your breast, sucking your essence off of his fingers as he moves, sauntering over to the couch teaming with pillows you’d gotten to accent its forest green color.
The man grabs four pillows and a blanket from the small pile of (decorative) bedding, walking back towards your desk on the side opposite of where you’re sitting, touching yourself again to replace the alpha’s larger, more flexible, fingers.
“Whatcha doin’?” you ask, your voice still heavy with arousal as you watch the alpha move around the room.
He drops two of the pillows onto the surface of your desk, sliding one of them close to the edge of the table, while the thick blanket is spread onto the floor in front of your couch, and the other pillows are scattered around the area. He ignores you — the only indication he’s even listening to you, and what your hands are doing, is the sharp spike in that honey undertone in his scent that alludes to his growing arousal. That and the outline of his cock jumping a bit under the loose fabric of his Nike running pants.
The alpha walks over to you again, his eyes trained on you like a lion once more as he stops in front of you. He leans down, smacking your hands away from your sex as he slides his arm around the center of your back, hoisting you up and out of your chair with that arm while the other comes up to support you by holding your ass. He gives it a squeeze, followed instantly by a loud smack.
“I’m earning it.” The man carries you to the other side of the desk with ease, laying you back on the wooden surface with one pillow beneath your head, and the other slid underneath your tailbone.
He kneels, his face level with your cunt nosing the soft patch of hair above your sex before moving his mouth further down, kissing the puffy lips of your cunt before he dips in his tongue, sucking and licking the swollen bud with a fervor you assumed was isolated in those last few hours he’d been in his rut. Part of your brain thanks the gods you were wrong.
“More, Ryo,” you cry, the sensations shooting up your spine like little shocks, tingling along the nerves branching off from the bones. Your orgasm comes up to the surface again so quickly, right on the edge of your tongue when the alpha pulls away, landing a firm swat against your pussy when you whine. “What the fuck!” you groan, your mouth falling slack in confusion.
He chuckles, moving his head to kiss your inner thighs. “Be patient. I’m proving a point.”
“You’re such a dick,” you snicker, lacing your hand through his hair to tug harshly on the pink locks, drawing his attention back up to your eyes. “Make me cum, and maybe I’ll let you fuck me.”
Sukuna didn’t respond to that verbally, but the glint in his eye made your flushed skin shiver.
Your head knocks back down towards the desk when he places his tongue back onto your clit — flicking the tip just how you like until that same burning heat is back, licking at the core of your stomach from within. He inserts his fingers, adding more stimulation that turns the flame into a fever pitch of pleasure that nearly drives you over the edge. But, it doesn’t, because he pulls away again. “Sukuna,” you whine, aching for release.
Your skin burns — the surface warm and wet with sweat while crackles of electricity run haywire underneath. You feel him laughing against your skin where he’s kissing you, notably not where you need him to be, and you feel something within you snap.
“Fine,” you challenge, sitting up enough to stretch your arm upwards, feeling around inside the moving box not far from your head. You find what you’re looking for instantly since it was right on top where you’d left it. “It’s the 21st-century love, I can do it myself.”
You click the vibrator’s “on” button making the skinny, finger-length, textured bullet hum to life. The alpha's eyes grow wide as you trail the device down your stomach, getting it all the way down to the top of your slit before the alpha catches your wrist, a low growl rumbling from the depth of his chest.
“Oh, it’s like that?” he says, raising his eyebrow.
“Yeah, it’s like that,” you say, breathless and impossibly turned on.
His eyes grow darker — the characteristic persian red looking more like the finest Chateau Margaux red wine. The vibrator is swiftly plucked from your hand, though the man doesn’t turn it off or put it away like you thought he might. No, instead, he runs the toy down the valley of your folds, not stopping his descent until the toy is pressed against the slick-slippery hole below your cunt. “Say yes or no,” he coaxes, his voice frighteningly deadpan.
“Jesus,” you jump, your hips bucking against his forearm that’s placed against your lower belly as the vibrations flow through you. “I — I haven’t done it t-that way since —”
“I know baby,” he coos, not pushing the toy any further but not pulling it back at all either. “That was in the heat of, well… your heat. Say no and I’ll stop.” The vibrations from the soft touch echo into your pussy, just barely kissing the tips of the nerves that go up to the button that craves the alpha's touch.
You nod, a firm, “yes,” escaping your lips before your mind has time to process it. A smirk crosses his face then as he moves, running soothing circles with his fingers on your hips as the the toy pushes forward — breaching the puckered hole easily before stopping at the slightly flared base.
“Good girl,” Sukuna coos, untying the little band of fabric keeping his pants snug on his waist as he lowers his face again, this time not teasing at all with the precision of his tongue on your clit. He slips his fingers back into your walls, massaging the inside in tandem with the vibration pattern of the toy in your ass. The toy’s placement inside you — only separated from your cunt by a thin layer of muscle — sparks gleam behind the lids of your eyes.
Your mind goes blank — only Sukuna and the tangled mess of your scents bleeding into the symphony of pure bliss resounding in your brain. “Ryo,” you cry, gripping the back of his hair with your hand, keeping him fixed in place with his tongue flicking with fervor against your clit. He hums, sucking the bud into his mouth while his tongue keeps the same motion. He adds suction, physically coaxing the pleasure from your core. “God. I — I… please don’t, again,” you cry, your words a jumbled mess as the heat turns to open flame beneath the tight knot settled in your belly, growing larger and taller until it’s burning the rope, puffing up angrily as the band melts away, singed and weak as the coil snaps and a wave of relief pours over you like summer rain — warm and wet with remnants of the fire.
You cross your feet at the ankles, keeping them firm around the man's back as your orgasm washes over your body, radiating from the crown of your head down to your toes. The vibration of the toy is still going, and his fingers are still plunging inside of you, even as the waves settle down and the lightness in your head starts to feel grounded again.
“Too much,” you whisper, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head when Sukuna puts his mouth back on you, sucking — albeit more gently — at the throbbing, overstimulated, bud.
The alpha hums, using his thumb to turn off the vibrator as he stills his hand, though his mouth stays in place for a few more seconds, sucking your clit slowly to keep it engorged and sensitive before he moves, taking off his shirt to expose his toned abs. “Keeping your promise?” he asks, licking your essence from his lips.
You smile, grabbing your knees to spread your legs apart, exposing yourself fully for the alpha. “Take me however you want me. You earned that,” you say, a coy smile on your lips as he scoffs, understanding the implication in your words.
“Okay,” he says, jutting out his chin a bit as he nods his head, standing up straight and grabbing your shins, “we’ll see how long that little attitude lasts.” You look down, pleased to see his cock out and standing at attention as he grabs it, fisting the length and giving it a few tugs before pushing himself up against your entrance. He removes the toy and tosses it back to land on the blanket — then, he’s in you, filling you up and forcing the air out of your lungs.
