୨୧ — When his daughter brings home her first potential boyfriend at fifteen, Sukuna doesn't say a word. He simply sits across from the terrified boy at the kitchen table, his fork clinking against the plate, the sound sharp in the tense air. The entire time, he maintains unblinking eye contact while you attempt to salvage the rest of the dinner conversation with meaningless small talk.
After about twenty minutes, Sukuna finally speaks, "You touch her wrong, they won't find enough of you to bury. Got it, boy?" The boy is out the door just as you bring out the dessert, and your daughter doesn't speak to her father for three days. But when rumors start to circulate that the same boy pressured another girl into something she didn't want, his daughter quietly finds him outside sipping on his favorite whiskey.
Sitting next to him -her shoulder pressed against his-, she whispers, "How did you know?" Sukuna just shrugs, but there's understanding in the silence between them. After that, she doesn't fight his "inspections" quite so hard. He's always been her protector after all.
︵︵︵ ๑❤︎๑ ︵︵︵
୨୧ — During a parent teaching conference, his daughter’s literature teacher suggests she might be "troubled"… due to her persistent interest in writing dark, violent stories… The teachers eyes flicker towards Sukuna’s tattoos and scars, suggesting it might be due to the home environment.
Wrong choice of words.
Before you can intervene, Sukuna leans forward and asks with a deadly calm, "You ever read Dostoyevsky? The fucking Bible?"
The teacher nods, shrinking back in his seat…
"All full of violence. All considered genius. My daughter’s writing isn’t the problem." His voice never rises, but the temperature in the room seems to drop a whole ten degrees as he continues. "Your small mind is."
Two weeks later, your daughter rushes home holding her regional writing trophy. Sukuna has her piece professionally framed and hung in the living room next day.
Because at the end of the day, that’s still his little girl.
he's had his nose buried in textbooks for the last two hours, droning incoherently to himself about quantum physics or his latest assignment. exam season's been draining the life out of your tall nerd of a boyfriend, insatiably sucking the devotion to his studies from his very veins.
thus, he's given up. spinning in his desk chair, he finds himself staring at you, his angel sprawled ever so beautifully on his bed, in his dorm room. his perfect reprieve.
“babe. you’re staring again.” you mutter, blowing a bubble with your gum before popping it between your molars, dragging your gaze from your phone to your boyfriend’s face.
yeah, he’s weird.
his cerulean irises are swallowed by his dilated pupils from behind his glasses, gaze fixed straight on your lips. he doesn’t even blink. you’re not sure if he even has in the last five minutes.
then, he moves, sitting on the foot of his bed, his hands reaching out to gently rub up and down your thighs, absentmindedly feeling. memorising the weight of your flesh in his palms.
“is that a new gloss? lip stain? lipstick?” his eyes don’t stray away from your mouth. “lip plumper? or like.. a lip oil?”
“you don’t even know what half of those are.”
“don’t need to. they all make you look pretty, so they’re working.”
you roll your eyes, setting your phone aside on your bedside table before shifting to cup his cheeks. unintentionally, your fingers brush the longer white hairs at the nape of his neck, to which he shivers sensitively. you run your fingertips along his cheekbones, watching as his eyelashes flutter in response to your touch behind his glasses.
"what happened to studying, baby?" you murmur, carrying an awfully mock-sympathetic lilt to your voice, expecting a reply.
yet, his gaze never once leaves your lips.
“satoru, you keep staring at my lips.” you raise a brow at his lack of reply, smushing his cheeks together in reprisal, earning you a displeased grunt, but no sign of denial.
“mm, yeah. guilty.” he sighs softly, eyes squinting in concentration. you fight the urge to snort.
then, he moves. he crawls between your legs, dropping his chin on your chest, the plushness of your chest cushioning the fall.
for a second, his hands settle on your waist, dipping under the hem of your shirt to cover as much skin as he can, before they slide up to your jaw. his fingertips bury themselves in your hair, tangling in the strands to find purchase.
“can i kiss you?” satoru whispers, finally tearing his gaze away from your lips to meet your eyes, his thin white brows pulling into a soft frown.
aw. you nearly melt.
he looks like he needs it.
when you don’t reply, his frown deepens. he bites the inside of his cheek, gathering the strength to ask again.
he's a little pathetic, you can't help but feel bad.
“baby..” he whispers, voice carrying that familiar breathless whine.
ah, hell.
you offer a small, drawn-out hum for the sole purpose of torturing him further, one that he eats up desperately in hopes for a proper response. he echoes the soft hum subconsciously, craning his head just slightly closer. enough to have the tips of your noses touching.
"okay," you smile, coy and saccharine before leaning in.
as soon as the word leaves your lips, satoru presses his lips to yours and seals the permission between you. inadvertently, you breathlessly laugh against his mouth, and he groans, displeased with your flippancy.
you take pity on him, however, and kiss him properly. your neck mirrors his earlier crane, nose bumping against his as you switch position to steer the kiss. it's slow, sweet, and needy, driven by a lazy messiness only a burnt-out satoru can offer.
the bridge of your nose touches cool metal a couple times before you register his wire-rimmed glasses. without giving it much thought, you pull back. you push his glasses to his forehead, simultaneously using it to brush his soft tufts of hair back, before kissing him again.
a hand to his jaw, the other on his chest, satoru is kissed stupid. the pressure of your lips is the only feeling he wants to remember, physics be damned.
he chases your lips desperately for a few more beats before whining from low in his throat when you pull back. there's a satisfied smile on your face, but it only makes him physically deflate.
"s'not enough," he slurs (courtesy of your kiss), leaning forward slightly too fast and causing his glasses to drop back down on the bridge of his nose, his frown deepening. ".. come back, angel."
if possible, your smile widens.
"you can get another when you finish studying. your final's in a week."
"you just-- baby-- you can't do that!" he sputters, groaning when you deny him. his large hands slide down to your hips, absently squeezing the flesh. "come on, just one more."
"finish studying. I promise I'll give you more after an hour." you mirror his pout, raising a hand to ruffle his hair.
you're not even surprised anymore. two minutes later, your boyfriend's hunched over his desk again, reciting ridiculously long formulas to a polaroid of you on his wall.
𝓲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ♰ when you finally decide to flirt back after years of brushing off sukuna’s teasing, he quickly discovers he can’t handle a taste of his own medicine.
✿ ◞◟) ryomen sukuna 𝓍 gn!reader
𝓬𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 fluff, college!au, established friendship, uno reverse card flirting, sukuna is really pathetic, lovestruck behavior, yearning hidden under friendship (?), sukuna is blushing.
part two.
the afternoon light coming through sukuna's apartment windows was that tired golden color, the kind that made everything look a little too soft and a little too warm for a tuesday that felt like a thursday.
you were sprawled on the pink haired boy’s worn-out leather couch with your laptop balanced on your thighs, trying to finish a reading assignment that had no business being this dense, while sukuna sat on the floor across from you with his back against the coffee table, his phone in one hand and a half-empty energy drink in the other.
sukuna's tattoos stretched across his forearms every time he moved to scroll through whatever mindless content he seemed to be invested in, those familiar dark lines shifting over muscle and bone like they'd always been there, like they were just another part of him you'd stopped really noticing years ago. the four-eyes motif on his biceps caught the light when sukuna leaned forward to set his drink down, and you watched him crack his neck in that lazy way he always did when he was bored, the movement causing his jaw to flex once before he settled back against the table leg.
"you're staring," sukuna said without looking up from his phone, and there it was — that particular tilt to his mouth, the one that meant he was about to make things annoying on purpose. "didn't know my forearms were that interesting, sweetheart. could've just asked for a closer look."
you didn't even blink.
"your forearms are fine, kuna. i was actually staring at the window behind you because there's a really weird-looking bird right on the fire escape."
sukuna finally looked up, one dark eyebrow raised, and he turned his head toward the window just to check. when he saw nothing there, his gaze slid back to you with that familiar mixture of amusement and mild offense.
"you're lying."
"oh, am i?" you clicked back to your reading assignment, highlighting a sentence you'd already highlighted twice. "bird must've flown away. tragic timing, really."
sukuna laughed once, short and sharp, and went back to his phone, but you knew damn well he wasn't done; sukuna was never done when he was bored and you were the only person in the room. it was like a game for him, or maybe like a compulsion — throwing out these little flirtatious comments just to see if he could get a reaction, any reaction, even though he'd known you for long enough to understand that you'd stopped reacting to that particular brand of nonsense somewhere around year two of your friendship.
"you know," he said after a moment, dragging the words out like he was savoring them. "most people would at least pretend to be flattered. but you just sit there like a brick wall with a laptop. it's kind of insulting, honestly."
"i'll try to care about your feelings more," you said flatly, not looking up. "let me just find that emotion real quick."
sukuna kicked at your foot with his own, just a light tap of his sneaker against your socked heel.
"you're the worst."
"you're the one who keeps flirting with a brick wall. that sounds like a you problem."
sukuna grinned at that, wide and sharp and entirely unbothered, because this was simply how things worked between the two of you; he'd flirt, you'd deflect, he'd laugh, and then five minutes later he'd ask if you wanted to order food or complain about his stats professor or show you some ridiculous video he found at two in the morning.
it was comfortable, it was routine, and it meant exactly nothing, and you both knew it.
but today, something about the light and the quiet and the way sukuna was sitting there looking entirely too pleased with himself made you feel like switching things up.
just a little.
just to see what would happen.
you set your laptop aside slowly, making a show of closing the screen and placing it on the cushion next to you, and then you turned your body toward him.
sukuna was already watching you with that lazy curiosity he always got when you deviated from your usual patterns, his phone completely forgotten in his hand, and you let your gaze drag over him in a way you never actually did — leisurely and meticulous, like you were taking your time with something you'd been saving for later.
his eyebrows pulled together just slightly. "what?"
"nothing," you said, and you let your voice drop just enough to change the texture of it, to make it softer and slower than your usual flat delivery. "just looking."
you watched the confusion flicker across sukuna's face, quick and genuine, because this wasn't how the script went;
you weren't supposed to look at him like that. you weren't supposed to sound like that. and you sure as hell weren't supposed to slide off the couch to sit on the floor next to him, close enough that your shoulder almost brushed his, close enough that you could smell whatever cheap cologne he'd grabbed off his dresser this morning.
sukuna's hand tightened around his phone.
"okay. you're being weird."
"am i?" you echoed your earlier words back at him, tilting your head just slightly, and you let your fingers rest on the floor between you — not touching him, not yet, but close enough that the proximity felt intentional. "i thought this was what you wanted, kuna. you're always saying all that stuff. figured i'd finally give you a response."
sukuna's throat moved as he swallowed, and you could see the moment his brain started scrambling to catch up with what was happening. the confidence he normally wore like armor seemed to flicker, just for a second, and his gaze dropped to your hand on the floor before snapping back to your face.
"that's—" he started, and then stopped, and you'd never seen sukuna stumble over a word in your entire friendship. "i mean, yeah, but—you don't actually—"
"don't actually what?"
you leaned in just a little, and you watched the tips of sukuna's ears go pink. his ears, of all things. the same sukuna who could make a waiter uncomfortable by accident just by existing was sitting here with pink ears because you'd leaned about four inches closer to him.
"don't actually find you attractive? because i never said that."
sukuna's mouth opened, then closed, and then opened again, and absolutely nothing came out except this small, strangled sound that might have been the beginning of a laugh or the end of his dignity.
you could feel the heat coming off his arm where it was braced on the coffee table, you could see the way his chest had started rising and falling just a little faster than before. his tattoos seemed to move with every small shift of his muscles, the dark lines pulling and relaxing as he failed spectacularly to figure out what the hell to do with his hands.
"you're messing with me," sukuna said finally, and his voice literally cracked on the last word.
ryomen sukuna's voice cracked like he was fourteen years old and talking to his first crush, and you had to physically bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too obviously.
"am i?" you asked again, softer this time, and you let your finger trace a small, idle pattern on the floor between you; not toward him, not away from him — just there, like you were thinking about it. "i don't know. maybe i just got tired of you being the only one who gets to have fun."
sukuna's blush was spreading now, crawling down his neck in splotchy patches that disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt, and he was gripping his phone like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
you could see his pulse beating in his throat, quick and uneven, and his eyes kept darting between your face and the small space between your bodies like he was trying to calculate something he didn't have the formula for.
"this isn't—" sukuna started, and then he had to stop to clear his throat, and the sound was embarrassingly loud in the quiet apartment. "this isn't funny."
"i'm not laughing."
"you're definitely laughing on the inside. i can tell. your eye is doing that thing."
you blinked innocently. "what thing?"
"the thing where you're being an asshole and enjoying it."
but sukuna's voice was way too high to land the way he wanted it to, too breathy to sound like anything other than a man who was rapidly losing control of a situation he'd assumed he'd always be in charge of. his leg was bouncing now, that restless energy he got when he was nervous translating into small, jerky movements that he probably didn't even realize he was making.
you let the silence stretch, you let him sit in the discomfort of not knowing what came next, and you watched as he absolutely failed to fill it with one of his usual easy quips.
sukuna's brain was working overtime behind his eyes, you could easily tell — trying to figure out if you were serious, if this was a joke, if he was supposed to laugh it off or lean into it or run in the opposite direction.
finally, he did the last thing you expected.
he looked away.
sukuna actually looked away, his jaw tightening as he turned his face toward the window, and you could see the way his hand shook just slightly when he reached up to rub at the back of his neck. the movement made his sleeve ride up, exposing more of those dark lines, and you noticed the way his fingers trembled against his own skin.
