Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The air in the car is too hot, too thick. You feel like you’re suffocating.

You were on the way home when Toji got the call offering him a job. The target was somewhere in the area and he was quick to accept it.

No matter how much Toji insisted it would be fast– “jus’ gonna scope things out a bit, we’ll be home soon, doll”– you were still pouting. 

You didn’t want to be home soon , you wanted to be home now.  

He’d been flirting all night. Sparing glances, touches, whispering about everything he planned to do to you at the end of the night. Your panties were already drenched, clinging uncomfortably to your aching pussy.

“Can’t you do this tomorrow?” Your voice is whiny, high-pitched. The way it sounds when you’re trying to get what you want. The way it sounds when Toji says you're being a brat. 

Eventually, his patience snapped. 

And that’s how now, he has you straddling his lap with his cock stuffed inside your dripping cunt. He’s stretching you out so well as you bury your flushed face into his chest.

You want to ride him, want to fuck yourself down onto him over and over, milking him until he spills inside you. You want to feel every inch dragging along your gummy walls. But he won’t let you. 

You squirm, clamping down around his length when you feel it twitch inside you. Fuck, you were gonna be the death of him.

A sharp smack! lands on your ass– a warning. 

“Told ya to sit still, didn’ I? Sit still and look pretty warmin’ my cock”

“Toji… wan’ you to fuck me.”

“Later, doll. Promise.”

You’re sweating, trying to not move, whimpering into his shirt as you grip his arms. You feel your pussy grow impossibly wetter, slick coating the tops of his muscled thighs.

The tension hanging in the air is stifling and Toji’s jaw is clenched painfully tight– almost as tight as the grip on his phone. A muffled voice comes through the speaker, their words undecipherable through your haze. Shiu.

Toji’s chest rumbles against you, a low chuckle escaping him.

“Forgot to mute ya, my bad,” his voice drawls on lazily as he gyrates his hips slowly. You have to bite down on your lip to stifle your moans. 

Chapter Text

Sometimes, when you wake, you’re filled with an inescapable kind of desire. A yearning for your sweet husband, one so strong it feels like the inches between you stretch on for miles. Your stomach fluttering, your pretty pussy is already wet and glistening.

Sunlight creeps through the blinds, casting golden shadows across Kento’s face. He always looks the most content in these moments– chest rising and falling gently, sharp features and dark circles softened by the illumination. You relish in the domesticity of your tranquil mornings together. 

You cuddle up to him, a leg thrown over his hips, fingertips dancing across his chest. He stirs, grumbling something incoherent as one of his arms hooks around you, cradling you to his body.

You’re peppering kisses along his jaw, nuzzling into his neck with a serene sigh and quiet good morning, baby. He squeezes you tighter and your breath hitches, a moment of pause in your shower of affection when you feel his thigh slot between your own. 

It seems innocent enough, a small adjustment, just him getting comfortable. But Kento’s always been diligent. Precise. Not one to miss anything. And he can feel you, pulsing against him.

“Mmm, does my gorgeous girl need something?” His voice is laced with sleep, low and raspy, which only heightens your need.

You hum softly in response, pressing another light kiss just below his ear as you slowly grind once against him.

Large hands come down to your hips. “Go on, my pretty, take what you need.”

He guides you, lazily dragging your pussy against his thigh, holding you steady. You pant softly, whimpering in his ear each time he flexes, nudging your sensitive clit. He loves when you use him, taking your pleasure from him and he’s barely doing anything at all. 

He’s whispering adoring little praises to you as you unravel, your slick spilling out, spread around the top of his thigh.

My perfect wife

So beautiful when you cum

I can never get enough of you 

Chapter Text

You’re lounging on his bed like this is a common occurrence for you two, scrolling aimlessly on your phone. In the background there’s the familiar click of a lighter, your favorite song playing softly, the pungent smell of weed. Sukuna’s peering at you through heavy-lidded, red eyes. A neatly rolled blunt rests between his painted fingers, smoke rolling off the cherry as he brings it to his lips and inhales. 

“Tuesdays.” 

