you wake up drenched in sweat. your chest heaving, your eyes bloodshot while you try to remember what got you in such a frenzy in the first place. you couldn’t feel your limbs, the walls closing in on you while your mind seemed to spiral over what seemed to be nothing.
you hated when this happened. always running away and hiding in your room curled up in on yourself until the feeling disappeared. rotting until you found the next best distraction to just. run away from it all.
you found yourself seated on your kitchen counter, gasping for air, praying to god sukuna, or worse—yuji didn’t find you.
but alas, your luck only lasted so long, sukuna making way from the room, his eyes still full of sleep before he found you in the dim lights.
“baby, what’s wrong?”
“it’s nothing, kuna, go to bed before yuji wakes u-up.”
you tried to hold back your sobs, forcing them back into your throat.
“too late the brat was awake the second you got out of bed.”
he didn’t ask questions, just silently wrapped his arms around you while you hiccuped into him, your body still shaking from whatever it was that seemed to have awoken you.
yuji made his way to the two of you, his tiny arms tugging at the hem of your pants.
“are you okay auntie.” he squeaked out, while you picked him up, cradling him against your chest.
“wass it a scary dream? i have those too!!” he yelped trying his hardest to make you feel better his tiny arms trying their best to wipe away your tears while sukuna had almost a death grip on your waist, slowly tracing circles on your skin until your breath evened out.
“it was, yuji.”
“i’ll protect you!!” is all he screamed before hugging you by the neck while you softly giggled against him.
“you see that? you aren’t really alone anymore, doll.”
“y-yeah. i guess so, huh?”
your heart started to beat a steady rhythm again, drowned with overwhelming amounts of affection by two of the strangest pink haired men. but gods you loved them to death.
if u saw me post this b4 no u didnt
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
The promised Christmas audio that I may or may not have forgotten to do 😭But its here now with some desperate cries for mommy and pleases! Hope yall enjoy ;3
As always yall can ask me if you would like to request something in one of the audios (certain pet names, more speaking, specific sounds etc.) surprised no ones done this yet...
satoru & suguru compete over who can make you cum harder! ꒰♡
cws; cunnilingus, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstim, creampie, implied aftercare, unestablished relationship, they basically take turns on you until you’re limp …
“nghhmm—please, s’too much-” you whine helplessly, your body limp and trembling against the soaked sheets as suguru coaxes yet another orgasm out of you.
this all started with some stupid bet between both men on who could make you cum harder. assholes. you fear this ends with you unable to walk for several days weeks.
you’ve lost count on how many times they’ve made you cum, how many times you’ve screamed their names — your poor, overstimulated cunt serving as a harsh reminder of their little competition.
“that’s it, pretty girl, come on my tongue again— you can do it,” suguru praises against your pussy, his tongue narrowing and flicking against your sensitive clit; thick fingers curling deep inside of your sopping hole.
satoru stands by eagerly, palming his throbbing cock, becoming more impatient by the second. “cmon baby, give him one more so i can have my turn again, yeah? you know you like it better when it’s my turn.”
if you had any coherent thoughts left in your brain, you’d wonder how they’re both still going, or at this point, how you’re even still functioning.
suguru continues to lap at your puffy folds, sucking your clit into his mouth exttraaa, hard just to make you squeal. he curls his fingers upwards just a tad more, replacing his tongue with his fingers, rubbing your clit side to side in rapid motions.
you let out a sharp gasp, an unfamiliar sensation taking over. you grip suguru’s hair tighter, thighs shaking desperately, “sugu—can’t, mnnn—feels like i’m gonna-”
“just let it happen, sweet girl, you can do it” he coos, kissing the insides of your thighs in encouragement until clear fluid spurts out of your pussy, drenching both suguru’s face and the already ruined sheets below you.
suguru hums in satisfaction, licking a long stripe up your slit, tasting every drop. “that’s my good girl, such a shame satoru can’t make you squirt like that, hm?” he teases, feeling a large hand grip his shoulder.
“move. my turn," satoru demands, gripping your ankles and pulling you towards the edge of the bed, settling between your thighs. “p-please, toru’—m’tired” you babble, feeling him rub his flushed, leaky tip against your folds.
his hair was dishevelled, white strands sticking to his forehead as he eases his tip inside you, strong hands gripping your thighs. “one more, princess—fuck. gonna make you squirt harder than he did.”
you whine as satoru pushes further in, setting a fast, brutal pace, angling his cock upwards to rub against your g-spot; thumb moving to circle your swollen nub as he drives into you with a point to prove.
suguru perches on the bed beside you, stroking your damp hair, whispering sweet praise. your half-lidded eyes flick between him and satoru, tears of pleasure and overstimulation steaming down your cheeks.
satoru grabs you by the back of your knees, pushing them back, almost folding you in half. “you like it better when i fuck you, huh? gonna make you squirt all over my cock- hah- harder than he did,” satoru pants, competitive as always, feeling your pussy flutter and clench around him.
“ahhh!—toru’—please,” you mewl, thighs beginning to tremble again.
suguru cups your cheek tenderly. "eyes on me, that’s my good girl — look at the man you know makes you come harder,” he purrs, wiping a stray tear from your face.
this only encourages satoru, making him thrust into you faster, meaner. he leans in, forcing himself even deeper, grabbing your face so you’re looking at him instead. he presses his sweat-slicked forehead against yours, his other hand still between your thighs, rubbing your clit side to side.
“don’t listen to him, look at me, princess, fuck—gonna make this pretty pussy squirt all over me,” he groans, hearing suguru scoff in response.
your whole body burns and aches, another orgasm tearing through you, your mouth hanging wide open as you gush all over satoru’s dick. “o-oh my- aahh! toru!” you cry out, fingernails digging into his biceps, body seizing as you drench the sheets again.
satoru flashes you a feral smile, refusing to stop until he’d fucked every last drop out of you, “shiiiitt, knew you could do it for me. messy girl.”
satoru’s thrusts become short and sharp, cock twitching as he pumps his cum deep inside of you. “ah! — shit, gonna fill you up-” he whines, flooding you with hot cum, cum he’d been saving up for you for hours.
when he eventually pulls out, both men stand in front of you, admiring the mess they’d made of you, your abused hole leaking satoru’s cum, thighs sticky and red. your chest heaves as you catch your breath again, eyes finally shutting as you lay boneless on the bed.
“such a pretty mess,” suguru purrs, watching the way your cunt throbs and twitches, finally empty and clenching around nothing.
"so, who won?” satoru smirks, tapping your knee gently, receiving no response other than a broken whimper.
they turn to look at each other, then back at you. “think we broke her,” satoru says, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
“well, then i suppose we’ll never know who won,” suguru hums, scooping you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bathroom, satoru following behind to help clean you up.
"come on, sweetheart. we’ll take care of you now. you did so well," suguru praises, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.
"i won, by the way. didn’t i princess,” satoru grins, following close behind, still completely bare.
a/n; reworked this a lil and decided to repost !! <3
“Ay, ay, ay, he so deep in that pussy it’s like he lookin for somethin’ ”
Toji discovers that you haven’t found your G-spot yet and decides to lend a hand. (wc: 3.9k.)
A.N: This is based off Megans song Lover Girl if you couldn’t tell👀
A.N: I’ve been hesitant to post this one because, the more I read it, the worse it looks. Oh well! I hope you guys like it!! Also my requests are open so feel free to drop some ideas! I’m happy to do it. OKOK FR GO READ THIS!!!