“Fuck, Sukuna. So — god, you’re big,” you groan, your pussy squeezing around him as you adjust to the length. It had only been a few days since the last time you’d had the older man inside of you. You weren’t as tightly wound as your body could be, but he was an alpha — a very well-endowed alpha. The only reason he hadn’t been so hard to take during your heat, your first time, was because — well, your body was ready for it on a biological level. Your omega body was made to fit and accommodate whatever size your alpha presented with. Still, he was blessed in the width department more than the length (though that was perfect as well) so it took a moment to relax enough for him, even as turned on as you were and no matter how many times you’d done this before during your week together.
Calloused hands rub up and down the back of your thighs soothingly, kissing your legs in the spots he could reach while you panted, placing your hand on his lower abdomen to prevent him from moving (even though he wasn’t making any move to do so yet). “If you can’t take it this way we can move, bunny. Don’t force it.”
You look up into his eyes, still deep and dark but with a soft edge to them that looks so childish on his otherwise sharp features. You try to relax more, shimming your hips this way and that to see if any slight movements can make the position more manageable, but it doesn’t. “Fuck,” you huff, wiping your hands down your face, “I think I need to move.”
Sukuna chuckles, sliding his hands under your back to scoop you up into his strong arms, the tip of his length still inside of you as he carries you over to the blanket in front of your couch. “On top or from the back?” he asks, gently wiping his hand through the sweat-damp hair sticking to your face.
“Back,” you grin, kissing him as the alpha lowers your bodies down to the floor. He sits you down, pulling you into a searing kiss as he lowers himself down to his knees. One of the pillows he’d taken earlier is handed to you as you scoot backward towards the couch — not stopping until your back hits the upholstery. Your hands find the sides of his face, holding him close to keep him kissing you as you turn around to bend over the cushioned edge of the furniture. He adjusts with your body, turning his head to the side to keep your lips connected as he slides up behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other rests on the couch in front of you — level with your breasts. He pinches your erect nipples as you wiggle the pillow beneath your knees, giving you more leverage against the alpha’s tall height, and keeping the poor bones there from getting sore too quickly.
“I want you,” you purr, slowly fucking yourself back on the tip of his cock as the stretch transitions to pleasure, and the slight sting from his length holding you open blossoms into warmth. “Please Ryo.”
Sukuna pouts, sliding his cock into you slowly until his hips are flush against your ass. “Ryo… Ryo… Ryo,” he tsks, tilting your chin up so he can look at your eyes, “am I making you feel good bunny?” he asks, his voice sounding too firm for the words to be a question. "Good enough for you to be a good little omega and submit for me?"
You nod your head yes — the weight from the edging and the burn left wilting on your skin in the race towards another release making your resolve wain. All thoughts of stubbornness level your brain as you crane your neck more, coaxing the alpha — your alpha — back in with a kiss. He moves his hand away from your breast to grip your jaw — sliding his hand down to your throat again which stops your movements. Red eyes bore into yours, asking for your permission and accepting your consent when you nod, grabbing the alpha's wrist gently as he increases the firmness of his hold on your neck. He kisses you then, letting pressure go then applying it again on your throat as he starts to move against you, fucking into you torturously slowly as the blood flow is tampered with in your brain.
“More,” you moan, using a lull in pressure to sigh out the word, pushing your own hips back to fuck yourself harder on his cock. “I can take more, alpha.”
He groans into your ear, readjusting your bodies just enough for his leverage to change, and he lets go. His hips snap against your ass, fucking his cock into you so deep and hard that tears form on your waterline from the sudden increase in stimulation. His length rubs every inch of your insides — the alpha towering over you fucking into you with a precision that shouldn’t be possible with so much girth inside your slick walls. The angle of his hips is perfectly fixed towards the sensitive spot within you and the lack of oxygen just adds to the stimulation. You nearly pass out when he moves his hand down between your body and the couch, placing his digits there to toy with your clit.
“So fucking wet and tight baby,” Sukuna moans, a low groan that sounds more like a growl in his throat coming out as he uses his knee to push yours out, opening you up a little more for him, “Fuck, your pussy’s so perfect. Tight and hot and so—so fucking wet angel. Just for me.” His hand relaxes enough to give you air again, and the blood rushing back to your head triggers the same sensation in your cunt.
“A—Alpha,” you sputter, your eyes shut tight as you freefall into the pool of pleasure Sukuna has built for you. The edging made your clit so sensitive; more sensitive and responsive than you’d ever felt before your heat — before you’d first let Sukuna have his way with your body, and you, his. “Feels so good. God, you fuck me so good. No one else w—will ever have me like this. Just you, alpha. Ryo.”
A low sound — unmistakably a growl — rumbles in his chest and the speed of his hips increases. The alpha fucks you like he wants to imprint himself into your cunt forever, to mold you around him so no other man would ever have a chance of feeling you the way he does. He lowers his head to the scent gland nestled at the base of your neck — a harmless little spot that meant nothing in regards to mating but served as a landmine for scenting — and he bites, drinking down the strong scent of peaches and white wine that radiates from it.
“Oh!” you cry, the orgasm sneaking up on you with a punch that knocks the air from your lungs again, even more than Sukuna’s hand had been capable of around your throat, and the tears fall — hot and wet as the two trails travel down your cheeks. “It’s yours! Fuck, it’s yours. I’m yours.”
Sukuna groans against your neck as your walls cinch tight around his cock, milking it for all he’s worth as his orgasm washes over him as well. You feel his cock twitch harshly inside of you, fucking you full of his cum that mingles with the flood of slick dripping from your cunt. “Fuck, bunny,” he moans, rubbing his hand along your jawline as his kisses pepper your skin. “You’re amazing. So smart, and kind, and beautiful. Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He kisses your hair, wrapping his body around you — essentially hugging you from behind — as his high descends down towards the baseline again, and you get pulled down to the blanket with him — both of you cuddled up on your sides.
You let him stay inside of you as you lay together, catching your breath and kissing as his cock weakly spurts the last of his seed in you. Eventually, you find yourself glancing at the clock on the wall, lazily tracing little figure-eights on Sukuna’s arm as you count the arms to read the time. “Hey,” you whisper, looking over your shoulder at Sukuna. The alpha’s eyes are shut, though you can tell he’s still awake. His cock is half-hard inside of you, twitching as if the length could be enticed into another round.
“Yes?” he says, smirking as he curls up closer to you, kissing you deeply.
You find yourself smiling against his lips as he pushes your hair out of your face, dotting your cheeks and your nose and your eyes with little pecks as well. “Sukuna, we gotta go.”
His eyebrows furrow, looking down at you like you’d grown a second set of eyes. “Rushing out on me already baby?" he teases, pouting his lip dramatically like you'd truly hurt the alpha's feelings. "Damn. Here I was thinking we’d go have a nice dinner, maybe even get a dessert, but you’re already doing the morning after dash... while we’re still on the night of! You wound me,” he says, putting his hand over his heart as if it will alleviate the pain, scrunching his face like you’d kicked a puppy in his presence.