"you're doing this on purpose," he muttered, and his voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear it. "you're trying to—i don't know what you're trying to do, but you're doing it on purpose."
"maybe," you said, and you let yourself smile then, just a small one, because he looked so genuinely thrown off that it was actually kind of endearing underneath all the hilarity. "maybe i just wanted to see what would happen."
sukuna turned back to look at you, and his eyes were wide in a way you'd never seen before — less of the sharp, amused glint he usually carried and more of something raw and uncertain, like a door you'd accidentally nudged open that he'd been keeping firmly closed. his blush had settled into something deeper now, staining his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, and his lips were parted just slightly like he was still trying to figure out how to breathe normally.
"well," he said, and his voice cracked again, softer this time, almost fragile. "are you happy? because i'm—i'm not—this is—"
sukuna gave up on words entirely and just gestured vaguely at himself, at his flushed face and his bouncing leg and his white-knuckled grip on his phone, and the gesture said everything sukuna's his voice couldn't.
you laughed then, not meanly, just a warm exhale of a sound, and you bumped your shoulder against his gently.
"yeah," you said, your voice back to normal now, dropping the flirtatious edge entirely. "i'm pretty happy, actually."
sukuna stared at you for a long moment, his chest still rising and falling too quickly, and then he dropped his head back against the coffee table and made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a whine.
"i hate you," he said to the ceiling. "i genuinely hate you. you're the worst person i've ever met."
"you're blushing."
"shut up, i'm not blushing. my face is just warm. from the—it's warm in here."
"it's twenty-one degrees in here."
"shut up."
sukuna didn't move his head from the coffee table, but his large hand found your knee — just a brief, clumsy tap before retreating, like he'd meant to do something else and changed his mind at the last second. his fingers were warm through the fabric of your jeans, and you could still feel the slight tremor in them even after he pulled away.
you sat there together in the golden afternoon light, the silence softer now than it had been before, and you watched as sukuna slowly, painfully tried to collect himself.
his ears were still pink, his breathing was still uneven, and every few seconds, his gaze would slide toward you and then snap away again, like looking at you for too long might somehow make things worse.
it was, without a single question, the most pathetic you had ever seen him.
"sooo," you said after a while, keeping your voice light and easy. "you want to order that thai place, or are you too busy being embarrassed to eat?"
sukuna lifted his head just enough to glare at you, but the effect was ruined by the fact that he still looked like he'd just run a marathon in a sauna.
"i'm not embarrassed."
"okay."
"i'm not. i just wasn't expecting—" sukuna stopped, swallowed, tried again. "you don't just—you never—"
"never what?"
he held your gaze for a long, charged moment, and something in his expression flickered — some thought you couldn't quite read, some emotion the pink haired boy shoved back down before it could fully surface. then he looked away once again, reaching for his abandoned energy drink like it might offer him some kind of salvation.
"nothing," he said quietly. "forget it. thai sounds fine."
sukuna didn't flirt with you for the rest of the evening.
not once.
and if you caught him staring at you when he thought you weren't looking, his expression soft and confused and a little bit scared like he'd just discovered something he didn't know how to name — well, you didn't mention that either.
♡ ⸝⸝ frat!gojo wants you to be his again ! ❤︎₊ ⊹ ft fetty wap on a jbl speaker
it was late. after studying, you had crawled into bed thirty minutes ago in hopes to catch some sleep. your final exam for bio was tomorrow and your anxiety was eating away at your stomach. the past half hour of tossing and turning was starting to get to you. you needed to get some sleep, and fast. you exhaled as a wave of drowsiness hit you. your eyes fluttered shut. finally, you thought. you snuggled in your blankets and began to drift off.
your window of sleep lasted all but five minutes. you woke up startled as you heard loud music blasting. the vibrations somehow made it through the walls. you rubbed your eyes and looked around in confusion. your roommate wasn’t in her bed, she was probably at her boyfriend’s. that’s when you realized the source of loud music was coming from outside your window.
crawling out of bed, you decided to investigate. you pulled back the curtains and looked down. to your demise, you saw your ex boyfriend, satoru gojo, standing outside your window holding up a JBL speaker. “again” by fetty wap blared from the large speaker.
“i want you to be mine again, bae-be!” satoru screeched, completely off tune. you winced and groaned softly, the sharp sound ringing in your ears. he cannot be serious. it was 2am and finals week, someone was bound to curse him out for causing a commotion this late.
“i know my lifestyle is driving you cray-zay…but i cannot see myself without you,” he continued. you were too tired to scream or shout, but you had to shut him up somehow. you opted for throwing his hoodie at him. you launched it at him with as much force as you could muster in your current state. it hit his chest, distracting him and making him lose his place in the song. he mumbled the lyrics before catching up.
“i go out of my way to please you, i go out of my way to see you!” he shouted. god, he didn’t know when to quit. that was the last of his things you had, you didn’t know what else to throw. scanning your room, you came up empty. guess you were going to have to be the one to cuss him out.
“shut up the fuck up! gosh!” you shouted at him. you still felt groggy, but you had to get him out of here.
he ignored your request and started to dance along. you rolled your eyes at his goofy little two step. he looked absolutely ridiculous, but didn’t seem to care at all.
“and i want you to be mine again, bae-by, i know my lifestyle is drivi—ow!” the dumbass yelped as he accidentally dropped the 30 pound speak on his head.
you snorted as he rubbed his head and fought back tears. a genuine laugh bubbled out of you at the sight. he glanced up at you once more and the idiot smiled.
“oh how i’ve missed hearing that sweet sound.” he beamed at you. a red bump was starting to form on his head where you assumed the speaker had hit him. what a lunatic.
you immediately frowned. “stop being corny and go home!” you whisper shouted. the music had finally stopped—satoru’s thick skull must have broken the speaker—so you were trying to be mindful of your volume.
“huh?? i can’t hear you speak up.” he put his hand to his ear and looked at you expectantly. you rolled your eyes and whisper shouted again, slightly louder this time.
“go. home.”
it was his turn to frown. “what? no! i’m not leaving until you take me back. i promise, i won’t distract you from your studies anymore.”
you scoffed. “a boyfriend is a distraction by default, satoru. don’t be dense. go home, aren’t you tired?”
“tired of living without you, yeah,” he replied swiftly.
you scoffed. he was corny, yes, but the gesture was sweet. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. he didn’t necessarily do anything wrong either, he had been your sweet little himbo of a boyfriend, always there for you when you needed him.
maybe it was the fact you were exhausted. maybe it was the rose colored glasses that you definitely had on because of his rom com esque gesture. maybe it was just what’s been hiding in your heart. whatever it was, you gestured for him to come up.
his cerulean eyes widened and he grinned from ear to ear. “really?!?”
“don’t make me regret it,” you grumped.
he scurried off the lawn, and headed up, leaving his speaker behind. when he got your door, he practically suffocated you with a bear hug. you hugged him back, relishing in his warmth.
“i missed you. i love you.” he whispered into your hair. you couldn’t help but smile at his confession.
“i missed you too ‘toru.” he kissed your cheek and moved to reach your lips, but you stopped him.
holding up your finger to his lips, you glared at him.
I have said it before on many occasions but it's worth reminding people that Sylus is a WHORE. And I love it.
He gives major fuck you in the bathroom on the first date before dessert arrives energy.
Think about it.
In his vampire myth, this man was ten seconds in from meeting MC and had every single intention to kill her and he STILL made out with her. Zero memory who she is, ready to impale her to death after bleeding her dry and has the audacity to be like “hold on, give me a kiss real quick,” LMAO!
In his dragon myth when MC was sneaking him, and she started acting like she was trying to fuck cause she feels bored did you see the look on his face? He was down!
I'm convinced if it wasn't for her hating his guts on sight in main story, because despite that she does admit he is hot as fuck so I KNOW he would have taken her amnesia having ass to base and slutted her out regardless. All she had to do was say when.
Nobody can tell me otherwise.
Sylus is easy. And I love that about him.
Fake sleeping so he can get handcuffed to his bed wearing nothing but a silk robe.
Just stamp the words “Fuck me whenever” on your forehead Onychinus leader cause we all see you're about that life.
♡ ⸝⸝ post nut clarity w satoru 🤫 ! ❤︎₊ ⊹
cw: suggestive ⸝⸝ fluff
“holy shit.”
satoru let his head fall against the pillow with a soft thud, closing his eyes as he exhaled. his white hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and his chest heaved with each breath.
“i know,” you murmured. you brought your hand to your face and sighed softly.
“that was… i don’t even have words, i—” he trailed off, shaking his head.
then, without warning:
“i think i wanna marry you.”
suddenly, you were wide awake.
you blinked at him. "what?"
the words barely processed in your head. your mind still felt foggy from your orgasm, so the last thing you expected to hear was this.
“marry me,” he repeated, rolling onto his side to face you. a lazy grin tugged at his lips. “so we can do that a hundred more times.”
you stared into his eyes, searching for any sign that this was some sort of sick joke.
“you don’t mean that.” you chuckled awkwardly, averting your gaze.
“i do.” he said firmly. “this is not me officially asking but…" his voice softened "i just had to say it.”
without a word, you rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. your heart was racing as his confession sunk in. marriage? he wanted to get married? the thought alone made your stomach twist in knots.
after a beat, he whispered, “well...what do you say?” his voice quivered and you realized—satoru was scared.
you felt kind of bad for him. poor guy probably didn't even realize what he'd let it slip until it was too late. even though the idea of marriage frightened you a little, you turned to face him, a quiet smile breaking through.
a/n : pure smut im sorry...first time with sukuna after dating for a while / virgin reader / college sukuna. this was in my mind the entire week because i was ovulating thats it. HALP
wc : 5.5k
“A-are we really doing this?” You shyly hold onto Sukuna’s corded neck with a stubborn grip, hesitant to lower down against the bed.
Nervous, you bite your lip to calm yourself down. After all, you’re the one who invited him inside after your date, flirting too close to the sun. A few exchange of words and Sukuna was in a rush to leave, afraid he wouldn’t be able to contain himself in the confinement of your room, but then you pulled him by the hem of his shirt with wobbly knees and shaky fingers, his eyes twitch.
“If you don’t want to, you can always say no.” Sukuna hums, laying you down like a fragile flower. He runs his hands along the length of your thigh, smiling wolfishly when you shiver and close your legs.
Pulling off his shirt, Sukuna lets your hands touch on his tattoos, smugly showing off his muscles and wink nonchalantly. You giggle and he leans down on his elbows, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.
Soft giggles morph into lewd noises of embarrassed pleasure when his sniffs turn into hot licks on your neck and nibbles on your collarbone. Impatient, Sukuna’s hands trail up your ribcage and snake under your filmsy tank top that he can rip apart with ease, but he doesn’t, just to tease himself with your skin.
“So soft.” His large, rough hands finally reached their destination on your breasts. Soft, pillowy and spilling out between the gaps of his fingers, he squeezes and kneads. You cover your mouth to hold in a moan.
With a frown, he grabs your wrists away with a shake to his head, his freehand pushing her tank top and bra up above your chest.
“Nice boobs.” He says flatly, staring at your hard nipple.
“Stop, who even says it like that? So awkward.” You shiver and he laughs.
“What should I have said then? Like the guy in that historical romance book you read?” He chuckles, “What did he say again? Your bosoms are exquisite baby.” He imitates a lousy accent and you smack his chest in embarrasment.
“Still awkward!” You complain.
“I’ll show you awkward.” He says before he dives down to latch onto your right nipple, sucking and swirling his pierced tongue over it. The cold from the steel and heat from his saliva was driving you delirious and helpless, pulling his hair and whining for mercy. Now that’s awkward. You choke on your own moan.
Sukuna likes to stare. The most simple way to put it. His eyes are locked on your jaw, your nose, the flutter of your eyes everytime he swirls his tongue, biting your nipple gently and then pull it between his teeth to make you plead for release. He’s pretty sure the growing heat he’s feeling inside his body is heading down south to his leaking cock.
Releasing you nipple with a wet pop, his saliva trail follows down as he kisses down your middle to your bellybutton. Another kiss and wide lick at your womb, he goes further down, fingers pullling your shorts down your legs.
All the while, You whine and hold onto his messy pink hair. Too short to pull, just enough to yank. Noticing Sukuna heading downwards for your cunt, you close your legs with haste, cheeks red.
“Y-you don’t have to…"
“I want to. I’m better than everyone before me. I gurantee it.” He announces confidently before trying to go down again, but you yank his hair back up, frantic with embarrassment.
“N-no…I’m serious. I’ve never done this before…” You sniffle.
“What? No one ever gone down on you?” Sukuna almost sounds offended that your previous lovers did not want to indulge in the taste of you.
You nod, and he huffs.