Content & Warnings: explicit sexual content :: first time together :: age gap bc i love me an older man :: oral sex (f. receiving) :: vaginal penetration :: multiple orgasms and squirting :: praise and degradation :: various positions :: anal play (finger) :: creampie :: graphic descriptions :: cervix fucking :: headlock position :: leg-locking :: cum play :: spitting :: crying during sex :: drooling :: incoherent babbling :: idk how to do warnings :: can u tell
You've been dating Toji for three months now, and tonight marks a shift you've both been building toward. The age gap between you—him settled into his mid thirties with a seven-year-old son, you still navigating your early twenties—raised eyebrows at first, but there's an undeniable pull between you. Megumi's sleeping over at a friend’s house, which means you have the entire night. No interruptions. No holding back.
The bedroom door clicks shut, and Toji's presence fills the space behind you immediately. His hands find your waist, pulling you back against the solid heat of his chest. You can feel every defined muscle, the way his body radiates a quiet, controlled strength.
"Been waiting for this," he says against your ear, voice low and unhurried. His breath ghosts over your skin, making you shiver. "Gonna take my time with you tonight."
Your heart hammers as his palms slide up your sides, thumbs grazing just beneath your breasts through your thin tank top. The touch is deliberate, mapping you out like he's committing every detail to memory.
"Toji..." you breathe, already feeling heat pool low in your belly.
"Shh." His lips find the curve of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses there while his hands continue their exploration. The scar on his lip—a pale line bisecting the left side—drags against your skin, a reminder of how different his world is from yours. "You trust me?"
"Yes." The answer comes without hesitation.
"Good." His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he grinds against you from behind. Even through his sweatpants, you can feel him—thick and already hard, pressing insistently against the curve of your ass. "Told you I'd help you figure out what that body of yours can do. Tonight's the night, doll."
You'd confessed to him weeks ago, during a late-night conversation, that you'd never found your g-spot. Never experienced squirting despite watching enough videos to know it was possible. He'd just given you that dangerous half-smile, the scar on his lip pulling slightly, and promised he'd show you everything you were missing.
Toji spins you around, capturing your mouth in a kiss that's immediately consuming. He doesn't ease into it—his tongue slides against yours with purpose, claiming and demanding. One hand tangles in your hair while the other grips your hip, holding you exactly where he wants you. When he finally pulls back, you're breathless and dizzy.
"Get on the bed," he says simply.
You obey, settling onto the mattress while he watches with dark, focused eyes. He strips off his shirt in one smooth motion, revealing the carved planes of his chest and abdomen. Scars mark his skin—some faded, some newer—each one a story he's never fully told you. His body is a weapon honed through years of whatever dangerous work he does, and right now, all that controlled power is focused entirely on you.
He stalks toward the bed, movements unhurried but predatory. When he reaches you, his hands go to the hem of your tank top.
"Arms up."
You raise them, and he pulls the fabric over your head, tossing it aside. His gaze rakes over you—your full breasts straining against your bra, the thick muscle of your thighs. His jaw tightens as he takes you in.
"Perfect," he mutters, more to himself than to you.
He pushes you back onto the mattress, following you down. His weight settles over you, and you can feel every hard inch of him pressed against your core. The friction of his sweatpants against your shorts makes you gasp, hips bucking up involuntarily.
Toji grinds down deliberately, the thick ridge of his cock dragging right where you need it. "Feel that?" he asks, doing it again. "That's what you do to me."
"Please," you whimper, hands clutching at his broad shoulders.
"Not yet." His fingers find the button of your shorts, flicking it open with practiced ease. "Lift your hips."
You do, and he slides both your shorts and underwear down your legs in one smooth pull, leaving you bare from the waist down. The cool air hits your overheated skin, and you instinctively try to close your legs, but Toji's hands on your thighs stop you.
"Don't hide." His voice carries quiet authority as he pushes your legs apart, spreading you open. His eyes fix between your thighs, and you watch his throat work as he swallows. "Fuck. Look at you."
He runs one finger through your folds, gathering the wetness already there, and you jolt at the contact. When he brings that finger to his mouth and sucks it clean, maintaining eye contact the entire time, your face burns.
"Tastes good," he says, settling between your thighs. His hands grip your ass, pulling you closer to his face. "But I need more than a taste."
"You don't have to—oh fuck!"
Your protest dissolves into a sharp moan as his tongue drags through your folds, slow and thorough. He groans against you, the vibration making your toes curl against the sheets.
Toji eats pussy like he does everything else—with complete focus and zero hesitation. His tongue works through your folds, circling your clit before dipping down to fuck into your entrance. He's not gentle about it either. His face presses close enough that you can feel his nose bumping against your clit while his tongue explores you, and the wet, obscene sounds fill the room.
"Could do this for hours," he mutters against your flesh, and you believe him.
Your hands find his dark hair, fingers tangling in the strands as pleasure builds with each stroke of his tongue. He alternates between broad licks and focused attention on your clit, occasionally sealing his lips around the sensitive bud and sucking until you cry out.
"That's it," he encourages, the words vibrating against you. "Let me hear you."
When he slides one thick finger inside you, your back arches off the bed. He pumps it slowly, curling it as he searches, and you can feel him exploring your inner walls with clear intent.
"Gonna find it," he says, adding a second finger. The stretch makes you gasp—his fingers are so much thicker than yours, reaching deeper than you've ever managed on your own. "That spot that's gonna make you lose your mind."
He curls his fingers just right, and suddenly there's pressure—deep and intense and completely different from anything you've felt before.
"There," Toji says with satisfaction, pressing against that spot again. "Found you."
"Toji, I—" You're not sure what you're trying to say. The sensation is overwhelming, making you want to squirm away and press closer simultaneously.
"I know." His free hand pins your hip down, keeping you in place. "Just relax. Trust me."
He maintains that steady pressure inside you while his tongue works your clit, and the combination builds something unfamiliar low in your belly. Your thighs start shaking, and there's a strange fullness, a pressure that feels like you might—
"Let go," Toji instructs, pulling back just enough to watch your face while his fingers continue their work. "Stop fighting it. Just let it happen."
"I can't—it feels weird—"
"You can." His thumb replaces his tongue on your clit, rubbing tight circles. "Give it to me, doll."
The pressure becomes unbearable, and then suddenly you're coming apart. Your pussy clenches around his fingers as your orgasm hits, but it's different this time—you feel yourself gush, fluid leaking out around his fingers as you squirt for the first time in your life. The intensity of it makes you sob, tears streaming down your face as pleasure crashes through you in relentless waves.
"Fuck yes," Toji groans, and you feel his tongue on you again, lapping up everything you give him. "That's my girl. Squirting all over my face. So fucking perfect."
You're shaking uncontrollably, overwhelmed by sensations you've never experienced. When you finally come down, you're boneless and gasping, staring at the ceiling in a daze.
Toji crawls up your body, his face wet with your release, and kisses you deeply. You taste yourself on his tongue, and instead of embarrassment, it sends another pulse of arousal through you.
"Did so good," he murmurs against your lips, kissing away the tears on your cheeks. "See? Told you your body could do it."
"That was—I've never—" Words fail you completely.
"I know." There's satisfaction in his voice as he sits back on his heels. "And we're just getting started."
He strips off his sweatpants and boxers, and even though you've felt him against you, seeing him bare still makes your eyes widen. He's huge—easily eight or nine inches of thick, veined cock, the head flushed dark and already leaking. Your fingers wouldn't touch if you wrapped your hand around him.