You roll your eyes, kissing him again through your little laughs. “No, dumbass. It’s already after 9:00. Yuki, or Todo — depending on how their shift switch went — will be doing rounds in a bit. I’d rather not have them see my tits or their boss’s dick. I think they’d have a hard time respecting either of us after that.”
He chuckles, removing himself from your body to sit up on the blanket, extending his hand to pull you up with him. “Oh, that. You’re right, maybe we should head out of here. What about your stuff?” he asks, motioning towards your desk.
You giggle, getting up with a wobble in your step as you approach the desk, removing each drawer and dumping the remaining contents into the moving box you’d left on the already cleared surface, putting a haphazard layer of tape over the top. “There, done,” you grin, sliding your discarded clothing back on as you move around the room. “All my other stuff is in the conference room for the movers to grab in the morning and I’m sure they have their own stuff to move the couch. I’m all set.”
The alpha nods, siding on his own clothes and grabbing one more box — the last, actually — from the floor by the door, using it to quickly pack all of your couch accessories for you as you hop on top of your desk.
He approaches you, slotting himself between your dangling legs, kissing you once more — softer, slower — before Sukuna pulls away, grabbing your hands in his own and bringing them up to his chest. “One chapter closed. On to the next one, huh?” he says, glancing sideways to motion at the room.
You know he means more than just the room — it’s the job. It’s your entire life under him in your career coming to an end, but you’re on to bigger and better, hopefully equally as fulfilling, things. With new friendships, and a new role for Ryomen in your life all leading you into the next portion of your adulthood.
“You know something I’d love to write into this next chapter for myself?” you say, wrapping your arms around the alpha’s shoulder, scenting him as you rest your chin against his chest.
He looks down at you with those soft persian colored eyes, wrapping his arms around you to keep you close. “What’s that?”
“I’d love to go to dinner, if you were being serious. Just us two — getting to know each other better, “learning each other” as you put it, sounds like fun. I —”
“Think this could be something good?” he says, flashing his pretty white teeth at you as you smile, nodding your head in agreement before pulling him down to kiss him again, this time with more heat.
You feel his cock harden to fullness against your inner thigh, and a small moan escapes your lips as you lower your hand to palm the length. The noise of the elevator dinging draws you both out of your little bubble, making both of you turn towards the door, then each other with a look of humored panic on your faces.
“How about we decide on that restaurant in the car?” he suggests, loosening his grip on your hips.
You hum, grabbing his waistband and pulling his crotch against yours before the alpha can move away from you. “Maybe we stop by your place first and finish this, then we go to dinner?” you tease, your voice and scent dripping with arousal again at the sight of his cock.
The elevator dings again, this time emitting a longer chime that means it’s stopped on your floor. He grins, kissing you deeply before lifting you off of the desk, grabbing the moving boxes for you, and sliding them into the conference room housing your other things just outside the door.
“Ready when you are bunny,” he says, grabbing your hand as you walk out of the office together, your gift box and your bag the only things you’re carrying.
You linger in the doorway for a moment, looking over the interior before you turn to Sukuna, a sad smile on your lips. You sigh, sitting down your bag and dropping his hand to open the gift box, taking out the tequila bottle and accompanying shot glasses to pour a shot for both of you.
Sukuna takes a glass from you, helping you balance the large alcohol bottle by holding up the bottom end as you top off the drinks.
“Okay,” you sigh, thinking over your words for a moment before deciding. “To new beginnings, and the start of something great,” you grin, tapping your glass against the alpha’s when he agrees, knocking back the smooth shot of liquor with ease.
“To new beginnings, and earning your love.”
thank you for reading! if you'd also like a piece commissioned, head over to my ko-fi to check out my deals & commission terms ₍₍ ◝(●˙꒳˙●)◜ ₎₎ crossposted on ao3: here || taglist request || network tags: @anime-central @cursedarchiveblog @hanayanetwork
NANAMI would be exasperated at you for playing such a childish game, but he wouldn't allow you to fall. To be honest you'd probably have to surprise him for him to play along—if you tried to discuss it with him beforehand he'd just completely shut down the idea.
MAKI would be confused as to why you want her to catch you for fun. It just seems like an unnecessary risk to take, trusting someone else to catch you from behind. Still, she would catch you without complaints, though she'd probably berate you for surprising her if you hadn't told her before letting go.
INUMAKI would turn right around and fall into your arms, giving you a taste of your own medicine. You would have just gotten up, laughing your head off, before he yelled "sujiko" and had launched himself into your own arms. The two of you would probably had fallen under your combined force and end up in a tangle of arms, legs and giggles.
MEGUMI would catch you but almost immediately after drop you. In his words, "you're safe now, so no point keeping ahold of you," which could be... frustrating if you're looking for physical affection. If you want this boy to actually hold you, you're going to have to give it to him straight. If you're not, it just becomes an inside joke that he's embarrassed about for years to come!
GOJO would act like he wasn't going to catch you then stop you from falling at the last moment. A little bit of harmless fun, as he says, even though you think that your stomach was about to fall out of your body. He would raucously laugh at your pissed off expression than just walk away, leaving you to chase after him, yelling.
AO3 POST FROM OUR LOVELY MEMBER @agnesclementineblog
THREE IS NOT A CROWD
Rating: Explicit
Archive warning: No archive warning apply
Category: M/M/M
Pairing: Nanami Kento/Satoru Gojo/Suguru Geto
Summary: —
Gojo’s hand creeps up to the collar of his shirt and his fingers start drumming a beat on his collarbone as Gojo asks, “Aren’t you curious?”
Nanami bats his hand away, finally pushes him all the way off, and says, “No.” He’s been saying it a lot more since meeting Gojo.
Characteristically, Gojo ignores him and says, “Of course, you are! Silly question! Anyway, be my fake boyfriend for the end-of-semester party.”
Nanami pauses with his hand poised above the paper, with whatever he’s been meaning to write down vanishing from his mind along with the hopes of finishing this assignment on time.
AKA Nanami is pining for one (1) idiot and ends up with two :D
WARNINGS true form sukuna, so monsterfucking, oral (f rec), fingering, size kink (kind of), brief anal play (no penetration), reader has body hair. reader has no pronouns.
MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.
+
"Tapping out so soon, little lamb?" Sukuna teases, allowing you a moment of respite.
He settles you on the firm plane of his abdomen where the heat of something wicked, something wondrous, licks at your lower back, eager for another taste of you. You try to catch your breath, but his kindness doesn't last long. His stomach tenses and you feel the muscles beneath you shift, lines growing taut as he pushes your hips down, grinding your aching body against his hardened one.
"Wait," you gasp, digging your nails into the tattoos across his chest. "Wait, please. I can't."
"Oh?" He raises a brow, head tilting slightly to the right as he appraises you. "I’ve yet to touch you properly, and you’re already falling asleep on me?"