“That’s fine. I’ll be the first and the last to enjoy this pussy-”
“I mean, technically you are my first…”
Sukuna’s head snaps up to meet your gaze. His eyes wide with surprise and a sudden flash of primal lust. He crawls back up to come face to face with you, a question hanging off the tip of his tongue.
“You…Are you a virgin?” His voice almost sounded excited and morbidly frightened, something perverted and depraved coming out of his usual persona.
“Y-yes? Ya? Was it not…obvious?” Replying him awkwardly, you fidget with the waistband of your own panties, wondering what’s running through his mind right now. Surely he had to have picked up on your inexperience within these two months you’ve been dating, right? Unless he thinks highly of you to have bagged a few guys before him…?
But Sukuna is your first everything, though you’re not his first at all. Makes you a little upset that you weren’t experiencing each other for the first time. Would it have been more clumsy? More—
Your train of thought is cut short from Sukuna suddenly patting his hand down to cup your sex through your underwear, middle and ring finger pressing onto your hole through the fabric. Your hands shoot up to grab his forearm, trembling with shock.
“Hey-!” His fingers are so cold!
“Are you- Fuck, no one made you cum before?” His expression is worrying you, yet turning you on at the same time. He looks angry, paired with the sudden roughness he’s handling your cunt with, thumb rubbing furiously over your clothed clit. You nod with a soft breathy gasp, wishing he would slow down a little, but the pleasure is building up so fast.
“I’m gonna be the first to make you cum. I’m gonna be the first. Oh fuck.” Sukuna sounds like he’s going to cum just from thinking about it. His palm rubs faster over your underwear, thumb swerving left and right over your clit. All you can do is nod and mewl, letting the cold pleasure build until it tenses you up like a jolt.
“Why didn’t you tell me I’m your first? Am I your first boyfriend too? Fuck, the kiss that day was your first too?” Sukuna asks right into your face, mocking in the way he searches for your eyes despite how hazy and zoned out you look in your high. His hand doesn’t stop, rubbing you off, smearing the wetness on your underwear on your thigh as his hand works you stupid.
You remember that day a few weeks back where Sukuna had kissed you while he was fixing his car. Squatting, you were surprised he slid out from the bottom of his car, pulling off his glove to grab your neck, pulling you down into a kiss.
At the time, you didn’t think that’s how your first kiss would go. Messy and quick in his garage while he was lying on a creeper, fixing parts of his rundown Toyota. Then you realized, he didn’t know that was your first kiss. He had the urge to kiss you after you listened intently to him talking about the inside outs of his car. Perhaps he felt overwhelmed with apprieciation and affection that he had to kiss you.
“I-it’s not like you asked!” Whining, you slap at his arm to stop him from pushing you into overstimulation.
“Yeah, but I assumed you at least tried something adventurous in the past.” He keeps rubbing until you cry out again for him, and his dick jumps and twitches in his pants. His boxers are no doubt ruined, but he doesn’t care about that right now.
“Sukuna- wait I’m goin’ to-” Your second orgasm hurls you off the bed, scratching at his forearm and crying out all pathetic. He holds his hand down on your womb so you don’t run too far off.
“My poor, sweet, girl. No one’s ever made you cum all your life…” Sukuna murmurs to no one, staring at your writhing form on your bed, chest heaving and jaw agape for oxygen.
The truth is, he’s never had a girlfriend before either. Casual flings here and there, then he turned 26. Then you came barging into his life, quite literally, splashing a whole bowl of hot miso soup all over him at the canteen on campus.
Mortified, you profusely apologized while trying to yank off his soaked jersey. He fought against your grip, knowing he had a rugby match in an hour. He’s strong, you’re stubborn, then it rips.
He ran all the way back to his dorm cussing you out under his breath and played in his smaller, tighter old jersey that was cutting into his armpits.
“That was too much!” You shove at his arm, pouting slightly even when he kisses your cheek in apology. Sukuna admits he’s a little too jolly about the prospect of making his first girlfriend feel good. It’s special to him, special to you. He spanks your clothed clit and watch you squirm a bit more for his satisfaction.
“It’s fine, sweetheart. I need to make you reaaallly wet anyways. Before we do anything.” He smirks.
“How wet is reeaaaalllly wet?”
“I mean, about a good 3 orgasms? For a virgin?” He entertains your need for some kind of statistic, leaning his head down again at your chest to mouth at your breast.
Clutching onto the thin stands of his pink hair, your thighs rub together when Sukuna once again reaches down your mound. Hooking his fingers into your unsexy cotton panties that he finds endearing for some reason, you’re fully bared to him. Pulling you by your ankles, he dangles your legs on the edge of the bed.
“I didn’t shave…” It’s pretty silly of you to not have prepared before you invited him in, but it’s happening right now and it’s too late to grab a razor to try.
“Have you ever shaved before?” He asks, genuinely curious.
“No, never.” You shake your head meekly.
“Well, if your pubic hair doesn’t hinder you, you don’t need to shave it then.” He simply says, leaning in to brush his nose against the coarse hairs on your mound. You try to pull his head up, flustered, but he doesn’t budge, resting his mouth on your cunt and nose idly on your pubic hair.
“W-why are you just resting on my…” It’s ridiculous that Sukuna is treating your pelvic area like a pillow, resting his lips there. He wryly smirks and lock eyes with you, sensing your growing impatience.
“Want me to do something?” His lips move and speak against your clit, and you stifle a sweet whine. His breath is hot, and the sudden memory of his pierced tongue on your breast was making you grow wetter. His piercing would feel so good against your clit.
“Do something please…” You plea with furrowed brows.
“I’m awful without instructions. What do you want?” He coos with a smile.
“Put your…um, put your mouth on my down there…” You beg harder.
“Sweetheart you’re 24.” Unamused, he speaks again, ignoring how his warm breath was making your poor clit twitch.
“Okay! Okay! Please lick my pussy!” You squeal into your palms, face burning behind your hands. It’s so embarrassing to say it out loud.
Sukuna wastes no time and pushes his tongue against your clit. The hot pleasure mixed in with the flickering cold from his piercing jolts you all in the right spot. Your thighs clamp down on his ears instantly, a loud mewl escaping your throat. He swipes his tongue side to side and you jolt again.
“‘M gonna push a finger in.” His eyes meet your clouded ones, pushing in his middle finger slowly into your cunt. It hurts, so you fight back a little as Sukuna holds an arm over your pelvis to keep you down.
“Shh shh. I know it hurts, it’s gonna feel good in a moment. Wait.” Hollowing his cheeks, he sucks on your throbbing clit hard, easing out the painful pressure of his finger with the pleasure. He keeps sucking on your little nub while his finger pushes deeper in, his own hips rutting against the edge of the bed, desperate to find a relief that comes in the form of a warm, wet cavern.
“A-ahh…It feels weird…your finger is really thick…” You softly moan, scratching his scalp.
“Unfortunately I have to push in at least two fingers to prep you bit more.” The tone of his voice is low and raspy, like he’s also on the edge. Feeling bad, you yank his head away from you more. Sukuna looks confused, mouth coated in your slimey wetness. It makes you blush.
“W-why don’t you touch yourself while helping me?”
“I wanna make you cum first.” He earnestly speaks, licking his lips. It’s insane how hot he looks while looking so unkempt, but a part of you is aware that it’s a masculine appeal that he possess. Not too domineering, not too subserviant, just enough to be a tease. It’s so nice to have a boyfriend that likes you. It’s so nice to have a boyfriend. It’s so nice to have Sukuna.
“I-I want you to touch yourself too!” Not sure where you get the sudden courage from, but you dish out an order to the man between your legs, and he chuckles with a cocky raise of his brow.
“Sure. Anything you say goes.”
Putting his mouth back on you, Sukuna’s eyes flutter close, freehand shoving into his pants and down into his boxers, pulling his cock out to stroke it. Your whines grow louder as he continues to suck and lap at your clit, seemingly even faster and sloppier this time due to him fucking his own fist. Growing hazy and fucked out himself, Sukuna is practically making out with your pussy while trying to get himself to cum.
“O-oh my god Suk-Sukuna I’m-” You cum violently for the third time, legs locking his neck and rubbing yourself all over his face. He takes it with no complaint, grunting and groaning into your cunt, letting his nose bridge bump your clit at every roll.
“F-fuck-” The schlick sound of him stroking himself gets louder, and suddenly he stands up, staring straight into your eyes and busts his load all over your chest.
“Eeeee! Your kids!” You blurt out with a giggle, touching the translucent semen on your chest, spreading the sticky substance between your fingers.
“That’s surely the first time I’ve heard someone react that way to semen.” Sukuna pants with a lazy smile, squeezing his dick once more, a few more dribbles oozing out. He’s still semi-erect after cumming.
“I mean it’s technically sperm. Like…millions of em.”
“Okay miss biologist, come here.” Grabbing a towel from your nightstand, he gently wipes your chest, then leaning down to kiss you chest to chest.
You like kissing. Or maybe just kissing Sukuna. His tongue is really active compared to yours, shoving and trying to fuck your throat deeper every gasp. You’ve gotten used to the way he likes to nip your bottom lip, before sticking his tongue out so you suck on his tongue like a good girl. It’s odd how nice it is to suck on his tongue, you dare say you prefer doing this than sucking his thumb. But maybe you only feel this way because Sukuna likes to hold onto you jaw everytime you kiss.
His hand is big, and warm, and, and, and…eughh. His touch is as equally comforting as it’s sensual. When he held your jaw trying to inspect the little pimples on your skin during your breakouts, he’d coo that you’re a pitiful girl and he’d help you apply cream. Is it bad to admit you like being pampered and taken cared of by a big mean man of little words? With everyone else, he’s closed off like a lonewolf, but behind closed doors, he cradles you in his embrace and says you’re his sweet girl.
You’re 24. Not much of a girl anymore, and you’re not sure you’re as sweet as he thinks of you to be. Then he casually pushes his fingers into your wet cunt again and suddenly you think you must look sweet and willing to him.
His finger goes in easily this time, curling it against a gummy spot inside you and you gasp against his lips. He drops his head down to kiss and plant a hickey on your neck, attempting to distract you from the pain of the intrusion from his second finger.
“I don-I don’t think it’ll- it’s really really tight…” Your nails dig into his shoulder, muffling your voice against his pink unruly hair. The short spikes prick at your nose and tickles you a little.
“Yeah. You’re really tight, you have to relax. Think about something that relaxes you.” He mutters against your skin, one hand kneading your breast, the other still trying to push his fingers in.
“Um um um, lofi music! Ambient lighting!” You squeal, eyes squeezed shut.
“Uh-huh.” He hums.
“Eating tiramisu!”
“Right…”
“ Playing Tomodachi Life!”
“Uh, sweetheart you don’t have to say it out loud.” He laughs against your cheek and now you feel ridiculous and childish for ruining the mood. Just when you’re about to chide him for poking fun at you, he curls his fingers. You gasp. His fingers went in while you were blabbing about your nonsense.
Looking up at him like an abandoned cat in the rain, Sukuna smiles with a sickly sweet look on his face, then he curls his fingers once more, you moan uncontrollably into his chest.
“See? We’re getting somewhere. You’ve never had anything in there, right?” He mocks you with a patronizing tone, continuing to pump and curl his fingers into this particular spot inside you. It feels so much different than just rubbing on your clit. The feeling is more pointed, sharper inside you, forcing out lewd moans out your throat. Now you think you’re reduced to a common whore when you’re drooling on his tattooed chest.
Knees buckling, Sukuna is quick to wrap his arm around you to support you, laying you back down on the pillows, his fingers scissoring inside you.
“I-I legit feel like I-Imma explode.”
“You’re slurring your words.”
“S-sthop.”
“It’s a good thing.”
He says nothing afterwards and targets all his attention on your cunt, using his fingers to mess up all your insides. He curls and your head is thrown back. He scissors and your toes are tightly curled. Had you known fingering was this pleasurable, you would have tried it yourself sooner.
Picking up the pace, Sukuna’s fingerfucks you until you’re hurled over the edge again, you’ve lost count on how many times you’ve cum tonight. The scoreboard is Sukuna at 1 and you at 4, you think. How he’s not already asking you to take his cock in your mouth is astonishing to you. So patient.
“T-that was so good…”
“Bet it was.”
“I never tried doing it myself.”
“Well, I’m not sure if your fingers could reach as deep as mine did.” He pulls out from your wet heat and you watch in a mix of horror and arousal as he sucks on his digits with the taste of you. He did just eat you out earlier, but for some reason it feels way more nastier with his fingers.
Panting harshly, you slowly come down from your high, lips dry and throat itchy. He brushes away the sweaty hair stuck on your forehead and it reminds you of that time he held up your hair when you had thrown up from food poisoning. The way he looks at you is the same.
Your hands hold up towards him, opening and closing your palm like a child begging for affection. Sukuna smiles and joins you downward into another kiss, hugging you, running his hands across your back. You return his gesture, as simple and primitive as it can be for two human beings to rub and caress each other’s backs in a hug. As open-hearted and unadvanced as it comes to be, sex is the same.
Something hard and phallic presses against your thigh, Sukuna looks at you with a knowing smile that’s a mix of anticipation and bashfulness. You never thought he could ever be someone who felt bashful about anything at all, but perhaps he’s embarrased by the eagerness of his manhood during your tender moment.