"See what you do to me?" He strokes himself slowly, and you watch, mesmerized. "Been hard since we walked in here."
He reaches for the nightstand, but you stop him with a hand on his wrist.
"No condom," you say, surprising yourself with the boldness. "Want to feel you. All of you."
His eyes darken, pupils blown wide. "You sure? Because if I fuck you raw, I'm not pulling out."
The thought sends heat flooding through you. "I'm on birth control. Please, Toji."
"Fuck." He tosses the unopened condom aside. "Gonna ruin you, baby."
He positions himself at your entrance, the broad head of his cock pressing against your opening. Even as wet as you are, even after your orgasm, the stretch as he pushes in is intense. You feel every inch as he works himself inside, slow and relentless.
"Breathe," he instructs, watching your face carefully. "Take it slow. That's it."
The praise makes you clench around him, and he groans, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.
"Don't do that yet," he grits out. "Still gotta get all the way in."
It takes time—he's so thick that your body needs to adjust to accommodate him—but finally, finally, he's fully seated inside you. You feel impossibly full, stretched to your absolute limit. When you look down, you can see the slight bulge in your lower belly where he's buried deep.
"Look at that." Toji presses down on the bulge, and you both groan at the sensation. "So deep in this pussy. Gonna find every spot that makes you scream."
He starts to move, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. The drag of his cock against your inner walls is exquisite—you can feel every ridge, every vein, the way he stretches you open.
"So tight," he grunts, setting a steady rhythm. "Squeezing me so good."
He angles his hips, searching, and when he hits that spot inside you again, you cry out sharply.
"There it is." He adjusts his position, making sure every thrust hits that same spot. "That's what I'm looking for."
The pleasure builds quickly, intensifying with each deliberate stroke. Your hands clutch at his back, nails digging into scarred skin as he fucks into you with clear purpose.
"Toji," you gasp, his name the only word you can manage.
"That's right. Say my name." He picks up the pace, fucking into you harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with your increasingly desperate moans. "Let everyone know who's making you feel this good."
He reaches between your bodies, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles. The added stimulation combined with the way he's hitting your g-spot with every thrust pushes you toward another orgasm.
"Gonna make you squirt on my cock," Toji says, voice rough. "Wanna feel you gush all over me while I'm buried inside you."
Your second orgasm hits like a tidal wave. You scream his name as your pussy clenches around him, and you feel yourself gushing again, fluid leaking out around his cock as he continues to fuck you through it.
"Holy fuck," he groans. "So fucking hot. Making such a mess, doll."
You're crying again, tears streaming down your face as the pleasure overwhelms you. Your thoughts are starting to go hazy, the edges of your mind going soft and unfocused.
"Pretty when you cry," Toji murmurs, leaning down to lick the tears from your cheeks. "Crying on my cock like a good girl."
He pulls out suddenly, and you whimper at the loss.
"Hands and knees," he orders.
You scramble to obey on shaky limbs, getting into position. Once you're there, he slides back in with one smooth thrust, and the new angle has him hitting even deeper. You can feel him pressing against your cervix, and the mix of pleasure-pain makes you sob.
"Too deep?" he asks, but he doesn't slow down.
"N-no," you manage. "Feels good. So good."
"That's my girl." One hand grips your hip while the other slides up your spine. "Taking every fucking inch."
He fucks you hard in this position, each thrust making your ass bounce and your breasts sway. The sounds are obscene—the wet squelch of your pussy, the slap of his hips against your ass, your increasingly incoherent moans.
"Such a good little slut for me," Toji says, and the degradation mixed with praise makes you clench around him. "Yeah? You like that? Like being my personal fucktoy?"
"Yes," you sob. "Yes, yes, yes."
Your arms give out, and you collapse forward onto the bed, ass still in the air. Toji follows you down, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he continues to pound into you.
"Gonna try something," he says. "Tell me if it's too much."
You feel his finger—slick with your wetness—press against your other hole. You tense instinctively, but he soothes you with his free hand stroking your back.
"Relax," he murmurs. "Just gonna use my finger. Gonna make you feel even better."
He works his finger in slowly, and the added fullness makes you see stars. You've never felt so full, so completely claimed.
"Fuck, you're perfect," Toji groans. "Taking me in both holes. So fucking tight."
He fucks you like this for what feels like hours, finger in your ass and cock in your pussy, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. You lose count of how many times you cum, each orgasm blending into the next until you're just a shaking, sobbing mess beneath him.
Your mind is completely gone now, cock-drunk and incoherent. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth onto the sheets, and you can't form words anymore, just babbling nonsense and his name.
"T-Toji, Toji, please, so good, can't—I can't—more, please, so full, love it, love your cock, please please please—"
"That's it, doll," he encourages. "Go dumb on my dick. Don't need to think. Just need to feel."
He pulls his finger out and flips you over onto your back again. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up, but Toji hooks them over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half.
"Gonna fuck you even deeper," he warns.
When he slides back in, this position has him hitting your cervix with every thrust. The intensity makes you scream—it's too much and not enough all at once, pleasure bordering on pain but so good you never want it to stop.
"Look at you," Toji says, and you force your eyes open to meet his gaze. "Completely fucked out. Drooling and crying and taking my cock so well."
He leans down, and you think he's going to kiss you, but instead he spits directly into your open mouth.
"Swallow," he orders.
You do without thinking, and his eyes darken with approval.
"Good girl. Such a good fucking girl for me."
His thrusts are getting erratic now, and you can tell he's close. One of his hands wraps around your throat—not squeezing, just holding—while the other finds your clit again.
"One more," he demands. "Cum with me, baby."
The pressure on your throat, the stimulation on your clit, the relentless pounding of his cock—it all combines to push you over the edge one more time. You cum with a silent scream, body going rigid as pleasure whites out your vision.
Coming down from your high, you feel his thrusts become sloppy. In your cock-drunk haze, your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, locking your ankles behind his back to keep him inside you. You need him to stay, need to feel every drop.
"Fuck," Toji chants, and then he's cumming too, buried as deep as he can get. You can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you with his release, and it seems to go on forever.
The leg-lock does something to Toji. His eyes go wild, almost feral, and he groans like he's in pain.
"Fuck, doll," he gasps. "Locking me in like that. Keeping me inside this pussy."
He's still hard inside you—barely softened at all—and you can feel him starting to move again.
"Can't stop," he says, sounding almost apologetic. "This pussy's got me fucking drunk. Need more."
"Yes," you slur, still not fully coherent. "More. Want more."
"Gonna give it to you." His voice has gone rough, almost desperate. "Gonna fuck my cum deeper inside you. Gonna fill you up even more."
He unwraps your legs from around him and pulls out, and you both watch as his cum leaks out of your used pussy. The sight makes him groan.
"So pretty," he says, gathering the cum on his fingers and pushing it back inside you. "This all belongs inside you."
Then he's maneuvering you into a new position. He sits back against the headboard and pulls you into his lap, your back to his chest. His cock slides back into you easily, and this position has him even deeper than before.
"Gonna fuck you like this," he says, hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wide. "Want you to watch."
You look down and can see everything—your swollen, used pussy stretched around his thick cock, his cum leaking out around him, the way your lower belly bulges slightly with each thrust.
"See that?" One hand presses on the bulge. "So deep in this pussy. Fucking your cervix. Gonna make you feel me for days."
He starts to move, lifting you up and down on his cock. The position has your legs spread wide, completely open and exposed, and you can see everything in the mirror across from the bed.