Your eyes narrow in a glare, fleeting and half-hearted at best with how you slump onto him right after.
He chuckles, low and earthy, and you feel it rumble through your own body. As two hands rub circles over your hip bones, another strokes over the top of your head, sharp nails turning soft as a feather as they glide over your scalp. His last hand runs down the ridges of your spine in gentle motions, sure to leave faint lines behind as a reminder of his affection.
"Here I thought you were prepared to go all night for me," he sighs, warming the top of your head with his soft exhale. His hand trails down the side of your face, fingertips brushing your chin as he tilts your head to his own. "You'll give me one more, won't you?"
A part of you wants to say no. It wants to stay just like this and fall asleep in his arms; it wants to fade away to the sounds of his quiet humming and his nails grazing along your skin.
A bigger part of you can't stop itself from focusing on his lower hands — the ones that are snaking their way down from your waist, over the curve of your ass, and to your thighs that still ache at the slightest movement. You can't deny the desire that still simmers inside you, that comes to boil when his hand returns to your slick sex, that darkens your eyes when you catch sight of his dastardly canines.
"There we are," he coos, using his upper two hands to lift you up by your shoulders. The muscles in your thighs twitch and you hold back a wince, too delighted by his sweet approval to worry over the strain. "There's my sweet pet. Always so good for me, aren’t you?"
His eyes roam over your bare body, adoring the way you quiver in his hold as he guides you backwards. "Easy now," he murmurs once you're hovering over where he wants you most. "I'll be gentle, my love, I swear."
The flash of a smirk and past experiences have you casting doubt on his words already. Anticipation flutters in your core the longer he keeps you suspended, mere inches above a part of him so unheard of, so monstrous and dizzying; unholy it may be, the end of the night will have you singing hymns and bowing for more.
He's scorching at first touch. A heated sigh ignites the wetness clinging to your folds until your entire body is set alight by a single stroke.
Your throne, he had declared it to be, the first time he bared himself for you. Your thighs burn as he holds you above your rightful seat, unable to move away when that slick muscle swipes along your sex; it's obscene and lewd, the wet schlick that follows each lap of his tongue, the way his more-human side delights in the depravity of his darker counterpart.
You fall forwards onto him, and he keeps your lower body raised with that unrivalled strength corded in his tendons, ingrained into every inch of his staunch body. Nails like knives prick his chest, drawing blood and throaty groans from him as they bury themselves in his flesh. He doesn't care for the crimson tainting his skin, too enamoured by the sheen coating the hair on your sex, by the sweat and the sweetness that drips into his waiting mouth.
"Oh, god," you sob, dropping your head just as he spreads your thighs apart some more. "Ah, ah, please— too much. Slow, slow down."
You’re so vulnerable.
Through half-lidded eyes, you can see exactly how exposed you are: the veins on his hands are prominent as he holds you above him, pushing your legs further so that devilish tongue of his has more space to wander, to consume. Thick, stringy lines of spit hang between the lips on his stomach and your sodden folds; your inner thighs are glazed and gleaming with his saliva as he noisily licks and nips his way from one leg to the other.
He shushes you quietly, smiling as your breath hitches in your throat when he finally drops you with a muted thud.
"Be patient, won't you?" he murmurs. "Let me take care of you."
You're shaking your head rapidly, vibrating atop him as his tongue unravels and slides along the length of your slit. Two hands grip your behind and, just as you feel them spread your cheeks, the wet muscle follows along messily. If it wasn't for his tight hold, you'd recoil away, but he keeps you still, unmoving as he slurps your trickling cum and circles your rim.
"I can feel your heart racing," he chuckles, withdrawing his tongue and replacing it with a finger. He laps all over you without reprieve — going so far as to slither between your flushed bodies, savouring the sweat and cum that dampens your pubic hair before making his way back to your folds. And he pokes at your puckered entrance, swirling the abundance of slick and spit that pours out of you so wet clicks sound in the pauses between your cries. You don’t know what to focus on: the prodding of his finger, the sweep of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth. "It excites you that much — when I touch you here?” The slightest pressure has you freezing on top of him. Your fingers drill into the thick of his shoulders, the swell of them strong as bark, and just as rough, too. He’s yet to push any further, content with simply teasing around the hole, drawing circle after circle. “Another time, perhaps,” he utters just before his hand retreats to the curve of your ass, groping the supple flesh.
The coil in your stomach winds tighter as the seconds pass. It twines to the point of a pinch, needle-sharp — painful, almost, if it wasn’t allayed by warm hands and a murmured praise.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asks. His hands brush along your sides, guiding your body in-sync with the swivel and smack of the tongue that protrudes from his stomach. “Let me see you fall apart, let me feel it. Cum for me, pretty thing. Let go, hm?Let it all go for me.”
His mouth works on your sex with an untamed fervour: his teeth, edged and devilish, graze your pulsing clit, applying the slightest force in the form of a bite, and it has you gushing on him; his tastebuds bathe in the steady stream of your essence, inching deeper into your sex with an avid greed for more. Your pussy stretches around him, his tongue flexing with a power that reminds you of how otherworldly the man beneath you is. All you can do is bend to his will. You’re a puppet beneath its master’s control — only ever reacting to his demands, contorting your body to the arc of his palms, helpless to the way he shapes the slant of his tongue on your silken walls.
You near your breaking point when he flicks his tongue over your clit, lapping with a renewed vigour as his fingers sink into you. He curls and sucks and squeezes too many different parts of you, and he doesn’t stop. He curls and sucks and squeezes until you fall apart with a cry of his name, teeth cutting into his shoulder, thighs twitching and tensing around his body. He curls and sucks and squeezes as you tremble in his arms, soaking his sun-kissed skin in a smeary cream.
“There we are,” he cheers. If your eyes weren’t screwed shut, you’d wither beneath his radiant grin. “Don’t hold back, little morsel, I want to taste all of you. Give it all to me.”
You’re deaf to the melody of your debasement. The wet crook of his fingers as they slip out of you is silenced by your tinny, half-choked whine. The drawn-out slurp of his tongue is lewd, only made more obscene when it’s followed by a grateful smack of his lips.
“Too— Too much,” you sob, saliva trickling down the corner of your mouth. It mixes with the blood that seeps from his shoulder, canines puncturing too deep. He won’t let that go without comment, a wolf-like nip from his precious little lamb — he might even forgo healing it, let it scar and memorialise his weakness for you. “No more. Please, no more, I can’t—”
“Shh, no more,” he promises, resting one hand on the back of your head. He calms you down easily, tongue sliding back into his mouth as his hands soothe you with a slow massage. He’s hot as a bonfire beneath you, tamed and welcome like a fireplace that warms your very core. “There, there. Be still, my beating heart.”
Your voice sounds between staggered breaths, quiet, hoarse from the strain. “Never again. That was so... I don’t think I’ll ever walk again.”
He smiles, bearing the pain of your wince as he shifts you upwards, enough so for him to press a kiss to the crown of your head.