“You can put it in.” You offer, nodding with alacrity.
“Don’t say it like that,” He scratches his scalp, “You’re gonna work me up more.”
“Oh, sorry.” You giggle.
Bracing himself up on his elbows once again, Sukuna looks down at his dick and grabs it, trying to line himself properly.
“You’re on birth control, right? Or do you prefer a condom?”
You shyly look away, before answering him sheepishly.
“I’m- I’m on IUD.”
“What?” Sukuna stills with surprise and looks at you with wide eyes.
“Um,” You sniffle, “I got it when we started dating…”
The smile on Sukuna’s face twists into stupidly arrogant expression, cocking his head to one side.
“You wanted to fuck me raw that bad huh?”
“Stop!”
“Ah, didn’t know my sweet sweet sweet girl was this perverted and dirty.”
“Enough!” You slap his face playfully and he chuckles while rubbing his cheek. He complies and goes back to lining himself up, unaware his precum is dribbling all over your mound.
It’s true, you did get an IUD after discussing with your friends about wanting to have sex with Sukuna. Initially, you thought going on birth control and condoms was good enough, but then your best friend had recommended you an IUD. You were sure Sukuna was clean and he would never put you in danger, so you went ahead and got it at the clinic. The doctor even teased you about “having fun” after it’s planted into your arm.
“I just realized this is my first time seeing a real dick.” You whisper.
“Uh-huh. What do you think?” He whispers back, trying to focus.
“U-uh, it looks kind of t-thick. I’m not sure about the size. Also you tattooed your dick?” You stutter a little when the tip catches onto the hood of your clit, he smiles to himself at his accidental tease.
“Yeah I did when I was 20,” He scoffs in amusement like he admits it’s a silly thing to do, “Not sure about the size?”
“I mean I can’t tell if it’s big or… not big.” You certainly didn’t want to say ‘small’ and insult him, but Sukuna looks up at you as if you have.
“Hm, well, the penis size sometimes does not matter. Time to time it’s more of the technique.” He explains flatly.
“Why does it sound so complicated?”
“Even if a guy had a super big dick, for instance, 10 inch or so, he might not be able to have sex with his partner because it’s simply uncomfortable. Plus, a woman’s cervix varies in- Fuck, I’ll explain later, okay?” Sukuna abandons his educational speech midway out of frustration and you giggle, watching him line himself up. Then, he pushes in.
“S-suku…na.” You whine, feeling something foreign and squishy going inside you. His dick is kind of warm, or maybe you’re burning up inside and you’re burning him up too, because Sukuna looks as if he’s in pain and sweating.
“Y-you feel so fucking good, shit,” He pants, catching his own breath for a moment, “I don’t want to push it in too fast, so don’t squeeze me so hard.”
“I’m not squeezing you!” You let go of his shoulders.
“Not your hands, your pussy you stupid girl!” He grits.
“O-oh! Okay! R-relaxing!” You try to take deep breaths to relax, feeling an inch push further more inside you.
He shifts and adjusts himself so he’s kneeling on the bed, grabbing onto your hip to pull you against him instead of pushing himself in. He groans at the halfway point, biting his bottom lip so he doesn’t blow his load the second he fully sheathes in.
If he were to calculate, Sukuna’s been celibate for almost 2 years. Sex wasn’t really on his mind often since he was always busy with rugby and his engineering assignments, so he didn’t bother to have flings the same way he had during the first year of college. He wouldn’t say he had a low libido, but rugby definitely works him up a sweat. Then he gets super horny and jerks himself off afterwards.
A spilled miso soup and you, came tumbling into his life a year ago like a car crash, then he realizes he might be much more perverted than he had previously thought himself to be. Sukuna hates clumsy people, but he oddly found himself acquiring a mysterious source of patience to teach you how to ice skate. The glimmer in your eyes and the sheer awe you had when you held onto his arm and slid across the ice made him uncharacteristically aware of the physical contact.
Then you proceeded let go and twirl yourself around yelling “Sukuna Sukuna look what I can do!”, doing a 360 spin and posing, before stumbling on the ice like a klutz. He rubs his face to suppress the betraying happiness showing on his face, but then a glimpse of your bare nape makes him do a double take and swallow like a victorian man with a finie maiden’s ankle.
“Fuck, it’s in.” Sukuna groans with long sigh, feeling his thighs shake with adrenaline and the urge to start thrusting into you. Watching you gasping softly with your hands fisting the pillow behind you definitely doesn’t help.
“I feel so full.”
“Don’t say that.”
“No really, I-I feel so stuffed. It feels like your dick is all the way in my ribs.”
“Fuck,” Sukuna rubs his face with a shaky exhale, “Don’t say anything more unless you’re ready for me to move.”
“But I can’t,” You softly cry, “Is your dick really big because it feels like a coca cola can is nesting inside my womb.”
“What? You are so- I don’t even- Jesus,” Sukuna’s jaw clenches before he decides he has enough and it’s him to blame for dating you, “I’m going to move now.”
Sukuna slowly pulls out with an agonizing pace, before pushing back in all the way. The pressure, the tightness of it makes him groan loudly with an open jaw, then he makes the mistake to look up at your reaction and you’re covering your mouth with quick pants, looking all helpless and alarmed. Fueled by your reaction, he does it one more time, you cry out and muffle your noises again.
With a quick decisive motion, Sukuna yanks your hands away from your mouth and intertwines it with his fingers. Droplets of sweat start to form on his forehead starts to form as he starts to pick up the pace and rut into you faster. All you can do is drool and mewl and push at his abs to ground yourself, but then he presses your hands down at your stomach and you cry out at the pressure.
“A-as I was s-saying,” he pants, talking loudly over the slapping sounds of his hips against your ass, “A- a woman’s cervix varies from woman to woman. Some, fuck, some women have deeper cervix, some have shallow ones.” The tip of his cock bumps right into a sweet spot inside you, and Sukuna grins at the slick that oozes out of you more.
“In your c-case, your cervix is, shallow.” Sukuna angles himself towards that spot again and thrusts himself harder, pressing down on your stomach. You squirt a little and he laughs like a maniac.
“S-sukuna-” The tears in your eyes are starting to build from the pleasure, the friction of his thrusts with the lewd bounce of your breast is so humiliatingly pleasureable, you feel yourself about to cum again. Sukuna’s pace doesn’t falter at all, and he’s attacking that squishy spot inside you with scary good precision.
“You’re sensitive with a shallow c-cervix, it’s pretty fucking easy for you to feel good even with a smaller dick.” Noticing that you’re about to cum, Sukuna cruelly slows his pace down on purpose just to see you cry from being on the edge. Your feet kicks at him, so he lets go of your hands and places your ankles up on his shoulder.
“I-I was so close!” Your pitiful complain makes him smile, grabbing onto your thighs and leaning down more so he’s nose to nose with you. Your thigh muscles burn at the stretch, Sukuna’s grip and weight too heavy on your weaker body. He thrusts hard into you once, and savours the way you flinch and cry.
“Does it feel good?” His rhetorical question pisses you off.
“Yes! I want to cum please.” You plea harder, hoping he’ll cave in, but he slows down his pace even more. How does he have so much self control, you don’t know.
“Sorry, since it’s your first, I wanna watch you like this for a bit,” Sukuna’s hand slowly travels down your belly, and you’re feeling an arousing dread build up, “I wanna see you cum while I have you folded like this.”
With a sly smile, his thumb rests on your clit, and he starts to swipe at it vigorously. Your orgasm hits you fast and violent, back bowing and clawing at Sukuna’s nape to hold onto the last string of consciousness you have. His thumb doesn’t falter in roughly rubbing you off, prolonging your pleasure as long as he can to admire your face turning left and right, jaw slacking with drool and with shut eyes.
Sukuna thinks his head must have been fogged up with sexually depraved thoughts, because watching you so helpless and small under him activates some kind of primitive instinct in him to constantly keep you in that state of high. No warning whatsoever, he pushes your knees to your chest and plants one feet on your bed. You’re about to scream at the stretch, but he suddenly fucks into you way harder and your shrieks are silenced into moans.
You’re barely even coherent for the next 10 minutes. Sukuna is fucking into you so roughly that your head is about to bump into your headboard. He quickly places a pillow between and kisses you. The kiss is sloppier than before, gasping and grunting every few seconds with a sultry whisper of your name. You’d think Sukuna is enjoying watching your ruin.
“I’m gonna change positions-” Somehow, he uses the last ounce of his sanity to tell you, gazing at your hazy face nodding weakly.
Pulling out and flipping you over like some fish, you feel overwhelmed when Sukuna slides himself back into your cunt and press your back down with his chest. He spanks your rear once and you cry. The position feels so much deeper than the previous, your high-pitched whines entirely muffled by your pillow and Sukuna’s grunting noises in your ear.
You’re pushed to overstimulation when he snakes his hand under you and plays with your clit again while fucking you, a loud moan pollutes your ear and a hot liquid fills you up inside.
“You moan so sweetly, holy shit,” He mutters into your ear, listening to your wailing cries of pleasure. “Sounds like you’re crying.”
“Don’t be mean!” You smack him without looking up from the pillow, embarrassed by your own noises. Sukuna snorts before grabbing you up by your throat, turning your head to the side so he could kiss you.
Gently moving you, he grabs a towel from your nightstand and pulls out, staring at his cum drooping out of your pussy before wiping them away with contentment. He cheekily push back some of the cum back inside you before you kick at him again.
“I think I’m gonna pass out.” You mumble as he pulls you to cuddle, lying down beside you and immediately sniffing your hair like some dog. He squeezes your boob, you nudge your elbow at him.
“Don’t pass out yet. Go pee, else you’ll get a UTI.” Sukuna pushes your back up encouragingly, ushering you to the bathroom. He leaves an empty space in his arms to prepare for your return.
Once you return with new panties and a loose tee, he scoops you right back into his arms with a few smooches to your shoulder. He always kiss that same spot. The last time you questioned him about this, he simply said that if he does it often enough, you’ll remember the shape of his lips everywhere on your body. You told him he was being stupid and it didn’t make sense, but then you thought really hard about it because Sukuna doesn’t usually do meaningless and unnecessary things. He’s going cuckoo in the head with affection whenever he’s with you.
“That was really hot.” You admit shyly to him.
“Bet it was. Are you okay though?” He gently rubs your stomach.
“Yah,” You nod, “Don’t think I can cum for the whole week. I came so much.”
“Shame. I was gonna ask if you wanted to go again.”
“I thought men needed a refractory period before they’re hard again.” You turn to his side.
“It’s true. I’m just exceptionally horny.” He pinches your nose.
“Um…can I try sucking you off?”
His eye twitches, dick jumping at your thigh.
“If you say that again we’re not gonna sleep tonight.”
“Already did,” you mumbled, eyes still scanning the pages while you ran through the forest with the princess in your book. You felt your heart skip as she stumbled over a root, which seemed a little cliche… she was almost to the cast-
“Don’t be an ass,” Sukuna scolded, tugging the book from your hands and tossing it off the side of the bed without much care where it would land. He had his eyes set on you, in a way that didn’t make you scared, per se, but for sure made your stomach prepare for its descent towards your feet.
You turned towards him, now giving him your full attention and crossing your arms. You’re sure your expression didn’t hide your annoyance as you watched him swallow. You’d been together for long enough to know his tells, and to know that his flair for dramatics was more often than not the cause for the irritation you know oh so well as it resumes its place in the throbbing cavern that was your skull.
Instead of giving you a straight answer, Sukuna reached out to try to grab your hand. You snatched it away, slapping his fingers in the process.
“Don’t get cute,” you jutted your chin out, the mud mask plastered over you restricting your ability to frown to the degree you wanted to. “Spit it out, Ryomen.”
You felt the minutes tick by, or what felt like minutes, as Sukuna regarded your pissy expression. The look in his eyes was still there, but it felt softened. There were smile lines forming in the corner of his eyes that he’ll deny if you point them out, and they always gave away when he was finding something he wanted to drag out for the sake of his own amusement.
Like a cat, trying to disembowel a mouse but finding too much fun in the chase.
Or, in this case, a rabid bat with a mask made from (supposed) Dead Sea mud cracking on her face.
“Well…” he started again, a hand moving to brush against your thigh under the blankets, “I’ve been thinking…”
You turned and watched his hand move against you, feather light and comforting in its repetition. “And?” You prompted.
“And…”
And right on cue, a shrill cry breaks through the self created predicament of Ryomen Sukuna.
You move without thinking, walking to the door and down the hall to the bedroom of your twin girls. One of them is trying to climb out of the crib, with the other sitting on the floor right in front of her sister, her own crib empty on the other side of the room.
With a heft, you pick up the one on the floor, smothering her with kisses as you walk over to place her back down to sleep, taking care to not leave any of the flaking face mask on her. The cry had been a happy one, excitement more or less, but with the new situation now finished, she babbled quietly as she was laid down. The other was the same; tugging at your hair with strong fingers as you settled her.
“Gonna sign you two up for gymnastics,” you turned off the light as you moved out of the shared bedroom, slowly closing the door until a small crack of dim hallway light peaked through.