You look wrecked—hair a mess, face flushed and tear-stained, drool on your chin, eyes glazed and unfocused. You look thoroughly fucked, and the sight makes you clench around him.
"Like watching?" Toji asks. "Like seeing how ruined you look?"
"Uh-huh," you manage, unable to form real words anymore.
One of his hands slides up to your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple, while the other finds your clit again. You're so oversensitive that even the lightest touch makes you jerk.
"Gonna make you cum again," he says. "Wanna see how many times I can make this pussy squirt."
He bounces you on his cock faster, harder, and you can only hold on and take it. Your head falls back against his shoulder, mouth open in a constant moan.
"That's it. Just take it. Don't gotta do anything but sit there and let me use this pussy like the cockwhore you are."
The degradation mixed with the praise, the overstimulation, the feeling of his cum inside you—it all pushes you toward another orgasm. You didn't think you had another one in you, but your body proves you wrong.
"Gonna—gonna—" you try to warn him, but the words won't come.
"I know. Can feel you getting tight. Go ahead. Squirt all over my cock again."
Your orgasm hits, and you do squirt again, fluid gushing out around his cock and soaking both of you. You're sobbing now, completely overwhelmed, body shaking uncontrollably.
"So good," Toji groans. "Such a good fucking girl."
He shifts positions again, this time pulling you forward so you're on your hands and knees. But instead of kneeling behind you, he straddles your hips, one arm wrapping around your throat in a loose headlock while the other grips your hip.
"This okay?" he checks, and you nod frantically.
"Good," he says, and then he's fucking into you with renewed intensity.
The headlock position has you completely at his mercy. You can't move, can't do anything but take what he gives you. The angle is different too, his cock dragging against your g-spot with every thrust.
"Love having you like this," he grunts in your ear. "Completely under my control."
His arm around your throat tightens slightly—not enough to cut off air, just enough to make you lightheaded. Combined with the relentless pounding, it's almost too much.
"Color?" he asks, checking in.
"Green," you gasp. "So green. Don't stop."
"Wasn't planning to."
He fucks you harder, faster, chasing his second orgasm. You're beyond cumming at this point, just existing in a constant state of pleasure, body trembling and twitching with every thrust.
"Gonna fill you up again," he warns. "Gonna pump you so full of cum it'll be leaking out for days."
The possessiveness in his voice makes you clench weakly around him.
"Yeah, you like that," he says. "Like being mine."
"Yours," you manage to slur. "All yours."
"Damn right," he growls, and then he's cumming again, the arm around your throat tightening as he buries himself as deep as possible.
You can feel him pulsing inside you, adding to the mess already there. It's so much—too much—and you can feel it leaking out even as he's still cumming.
When he finally finishes, he releases the headlock and you collapse forward onto the bed, completely boneless. Toji follows you down, keeping his cock inside you as you both catch your breath.
"Did so good," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "So fucking perfect for me."
You can only whimper in response, completely fucked out and incoherent. Your body is still twitching with aftershocks, oversensitive and used.
Toji finally pulls out, and you both watch as cum gushes out of you, soaking the sheets beneath you. There's so much of it, and the sight makes him groan.
"Fuck, look at that," he says, running his fingers through the mess and pushing it back inside you. "So pretty like this."
He brings his cum-covered fingers to your mouth, and you automatically open, sucking them clean without thought.
"Good girl," he praises. "Love how cock-drunk you get."
He gathers more cum on his fingers and feeds it to you again, and you swallow it down obediently, too far gone to feel embarrassed.
"That's it. Taste how good we are together."
When his fingers are clean, he finally rolls off you, pulling you into his arms. You're still trembling, still crying softly, completely overwhelmed by everything that just happened.
"Shh, I got you," he soothes, stroking your hair. "You're okay. Did so good for me."
His praise makes you cry harder, emotions overwhelming you.
"Found it," you mumble against his chest. "Found my g-spot."
He laughs softly. "Yeah, we did. And you squirted so pretty for me, doll."
"Love you," you slur, barely conscious now.
"Love you too," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Now rest. Gonna take care of you."
You drift off in his arms, thoroughly used and completely satisfied, already dreaming about the next time he'll take you apart like this.
When you wake up later, cleaned and tucked into fresh sheets, Toji is there beside you, watching you with soft eyes.
"Hey, doll," he says gently. "How you feeling?"
"Sore," you admit. "But good. Really good."
"Good," he says, pulling you closer. "Because I'm not done with you yet. Gonna spend all night finding new ways to make you squirt for me."
And he does.
By morning, you can barely walk, thoroughly marked and claimed and completely his. And you wouldn't have it any other way.
I hope there aren’t any mistakes i did not beta read this
best friend megumi but it’s us hooking up and our bf calling us mid sesh and megumi’s an asshole and makes us answer- yooooooooo who said thattttt
♯ someone decides to call you during a rather inconvenient moment while you’re with bestfriend!megumi. you’re already planning to let it go unanswered, but megumi seems to have other plans. twt link
the soft, rhythmic creaking of the bed filled the room, its quiet groans blending with the hush of the late night and the air was thick with the scent of musk and sweat. you were pressed face down into his pillow, your hips arched high in the air, presenting your soaking wet cunt to him.
“you okay?”
“mmmhm..”
megumi wasn't rushing with you. he was taking his time, sliding his dick deep into you with a slow, agonizing precision. every time he pushed forward, he hit your cervix, forcing a sharp, high pitched squeal from your throat. he had one heavy hand pressed firmly against your spine, pinning you down, while the other gripped your hip, bruising your skin.
"you like this big dick stretching you out, pretty?" he murmured under his breath, his voice warm and hushed, briefly catching your eyes as you leaned your head back. the corners of his lips lifted into a faint smile at the sight of your expression, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt. "is it better than your boyfriend's?"
"megumi! oooh fuck— you’re in so deep,” you whimpered, your voice muffled by the pillow.
"not gonna answer me?" he scoffed, deliberately waiting for the inevitable complaint before he picked up his pace just enough to make your insides quiver. "i asked, is he as big as me? does he make you dumb like this?"
"ohmygod! no— god, no—" you squealed, your hands tightening around the dark sheets as he hit that sweet spot again.
through the otherwise quiet night, the vibration of your phone on the nightstand suddenly meddled with the sound of wet slapping flesh. the screen brightened, your boyfriend's name filling the display and, for a moment, you could only stare, your breath caught in your throat.
"shit— megumi," you gasped out, your eyes widening as your boyfriend's name illuminated the screen once more. "he’s calling!" you pulse spiked, panic settling like a weight in your chest while your mind scrambled for what to do next.
megumi didn't stop, however. if anything, he pushed deeper, his dick pulsing inside you. "answer it."
"what? are you crazy?! n— no!— i can't!"
"i said answer it," he countered. and when you hesitated, his free hand shot up, winding tightly into your hair and yanking your head back off the pillow. the sudden movement forced you to look up at him, your eyes wide and glazed with need and fear.
"pick up the phone or i’ll make sure i fuck you riiight at his front doorstep next time,” he muttered calmly, the certainty in his voice unmistakable, leaving no room for discussion.
you whined softly at his words, muttering a small, "shut up," before your trembling fingers reached out to swipe the screen and bring the phone to your ear. “h— hello?" you managed, your voice trembling slightly as you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to steady yourself.
"hey, babe," your boyfriend greeted you, his voice light and casual through the speaker. "just got back from the gym. sorry if i sound out of breath. what’re you up to?"
at that exact moment, megumi shifted his weight. while he continued to slide his dick in and out of you with a slow, rhythmic grind, his hand reached around, his long fingers finding your clit. he began to rub it vigorously, circling the sensitive nub with a cruel, expert precision.