“Worry not, my love,” he murmurs. “No such place exists where I won’t carry you to.”
notes @mxgenderbender..... i have zero self-control when it comes to this man. @cursedarchiveblog @http-404-error-unknown
WARNINGS oral (m rec), handjobs, edging.
MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.
+
"Fuck. Stop— Stop doing that."
The words spill from his lips in between heavy gasps, hanging in the heady air around you. His head is tilted back and, when you peer up at him through hazy eyes, you stare too long at the clench of his teeth, the way it pronounces the veins pulsing in his neck, and the sweat that rolls down it in beads.
"What was that?" you ask, blinking slowly as you watch him. Low, amber light catches on the sharp angle of his jaw, and he curses your name through gritted teeth when you kiss the very tip of his cock. "You want me to stop?"
You move away and he's just as quick to snap his head to you, midnight blue swallowed whole by the black of night in his irises. "No—" you see his fists clench around the bed sheets, knuckles white with impatience, impulsion "—stop, stop pulling away."
Your hands drift down from his thighs as you lean further away; you smile when you ghost over the fine hairs on his calf, grazing your nails along the skin light enough to tease, to have his toes curling into the carpet around you.
"I don't know what you're talking about, baby," you say, pushing his knees apart and moving closer once more. You dip down to the right, dragging your lips across the inside of his thighs, already damp from earlier attention. He hisses when your hand slides up his other leg, pressing down on the lovebites littering his skin as it makes its way to his cock. He's sensitive like this. The quickest stroke of your thumb over his weeping slit has him gasping for breath; the smallest nibble to his thigh has him whimpering, muscles quivering beneath your incisors. "I'm right here, aren't I?"
"Don't, don't do that—" his voice cracks on the last word and his knee knocks into your shoulder right when you squeeze his length "—again."
You hum into the crease of his leg, the smell of sweat and cum so abundant now that his sex is centimetres away from your face. He's so sensitive like this. You look up at him, and he's already staring you down, half-lidded eyes glazed over with a heady wish to paint over the smug quirk of your lips.
"You're so—" one squeeze of his balls has his words tapering off into a choked moan. When your lips replace your hand, his eyes roll back and his hips stutter off the bed. "Oh, fuck, fuck, yeah. Just— Just like that."
It's a little awkward working over his sac, tongue peeking out to lick over it before sucking what you can into your mouth. It's worth all the effort when you hear his cries. Groans and raspy breaths petering into drawn-out whines when you pull away with a wet pop to lap your way up his length.
His head is thrown back again. Red dusts across his neck in a sultry flourish, and you eye the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows his whimpers. You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, kitten-licking the pearls that bead there, humming around the flushed head until one hand moves to cover his mouth.
A displeased sound leaves you, more muffled than his own moans that are keening higher and higher as you continue mouthing at his aching sex. You take him in a little further, just enough to graze your teeth on the underside of his shaft, and his hand isn't enough to muzzle the lengthy wail that tears out of him. A bitter tang bursts in your mouth, a small spurt of precum that you swallow mindlessly before pulling off of him again.
An aggravated huff leaves him, something throaty and raw and pained; it's a mutual frustration, his wound bleeding into your open mouth.
"Fucking stop," he whines. It's hard to take his furrowed brows and glare seriously when there are tears tracking his face, when his chest is rising and falling too quickly to express anything but heated yearning. "Please, I—"
"Wanna hear you," you say, lightly tracing over a vein that pulses on his length. "Let me hear you, yeah?"
"Yeah, okay," he pants, and his hand falls from his ungraciously, slapping the top of your head and urging you back onto his length. "Okay, okay— fuck, I'm so close."
"So needy," you murmur before wrapping your hand around the base of his cock to guide him back into your mouth. His tip pokes the inside of your cheek, lewd squelches gushing from your mouth as you lavish him in your saliva.
His fingers pull at your roots. There's a dampness covering them and, when you look up at him, you understand why. His lips are bitten raw, swollen, and you're sure that there's blood smeared across the rosy skin. The best part is the diamond glint, the wet coating that flashes brightly under your lenses; saliva shines across the swell of his bottom lip, drool trickles down from the corner of his gaping mouth.
You hold back a taunt about his depravity.
Later tonight, you'll have a field day talking about how pleas for 'more, more, more' streamed out of his mouth like a waterfall, you'll tell him to drop the unbothered facade and remind him of how he drooled like a baby when he raises his walls higher; you'll mock how he whimpered your name and jerked his hips off the bed and cried mercy for your salvation.
You squirm on his length, slipping him into your mouth and working your hand around what hasn't fit. A steady pace is set, bobbing your head up and down, lewd noises echoing as your tongue wets the curve of his length with each pump. There's the brief sound of you gagging around his length when he hits the back of your throat, and it's always followed by his cry, a whimper of 'tight' jumping out of him.
"Fuck, I'm gonna— so, so close. I can’t— can't hold— Let me," he gasps, urging you further down his length. Your lips brush against your fingers as he slips down your throat shortly, stealing the breath from your lungs until you're winded and choking around his girth. "Let me cum, wanna cum, wanna— wanna badly— fuck, gonna cum!"
One hand tightens around his hip, nails digging into his soft skin as you take him as deep as you can manage, staving off the burn of him in your throat by digging deep enough to hurt him. He doesn't seem to care, focused on the 'fuck, fuck, fucking tight' squeeze of your mouth and the way you fondle his balls just to have something to hold.
"Baby, baby, please," he begs, and you can feel the tremors running through his body every time his hands twitch on your head, every time his knee knocks into your body as he bounces his leg. "Don't stop, don't, don't, don't— I'm gonna, gonna cum, don't— please—!"
A guttural scream leaves him when you break away.
It's carnal and brutish, sure to rip right through his vocal chords with how anguished and miserable and desperate he is to be heard. He chases after the feeling of his high, but you counter each of his moves. His hands are batted away from his length. You lean further away so there's nothing for him to rock against. His eyes are closed and crystals spill from the corners as he growls curses at you.
"Was fucking— close, so close, fuck, please," he whines, falling back onto the bed with a heavy thud. Between choked wheezes, you catch his small 'please's, breathy calls of your names, and the rustle of bed sheets as he humps the air, hips stuttering helplessly in want of a long-gone climax. "No, no, no. Fuck, fuck, please!"
"Shh, it's okay," you coo, feeling the slightest bit guilty when his voice cracks on another 'no, please'. The soothing circles you rub on his thighs do little to quell his sobs; the messy sounds of him sniffling tugging at your heartstrings as you watch him rub his eyes. "You're okay."
When one hand trails up to his weeping cock, he winces. "No more, I can't—"
He's hot in the palm of your hand, body spasming in desire despite his slurred words.
"Can't leave you like this," you say, stroking him slowly as blubbers fall from his lips. He shakes his head, but his hips betray him, pathetically jolting up in your grasp. "You wanna cum, don't you?"