“Or Jackass, actually…” you mumbled, as you thought back to the attempts to dive off of the changing table earlier in the week.
Sukuna stayed put, like a good dog, and put his phone down when he saw you come back in the room. You shrugged when he raised an eyebrow; a silent request that everything was back to normal, and your agreement that ‘they’re your children, normal isn’t a thing here’.
“Mizu was trying to get Yumi to climb over the side of her crib. She already did it, so I’m pretty sure that it was her idea,” came your musing as you ignored him and walked into the ensuite. Sukuna heard the water running and scrubbing, and then you appeared in the doorway with your face free of any mud.
“They’re like, 20 months old. I don’t think they’re that conniving,” Sukuna lifted the blankets as you came back around to welcome you back into the bed. You snorted as you fluffed a pillow.
“Runs in the family, I’m sure.”
Sukuna hummed, watching as you turned off the lamp on your nightstand. You felt his gaze on you still as you laid down. You flipped so your back was to him and closed your eyes.
“Last chance to tell me what it is you-”
“A baby. Another one.”
The room suddenly felt smaller, and you flipped back towards him, body shaking the mattress as you moved. “Pardon?”
Even in the dark you could see the blush on his cheeks and the red that was creeping up his neck.
“I want to try for another kid,” he stated. “With you,” came the clarification. His hands were twisting the blanket a bit and you reached out to cover one with your own.
“Why? You got other bitches I should know about?” You laughed, smile nearly cracking your face in two.
a/n- did someone say..... 'turn a ruthless villain into a pathetic wife guy?" no? well, cool. I did it anyway and it was fun!!
stupid, dumb, mutually drunk sex between you and sukuna after toji drops you both off at home. the poor man had to keep yelling at sukuna to stop trying to fuck you in the back of his car and eventually had to pull over and had you sit in the front while sukuna moped in the back. such a loser
but when you both get inside, you literally stumble into the bedroom, falling on the bed in a heap of giggles and messy, uncoordinated kisses.
“ew, kuna, you taste like tequila!”
“i know, ‘m tryna wash it off with your taste, stupid”
then when he’s trying so hard to put his dick inside you, he just…keeps missing and you aren’t helping with your endless giggles and squirming.
“s-stop laughing, I’m gonna miss again”
“i-i cant, this ‘s so stupid, h-hehe! jus’ put it—ah…”
“all it took was was some dick t’ shut you up, huh?”
he doesn’t fuck hard, he doesn’t have the coordination too, just slow deep thrusts that have you both moaning and cooing silly little flirts and praises to the other.
hell, you fucking fall asleep in the middle of it and he’s trying to hard not to burst out laughing at the whole situation. but then, 3 minutes later he’s rolled over on his side with his arms wrapped around you, snoring in your ear, dick still buried inside.
you both are just so silly and dumb, a perfect match for each other
the king of curses rarely ever gave in, with his head held high and his chest taut with assertion there was simply no room for pliability.
for a gentle, softness.
not until the last ray of sunshine had long crept away from the shrine and creatures friend and foe alike had returned home to the sole respite of slumber.
it was only then, in the quiet of the night when the monster vanished.
leaving in his wake a gentle giant, one you’d come to love more if not equally than his usual harsh demeanor.
not with you, never harsh with you, but you saw it in others. the terror he evoked for them in comparison to his ability to mold to your wishes.
sukuna was not one to be soft, no, not until you were both in bed and you dared to leave his embrace.
awoken at midnight with your throat mysteriously parched, you hesitated before shifting in the brute’s grasp.
sukuna’s hands were grabbed onto your every part, two arms around your waist and one behind your head the other lay lazily on your thigh.
were any servant to walk in, (impossible, lest they wished to keep their heads) the possessiveness in his grasp on you would be unmistakable to read.
you placed both hands over his, barely covering any surface area due to the his sheer size, and tried to push.
the foundation was solid, you were locked in lovable shackles.
you peeped a look back over your shoulder, his crimson hair tickled your neck and his sets of eyes crinkled under your motion, then relaxed.
maybe even in his sleep, sukuna knew you would not be able to get away.
he made sure of that.
“sukuna..” you whispered slowly enunciating his name.
no response, but the grip on your waist loosened.
huh.
you moved finally to sit up. you reached out to the cup of water placed conveniently near your bed and took hasty sips. the cold water was an antidote for your thirst and surprisingly refreshing for the mind.
with a newfound wakefulness you braced to stand up only for an inked hand to grip your thigh, although not intended to be very strong, and halt your motion.
you looked back and the sight devastated you.
there he was, sukuna, your lover, your wedded lord, with his eyes open blearily heavily intoxicated from sleep and a look almost pleading for you to stop.
he whispered your name, his voice coming out rough around the edges and his grip tightened on your thigh, engulfing it entirely.
“what is it” you whispered back wrinkling your nose with a soft smile painted on your lips.
sukuna silently observed you, taking in everything: your slippers half-hazardly covering your feet, your night gown sliding off your shoulder, your hair a little messy and those eyes, your pretty twinkling eyes.
sukuna’s heart pinched.
heaven’s there had to be a limit to the ever encompassing love he had for his wife, it was simply unfair.
you cupped a hand on the side of your lips before saying “i’ll be back..”
sukuna watched in dismay as you again attempted to get away from him.
before you could even get a step out you were being pulled back by a force much, much stronger than you.
you tut disapprovingly, brushing him off with a light tap.
“it’ll take a minute”
sukuna hugged your back, shaking his head no and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. as much as his 7 foot frame could.
energized by his playful demeanor you harnessed your own, twisting in his grasp you face towards him and cup his face.
“sukuna” you say and he grumbles your name back at you.
“you won’t even know i’m gone”
and without pause,
“i will”
you hold back your giggle opting for a neutral expression.
“my lord, you’re being rather dependent on your poor wife”
“if that is what the situation demands, then so be it” sukuna rolls over, grunting from the movement and pulls you on top of him.
you pushed up at his chest, now with an apparent upper hand ready to appeal for your freedom.
sukuna’s hands rested on your lower back his thumb rubbing into the dip at your hip, eyes barely cracked open.
you brought your fingers up and rubbed his jaw absentmindedly, “i can’t sleep like this”
“why?”
“you haven’t shaved, your face is much too prickly” you teased.
and then ofcourse sukuna proceeded to rub his face against your cheek making you burst into a fit of giggles.
“stop!” you squealed.
you breathed hard, grinning down at your husband, “let me go”
“not in a million years”
you huffed, a stray piece of your hair flying up, the motions the brute had engaged you in making you dreary.
“alright” you fake yawned, “i surrender”
sukuna’s taut shoulders finally melted, the bed creaking under his weight as he let himself loose.
that’s when you cracked your eye open and in a blur of movements you were up and out of his hands. especially the one that almost grabbed onto your ankle.
almost.
you looked at him across the room, waving a finger at his loss.
and lost he was, sukuna with his defined chest highlighted by the moonlight and hair sprung in an unruly sort of direction.
like sweet temptation.
his lower hand motioned you to come closer.
you knew better.
but you stepped into his trap anyway.
firefly; computah! open tumblr right before a career defining exam, lets post a fic.
sukuna vs your pregnancy cravings (suggestive themes ahead)
“psst…kuna..wake up!” you hissed at your snoring husband. it was currently 1:34am and you should’ve definitely been asleep but your pregnancy cravings refused to let you rest until they were satiated.
when sukuna goes to sleep, he’s out like a light and as good as dead. so you had to shake him for a good few minutes before he started showing signs of stirring awake.
“mmh– what..?” he grumbles still very much half-asleep.
“i’m hungryyy!”
“s’way too fucking early. n can’t be healthy eating at this time. js’ go back to sleep.” he murmurs while pulling you closer and splaying a protective hand over your round belly thinking that would be the end of it.
but now? it’s quiet — too quiet. and you’re not melting into his embrace like you normally do. the silence breaks when soft sniffles and hitched breathing could be heard as you pull away from his hold.
“woman..what bothers you now?” sukuna treads lightly so to not set you off further when you’re already clearly upset. he would never tell you this but your mood swings genuinely terrify him (also turn him on when you’re mad at him).
“so do you just want me and your baby to starve to death?!” you shriek at him with glossy eyes.
“WHAT?! when the hell did i say–”
“be honest, do you think i’m fat and ugly now? i-is that what it is? do you h–hate me now?” you cut him off and wipe away the helpless tears now streaming down your face.
“fuck no. to all of that. y’look so fucking sexy like this. want me to prove it? could stuff you full a different way~” sukuna’s large hands squeeze your tits to which you quickly slap away. not that it didn’t feel good, but you had a craving to attend to first.
“eww, no! actually– maybe later. right now i’m having a food craving..”
dear god. you just recently started having more cravings and every single one of them have been clinically insane. for example, you recently used his card to buy a chamoy pickle set from tiktok shop because according to your own words, ‘the baby demanded so’.
in all of sukuna’s years on this earth, that may have been the first ever original sentence he’s heard. and he’s heard a lot.
“well, what is it?”
“okay, so i was scrolling on tiktok an hour ago because your snoring woke me up and i couldn’t fall back asleep–”
“i do not snore.” he quickly chimes in to defend himself.
“DO NOT INTERRUPT ME RYOMEN! anyways where was i…oh yeah! so there were loads of ramen mukbangs on my for you page and then i saw this other pregnant lady making her baby’s cravings into sandwiches and then i thought…i have to try that. along with the ramen. yeah, that’s it. end of my rant!”
to the average person, that may seem like enough. but sukuna is anything but average with his massive appetite that he’s also passed onto you. “right…so what else is inside the sandwich? can’t have you and baby ‘starving to death’ now, can we?”
“oops, silly me! that completely slipped my mind! umm, how about we use toasted focaccia bread, garlic butter and melted cheese on each slice. then the fillings can be…ramen, of course, extra creamy and cheesy! y’know how i like it~” you winked at him and could’ve sworn you noticed a tinge of pink in his ears before continuing,
“some guacamole, pickles, grilled halloumi, ooo some honey to go with that too! steak frites, pesto n some crispy fries. that should do it.” you smile beamingly at sukuna, so brightly that no one would even notice suspect that you were crying just a few minutes ago.
“our brat’s a fucking genius. we have everything at home so i’ll get started in the kitchen n order some wingstop since your meal’s light.”
“yay! i’ll keep you company!” you exclaim before swinging your legs over and slowly but surely waddling behind your husband into the kitchen.
thirty minutes later, you’re sat on the kitchen stool watching him cook with natural precision whilst snacking away on cheese for the ramen. honestly, it’s kinda hot how he can multitask different roles so easily — but he doesn’t need to know that and have his ego more inflated than it already is.
“hm, close your eyes f’me.” sukuna snaps you out of your daydreaming.
“huh- whyy?”
“just do it.”
“fine.” you huff but eventually do so and hear the sound of a plate settling in front of you.
“now open.” you open your eyes and gasp in awe, there was your sandwich exactly how you envisioned it. “ohmygod!! kuna this looks so good!!!” he smirks proudly at your excitement.
“go on, tell me what you think.” you take a massive bite and moan instantly, “i think i need some alone time with this. mmph– told you the ramen would work well.”
“never even doubted you, but whatever.” sukuna rolls his eyes but adds onto your state of pure bliss by massaging your shoulders making you let out a deep sigh in relief.
“i could die peacefully right now.”
“don’t say shit like that.” he scowls and your smile grows even further. aww, what a secret softie~
a few minutes later, the doorbell rings to which sukuna mumbles a brief “i’ll get it.” before returning with your wingstop — except it looks like he ordered one of everything from the menu.
“i know i said was hungry but this is way too much…”
“relax woman, ordered some for myself.” of course he did. your husband has always been a massive foodie and could easily devour the whole menu in minutes — reminding you of the food challenges you sometimes put him up to at restaurants to win extra money. and of course he wins every single time.
“oh? what happened to it being unhealthy to eat so late?” you giggle at using his own words against him.
“tch, might as well join you if yr’ so adamant on eating at this time.” he opens up the food from the box and gives your fair share, too lazy to get out plates and clean up more for no reason.
you spend the next hour or so talking about anything that comes to your mind. sukuna being his greedy self finished his meal in ten minutes and when the whole menu wasn’t enough, he began eyeing up your food instead of listening to you!
you still wanted to savour the rest of yours for later on the day, so you told sukuna to go back to bed whilst you hid your meal away in the fridge. he already knew what you were up to and could easily find your food but he knows better than to mess with you.
there’s been countless of times during your pregnancy where sukuna has made the grave mistake of eating your food that you were saving for later. all of which have resulted in you crying and giving him the silent treatment for hours (sometimes days) on end.
sukuna cleans up your plate before waiting for you in the bedroom. and god, you just want to jump at his bones for how good he looks despite waking up at 1am — but that can wait for later. instead you join him in bed as he spoons you and lifts your belly since learning about the relief it brings for you and the baby.
“thank you kuna, for doing all of this, always being there for me and your baby. i know you’re still learning, but i’m really proud of you.” you slowly turn over to face him when he doesn’t reply, knowing that he’s most likely overthinking again. “what’s up?”
“d’you think i’ll be a good dad? no matter what i js’ feel unprepared..” he mumbles into your shoulder, eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed.