"fuck—" you choked back a moan, turning it into a cough.
"babe?" your boyfriend repeated, a hint of concern slipping into his voice when you didn’t answer right away. "you okay? you sound.. out of breath. were you working out or something?" he let out a small laugh, treating it like nothing more than a strange coincidence.
the slightest curve appeared at the corner of megumi’s lips, gone almost as soon as it arrived, though the amusement in his expression was unmistakable. he leaned down to press a sloppy kiss on your neck, his fingers pressing harder into your clit which just made your thighs tremble further.
"i’m— i'm just— hah! cleaning my room," you lied, your voice pitching higher as megumi suddenly drove his dick deep, bottoming out inside you. "i'm just— it's a lot of work, y— y’know?"
he leaned closer to the phone, though he didn't speak yet, just watching your face crumble as you tried to maintain your composure—to no avail.
"you sound weird," your boyfriend said, his voice growing more cautious. he paused for a moment, listening closely before asking, "are you crying? what happened?"
megumi’s fingers flicked your clit sharply, and you let out a loud, unmistakable moan that echoed through the line.
"what was that?" your boyfriend demanded, the casualness in his voice disappearing instantly. there was a sharp edge to his tone now, like he was replaying the sound in his head. "who the fuck is with you?"
you opened your mouth to lie, but megumi was faster. he reached over and snatched the phone right out of your hand, and without any hesitation, he brought the device closer to his lips while he gave one deep thrust that left you whimpering and shaking.
"she’s busy," he said, his voice flat and dripping with arrogance. you felt yourself trembling with both pleasure and dread for the aftermath you'd have to deal with.
but before your boyfriend could say another word, let alone question why the hell he was there, megumi abruptly ended the call and threw your phone across the room.
“megs— are you serious?!”
“very serious, beautiful.”
he gripped your waist tight and flipped you over onto your back, positioning your legs so they rested on his shoulders.
"now," he huffed, gently slapping his dick on your cunt.
ᝰ.ᐟ bf!toji who hates seeing you cry until he makes you sob during sex ⸝⸝ 18+ mdni
bf!toji who acts like nothing bothers him, but he secretly notices every little change in your mood. he knows exactly how sensitive you are and treats your feelings like something fragile, even if he tries to act casual about it.
bf!toji is the type to drop his tough guy act the second your bottom lip starts shaking. if you two are watching a sad movie and a pet dies, or if you just had a terrible day and drop your cup on the floor—he's right there. he won't tease you. he’ll just pull you against his chest, let you ruin his shirt with your tears, and rub your back until you stop crying. he genuinely hates seeing you sad.
bf!toji who is completely caught off guard the first time it happens. you’re sitting on his lap, wrapped around him, completely lost in the moment. one of his big, rough hand is holding your hips, keeping you close, while he kisses your neck and slowly moves his thick digits inside your pussy, finding a rhythm that takes your breath away.
bf!toji stops completely the second he hears a small, shaky sniffle. he goes totally stiff under you. he stops moving his fingers and pulls back from your neck, his dark eyes wide and worried as he holds your face. seeing tears running down your cheeks scares him a little.
"hey... look at me. what's wrong? did i hurt you?" his voice is rough and actually panicked. "tell me, do you want me to stop?"
bf!toji watches you whine softly because he stopped. you shake your head, hiding your face in his shoulder and crying out the truth: "n-no, don't stop... it just—it feels too good, ji. i can't help it."
bf!toji freezes, taking in what you just said. hearing that you aren't crying from pain, but because he is making you feel that good? a switch flips in his brain and the panic disappears, replaced by a huge rush of excitement.
bf!toji becomes totally obsessed with this—knowing he can make you lose control just by touching you makes his ego go through the roof. the sweet boyfriend who hates to see you cry in public completely disappears behind closed doors. in bed, your tears mean he's doing a good job.
bf!toji gets really smug and loves to tease you about it. he’ll purposely slow down, touching the exact spot that makes you crazy, watching your eyes fill with tears while he smirks.
"look at you," he’ll whisper, wiping a tear away with his thumb. "crying already? you're so sweet for me. keep going, let me see how good it feels."
bf!toji loves to push you over the edge by building the friction until you can't take it. he’ll pin your wrists above your head, spreading your legs wide so he can look right at you while he slides all the way inside. every time he thrusts deep and hits your sweet spot, a fresh wave of tears leaks from your eyes, and he just stares down at you with a dark, heavy grin, loving how loud you gasp and sob under him.
bf!toji who will change positions just to make you cry harder. he'll flip you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up high so he can slide in from behind. the angle is deep and intense, and as he grips your waist hard enough to leave marks, you're burying your face in the pillows to muffle your crying. he'll lean down, his chest pressing against your back, and talk right into your ear.
"baby, let me hear it—turn your head and look at me—god, look at how wet your face is just because i'm stretching you out like this."
bf!toji decides that if you aren't crying by the end of the night, he didn't try hard enough. it becomes a game to him. he will deliberately push you over the edge, using his dick and his dirty mouth to keep you completely overwhelmed until you're shaking and crying in his arms.
bf!toji who will actually praise you for crying. while he's holding you tight and making love to you, listening to you sob, he’ll lean down to kiss your wet cheeks and growl, "that's it, gooood girl. cry for me."
NSFW. boyfriend!satoru just can’t stop playing with your tits
The very first time you slept with Satoru, you immediately knew he was a certified tit guy.
He’d spent what felt like forever massaging them, sucking on your nipples, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh—completely lost in it—while you were practically throbbing and dying for him to finally fuck you.
Two years later, nothing had changed. If anything, he’d only gotten worse.
He touched them every single chance he got: insisting on showering together just so he could lather your breasts with slippery soap and play with them under the hot water, absentmindedly teasing your nipples when he slung an arm around your shoulders on the couch, and even sucking melted ice cream straight off them like it was the most natural thing in the world.
But your ovulation week? That was his absolute favorite.
Your tits always swelled up—rounder, heavier, impossibly more sensitive. And today was one of those days.
It was stupidly hot, so you’d skipped the bra entirely and thrown on your usual lazy outfit at home: tiny sleep shorts and a thin, loose tank top with spaghetti straps.
You hadn’t thought twice about it… until you felt Satoru’s gaze burning into you.
“Fuck,” he breathed, mouth hanging open, eyes glued to your chest. “They’re practically spilling out over the edge of that little top, baby.”
Before you could even respond, he closed the distance in five long strides. One large hand settled possessively on your waist, pulling you flush against him, while the other boldly traced slow, reverent circles over the full, heavy curve of your breast.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, voice already husky. “Look at you. So fucking full today.”
His thumb brushed over your nipple through the thin fabric, and it stiffened instantly, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight between your legs. A low, satisfied sound rumbled in his chest.
He didn’t wait for permission. He never really did when it came to your tits. In one smooth motion, he tugged the strap of your tank top down your shoulder, freeing one breast completely. The cool air hit your heated skin, making your nipple tighten even more.
Satoru’s eyes darkened with hunger.
He leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue over it slowly, savoring the way you shivered. Then he latched on, sucking greedily while his hand continued kneading the soft, overflowing flesh of your other breast.
You could feel how hard he already was against your stomach
He pulled back just enough to speak, lips glistening, voice wrecked. “C’mere. I need both of them in my mouth.”