His mood perks up instantly, and he's nodding his head and humming in response.
"Let me hear you say it," you urge.
He sucks in a deep breath, holding himself up on shaky elbows just to look right at you. He looks unfairly pretty like this: putty in your hands, tears streaming down his face, lips wobbling as he finally says, "Please— Make me cum, please. Want it so bad."
You wonder what will happen if you deny him one more time.
notes big thank you to @kemakoshume for beta-reading this mess! <3 @http-404-error-unknown
WARNINGS fingering, dubcon somnophilia (consensual in my head, but it's not explicitly given here). reader has no pronouns.
MINORS, AGELESS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.
+
You're not sure how long it's been since Touji bid you good night. The very passage of time has melded into one roundabout series: closing your eyes, lying on your side, praying you fall asleep, and then opening your eyes when your plea inevitably falls on deaf ears.
Your right side has gone numb from all the weight on it. From your attempts at staying stock-still in hopes that that will make sleep come to you more easily somehow. It doesn't — hasn't for the past half hour if you were to make a guess. You fall on your back with a heavy sigh. Is it too childish to count sheep?
"Quit moving," Touji grumbles, eyes still closed as he breathes evenly. "Shaking the whole bed."
"I can't sleep," you whine quietly, shifting back onto your numb arm so you can look at him.
He looks peaceful. Hard lines softened and squished against the memory foam pillow beneath his cheek, lips parted a little vulnerably to break that stoic mask of his; it's a startling contrast to the man he'll become when the sun rises.
He doesn't flinch anymore when you trace over the scar on his lip. Instead, he sighs. "I can see that."
"So help me." There's silence for a moment before you tack on, "Please? I'll make it up to you, promise."
He huffs.
"Turn around."
You do as he says and it's not a moment later that you feel his chest against your back, firm muscles and an all-encompassing warmth surrounding you. His breath fans across your neck, tickling the skin as he brushes chapped lips over you in a gentle kiss. "You're a piece of work, you know?"
You hum in agreement, closing your eyes and basking in his embrace. It's nice. The weight of his arm feels good around you, and the way his hand splays across your stomach to hold your body against his burns through your clothes, heating you up in all the best ways. It's amazing, if not a little scary — how comfortable you can be around someone so dangerous, how just being in his arms makes you forget about all your worries.
Most of them, anyway.
You stay like that for a few minutes, trying your best to just sink into his hold and drift off to sleep, but it's no use.
You sigh and call his name and he huffs like he was already expecting you to still be awake.
"Real piece of work."
"It's not my fault," you groan, yawning into your hand. It's almost laughable how your body is more than ready to fall asleep, but your mind is running a mile a minute, thinking of nothing and everything and all that rests between.
"Yeah, yeah," he utters. "Open your mouth."
Once again, you do as he says without question, just hope at the tip of your tongue that this plan of his will work. There's nothing special about the way his hand floats up your body. Two fingers slip past the seam of your lips to coat themselves in your spit. Your mouth feels a little dry, and the moment is a bit awkward since he's half asleep and still sluggish, but you make do. Saliva pools in your mouth and you lap at his fingertips until he pulls them out. His other arm weasels its way beneath your body, fingers hooking into your pajama trousers and underwear to pull them away, so his wet ones can slide in without hassle.
His fingers are coarse to the touch after a lifetime of labour, but they're heavenly on your body. It adds a certain roughness, makes every action feel a little more powerful and firm than the last, and he's nothing if not blessed with his hands and body.
He rubs slow circles over your clit, keeping your hips still with his other arm when you start squirming because of his motions. You can't help but whimper at the loss when his fingers dip down a bit to wade in your arousal, but your eyes roll back as soon as he returns. His wrist must be cramping in the tight confines, but he makes it work, fingers rolling over the bud a little more easily with your slick coating them.
"Come on, sweetheart," he drawls, voice husky with sleep. Each murmured syllable is low and rich; dark chocolate words rolling off his tongue steady like molasses, heady like the haze clouding your mind. His nose grazes along the crook of your neck to plant another dry kiss there. "Cum for me, yeah? You can do it. Nice and slow for me."
Just like he says, the build-up is nice and slow. Each circle drawn around your clit is another drop of ambrosia in the pit of your arousal, and it feels so good — so, so good — when he shifts his fingers a little to the right to press from a new angle and stars burst behind your eyelids. A broken whine escapes you as he fixates on that sensitive spot, breath tightening with a mewled ah, there, there, there and it isn't much longer that your release washes over you in calm, lulling waves; it's more akin to pouring warm honey than tides crashing at the shore, the slow, budding feeling of drowsiness making you focus solely on his fingers as he eases you down from your high.
Your mind feels light as a feather now, eyes staying closed as you gradually catch your breath. Your body an anchor, sinking into the clutches of sleep that you'd been aching the entire night for.
You try to call Touji, murmur a quick Love you, or even a thank you — you're not even sure which one to settle on, too tired to express your gratitude; your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and you're not sure if the words come out slurred, if at all. You'll thank him properly in the morning if he's still here.
"You sleeping?" he asks, and you hum tiredly, shifting back into his warmth when he pulls his hand from your trousers. "Mm, fuck, wait."
You hum again, and he presses his hips closer so you can feel the firmness of his length through your clothes.
"Got me all—" he pauses to muffle a yawn into your shoulder before continuing "—all worked up."
Another hum. You feel him move around a little, hear the ruffle of bed sheets and his clothes before you feel his cock, a little heavier, a lot hotter poking against your lower back. You can't bring yourself to move when he pushes your trousers down, too. They don't go all the way, just far enough so that he can nudge his cock in between your thighs.
"Fuck," he groans when you squeeze your legs around him. Your body feels like lead, heavy and unmoving, and he's graphite, dragging his hips back and forth to enjoy the friction of your body around his cock. "So fucking good."
Your arousal trickles out of you as he pushes his length along your entrance, wetting the flushed skin of his cock before he lifts your leg atop his to create some space. His movements are lethargic, his mind wanting to slumber, his body craving your tight warmth, and he can't satisfy the former without obeying the latter.
He's not sure if you're even still awake, but you do let out a low groan when he pushes his cock into your sex. It's tight — you'll probably wake up to the consequence of little prep and be less than pleased, but he's too busy relishing the clench and heat around his length to care for that.
He savours the yearning hold of your walls when he pulls back slowly, and enjoys the quiet pap of his balls on the curve of your ass when he pushes back in. He's using up the final dredges of his stamina. There's another thrust, then he stays inside and rolls his hips against you, once, twice, just to see if you tighten around him. Then he thrusts again — or, he tries to. He's just so tired, though, and his movements feel lifeless, like he's nudging you with the tip of his cock and your body barely responds to his half-hearted efforts.