It’s said offhandedly, Sukuna doesn’t even think you heard yourself and it makes him scoff at you, an amused smile playing at his lips.

“Figured. Y’know, since it’s just us.” He’s holding the blunt out towards you, exhaling through his nose. 

“Oh– right,” you mumble, gracing him with a sheepish smile of your own now. Flipping onto your stomach, you prop yourself up on your elbows as he passes to you. 

Sukuna’s been your dealer for a while now. Since you started buying from him you never looked back– he sells the best shit, actually responds, and well, he’s hot. There's not much else to it. He'd invite you to smoke sometimes, you know, to test the product . But it was usually when he had friends over, and always when you were already there to pick up. Never because he just hit you up with an invite to ‘come chill or something.’ Until tonight, that is.

Smoke fills your lungs and your gaze meets Sukuna’s lingering one as a haze you recognize all too well begins to set in. He's looking at you with an expression you can’t quite place. It has your stomach turning though, a rosy tint blooming in your cheeks. You pass back to him, leaning forward, chest pressed between your arms. it’s fast but you see it. the drift in his eyeline down to your cleavage. But then his eyes are back on yours, like nothing happened. 

The feeling in your core grows stronger, twisting and turning with every brush of your fingertips and every other glance at your chest, too many now to be considered innocent. Tension hangs like a cloud between you two, thicker than the grey smoke that’s filled the room. You’re fidgeting, racking your fried brain for something smooth to say or a slick move to make when– 

“Wanna make out?”

“...Yeah.”

Sukuna’s pinned beneath you, rough hands palming at your tits as you grind down on him. You're panting, gasping for air with each opportunity as you devour one another. His tongue slides against yours and swipes at your bottom lip before he pulls it between his teeth. He kisses you like it might be the last thing he ever does and you’re more than happy to be his lifeline. 

Sukuna pulls your top over your head and his mouth trails down your neck to your chest, planting kisses along the way as you thread your hands through his hair. He takes one of your nipples between his lips, and you gasp, breath hitching as you grind down harder against him. He sucks gently, tongue flicking at it as he kneads your other breast with his hand.

You roll your hips, feeling your clothed entrance catch on the tip of the bulge in his pants, and he whimpers . So you do it again, convinced your ears were playing tricks on you. And it happens again. The cutest little sound coming from the 6’4” man made of muscle and ink that’s laid between your legs. 

You’re a woman possessed. You’re grinding against him just like that, over and over, as you watch his brow furrow and his jaw clench, and it’s still not enough to stop the slurry of grunts and groans from spilling out.

Rough hands plant themselves firmly on your waist with a bruising grip. “W-wait, stop ‘m gonna– fuck. ” His body shudders, and you feel it. The way his cock is pulsing against your cunt, a wet spot forming at the apex of his grey sweatpants. 

“No way, what are you, 15?”

You’re teasing, knowing full well that was what you wanted, but now he’s had enough of your shit. Before you can process what’s happening your face is pressed into the mattress and he’s spreading your knees apart and pulling your shorts down.

“Gonna pay for that.”

“Uh-huh, right, jus’ like I’m paying for this weed.” 

Sukuna pushes two fingers inside you and you moan loudly into the pillow. 

“You’re a fuckin’ pain in my ass.”

Chapter Text

Satoru’s behind you, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he fucks you with agonizingly steady, deep strokes. He’s seething, teeth clenched as he tries to hold onto his restraint. It’s too slow. Not enough for either of you to even begin to approach your climax, but it’s just enough to have your pussy leaking, the tears rolling down the inside of your thighs providing company to the ones staining your cheeks. 

“Aw, that pussy’s cryin’, poor thing. see that Satoru?” 

Suguru’s voice is void of any real sympathy. He’s sitting in the chair beside your bed like it’s his throne, legs spread, fully reclined, his stiff cock resting in his hand as he strokes himself languidly. There’s a lazy grin on his lips, his hooded eyes are glued to the scene before him. A king and his oh, so loyal subjects. 

“Bet you want more, huh?” 