Without warning, he scooped you up like you weighed nothing and carried you to the couch, dropping down with you straddling his lap. He yanked the other strap down, fully exposing your chest, and buried his face between your tits with a deep, contented groan.
His hands never stopped moving—squeezing, pushing them together, thumbs flicking over your sensitive peaks as he alternated between sucking and licking like a man starved.
You were getting so turned on watching him play with your tits that you didn’t think twice. You slid off his lap, dropped to your knees in front of him, and eagerly pulled his pants down just enough to free his cock. It sprang out, hard and flushed, already glistening at the tip. The sight made your mouth water.
You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, your body burning with need, the heat intensified by your ovulation.
“Oh god, you’re gonna spoil me rotten baby” he said softly, almost in awe as you pressed your swollen tits around his length.
You pushed them together tightly, enveloping him in soft, warm flesh. Then, looking up at him, you parted your lips and let your tongue hang out obediently, waiting.
“Fuck— that’s it,” he moaned, eyes darkening. “Such a good girl.”
He started thrusting slowly between your breasts, savoring every slide. With each upward thrust, the flushed head of his cock brushed against your waiting tongue, leaving a trail of salty precum on it.
“You’re getting so turned on, aren’t you?” he murmured, voice sweet and filthy at the same time. “I can see it in your eyes…Bet you’re already soaking those little shorts for me.”
He kept a steady rhythm, fucking your tits while his hands gently squeezed and played with them, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples and your own hands.
“Feels so fucking good… warm and soft,” he groaned, hips stuttering a little when the tip of his cock dragged across your tongue again. “You drive me crazy.”
Your cheeks were flushed, thighs pressing together as the ache between your legs grew stronger. Every thrust made you wetter, your body throbbing with need while he used your heavy, sensitive breasts exactly how he wanted.
Satoru’s breathing grew heavier, his thrusts a little faster, but he held back, clearly trying not to cum yet. He wanted to save it for your pussy.
“C’mon, baby,” he rasped, voice rough with desire. “I’ll fuck you nice and deep just like you need.”
He suddenly stood up, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you toward the bedroom, kissing you hungrily on the way. His hard cock pressed against your soaked shorts with every step.
Once he laid you down on the bed, he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and full of lust.
“I’m gonna cum so much inside you…” he murmured against your lips, voice low and filthy, “I’ll fill you up until it takes.”
You whimpered at his words, a rush of heat flooding your body as you imagined it — your belly swelling, your tits growing even bigger and heavier, and Satoru being even more obsessed with them, sucking and fucking them while you were pregnant.
He smirked, noticing the way your thighs squeezed together.
“Yeah? You like that idea, don’t you?” he teased, sliding his hand between your legs. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure to abuse these pretty tits even more when they’re full of milk.”
⋮ ⌗ ┆ 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ! | okay first off, WHY is this SO FUCKIN EMOTIONAL for no absolute reason. damn. consider this a 1000 follower special! likes & reblogs are appreciated!
NOTE: this is 𝐧𝐨𝐭 romanticising blindess if some of y'all didn't get that. quite the opposite, actually. from how i intended it, it's supposed to show that visual impairment is no issue, and love has no boundaries. 𖹭
[𝜗ৎ] 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 : 2.9k
𝓜𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏! / 2000 𝗙𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟
my husband hates me.
the thought settles deep in your chest like a stone, familiar and heavy, as you lie on the silk sheets of the massive bed.
your fingers trace the embroidered patterns on your robe—some floral design you can't see but can feel beneath your fingertips. the fabric is soft, expensive. everything here is expensive. everything here screams luxury and power and wealth.
but none of it screams love.
you hear nothing from his side of the bed.
the man is so impossibly quiet, it makes your skin prickle with unease. you've been here for three months now. three months as the wife of ryomen sukuna, the king of curses, the most feared ruler in all the lands. and in those three months, he has barely spoken a word to you.
at first, you thought it was a game.
some twisted test of patience. you were clever enough to know that political marriages were rarely about love. you'd been prepared for indifference, for coldness, for a husband who saw you as nothing more than a strategic alliance.
but this? this silent treatment that stretches night after night, this deliberate distance he keeps?
it cuts deeper than you expected.
your hand moves from your robe to your stomach, pressing against the plane of your belly. you're small. you know this. delicate in a way that makes people underestimate you. and blind. gods, the blindness. the one thing that has sent every single suitor running in the opposite direction.
princes would see your face first—the one they called ethereal, otherworldly, beautiful in a way that seemed impossible—and they'd fall to their knees.
they'd whisper sweet words, promises of devotion, declarations of love at first sight. and then you'd speak, and they'd realize your eyes didn't track their movements, didn't meet their gaze. and slowly, painfully, you'd listen to them pull away. hear the hesitation creep into their voices. feel the distance grow until they were gone.
you were used to it.
but sukuna? sukuna had looked at you once, for a single moment, and said yes. the entire empire had been shocked. the king of curses, the ruthless murderer, the emperor who had never shown interest in any woman, accepting a blind bride from a neighboring kingdom? it was scandalous. impossible.
and you'd felt hope.
you hate yourself for that hope now.
because three months of silence have taught you the truth. he doesn't want you. he tolerates you. and honestly? you'd almost prefer cruelty. at least cruelty would be a reaction. at least cruelty would mean he saw you as something worth acknowledging.
but this nothingness? this endless, suffocating nothingness?
it makes you feel like you've already disappeared.
the servants guide you through your days with practiced efficiency. they dress you, feed you, lead you through the palace halls. you've memorized the layout of your chambers, the path to the gardens, the number of steps from your room to the dining hall. you've learned to navigate this world without sight, just as you've always done.
but you can't navigate him.
you don't know where he sits at meals. you don't know if he watches you. you don't know if he even notices when you're in the same room. his presence is a void—a massive, oppressive absence of warmth that you can feel but never touch.
tonight was bad.
you'd been led to the gardens by a new servant, someone who didn't know your habits. she'd taken you left instead of right, and you'd walked straight into a hedge, thorns scratching your calves before she'd yanked you back with a flurry of apologies.
then you'd almost fallen down a staircase—the grand staircase with its uneven steps—your foot catching on the edge, your heart lurching into your throat as you'd pitched forward. a guard caught you just in time.
and the whispers.
you can't see their faces, but you can hear their voices. the concubines. the noblewomen. the servants who think you can't hear them.
"the blind empress."
"does he even notice her?"
"i heard he hasn't touched her once."
"what a waste of a pretty face."
"she must be so lonely."
"she must be so pathetic."
you'd smiled through all of it. kept your head high, your shoulders back, your voice steady. you learned long ago that showing weakness only invites more cruelty. so you'd walked through the halls with your practiced grace, your cane tapping against the marble floors, your face serene.
but inside, you were crumbling.
and now, lying in this massive bed, with your hair spread across a silk pillow and the scent of incense curling through the air, you can feel him beside you. he's so close. you know he's sitting up, his back probably against the headboard, his presence a heavy weight in the darkness.
does he ever sleep?
you've never heard him snore. never heard him shift in his sleep. he's so still, so silent, you sometimes wonder if he's even real.
a long, long time passes. the candles burn down. the incense fades. the night wraps around you like a shroud.
and you can't take it anymore.
"ryomen?"
your voice comes out soft, barely above a whisper. you hate how small you sound. how vulnerable. you'd wanted to sound strong, confident, demanding. instead, you sound like a child calling out in the dark.
silence.
you wait. count your heartbeats. one. two. three. four. five.
just when you're certain he's ignoring you, just when the familiar ache of rejection settles into your chest, a voice cuts through the darkness.