It isn't long before he's weakly spurting his cum into you. He's almost glad that you're too tired to comment — or too busy sleeping, he's still not sure — because he knows you would have made some snarky remark about him not lasting long. He can't bring himself to care about it when his cock softens inside you and the energy in his body completely depletes. He feels like a shell of a man yet he's never been fuller, left satiated but hollow from the fatigue. He hisses when you shift a little, your leg falling off of his, making you tighter around his length.
Maybe in the morning he'll treat you a little better: when the sun rises, he'll have you falling apart on his cock — twice, if you're not too sore, if you ask sweetly and thank him for doing this for you. Or maybe he'll realise he shouldn't have ever put your wants ahead of his own; he'll slip out of your warmth and wonder when staying the night even became the norm for him. For now, though, he presses a final kiss to your shoulder and falls asleep to the thought of getting used to this.
~ [for the "The More The Merrier" collab by the amazing, talented, wonderful @sinnerofthewalls] ~
a/n; no thoughts, 2:30 am, head empty. itafushi brainrot in full effect. speedran and wrote this all in one go [2.7k words]— written to this song ~
warnings/info: fem!reader (coded physically to be black but idc what you imagine, just don't be a dick about it), dwugs, sex on the drugs, safe drug-use etiquette, threesome, oral, p in v sex. boys kissin boys, friends being pals (basically a budding poly relationship sorta thing). not dc IMO but im adding my dc tag too anyway —tags: @anime-central @cursedarchiveblog— don't do drugs, this is an unrealistic work of fiction lmao. drugs are not worth the irl drama or turmoil ~
Currently having nonstop thoughts about having a threesome with Megumi and Yuuji while you’re all hyped up on cocaine.
After a long night out partying, you can't help but feel relief once you stumble into your shared apartment with your best friends, letting them follow you into your bedroom despite both of them also having rooms in your place. You can't even make it to the bed, instead choosing to fall straight onto your bedroom floor with the two handsome men alongside you.
Megumi would be saying something, griping about how his head is swimming a bit still because he might have drunk just a touch too much, while Yuuji would be rolling around, threading his fingers through the shaggy material of your large area rug, as bouncy and cheerful as ever.
You don't know why you said yes tonight when a girl in the nightclub toilets offered you a little dime-sized baggie, saying that she'd had way too much already, but you did. The contents were smooth and white and enticing enough to make your mouth drip wet with saliva at the sight. She'd gifted you pure ecstasy in a plastic pouch. What kind of person would you be if you said no?
The guys both blink at you like you had spontaneously grown a third head when you crack open your phone case, fishing out the little baggie from between the case and your cell.
You look between the two of them without explanation, reaching over Yuuji to grab your laptop from your nightstand that he's leaning against. You fish a credit card from the phone case wallet you took with you on nights like this where you didn't want to carry a purse, and you begin to break up the already pretty smooth powder into multiple lines.
"Is that what I think it is?” Megumi finally says, breaking the silence hanging over the room.
"If cocaine is what you think it is then, yeah. I'm pretty sure it's what you think it is," Yuuji replied back, scooting closer to you to watch what you're doing from up close.
You lean over him again, reaching into the deep recesses of your middle drawer to get your mini testing kit for the drug, making quick work of mixing a tiny section of the powder with the testing solution to make sure it is what the girl told you it was.
You always said you never really wanting to die alone if you could help it, but dying of a preventable overdose in your college apartment, and bringing your two best friends down with you too? Yeah, no. That wasn't a plan you had in mind.
So when the little liquid turns green and only green, matching the guide that directed you on what drugs turn the solution which color, you know you're in the clear.
"It's good," you announce, breaking the remaining powder down into lines.
The two boys look over at each other then at you, when suddenly Yuuji reaches down into his pocket, fishing out a dollar and handing it over to you.
"Thank you baby. Don't worry, you two don't have to if you don't want to. More for me," is all you say before dipping down to sniff up the white powder off the surface of your laptop case. You do so without a flinch, throwing your head back once you feel the drip begin to flow down your throat.
You see them knock their knees against each other, small smiles creeping onto their faces.
"Ah, what the hell. Worst it'll do is sober me up, best it'll do is get me high," Megumi says, plucking the rolled-up dollar from your hand so he can inhale a line for himself.
Yuuji follows suit, taking a line and a half all in one go.
You all take deep breaths, relaxing onto the carpet as you let the high creep in, since the buzz did come on quickly and rather strong.
"Oh fuck," Yuuji groans, letting his head loll back and he feels the drug begin to rush to his brain, "God that's good shit. Where'd you get this?"
You giggle, letting your eyes close as you lean back on your forearms, just... feeling it as you repeat the story back to him.
"Random bathroom girl. Too high, gave me the rest of her drugs for free. Blah blah blah."
Megumi chuckles to himself. About what, you aren't sure, and you're a little afraid to open your eyes at the moment to find out. Everything will be off-kilter and moving a bit too fast once you do, and you need one more moment of peace in the darkness behind your eyes before you subject yourself to that.
You aren't actually sure how much time passes, but you can tell the other two have grown a touch antsy with the new stimulating substance flowing through them.
You can feel a hand lightly grip the exposed skin of your thigh. Your dress is short enough that while sitting down the way you are, you're sure the two men can see the pretty cotton fabric covering the surface of your sex.
You finally let your eyes open, taking in the sight of your two besties sitting right up against each other. Their faces are only a hair length apart, their noses basically Eskimo kissing.
"Fuck, you look so pretty right now," Yuuji said, staring deeply into Megumi's eyes as his thumb began to caress the skin of your upper thigh.
It's not unexpected when they lean into each other, kissing to distract one another from the nasty nasal drip that had already passed for you. Or, they were just kissing to kiss, no distraction needed. They'd done it before. Well, kissing that is, not this specific drug. At least not to your knowledge. Other drugs though? They'd definitely done, and it had almost always ended in kisses then too.
There was something so intoxicating about watching them together. Their kisses are soft and sweet despite how hard the lines of their bodies were. Sharp jaws, firm muscles, long limbs, but still so pretty together. You can't help your gasp when the two men let their tongues loll out to tangle together among the slickness of their spit, their bite swollen lips coming together to make the most beautiful sounds.
Yuuji moans into it, rubbing his free hand up the length of Megumi's stomach, pulling at his shirt.
"Off."
He then looks over at you as Megumi undresses, pulling you up and into his lap, between them, as he envelops your lips into a flurry of kisses.
"Fucking beautiful, both of you," he says between the kisses, holding you in his lap by placing his hands underneath your ass, grabbing as much as he can manage even with his large hands.
You feel Megumi slide up behind you, putting his body flush against your back and slotting his legs between Yuuji's so you're in both of their laps now, forcing Yuuji to move his hands up to rest against your thighs. Your hair is already up and out of the way in a mess of sweat-damp curls wrapped in a loose bun, but he still grabs your hair anyway, pulling your head back and away from Yuuji so it's resting on his shoulder.
The raven-haired man captures your lips in a kiss of his own, running one of his hands up your body from your waist until his hand is cupping your braless breast through the form-fitting fabric of your nightclub dress.