“Please… Suguru, please more.” You need it. Need to feel satoru’s dick kissing your cervix as he pounds into you relentlessly, but it’ll never happen. At least not until Suguru is ready to give that to you. 

“Hmm, Satoru? You want that?” He’s goading him, wearing down at that last ounce of pride residing within him. The real command goes unsaid. Beg me.

“F-fuck you, y’know what I want.” His voice is clipped, irritation rolling off of him in waves. And yet, his pace is consistent, unwilling to defy your voyeur.

“Yeah, jus’ keep fuckin’ her like that then, nice and slow. ” 

You’re cursing under your breath, pleading desperately, but this time with Satoru. You’re not sure how much longer you can take it, this constant, weak stimulation. It leaves your body buzzing, but gives you no relief, reaching a point where it’s painful. Aching. And you know just how patient Suguru can be. 

It feels like hours go by, even though it's only been minutes. You’re a whimpering, sopping mess already and Satoru can’t take it anymore. He breaks. And he begs. His tone pitchy and whiny, he doesn’t care how humiliating it is.

“Suguru lemme go h-harder, fuck! Please, Sugu.”

“That’s a good boy,” he coos, taunting and cruel. “Go on, ruin her. ”

And he does. Like a switch flipped inside him, Satoru’s fucking you brutally. His hard cock bullying your gummy walls as he slams himself into you, to the hilt, each and every time. One hand in your hair, the other’s still on your ass as he forces a deeper arch.

Suguru’s pumping himself faster now too, fucking up into his hand, squeezing and twisting, chasing his own climax with the same fervor as Satoru. A symphony of moans, the sound of skin on skin, the smell of sex, it all fills the air around you. 

“‘mgonnacum–” Your words slur together, borderline incoherent, but even if they didn’t hear you, they know.

Satoru can feel you clenching down on cock, sucking him back inside each time he pulls out. Suguru notices the subtle change in your breathing, ragged little gasps for air as you get closer to your release. And your hands, balled into tight fists, grip the sheets for stability.

“Let go, baby– not you, Satoru– not until she does.” A strangled sound comes from Satoru, half sob, half groan, as he feels you shaking, your gushing pussy just milking him. 

“S-so fuckin’ tight– shit ” 

To his credit, Satoru does what he’s told. He waits until you’re done cumming, but just barely. The second he feels your shaking turn into trembling and your breath turn shallow, he’s spilling himself inside you with a loud grunt. 

Suguru revels in the obscene view laid out before him. Your flushed, naked bodies still stuck together as your cum leaks out around his base, slick and creamy, dribbling onto the duvet. One last stroke, one last squeeze, and it’s his turn. Suguru's climax hits just as hard as yours, cum spurting out onto his hand and stomach as rambles on about how perfect you both are for him.

Chapter Text

Muffled voices come through the door that’s been shut for almost the entire weekend. Nanami has been swamped with work, back to back conference calls and presentations being the only thing he’s had time for these past few days. He’s been living like a hermit, stowed away in his office, only emerging for the occasional meal or bathroom break, and each time, his dark circles look deeper than the last.

You’re supportive of his work, of course, but you worry about him– your sweet, overworked husband.

You huff, chin resting in your hand as you sit alone in the kitchen, pushing the food you cooked for dinner around your plate. Nanami always does so much for you, and you wish you could just take all his stress away. Brows furrowed in concentration you rack your brain for some kind of magical answer.

And when the answer comes to you, you pause. Wondering to yourself if it really is the superb idea that you think it is. But within seconds you’re already shrugging off the hesitation and shrugging on your favorite little babydoll top and a matching pair of panties. Guess you'll find out.

You gingerly reach for the door to the office, turning the knob slowly and pushing it open with a soft creak, before slipping inside.

A cluster of voices are still sounding from the computer as nanami’s eyes shoot up, watching warily as you make your way over to him.

“Everything…” he trails off as he scans your outfit, gaze lingering, before he clears his throat and looks back up at you. “Everything alright, princess?”