"what."
it's gruff. low. a single word that rumbles through the air like distant thunder. and it's the most he's said to you in days.
you swallow. your throat is dry. your fingers twist in the sheets.
"i...i want to ask you something."
more silence. you can feel him staring at you. you can't see it, but you can feel it—the weight of his gaze, heavy and unreadable.
"ask."
you take a shaky breath. this is it. this is the moment you've been building toward for three months. the question that's been eating you alive, consuming you from the inside out.
"do you hate me?"
the words hang in the air between you. they sound so small. so pathetic. you wish you could take them back, but it's too late. they're out there now, exposed and raw.
"hate you?" his voice is strange. almost...confused?
"because of...because i'm...y'know, blind." the words taste like ash in your mouth. "i know it's...i know i'm not what you expected. i know i'm not the best option. i know i'm—"
"stop."
the word is sharp, and you flinch. your breath catches in your throat. you brace yourself for anger, for cruelty, for him to finally confirm what you've suspected all along.
but instead of harsh words, you feel movement. the bed shifts. his weight moves closer.
and then, without warning, a hand wraps around your waist and pulls.
you let out a frightened shriek as you're yanked from your position, your body colliding with something solid and warm. your hands fly out, grasping at fabric, at skin, at anything. you're on his lap, straddling his thighs, your chest pressed against his. he's so big—so impossibly large—that you feel like a doll in his arms.
"ryomen!" your voice is high, panicked. "what—"
"quiet."
his hand settles on your thigh. it's huge. calloused. rough in a way that sends shivers down your spine. but the touch is gentle. impossibly gentle. he strokes your thigh once, twice, a soothing motion that slowly calms your racing heart.
"you really think," he says slowly, his voice rumbling against your chest, "that i hate you?"
you can't speak. your throat is too tight. you settle for shaking your head against his chest, even though it's a lie.
a low sound escapes him—not quite a growl, not quite a laugh. his hand slides from your thigh to your chin, tilting your face up. his thumb brushes across your lower lip, feather-light.
"open your eyes."
the command catches you off guard. "what?"
"your eyes. open them."
you blink, confused. your eyes are already open. you can't see anything, but they're open. you tell him as much.
"no." his voice is strange. softer. "i mean...look at me."
"i can't see you."
"i know." his thumb traces your jawline. "but i can see you. and i want to see your eyes. please."
please.
the word catches you off guard. the king of curses, saying please? to you?
you don't move. don't breathe. just let him hold your face in his massive hand, his touch devastatingly tender.
"i don't hate you," he says, and his voice cracks on the words. "gods, woman. i could never hate you."
your heart stutters. "then why—"
"because i'm fuckin' terrified."
you blink. "what?"
"do you know what i am?" his hand slides from your face to your hair, fingers threading through the strands. "i'm a killer. i've been killing for centuries. my hands are stained with blood i'll never wash clean. i'm rough, and violent, and i don't know how to be gentle."
"but—"
"but when i saw you..." he trails off. his fingers tighten in your hair, just barely. "when i saw you, i couldn't breathe. you were so beautiful. so small. so... perfect. and i thought, 'she's too good f'me.' , 'i'll break her.' , 'i'll hurt her.'"
his voice drops to a whisper.
"so i stayed away. because every time i look at you, i want to touch you. and every time i touch you, i'm afraid i'll destroy you."
tears prick at your eyes. you don't understand. you can't understand. this entire time, you thought he hated you. you thought he found you repulsive, broken, worthless.
but he was...
...afraid?
"you don't hate me?" you whisper.
"no." his forehead presses against yours. "i love you. i've loved you since the moment i saw you."
a sob escapes your throat. it's ugly and raw and you can't stop it.
"but you never—you never talked to me—"
"because i didn't trust myself." his other hand comes up to cup your cheek. "because i knew if i started, i wouldn't be able to stop."
"then don't stop."
the words leave your mouth before you can think. they hang in the air, bold and desperate.
"don't stop," you repeat. "please. i don't want you to stop."
sukuna goes still. so still that you wonder if he's stopped breathing.
"you don't know what you're asking."
"i do." you reach up, your fingers finding his face. you trace the planes of his cheeks, the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips. "you're my husband. i want you. all of you."
"i'll hurt you."
"i don't care."
"i'll break you."
"i don't care."
his breath hitches. and then, finally, finally, his lips crash against yours.
the kiss is desperate. hungry. it tastes like three months of longing, of confusion, of aching loneliness. his hand fists in your hair, pulling you closer, and you gasp against his mouth. his tongue slides against your lower lip, asking for entry, and you give it willingly.
he tastes like sake and power and something darker. something that makes your toes curl and your heart race.
he pulls back, breathless.
"tell me to stop, and i will."
"don't," you say immediately. "don't stop."
he groans. his hands slide down your back, gripping your hips, and he lays you down on the bed. you fall against the silk sheets, your hair spreading around you like a halo. you can't see him, but you can feel him—his weight on the bed, his heat surrounding you, his breath ghosting across your skin.
"m'gonna show you," he says, his voice low and rough. "m'gonna kiss every inch of your body. gonna taste you until you scream my name. i want to make you feel so good that you forget every single doubt you've ever had about yourself."
your breath catches. "ryomen—"
"let me." his lips brush against your neck. "let me show you how much i love you."
you nod, unable to speak.
his hands find the tie of your robe. he undoes it slowly, reverently, like he's unwrapping a gift he's been waiting centuries to open. the fabric falls away, cool air hitting your skin, and you shiver.
"beautiful," he breathes. "so fucking beautiful."
you feel his lips on your collarbone. soft. worshipful. he kisses down your chest, his tongue tracing a path between your breasts. his hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples, and you gasp.
"sensitive," he murmurs. "good. i'll remember that."
he takes one nipple into his mouth. his tongue circles the peak, slow and deliberate, and you arch into him with a desperate moan. he laves at you, sucking gently, nipping with his teeth until you're writhing beneath him.
"more," you gasp. "please—"
"patience." his voice is a dark promise. "i haven't even started with ya' yet."
he switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention. his hand slides down your stomach, fingers tracing patterns on your skin, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. you're already wet—embarrassingly wet—and he lets out a low growl when he feels it.
"fuck," he mutters against your skin. "you're soaked. f'me?"
"yes," you whimper. "only you."
he groans. his fingers slide through your folds, collecting your wetness, and you buck into his touch.
"tell me what you want."
"i want—" you gasp as his thumb circles your clit. "m'want your mouth."
his laugh is dark and breathless. "demanding little thing, aren't ya'?"
"please," you beg. "ryo, please—"
"shh." he kisses your stomach. "i'll give ya' what y'want."
he moves down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire. he kisses your hips, your thighs, the inside of your knees. by the time he reaches your core, you're trembling, desperate, aching.
and then his tongue touches you.
you cry out, your hands flying to his hair. he laps at you like a man starved, his tongue sliding through your folds, circling your clit, dipping inside you. he moans against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.
"taste s'good," he mutters against your skin. "could eat ya' forever."
he sucks your clit into his mouth, and you scream. your hips buck against his face, but he holds you down, his massive hands gripping your thighs. he alternates between sucking and licking, building a rhythm that has you climbing higher and higher.