Yuuji is touching you too. Kissing your wrists as he makes his way up your arm, coming up until his face is right in front of both yours and Megumi's. He puckers his lips cutely, his doe-eyes full and expectant as he leans in more until he's breathing in all of your air.
"Jesus, so fucking needy," Megumi chuckles, grabbing his friend by the nape of his neck to pull him into the kiss. You all kiss back and forth, licking into each other's mouths and peppering kisses on any skin you can reach.
Yuuji takes off his shirt as well at one point, along with his pants, leaving him exposed in his snug forest green boxer briefs. His cock is hard and hung beneath the fabric and you can't help but gulp down your own spit at the sight of it. Who gave him the right to be physically jacked, with the sweetest personality you'd ever encountered, and have a huge dick?
It wasn't fair for one human to be that perfect.
It feels nice how warm to the touch he is as he rubs his body against yours. He supports your weight in his strong arms as Megumi lifts you to shimmy off his jeans as well, along with adjusting your bodies so that Megumi's back is supported on the frame of your bed. He groans into it when Yuuji sits you down to relax into his lap again, and you begin to absentmindedly grind against his length.
"You're both so hot right now, fuck," Yuuji moaned, sliding his hands up from the bottom of your dress, pulling it up until the relatively thin fabric is bunched up around your waist.
Megumi runs his hands along the lines of your shoulders, using his thumbs to pull down the straps until the top of your dress is also wrapped around your waist, exposing your breasts.
Yuuji slides out from under your legs, sliding his body backward until he's laying down on his stomach. He fumbles around with his hands, smacking at the surface of your bed until he feels the pillows hit his palm that he was looking for. He slides one under his stomach so he can lay comfortably, while he slides the other beneath your ass where you're hanging out of Megumi's lap a little.
"Before I begin my feast, would anyone else like another line?" he says, sliding the cocaine-dusted laptop over to where you're sitting on the clean surface of your vacuum-abused bedroom rug.
He uses your card to make three more lines, smaller than the first few but still hefty in their own right. He cranes down his neck to take up a line, pinching his nostrils closed as he leans his head back once the drip starts up again.
He hands you the laptop, letting you take your own line in with ease. Megumi has his arms wrapped around your breasts, only removing one of them to lean down around your shoulder, pressing his face against your neck to take his own line. He presses his finger against the laptop cover, collecting the last few morsels of the drug. Then he pushes his finger into your mouth, dragging the digit across your gums until you can no longer feel your own teeth.
He removes his finger once he sees a smile cross your face. You can see the numbness, the tingles, the ecstasy... all of it begin to cross both of their faces again as well. Yuuji's laughing, and now so is Megumi, so of course, you start too. Everything just feels so fucking good. It's impossible not to.
"God," you moan, the dopamine firing off at insane rates in your brain, "I need you. I don't care who, I just need someone in me. Fuck, I could cum just from your fingers at this point."
You're reaching your hand up to caress the side of Megumi's face, and he kisses the back of your hand.
Yuuji grabs a water bottle from somewhere, probably your dresser, and chugs it. He swishes the water around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing, trying to get the remnants of the drug out from his mouth before he goes down on you. Numbing up your clit by accident didn't sound like a good time.
"Hold her open for me Fushiguro," Yuuji said, reaching forward to pull you down further on the pillow.
Megumi had a pillow slid behind his back as well, so it's simple when he grabs your legs, sliding his own body down just a touch so that he can hold you open for Yuuji easily.
To be frank, it's almost embarrassing how fast you're cumming once Yuuji gets his mouth on you.
You're extremely aware of Megumi's presence holding you steady, and Yuuji tearing you apart. Megumi's hands are busy tweaking your pretty pebbled nipples while his mouth sucks and licks at the sensitive skin below your ear. While Yuuji's tongue is busy licking at your cunt. He's firm and precise in where he chooses to lick at your folds. Your clit was overly sensitive in the best way with the hum of the drugs flowing through your veins, making everything more sensitive. But when he starts fucking into you with his long tongue, using his thumb to swirl across the surface of your clit? Oh, you're a fucking goner.
"Aw, Yuuji, you're making our princess squirt already. Haven't even fucked you yet and you're making such a big mess on the new rug," Megumi teased, kissing at your neck as your back arched off of the man's torso.
You could feel the flood of liquid coming from your sex when you came, and it was indeed making a mess. All over the floor, all over your thighs, and all over Yuuji's face.
It shouldn't make you smile as hard as it does when he comes up for air, his face drenched in your slick, with the goofiest smile across his face once he realizes how good he made you feel.
"I've never seen her do that before. Gotta say, I think I'm a fan," he says matter-of-factly, coming up between your legs to kiss at your lower belly.
"Fucking idiot," you giggle, smacking the top of his head softly.
You're thrown back into the deliriousness of pleasure when Megumi snakes a hand up your body, coming up to wrap his hand firmly around your throat.
"Don't get too relaxed baby girl. We have so much more to do."
So, yeah, you end up fucking like little rabbits the rest of the night, even once the coke has eventually started to wear off.
The ecstasy surged through every neuron firing off in your brain, down through all the nerves in your body for the first two or so rounds that you had sex. Megumi fucked into you at a punishing pace as Yuuji lets his cock slide along your folds. He rubbed up against you that way until you came for them again, clenching around Megumi so well that he came inside you, filling you to the brim with his cum.
In the next round, Yuuji takes you from behind, fucking you like you were molded for his cock while Megumi lets you lean into him for support, kissing you as you took Yuuji's dick until you came around him as well. He was too big and his dick curved just the right way and you can't help it when you end up crying, yelling out in ecstasy as they both work in tandem to rip the third orgasm from you that night.
The last two rounds are all about you. How many times they can make you cum? Who can give you the strongest orgasm? All the while, the two boys are also touching each other. Kissing and caressing and milking each other for orgasms as well when their refractory periods are over and they're ready to go again.
It feels like a lifetime has passed when you see the faint beginnings of overcast daylight breaking through your windows. You're finally all tucked into bed. Begrudgingly clean since Megumi had forced you all up and into the shower for a lazy cleaning after all the excitement. Though, you can't complain too much. Not when you got to be cleaned and kissed and adorned by the two men as they showered you, and not when you got to watch as they kissed and took care of each other.
The comedown would be a bitch to deal with the next day. You can feel it coming on already. The frazzling in your nerves, the fog coming in to muddle your brain and make you feel as grey as the incoming cloudy sky, but that's okay. The morning would come with take-out breakfast and cuddles and comforting kisses. How could you not see the bright side in that?
sooooo... what'd you think? lmk lmao. when i say i speedran this shit i mean i just finished writing and crossposting this and it's only 4:30 am. it was supposed to be a drabble but come on... my drabbles lately are never drabbles. oh but speaking of crossposting, this is also posted on ao3: here. i crosspost just in case something happens to this acct so go bookmark it if you want it just in case || taglist request || ~