“Mhm, just miss you, Kento.” You push his chair back, just enough to make room for you to slot yourself between his legs. “Haven’t been able to see you all weekend,” you pout, beginning to sink to your knees.

“Darling, what are you doing?” he asks, his tone laced with warning.

“Taking care of you.” You flash him an innocent smile as your hands spread his knees apart, then move to his waistband, unbuttoning his slacks.

“i’m on a call,” he protests. though it hardly seems like he means it considering he still lifts his hips for you, allowing you to slide his pants down, just enough to free his already stiff cock.

Looking up at him you wrap a hand gently around the base as your tongue lolls out, moving to give his flushed head a few kitten licks. You can taste the precum that’s already dribbling out as Nanami grunts above you. One of his hands comes to rest atop your head, not harsh, but heavy. A sign of his approval and an urge to continue.

You suck him in, little by little, taking your time to spread your saliva along his shaft as your tongue swirls around him with each languid bob of your head. You continue, just long enough for him to start unraveling between your lips, and then you pull off of him with a soft pop! You meet his eyes once more, stroking him lazily with a light grip, you swipe your thumb along his slit with every few pumps.

“Want me to keep going, Kenny?”

His eyelids flutter, his words escaping him with a sigh, “yes, sweets, keep going.”

“And after your meeting? What then?” You squeeze his length and his breath hitches.

“Then I’m all yours.”

“Promise?”

“Promise–” Nanami’s barely able to give you his word before you’re lowering your hot mouth onto him again, taking his entire length down your throat this time.

You flatten your tongue, gliding it along the veiny underside of his cock, flicking it against his frenulum each time you pull back. Nanami rewards you with a deep groan. Your mouth waters when he hits the back of your throat, spit threatening to spill out the corners. Quiet gags and gurgles come from beneath Nanami’s desk and the lewd sounds coupled with the sight of his gorgeous girl on her knees before him has his grip tightening in your hair.

“Just like that… shit.”

His body is already telling you how good you feel with each stutter of his hips, each heavy breath, each pulse of his cock. But you never get tired of hearing him grunt out those praises to you, reminding you of how well you’re doing for him.

You moan around him in response, working him harder, faster, as one of your hand moves to cup his balls. You fondle them gently, squeezing and rolling, just how he's taught you before. His breathing grows heavier, a steady crescendo of pants and grunts escaping him when–

“Nanami, what do you think about that?”

His coworkers fall silent after, patiently awaiting his opinion on something, and you’re sure that he has no idea what that something is.

You know you shouldn’t find it amusing, but the corners of your lips twitch as you hear him scrambling above you to unmute himself. You take the opportunity to hollow your cheeks, sucking him in tighter, toying with him.

He shoots you an inconspicuous glare before stuttering out the most generic, thoughtless, and not-nanami reply, “S-sure, sounds fine.”

If the others on the call were hoping for more from him, they didn’t show it, nor were they going to get it, because his mic was already muted again, both hands now resting on either side of your head.

“You little minx, tryin’ to get me in trouble?” His tone is clipped, strained, as his hips twitch again, bucking up into you slightly. You try to shake your head but you can’t, not with him stuffing your mouth and his hands holding you in place.

He starts slowly, rolling his hips to make sure you’re able to take him. And when he’s sure, he moves faster, harder. He’s fucking himself into your mouth, chasing down his own climax, trying to finish before his meeting does. Your hands fly to his thighs for stability, but you let him use you, a familiar, warm wetness pooling between your thighs.

You love your sweet husband, of course, but there’s a special kind of excitement that comes when he gets like this. When his near-infinite patience with you finally snaps, and he gets rougher, more dominant.

“Just couldn’t– fuck- couldn’t wait? You had to interrupt my work?”

You moan, tears pricking your eyes as his cockhead abuses the back of your throat. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, glancing up at him with watery eyes and he can’t help the loud moan that tumbles out from his chest. His perfect wife, so eager for him, so lovingly allowing him to fuck her face.