“i know you will, you know why?” he looks up at you, ruby eyes softening as he awaits your response.
“because i’ve seen how you were with other kids like yuji at the start of our relationship and even now, how much growing respect he has for you each day that passes. and we have each other for support, i’m scared too but i feel better knowing that i’m learning every step with you.” you earnestly smile at him.
“damn, that was kinda poetic.” a small smirk shows up on his face.
“heh– what can i say?” you tease back, falling into a comforting silence after that with sukuna rubbing your belly.
“sleep well, brats.” he murmurs to both you and the baby.
“heard that.” you mutter on the brink of sleep.
“good. you were meant to.”
“shut up. and don’t think i forgot about what you said earlier, about proving a certain something? we’re coming back to that in the morning~”
well fuck.
notes: first time writing for sukuna hope i did him justice 🙂↔️ i love how domestic i wrote him 🥹 um should i write part 2 lmk…
EXTRA EXTRA READ ALL ABOUT IT CALEB’S IN HIS FEELINGS AND HE CAN’T GET OUT OF IT…
Sypnosis: Caleb x non!mc — you find out he only used you in this marriage of three, and only had a child with you to prove to the world that he, Caleb Xia, had moved on. 7k words. Warnings: HURT NO COMFORT no seriously, x reader is a stretch. mentions of pregnancy, birth and cheating. selfish caleb. i like exploring his ego. A/N: Sorry for the wait. I smoked 7 cigs in the process of writing this (working through my 8th now as I do the formatting). this stemmed from a little ask that was just too angsty to write a simple blurb on. highly suggest listening to mitski while reading this/earrings by malcolm todd (of which the title originates from) for the maximum angst experience.
There were three of you in this marriage, so naturally, it was a bit crowded.
Part of you felt unbelievably happy to be at the altar with Caleb Xia, yet another part of you couldn’t ignore the nudging feeling that something was very wrong with your husband-to-be.
To the spectators of the wedding, Caleb seemed perfectly composed. Not that most of them would know him any better than you did of the man you were about to dedicate the rest of your life to. The audience of the simple wedding at the courthouse consisted of your family and friends, and for Caleb…well, the only three people who he invited were Gideon and…
And her. MC. Of course.
You’ve always had an idea of who she was. It was hard not to acknowledge the woman your husband was obsessed with, is still obsessed with. You knew how much MC weighed on Caleb’s heart, and you could only guess how much that weight doubled when MC, instead of marrying him, married some cardiologist friend of hers. And you could piece together that you were nothing more than a trophy of proof for Caleb to show that he had moved on.
Yet, you still naively believed that, just like any good fairy tale, Caleb would eventually fall in love with you.
But one look into his empty, loveless eyes, as he signed your marriage certificate, told you otherwise. The chaste, brief kiss you exchanged felt like more of an obligation to show to the wedding guests rather than a genuine embrace of a husband and wife.
But then again, you didn’t think you expected much more.
In fact, Caleb looked happier when after the ceremony, MC bounded up with him with a grin, patting his hair and congratulating him for getting married and finally, finally moving on. To which he blushed and replied to her with something inaudible to you.
So from the very beginning, there’s always been three there has always been three in the spaces you occupied with your husband, three at the altar (you wondered if Caleb had imagined it was MC standing in your place on your wedding day), three in the bed (you could even imagine MC lying in empty space inbetween you and Caleb as you slept, and three at the table (at first before Caleb had learnt more about you, the dishes he served were all reminecent of MC’s favourites). You knew MC haunted, haunts, your marriage. But like any good wife, you looked the other way and hoped for the best.
Although it was not that you expected for Caleb to start acting like your husband right off the bat (you told yourself he needed time to heal). Not that you expected him to treat you like MC. Not that you never stopped praying that the underdog (you) of the story may prevail eventually. Yet the silence in his cold, gray penthouse, the lack of physical touch between the two of you, the meals consumed in harrowing conversation (you’d have to give it to him for always trying to ask you how your day was everyday), the nights spent so far away from each other, was slowly convincing you that this marriage was nothing but one of convenience. All you did was try your best to keep holding onto the hope that maybe things would change with Caleb for the better.
About two years into the marriage, Caleb surprised you by asking if you could have a child together.
You were shocked he was the one to ask.
Your remembered first attempt at intimacy had gone miserably. You could freshly recall on your wedding night when Caleb had loomed over you in the darkness of the bedroom, his chest heaving - though he hadn’t moved to do anything, anything at all - with spots of tears forming in the crease of his eye. After ten minutes of silence, he rolled off you.
‘I— I’m sorry…I- I can’t.’
You had told him it was okay. And you never mentioned it again, so you were coloured surprised when Caleb meekly asked you, as if he thought you might get upset, to try for a baby.
Fortunately for him, it only took about three times before you presented him with a positive pregnancy test. Fortunately for you as well, since each attempt was very awkward, terrifyingly so. You had no idea where you should have out your hands, your legs, if he even wanted your hands on him— and neither did Caleb know what to do with his touch. You’d think he didn’t want a baby by how hesitant he was acting. However, eventually when you did hand him that test with two pink lines, Caleb’s face practically glowed. You had never seen your husband, in all these years of marriage, look so…happy, so much more like his actual age than the cold, gloomy colonel you were married to. For the first time, you saw the sunny Caleb that you only got to know through photos stuck in dusty albums in the corners of your home. He hugged you, kissed you, and laughed in relief.
Relief?
Honestly, you were somewhat relieved too. Usually, Caleb would be away for prolonged periods of time, always muttering about something to to with the fleet, a mission, training, before departing for sometimes weeks at a time, but ever since you got pregnant, Caleb cut back on prolonged duties and stayed by your side if he could. There was one thing you could never complain about him, was that when it really came down to it, Caleb was not a bad husband by the books. He constantly cooks, cleans, cares and caters for you, and even more so now, he’ll drop whatever is on hand at moment’s notice to come running to you if you said you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. Plus, with all the baby essentials Caleb had purchased, they had really livened up the house much more. You watch as he assembles them without the need to look at the instructions whilst sitting on the floor of the living room. As he fusses about with you taking the right supplements, about getting enough sleep…it’s cute. It’s the closest feeling you’ve ever experienced to having a real husband, despite being married for well over two years now.
On a muggy afternoon, you inched out of Caleb’s grasp (he has now found it in himself to sleep closer to you with one hand usually over your stomach if you allow it) and wobbled your way to the walk in closet for some airier clothes. As you sifted through the racks, you accidentally knocked out a few photos from Caleb’s colonel service coat, which fluttered down to the bottom of the closet. Crouching down (whilst you still could), you inspected the photos.
Oh.
It was a laminated photo of your baby’s ultrasound. Not just that, but on the edges of the photo, written neatly in his handwriting in pen, were the words: [name]’s ultrasound appointment on xx/xx/xxxx.
Adorable, you thought, that Caleb carried this around with him. You privately wondered if he would proudly show it off to his co-workers or his underlings. You hoped he might, maybe even boast a little about how lucky he and his wife was. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, wondering if this marriage was finally taking a step into the right direction.
But right next to that photo was that necklace. When U Come Back. You knew very well the story behind that necklace, how MC had given it to him before he left for the aerospace academy. How he used to wear it, 24/7, but had at least the decency to stop wearing it at all times and only keep it on him, after he married you. Yes, at least he had the decency to now never take off your wedding bands. Your eyes glazed over the necklace again. Bitterly, you wondered if he’d ever want to carry a photo of him and you someday.
Nevermind. You dried your eyes quickly. At least in this marriage, both he and you, are getting something that you both wanted, something that you will both cherish more than anything.
A bouncing baby girl.
He wanted your baby. He needed your baby. He wanted to be a father, because he wanted to be a father, a nurturing, loving figure, right? And not for any other reason? Right?
Right.
Two weeks later, whilst tidying up the kitchen, your hand bumped against a bright yellow lunchbox patterned with little apple stickers, long forgotten beneath a pile of documents and papers. Fondly, you picked it up.
In the very earliest days of your marriage, you had done the domestic, wifely thing of making your husband a lunchbox before he departed for work every morning. And he had returned an empty box everytime, down to the last grain of rice being picked clean. You still remember the fuzzy feeling of seeing Caleb smile at you, thanking you for such a delicious meal, how his subordinates had all fawned over the presentation, how delicious it was, how lucky the colonel was to have such a lovely wife…
So why not do it again? You thought merrily, after all, you haven’t made him a packed lunch in a while. Maybe showing up at his work with a delicious lunchbox might perk him up. Excitedly, you got into your car and made your way down into central Skyhaven.
Entering the fleet HQ, you were immediately guided to your husband’s office.
You were about to turn the handle and step in - usually there weren’t much visitors in his office in the middle of the day - but a chorus of loud voices stopped you.
“And to Caleb! The newest dad-to-be!”
“The first of all of us to be a father, actually.”
You heard a round of clinking cups. It must be Caleb, inviting his flight school friends to celebrate the impending birth of your child. At his office though…strange. But it must be because he’s been so busy, he hardly had any time to go anywhere except his workplace and his home.
“Woah…no, no more.” You recognised that as Caleb’s voice. You could imagine his hand gliding over to cover the surface of his glass.
Drinking? In the middle of the day? Seriously? You snorted, hand going down on the handle again, But at least it’s to a good cause. Caleb being a new dad and all.
“But seriously. Here’s also to your marriage not being a total disaster!”
Your stopped before you could push against the door.
“It’s not. A total disaster.” Caleb said, his voice a bit slurred though not completely drunk.
“Yeah, yeah…we all know you had the hots for MC, but she ended up marrying that sexy doctor instead of the big bad colonel, didn’t she, oof—!”
A thud. Caleb had probably slammed whoever said that against the wall. A series of ‘ooohs’ followed.
“Kidding, kidding…”
“You better be.” Caleb dusted his hands off, sinking back into his seat. “I’ve long moved on from MC. I even have proof.”
“Oh yeah? Don’t tell me it’s—”
He pulled out the ultrasound picture that he kept in his uniform pocket, showing it to everyone in the room.
“I had a child with my wife. Can’t you see how much I’ve moved on already? I can have a child with someone who’s not MC. See?”
Tears stung your vision.
So thats what he was using that picture for.
Not for a happy memory’s keepsake, no. But to show the world that he, Colonel Caleb Xia, the yearner, the lover, the oh-so-perfect man…has moved on from his sweet MC.
…
You quickly threw the lunchbox you made away, and fled the building. You needed to get away from him, in that moment. You didn’t want to linger on in this kind of feeling anymore.
…
Time passes a lot quicker, you found, when it wasn’t just you in the house all day. With Caleb by your side (more or less constantly in the final few months of your pregnancy) the days had quickly passed. And before you knew it, there was a living, breathing infant in your arms.
The birth was easy, and again, you were grateful for Caleb’s support (he never left your side in those six hours, plus you’ve heard far too many horror stories of baby daddies bringing their Xbox, or not showing up at all…) though admittedly you swore at him multiple times and eventually snapped at him to wait outside. However, part of you feared he might react to an actual baby, his and your baby, with regret and hesitation. You couldn’t shake the fear that Caleb might feel prejudiced against a baby you made with him instead of one borne from him and MC. But those fears quickly evaporated when you saw Caleb crying, sniffling, holding the little pink bundle in his arms.
Both Caleb and you were overjoyed, though also albeit scared, naturally like most first-time parents. He was seriously dedicated at every step. Again, you’d have to give it to him for being a good dad.
After returning from the hospital, he never allowed you to get up in the middle of the night to soothe the baby. He never complained about doing the messy work that came with babies, often willingly taking care of all her wants every day as if trying to prove a point. He now even tries to come home earlier and go on less long-distance fleet missions to spend more time with the baby, something he’s never done for you in the time you were married. You watched as he poured his whole heart into being a good dad for a tiny little girl. A perfect masculine figure. Ever so sensitive to what she needed.
But what about what you needed?
Sometimes when you come home after a day out with your friends or a solo trip somewhere, the moment you open the door to your home, you feel as if your entire world is behind that doorway. That despite all the freedoms Caleb has given you in this marriage (the financial freedom, ‘you can go anywhere you want’ , you can do whatever you wish), your world had drastically shrank to the man sitting in the grey parlour, who wasn’t even facing you.
On other days, he wasn’t even there.
Gone to MC’s. Emergency.
….you weren’t exponentially surprised by the reason. Caleb frequently rushed to MC’s house to deal with her emergencies. At this point, you simply shrugged it off and continued on as you usually would. Only that when you went to the nursery to check on your daughter…
The crib was empty.
Your heart dropped. You had frantically dialled his number. No response. You racked your head for thousands of possibilities. Did someone take her? Did he mention he was taking her anywhere? Did he…did he take your child? Taking off with MC to a place where you’d never find him again? Did Caleb pack up and leave altogether? With your baby?
You told yourself it couldn’t be true. That he’d never do something like that. He wouldn’t. That Caleb is a good, kind man. But to what distances he would go for MC, you had no idea. All you knew was that you’d like it to be you instead of her.
Ten minutes later, you were banging the front door of MC’s house.
Surprisingly, it was her husband, Zayne, who answered.