"that's it," he praises. "let go f'me...lemme taste ya'."
his fingers find your entrance, sliding inside you without warning. two fingers, thick and long, stretching you. he curls them, hitting a spot that makes you see stars, and you shatter.
you come with a scream of his name, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you. he doesn't stop. he laps at you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're sobbing from the intensity.
when you finally come down, he crawls up your body, his lips finding yours. you taste yourself on his tongue, and it's the most intimate thing you've ever experienced.
"m-more," you whisper. "m'want more."
his eyes—you can feel them—search your face.
"are you sure? we can stop. we can—"
"i'm sure." you reach for him, your fingers finding his chest. "i want you...please."
he hesitates. you feel the tension in his muscles, the restraint he's barely holding onto.
"m'bigger than ya'," he says, matter of factly. "a lot bigger. and i have...i have two dicks, woman. i don't know if—"
"i don't care." you pull him closer. "i trust you."
he groans, pressing his forehead against yours.
"if it hurts too much, tell me. and i'll stop."
"okay."
"promise me."
"i promise."
he shifts above you, and you feel something heavy and thick press against your thigh. and then another. two cocks. the thought should terrify you, but instead, it sends a thrill through your body.
he aligns himself with your entrance, and you feel the tip pressing against you. he's huge—so much bigger than his fingers—and you wonder if you can actually take him.
"relax f'me," he murmurs. "breathe."
you inhale deeply, and he pushes in.
just the tip, and you gasp. he's stretching you in a way that's almost unbearable. it hurts. there's a burning sensation, a pressure that's too much and not enough.
"shh," he soothes. "you're doing s'well. so good f'me."
he pushes deeper, inch by agonizing inch. you feel your body struggling to accommodate him, your walls clenching around his length. and then—
a sharp pain.
fuck...you forgot.
you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders. he stops immediately.
"did i hurt ya'?"
you can't answer. the pain is fading, replaced by a strange fullness. you feel something wet trickle down your thigh. warm. sticky.
blood.
his eyes slowly flicker down, and you can hear his breath stop. he's tense. too tense.
"fuck," he hisses. "you're—you're a fuckin' virgin?"
you nod weakly, biting your lip. your heart is pounding fast. loud. "is that...bad?"
"no." his voice is strained. "no, it's not bad. i just—fuck—i didn't know. i would have been more careful, woman."
"you are being careful," you whisper, fingers pressing into his shoulders "keep going."
"you're fuckin' bleeding."
"i don't care. please. i want to feel you." you sniffle. god, the pleasure is making you bold. too fucking bold.
he lets out a shaky breath. "you're going to kill me."
but he pushes deeper, slower this time. gentler. his lips find yours, kissing you softly as he sinks into you. the pain fades, replaced by a deep, aching fullness that makes you moan.
when he's fully sheathed, he stops. lets you adjust. his forehead presses against yours, his breath ragged.
"y'feel incredible," he breathes. "so tight. so...fuck...perfect."
"move," you beg. "please."
he pulls out slowly, then pushes back in. the friction is delicious, the stretch exquisite. he sets a rhythm—slow, deep, deliberate—each thrust hitting a spot that makes you see stars.
"ryomen," you gasp. "r-ryo—"
"i know," he murmurs. "i know, doll. feels s'good, doesn't it?"
"yes—yes—"
his hand slides down your stomach, pressing against the slight bulge where he's buried inside you. the feeling makes you moan.
"look at that," he says, awe in his voice. "you can feel me, can't ya'? right here."
he presses down, and you feel it—the outline of him inside you. it's obscene. it's incredible.
"more," you gasp. "harder—"
"y'sure?"
"yes—please—"
he obliges. his pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent. the bed creaks beneath you, the sound mixing with your moans and his grunts.
"gonna come," he warns. "where do you want it?"
"inside," you gasp. "please—i want to feel you—"
he groans, his hips slamming into yours. and then he's coming, hot and thick, filling you so completely. you feel it—his release pouring into you, painting your walls, claiming you from the inside. his cum is already trickling down your thigh, oozing out of your cunt.
at the same time, he's stroking his other cock. you feel the wet spurts hit your stomach, warm and sticky.
he collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you. his face buries in your neck, and you feel his breath, ragged and uneven.
"i love you," he whispers, gruff. it's funny. you've always thought the word love doesn't exist in his vocabulary. but here he is, saying it over and over again. "i love you so much it terrifies me."
you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer.
"i love you too."
a long moment passes. then another. and then—
"we're going to do that again."
you laugh, breathless.
"right now?"
"after i clean you up." he kisses your neck. "and then again. and again. and again. until ya' can't walk."
"promise?"
he pulls back, and even though you can't see him, you know he's smirking.
"promise."
you're already half asleep when he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapped around you like he's afraid you'll disappear. his lips press against your hair, your forehead, your eyelids.
"my wife," he murmurs. "my perfect, beautiful wife."
ryomen sukuna proves he can treat you better than your asshole bf
ryomen sukuna does not concern himself with the miserable dwellings of day to day life of peasants (aka his frat buddies)
he parties,he gyms, he balls. he looks good and smells good and keeps his women limited to strict one night schedules.
he doesn't give two shits about who's fucking whom and whichever latest breakups circulating around campus. and he definitely doesn't keep track of his friends' girlfriends.
except when he spotted you one night , sitting in one corner of the raging neon lit room , fiddling with your fingers as you watched your boyfriend dance with other women .
sukuna told himself he didn't care about how your smile kept faltering or how sad your eyes looked.
yet, he never wanted to punch a man to oblivion so much than at that moment. he reigned himself in that night.
but the next time when he saw your crestfallen expression when your asshole boyfriend dismissed your homecooked lunch before the entire team , sukuna lost it.
so yeah. he did punch his teammate and frat mate to oblivion.
the rest was easy and quick. some bruises here and there. a little blood. but his favourite part was hearing your shy mouth yell "fuck you , you bastard" on your boyfriends bloody and beaten face (courtesy of him)
but sukuna's life somehow became even more convoluted after that.
his eyes track the slight colouring of your cheeks , the way your gaze darts away from his as you mutter a shy "thank you" .
the sweet scent of your shampoo lingers in his nose when you pass by him in the corridors. his mind replays the small smile you gave him when he crossed paths with you, in the dark quiet of his room.
days escalate to weeks and he finds himself sitting on the bleachers after practice, eating from the cute pink bento you prepared for him as he listens to you read out a line from your favourite book.
he surprises himself when he throws away his entire stash of cigarettes after you tell him one afternoon that you dislike the smell of them.
as autumn approaches, sukuna finds himself before you , pink cheeked, handing you the books he picked out in hopes that you would enjoy them.
ryomen sukuna did not care about feelings . he never bothered to question his own lack of them. but then how was he supposed to justify the way his heart beat stuttered when you placed a soft, barely there kiss on his cheek after he walked you to your apartment?
ryomen sukuna did not bother with cheek kisses. he was rough and in the bed,took from the women what he wanted.
and you were the antagonist of everything he was accustomed to. because it wasn't rough and hard and frantic when it came to you. hell, he hadn't even tasted your lips, and somehow sex hadn't even crossed his mind.
he was willing to take even the tiniest bit of affection you showed him. and somehow it was enough for him.
with you it was lingering fingers, and soft glances. easy smiles and reading poetry. eating sundaes at 10pm under the streetlights .
and when he realised that he looked forward to hearing your soft voice as you read to him, and eating your handcooked meals instead of his bland protein shakes and walking you home as the lamposts cast a warm glow on your skin—sukuna realised that he was utterly fucked.
because, as much as he wanted to deny it, he was no fool.