He doesn’t last much longer. A few more sloppy thrusts and you feel his rhythm finally waver before he stills. He cums with a guttural groan. His hot, salty, release spills onto your tongue, and you swallow it all, determined not to waste a drop. A moment later he pulls you off of him, large hands moving to caress your cheeks, wiping away the mascara that smudged under your waterline as you both catch your breath.

His touch is gentle, but the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, they’re stern when he dismisses you.

“I’ll find you when i finish up here. I'm nowhere near done with you, darling”

Chapter Text

Sukuna was loud. Not just in the way that his voice carried, but him. His hulking frame that filled whatever room he was in, his tattoos and piercings that drew stares and pulled whispers from those he was with, his mere presence was impossible to ignore.

And because of that, it always seemed like others got louder around him too. Like they were trying to compete with him, fearing that they'd get lost in his shadow if they didn't. Sometimes it was amusing. Sometimes sukuna relished in the knowledge that others would do so much, just because they were intimidated, maybe insecure, or just wanted his attention. But there were times too, like tonight, where he just couldn't stand it — that there was never a moment of silence.

He was on edge more than usual already, having had a trying day, but he still decided to go out to the bars with some friends. He thought maybe it would take his mind off things.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

The entire night was a fucking headache. His jaw was aching from how hard he was clenching it in irritation. His temples and the spot between his eyes were throbbing from having his brows furrowed all night. It felt like everyone was in a 'let's piss sukuna off' competition, and they were all winning. And so, after only a mere hour, he was pulling out his phone and clicking on your contact, practically begging you to come pick him up.

You laughed softly through the line, and he could already feel the tension in his shoulders dissipating. He felt like he could finally breathe again when you told him be there in five.

Shortly after that, Sukuna found his relief in the oasis that was your apartment. It was warm from having the oven on, the familiar aroma of chocolate chip cookies filled the air, a lingering sweetness on his tongue from the few (ten) that he ate.

You both had already changed back into your pajamas, your hair held back with fluffy pink headbands, face masks on. He was laid across your couch that was much too small for someone of his size, his head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his head lightly. He had his hand resting on your thigh, mindlessly tracing little circles on your skin. His favorite moments were always these ones. With you. When he could finally enjoy a moment of peace and just be. No pressure to conform to the the loud persona everyone imagined him as.

And so, the two of you sat in comfortable silence as the tv played softly in front of you, rolling an old 2000's chick flick (that he'd picked out).

Chapter Text

Nanami

Your feet are dragging, eyelids heavy on your commute. Work had been especially hard today and a pit of dread forms in your stomach when you imagine the scene waiting for you at home. A picture of empty, drab walls, dusty floors, and boxes. So many boxes. You and nanami had just bought your first house together, and as exciting as it was, the entire moving process had been a nightmare. Though, to be fair, it would have been much worse if you weren’t married to the most considerate man alive.

Which is why you should have predicted that, in reality, when you got home from work, the boxes would be almost gone. Paintings were hung on the wall just the way you’d imagined (he must have been looking at your pinterest board), furniture moved, rugs unrolled, and dinner in the making. Nanami must have been unpacking all day, poor thing.

You’re standing in the doorway looking like a fish out of water — mouth agape, opening and closing stupidly as you take in the sight. A soft chuckle comes from the kitchen where Nanami cooking.

“What is it, darling?”

“You- did you do all this, today?”

“I did. I took off work.”

“You shouldn’t have, we could have done it together… you must be exhausted.” Your brows knit together in genuine concern and it makes his heart constrict. Always so worried about him.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. You go get ready for dinner, it’ll be done soon.”

You’re about to say something else but he cuts you off with just a look, the expression on his face making it clear that he isn’t going to debate this anymore. So you slip off your shoes and trudge towards the bedroom in defeat. Sometimes he could be so stubborn.

You push the door open and another sigh escapes you when you see it’s completely unpacked too. He did almost the entire house alone.

“You’re going to throw out your back!” you shout from the bedroom.

“How old do you think i am?” he yells back, amusement in his voice.

And then you see it.