“[name]? What are you doing here?” Zayne asked, surprised.
He didn’t even get to answer before you shoved past him, calling Caleb’s name.
“Caleb, Caleb?!” Your mind flashed with possibilities of where he could be. Maybe he was already gone. Maybe he took MC and drove up to the airport already. But surely not, his car was parked outside, and, and…
There he was. In MC’s backyard, sleeves rolled up, that stupid grin on his face as he…tacked a nail into a piece of plywood, MC hovering over him with a tray of lemonade. You stopped in your steps where the stone of the house met grass, calming down, as you watched your husband beam up at MC, sweat glistening down his muscular arms, droplets forming on his healthy skin, a damp V soaking the top of his t-shirt. Time seemed to slow as Caleb reached up, took a sparkling glass, smiling at MC gratefully, a smile so bright you’ve never seen in all those times you ever offered him something.
“Caleb!” You snapped, finally loud enough that he whipped his head around, MC too. “Caleb! Where’s our daughter—“
Before you could even hear his reply, a beaming MC gasped in delight and smothered you in a hug.
“[name]! You’re here too! That’s perfect, you should stay and have dinner! Ooh, I’ll tell Zayne to set an extra space at the table.” She spun around, shouting into the open patio doors. “ZAAAAAYNIIIIEEEEE?”
She talked at such a fast pace, you barely even got to get a word in on how you didn’t really want to stay for dinner, how you just wanted to demand where your daughter is and go home. In that moment, you didn’t even really care if your husband went home with you. But just as you opened your mouth…
“Aw, pips, there’s no need, I’m almost done with building this part already.”
MC pouted, that little, pathetic, faux-childish pout she always made at her dear gege.
“C’mon, Caleb, staying for dinner is the least you could do for me, after rushing over on such short notice to build Zachary’s treehouse.” She said, referring to hers and Zayne’s son. She turned to you and smiled, dropping her voice to a whisper, “Zayne is so useless when it comes to things like this, and my gege is the best!”
She turned back to Caleb. “And bringing your adorable little daughter too! I’ve been dying to meet her. You know I’ve asked you so many times already.”
You paused. “Wait a minute. You…asked Caleb to…to bring…”
“Yes!” MC replied, “I know she’s only a few months old, but all I’ve been asking Caleb is to let me meet my adorable niece!”
It was almost laughable. The ‘emergency’ that required Caleb’s immediate attention was the construction of a treehouse for MC’s son. You couldn’t help but wonder how many other of these such trips to her house that Caleb took were also something else, something less significant but labelled as an ‘emergency’.
You turned to Caleb, absolutely pissed.
“You. You took my daughter just like that? You took her without asking me?”
“I told you I was going to MC’s—“
“You didn’t tell me you were taking her!”
“I thought you would have assumed—“
Right. Like you should assume, like every other little bit of your marriage, you should have assumed that Caleb’s judgement was right. That your husband is doing his best for you. For this marriage. That you should assume every step he did, he was thinking of you first, and not MC. You should always assume. You’d be happier off that way.
But obviously, you were much more headstrong than Caleb let on. You were no longer the nervous blushing bride that had once optimistically stood by his side.
“You have no right to take her and tell me, her mother, to just assume anything about the safety of her own child.” You replied, in a tone that surprised Caleb so much, that he wasn’t sure how to reply.
MC, caught in the middle, immediately pushed in to diffuse the tension.
“Aw, don’t be like that, my sister-in-law.” She smiled, holding onto your arm. “Don’t blame Caleb, it’s my fault. I asked him to bring the baby.”
“No, no.” Caleb cut in, standing up and putting a hand onto MC’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself.”
He turned to you, frowning. “[name], I think we’ve just blown this way out of proportion. No one’s been hurt and you’re acting if I’ve kidnapped someone!”
“You know that’s not what I—“
“Come on.” Caleb gently took your hand, herding you towards the house. “Our daughter’s fine. She’s asleep upstairs.”
He led you past the living room, past the kitchen where a frazzled Zayne stood, wordlessly watching as Caleb led you up the staircase and into the nursery, familiar with the layout as if it was his own house, to where your daughter was sleeping peacefully in their son’s old crib.
“See?” Caleb sighed, “Nothing’s wrong. You got all worked up over nothing.”
You wanted to yell and him and tell him that this wasn’t nothing. That somehow ‘nothing’ always seemed to be associated with his behaviour with MC, and that none of what happened concerning MC in your marriage could just be swept under the rug like that. Maybe that’s how he preferred it, you thought bitterly.
“I want to go home.” Was your only reply.
Caleb’s shoulders slackened. “C’mon, let’s just stay for dinner…”
“I want. To go. Home.”
Your husband seemed to give up this case, and sighed. “Alright.” He replied, “Let me get my jacket.”
Suddenly, both of your heads turned, as you heard MC rap her hand against the nursery doorframe.
“Caleb…can I just speak with you for a second before you go…?”
You wanted to question if she had been lurking outside, listening, but Caleb cut in front of you.
“Of course.” He replied.
He took MC by her shoulder“We’ll just be a minute.” He called to you.
“You don’t mind, do you?” MC asked graciously.
“Sure.” You replied evenly. “I’ll just be in here. Come get me when you’re done, okay? I’ll dress our daughter to leave.”
You saw Caleb nod, before escorting MC down the stairs. You made sure they both saw you close the nursery door.
You mad good on your promise to stay in the nursery and dress your fussy little daughter (who was looking more like Caleb by the day). Five minutes later, gently creaking open the nursery door, you snuck outside, thinking they’d finished their conversation already. But you realised they hadn’t gone far. As you stood on the stairs with your back against the side of the wall, you could clearly hear Caleb and MC talking in the living room behind the staircase.
Their words made your heart beat out of your chest.
“Is your wife always so…uptight?” You heard MC mumble, her voice suddenly sultrier than before.
“No, she’s just…” You heard Caleb began.
I’m just what, Caleb?
“…she’s just emotional, that’s all.”
You heard MC snort. “Emotional? Hardly. I seem to remember that at your wedding, she was ever so meek and crittery, so nervous, so deferent, so grateful to marry the big strong colonel…” She sighed, “And I thought that, y’know, hey! She might do a lot of good for you. She’s like a squeaky mouse, just like another version of me, how I was your ‘pipsqueak’…” Her voice suddenly dropped to a whine.
“I thought maybe you found a better replacement.”
You heard sounds that indicated that Caleb stepped forwards to hug her.
“MC…nothing and nobody could ever replace you.” Caleb said gently.
They were silent for a long time. Wetness had began to gloss your eyes.
“Well…on that happy note…” MC mumbled, “I have some news for you.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“I’m…” She giggled, “I’m expecting.”
“You’re what?!” You heard Caleb exclaim.
“Shhhh! I said I’m expecting. I’m going to have another baby.” MC replied hushedly.
“Oh wow…congratulations!” Caleb laughed. “Guess I’m ready to be uncle to another mini-zayne, huh?”
MC let out a small happy sigh. “Not quite.”
“What do you mean? Do you think this baby’s going to look more like you, or—”
“No, no…”
A pause. MC gazed up at your husband, clasping his hands.
“Caleb…the baby is yours.”
…
You couldn’t bear to hear the rest of the conversation. You sprinted back up the stairs, going back into the darkness of the nursery. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t help but sob, sob over this marriage which you’ve always held hope to, this marriage which, admittedly, up to that moment you were still clinging onto the hope that things may turn to the better, that your fate might change, that this wasn’t all a mistake, that your marriage wasn’t just a helpless fantasy on your part…
But look at you now.
Crying on the floor of the house which belonged to the woman who your husband was obsessed with. Crying with a baby that was only born into the world to prove a point for your husband, to prove that he had moved on. Or worse, your poor baby daughter wasn’t even born to prove a point anymore, she had only served to prove a lie, a lie that was quickly unravelling at the hands of the man who demanded her existence.
Caleb…oh, Caleb.
Your tears stopped when you heard someone coming up the stairs. Immediately, you dried your eyes and stood up, trying to slow down your breaths and calm yourself down. You refused to face your husband like this. You refused to make a scene. Not now, anyway.
“Ready to go?” He asked, pushing the door open.
You didn’t turn for a second. In that moment, time seemed to stop.
Slowly, you turned to him, your daughter held tightly in your arms.
“Sure.” You smiled, “Let’s go home.”
…
Home. Such a funny word.
As you watched the glowing skyscrapers pass you in the passenger seat, you suddenly felt very calm. The air was wet from rain, and a cool summer breeze had began to sweep through the night. You thought you might feel rage, or resentment, but instead…all you felt was a strange sense of sereneness. You were disappointed at Caleb, sure, but not as surprised as you thought you’d feel.
Which felt worse than being angry.
You’d rather feel that rush of adrenaline, make a scene, throw something at his face and scream at him and cry and slap him, maybe, but no, no, all you felt was a churning pit of emptiness in the pits of your stomach. Your belly empty, while MC’s swelled with life. His life.
“What do you want to have for dinner when we get back home?” Caleb asked you, breaking the silence.
You shrugged, wondering when, or if that all, he was going to confirm for you what you had overheard.
“Don’t be like that.” He nudged you with a half smile, “You can pick anything. Anything at all to eat, it’s up to you.”
You didn’t want to eat with him. Even the thought of sitting at the same table, across him, made you feel sick. The thought of your mouth wrapping around the utensils that once touched his mouth, his mouth that once warmed MC’s tongue. Biting into food prepared by his hands, his hands that once traveled across MC’s naked skin. A sickening scene.
You didn’t want anything to do with him.
“I’d rather you decide.” Came your firm reply. “Since you seem to decide everything that goes on around here.”
Caleb sighed, a long heavy drag. “[name], I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” He spun the wheel, pulling into the familiar street. “So can we please just drop the attitude?”
“What attitude?” You asked, fluttering your lashes as often MC did when she wanted to appease her dearest gege, “I really don’t mind what we eat. Why would I?”
“[name].” He said more seriously, “Please. I don’t want a scene. Our baby’s asleep in the back and I’d really like to keep it that way.”
Right, so you’d be fine having an argument if our daughter wasn’t here. Speaking of children…
“MC’s looked glowing today, don’t you think?” You mentioned, sliding out of the passenger’s seat almost the second Caleb rolled the car into the driveway.
He shot you a strange look as he unlatched your daughter from her baby seat in the back. “Yes…she did. Why do you ask?”
You shrugged innocently, unlocking the front door, “Nothing, I just meant that motherhood agrees with her.”
Caleb said nothing in reply. You watched as he carried your daughter inside, not a muscle in his face giving away a single hint of suspicion or anxiety. You knew what kind of man your husband was. It wouldn’t be so easy to gauge out the truth from him, or any semblance of emotion he didn’t want to express for that matter. But you were expecting this.
“Do you think she’s going to have another one?” You said coquettishly, shrugging off your coat.
He couldn’t help it this time. You watched from behind as his shoulder twitched, ever so slightly, for not even half a second.
“I wouldn’t know.” Caleb replied, his tone ordinary, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She and Zayne are a happy couple, after all.”
Your husband would have made a great actor, you thought humorlessly. You wondered if he was tearing himself apart inside.
“Actually.” You raised your hand, smiling. “I don’t want dinner.”
Caleb turned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “What? But you—”
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” You nodded, one foot on the stairs. “I’m going to bed early. It’s been a long day.”
“But it’s only—“
“Goodnight, Caleb.”
“…goodnight.”
…
Weeks had passed. You’ve continued to act as if nothing had gone wrong. Caleb went to work, came back from work, cooked, played with your baby girl (who was now crawling all over the place) and went to bed. The only aspect that he felt…off, about, was how pacified you acted now.
You didn’t pepper him with questions about his day anymore.
You weren’t there to ask if he was feeling alright the moment he came home.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to stand closer to him.
It was as if the marriage had undergone mitosis and split itself in two, as if the straining cell it had once been has finally pulled away from the other half. All that remained was two individuals, standing inches apart in the kitchen, sitting a meter away in the living room, sleeping in beds that felt miles away from each other at night.
Your scents didn’t even mingle together anymore. The air in your home felt stagnant. You were sure that if you hadn’t got used to it, if you weren’t you for a second and you had visited your current home for the first time, you would assume that there were no inhabitants in it at all.
You could imagine it now. The edge of the scissors pulling the winding umbilical cord into a taught triangular shape in the sterile air, about to snap shut, about to separate the two entities, mother snd baby, to deliver individuality and freedom to both…there just needed to be a little push. A little force. Just a little more, and you would be able to forever sever this rotting chord that ties you to this marriage .
Every day, Caleb would come home and wonder what changed your demeanor so much. And you’d wonder when your husband would grow the balls to tell you that MC is pregnant with his baby.
He didn’t on week one. Or two. Or three. Or four. And as you can guess…
He didn’t speak a word when MC posted a gender reveal (week 19) online, the cutting of the triple-tiered cake revealing flamingo-pink insides. Caleb liked that post, you saw.
He also didn’t mention a word when MC announced a baby shower (week 28), which you were also invited to (the gall. can you imagine the audacity?). You had acted perfectly amicable, presenting MC with a hug and a basket of gifts. Caleb had gone to congratulate Zayne. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony.
By the time the date hit 30 weeks after you overheard their conversation, you had had enough.
If Caleb was going to be a coward about it, then you would force him to confront the truth.
…
Week 34 was fast approaching. You knew a normal pregnancy would end at about 37 weeks to 40, so when Caleb, suddenly, in the middle of your morning shot up from his seat after answering a call, you were surprised.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
“MC had th—her baby.”
“Already?” You hummed. “It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Caleb gasped, practically sprinting to put on his jacket hanging by the bannister, “That’s why I need to go see her. Now.”
“No wait!” You stood up, grabbing his wrist. “I’m coming too.”
“No.” He replied. “You shouldn’t. Someone needs to stay home with our daughter. And I won’t be long.”
“No, no!” You chirped merrily, picking up your daughter from her high chair. “Let’s bring our baby. After all, she should get to know her new half-sister.”
You enjoyed watching the colour suddenly bleach from his face.
“What?” His tone was chilling, shaken, almost boyish.
“You heard me.” You fished out the car keys from the little ceramic dish near the front door. “Come on.“
“[name]—“
“I thought you were in a hurry to go.”
“[name].” Firmer, now.
“So let’s go.”
“[NAME]!” Caleb yelled. It was the first time he had yelled at you.
“What is it?” You blinked back.
Caleb’s eyes were bloodshot. His shoulders heaved.
“How long…have you known?”
“I think the better question is, Caleb,” Your face, he thought, was frighteningly unreactive. “When were you planning on telling me?”
He threw his hands down, turning away from you. “I was going to tell you today. After the baby was born.”
“So you can force me to face the consequences of your actions? If I like it or not? Is that why?”
“No! Don’t put words in my mouth.” He faced you again. “I was going…I was going to…”
“To what?”
“To work something out.”
“And how was that going to end?”
“I—“
“I’ll tell you how that was going to end, Caleb Xia.” You stabbed your finger against his solid chest. “It would end in me having to make sacrifices. It would end up in me in pain, over and over again, just to cope with how you’ve decided to treat me! I will be the one at a loss while you, you will get what you’ve always wanted. Every decision you’ve made was never for me. It was always either for you or for MC! I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth when you tell me that you’ll ’work something out’. I know you’ll give me the short end of the straw. You already have, for every day we’ve been married. Yet you never realise, because of course in the end whatever happens would work out for you, because it always fucking does!”
“[name].” Caleb breathed, “Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to—“
“I’ll be home as quick as I can.” He said, pulling on his shoes at the door. “And then we’ll settle this.”
You laughed.
“Oh, Caleb.”
You watched as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.
“I’m sure you’ll find yourself right at home.” You said with a smile.
…
“Caleb, come quick!” MC giggled, waving her hand to usher him in. “I just sent Zaynie to go out to the cafe to buy me some lunch.”
Caleb looked over at the bassinet, where a tiny wriggly baby wrapped in white lay. His lips broke out into a smile, a little wider than when he had first met his daughter with you, before gently, very gently reaching into the blankets, prying them apart, to reveal the scrunched up face of his new daughter.
He instantly folded, a finger stroking her wrinkly cheeks.
“Hey there, sweetheart…” Caleb cooed, as the baby made an uncommitted sound.
She was tiny. Wrinkly. But to Caleb, she was one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. She was part of him, and part of MC, after all.
Caleb took an awed breath in, as she fluttered her eyelashes, opening her eyes to reveal…
Big, green eyes.
Her eyes were green.
A bright, mocking, hazel.
Just.
Like.
Her father’s.
Zayne.
…
“What the fuck?” Caleb spun to MC, “You said—“
“Well…” MC smiled devilishly, a telltale sign that she knew the entire time, “I assumed wrong, I guess.”
“But you told me it was from that one night when—“
“There’s no way I could have conceived her with you from just one night, compared to how many times I’ve fucked Zayne around the same time.” She noticed Caleb wince in uncomfort at the mention of her activities with her husband. “You were right. Aren’t you always, gege.”
“But—“
“Caleb, the baby isn’t yours.” MC snapped.
He stood by the beside, shellshocked.
She exhaled out of her nose, smoothing out her blankets. “There is no ‘but’ to it.”
Caleb let out an exasperated breath. “I can’t believe you lied to me. You lied to be about something this important!”
“I had to!” Suddenly, her voice turned an 180 and became a pitiful, little cry.
“Gege…I was trying to help you…you married [name] and seemed to be so upset all the time, so I had to think of a way to get you out of that marriage. And see, now…” She smiled, “She’s out of the picture and will never bother you again.”
“You don’t understand!” Caleb shook his wrist out of her grasp, “I would never have…have put [name] through all this if it wasn’t my child to begin with.“
“Come on, Cay, you’re just being selfish now.” MC picked at her nails, “It’s all for the best. You didn’t enjoy being married to her in the first place anyway. I can’t believe you went through all the trouble of having a kid with her just to prove that you were over me. You’re so pathetic, gege.” She chuckled.
Caleb felt as if he could not move. MC’s voice seemed to become a distant echo, until…
“Gege?”
He snapped back into reality. Caleb frantically began pulling on his jacket, turning his back to MC, his shallow breaths filling the room.
“Gege, don’t go.” She said softly, “It’s all for the best. You’ll still be an uncle to the baby. To our family. We’ll be together again, aren’t you happy about that?”
Caleb’s hand tightened on the door. He turned to look at MC, with the most hollow look in his eyes she’d ever seen him possess. Emptier even than the time she renounced him as her gege.
“No.” He replied curtly, pushing the door open.
“Caleb Xia.” MC barked. “Xia Yizhou!”
For the first time, Caleb didn’t look back to her.
…
Caleb wasn’t sure how many speed limits he broke while making his way home, but from the look of the bumper, he should be expecting a few tickets soon.
He was in a daze as he got out of the car, almost stumbling to the front door of the house, unlocking it.
He was ready. To apologise. To kneel before you and beg for forgiveness.
Anything at all.
To go back to the beginning. To make things right, as they should be between a husband and his wife.
To be a family. You, him and your precious baby, that you gave him.
He opened the door.
The house was silent.
Almost empty.
Empty…
The empty table. The empty living room. The empty bedrooms. The empty nursery. It was as if the house had reversed to its first day Caleb had moved in, where every inch was shrouded by plastic wrap and packed in cardboard. When no life had been breathed into his home.
A home without love is just a house, after all. How long had Caleb been trying to change that?
How long had he stayed, in denial, that his goal had actually been long fulfilled?
Where are the people who made his house a home?
“[name]?” Caleb called out. “[name]? Where are you?”
A prickling feeling creeped up against his spine as Caleb made his way back into the kitchen, where you had the fight just before he left. The plates had been cleared away, leaving only a sticky note taped onto the table.
You finally got your dream. I hope you can be happier with MC and your family with her. It’s all for the best. Love, [name] :)
Caleb fell to his knees.
A choked cry echoed through the house.
What dream? What family?
What had he forsaken to chase after his selfish needs?
ꮼ jason!sukuna is always so pent up when he comes home
big & tall hot killer sukuna, est relationship, explicit smut, penetrative & unprotected sex, cervix kissing, creampie, & not proofread. art by kcocaine.
You could just tell Sukuna was exhausted when he got home, tossing his hockey mask onto the floor, spitting out some blood into the ashtray that must've seeped through the holes on the cheeks, before groaning & making his way to the bathroom,
He'd been out, killing. Again & it seemed this group of teenagers had greatly pissed him off.
Which of course meant you'd have to listen to him complain, extensively, like you did every time he'd dealt with a particularly nasty group.
Though he has a nice way to keep from boring you with his rants...
Sukuna huffed, folding you into a mean mating press as he sank the tip into your greedy walls, watching your eyes flutter. "Not even in yet and you're already losing it."
"Ryo." You grumbled, swatting lazily at his chiseled chest, "Don't be a prick, quick teasing."
"Yeah? Quit teasing? Okay." He hissed roughly, before quickly bottoming out in a single thrust, each thick inch stretching you around him with a hiss.
"Sukuna!" You hissed, sinking your nails into his shoulder, accompanied with a whine as his abs tensed.
"Quit squeezing so tight." He grunted, holding his hips steady, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. "We just started. Can't have you thinking I'm a minute man all of a sudden."
Your free hand pressed against his abs, pushing his hips back just a little. "Jesus Kuna, warn a girl first." Your thumb trailed against his happy trail for a moment before flicking your eyes up to meet his gaze. "You can keep going."
He stayed still for only a moment longer, before giving an experimental thrust & audibly moaned at the sensation. "Fuck, you're perfect."
He watched a flush of red dust the apples your cheeks, before setting a downright ruthless pace, pressing his face against your throat with a groan.
The sweet sting of his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust caused your spine to tingle.
"Oh, baby. Just like that you feel so good." You whined softly into his ear, and it felt like your body was levitating rather than being pinned by him.
His mouth buzzed as he pulled back with a grumble, "Stupid fucking teens, trespassing all the ti—" He gave a particularly cruel thrust & instantly paused at the sensation of your nails sinking into his shoulder.
"Tough day?" You teased, playfully scratching down his back for a moment before he shot you an icy glare & buried himself to the hilt.
"Yes, it was a tough day." He hissed, rolling his hips against yours, drawing a lewd gasp from your lips before grinning & drawing his hips back to set a relentless pace once more. "Trespassers never learn."
"Aw, baby—ngh—you still do good." You assured, eyes fluttering as he repeatedly brushed your g-spot.
"I know that." Sukuna rasped, gripping your hips, pistoning his cock in and out with a scowl on his face. "Doesn't mean I—fuck—like people bothering us."
His eyebrows briefly twisted in pleasure before a deep groan escaped his lips.
"Mm-hmm. I know." You nodded against the pillow, trying to keep your voice steady as the tightness grew in your lower stomach, crushing Sukuna against your chest. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
Sukuna took the sign to shut up & latched his mouth to your throat, as his thrusts became sloppier.
He sucked on the skin of your throat & rubbed your hips as his abs tensed, thighs shaking against the round of your ass with a groan.
Grasping a tuff of his hair, you peeled his off and pressed your lips against his as white-hot pleasure tore through your bodies.
He thrusted one last time before spilling his seed deep in your womb before sighing breathlessly. "Fuck."
"Do you feel better?" You cooed, bringing a hand to rub his rough cheek, before kissig the one opposit his face.
"Don't patronize me." He hissed before kissing your forehead. "Yes. I do."
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : not sure if anyone's written a jason!kuna fic before, but I saw fanart of my favorite character to write for & my favorite horror movie, so I whipped this up !
it’s not the first time you’ve noticed gojo’s eyes lingering on your thighs, if you’re wearing something short enough to show them off, he’s looking. you can practically feel the way his eyes watch you walk around his apartment in your short skirt, skin burning at his attention.
without looking at him, you call back, “you’re staring.”
you can hear the way he shifts on the couch, “no i’m not.” pretending to watch the tv after being caught.
skirt swaying a little as you walk, “yeah, you are.” stopping right in front of him, “in fact, you’ve been staring a lot lately, pervert.”
“you have no proof of this,” denying further for no good reason, eyes flicking to your thighs.
hands on your hips, “lying to your girlfriend is bad, satoru.” moving your fingers to the hem of your skirt, playing with it like you might lift it up, “especially when you lie badly.”
he immediately drops all pretences, sitting up straight, “you’ve caught me red handed, i’ve been staring shamelessly.” gojo’s eyes are intently watching how you continue to play with your skirt, sparkle of excitement in them.
“mhm, i wanna know why.”
“because you’re just so pretty,” blinking up at you with a grin on his face.
you flip up your skirt completely, getting bored of his deflection. mostly though, you just want to see what he’ll do. the reaction you get from him is immediate, hands on your thighs, groping at you. dragging himself off the couch until he’s on his knees in front of you. lips tickling against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
his kisses turn to little nips, sucking hickeys into you. it’s almost like he’s trying to devour you, teeth biting into you a little harder, no doubt a perfect impression left behind. the suddenness shocks you and you’re dropping your skirt, his head hidden underneath it.
gojo speaks between open-mouthed and desperate kisses, “i love everything about you, really. everything.” he licks over a bite mark, “but your thighs. fuck– sweetie, you drive me crazy in your short skirts,” big hands squeezing at you, “you’re just so damn soft and tempting.”
“ah!– satoru, wait,” your legs are getting a little wobbly.
he noses at your clothed pussy, the way he loudly inhales makes you flush hot. his mouth opening wide and pressing his tongue shamelessly against your cunt, material of your panties dampening from his saliva. you move a hand to his hair and tug, it makes him whine, the vibrations shooting through your core deliciously.
your legs would truly give out if he weren’t holding onto you, the way he’s mouthing at your needy pussy making you all dazed. folding forward and basically using his large back to hold yourself up. moaning a little desperately, thrills running through you at how badly he wants you.
all too quickly, he moves so he’s got you over his shoulder and is carrying you away to his bedroom. on top of you as soon as you’re dropped onto the bed, his lips on yours. urgent and imploring, almost begging.
he breathes against you, eyes pleading, “will you let me fuck your thighs, pretty?” kissing you again, “please?”