The bed is made. Not that that isn’t normal in and of itself, though normally you’re the one to make it in the mornings since you usually leave for work after Nanami. But you’d left it unmade today when you hurried out the door, since he was still home. And now it was made, sheets no doubt clean and pressed beneath the duvet that was nearly wrinkle-free, pillows fluffed and stacked neatly.

But right in the middle, it’s there. Your childhood teddy bear. Not just loosely thrown on the bed, or just sat up against the pillows. No. Tucked in. Little legs and torso snug under the covers, only his head poking out.

You’re beaming from ear to ear at the adorable sight and the image in your head of your darling husband taking the time to do that.

“Honey? Can you come here?” you call out for him.

You hear his footsteps coming down the hall before he pokes his head in the door.

“Everything okay?”

You turn to him and the look on your face is something he’ll never forget. Eyes wide with adoration, big toothy grin, and he can’t for the life of him figure out why you look so enamored.

“…Yes, my love?”

“You tucked him in,” you say, pointing at your teddy.

The red tint that spreads across his cheeks is just precious. He’d forgotten that he even did that. It was so many hours ago, and he’d been so wrapped up with working on the rest of the house.

“Yeah, well,” he clears his throat, gaze averted, “it just felt like the right place for him.”

You lunge towards him, arms wrapping around his neck, and his quickly close around your waist to catch you right before you press your lips to his lovingly.

“You’d be such a good dad,” you mumble between kisses.

And the look of shock laced with hope on his face is almost better than the surprise that was waiting for you when you got home.

“You think so?” His thumbs caress your hips tenderly, his eyes locked on yours.

“I know so.”

Sukuna

You and Sukuna had been dating for a while, so when he asked you to move in with him it wasn’t really a shock. Well, maybe it was to his friends, who never thought they’d see the day where he'd really settle down with someone. But for you, it wasn’t surprising. He’d always been that kind of person in your relationship — the kind who was committed, loyal, loving. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have your concerns at the start of the relationship, but they were soon washed away the more comfortable that Sukuna became around you. He was thoughtful, his actions showing how closely he listened to you even with his usual dismissive demeanor. And behind closed doors, he loved being cared for. He loved when you showered him with kisses, cooked for him, showed how you cared.

The first night of living together was one of wine, takeout, movies, and… what usually happens when the two of you spend the night together. He’d insisted that you guys could start unpacking the next day, and that there was no need to worry about it just yet. He simply wanted to spend the night in each others company, enjoying the new reality, the next step in your relationship.

In the morning, you woke with a soft smile on your face, heavy breathing next to you and heavier arms wrapped tightly around you. Yeah, you could get used to this.

Sukuna grumbled tiredly, stirring as you peppered soft kisses on his face.

“Good morning, baby.” His voice was raspy, sleepy.

“I’m going down the street to that café to get breakfast, I’ll be back soon.” You gave him one last kiss on the lips before slipping out of his grasp before he could trap you in bed with him.

As much as you wanted to stay, the rumbling in your stomach was getting hard to ignore.

There’s a drink carrier in one hand and a paper bag of pastries in the other when you get back to your new home. Inside, Sukuna’s set the table already and is lounging on the couch watching tv, waiting for you.

His eyes cut up to you when he hears the door creak open, and when he sees your hands are full he’s quick to empty them.

“Oh, it’s okay, I got it, Ryo.”

“I know.” Seems he's a man of few words this morning.

You relent, letting him take the food from your hands and begin unpacking everything. There's no use arguing with him, and at the end of the day, if he really wanted to do it, who are you to argue? He always makes your life a little bit easier.

“I’m gonna set my purse down, I’ll be back,” you let him know as you head to the bedroom to hang up your stuff.

In the corner of the room there’s a few opened boxes that catch your eye. It seems he already started unpacking some of your stuff in the… 30 minutes maximum that you were gone. And somehow also set the table and had time to watch tv. And made the bed?

And that’s when you see what he was rummaging for in the boxes. Resting on your side of the bed, little head against your pillow, little feet under the covers — your teddy bear. He tucked it in. Ryomen Sukuna, your big, bad, inked and pierced boyfriend, tucked in your childhood teddy. The one he’d teased you for still having when the two of you started dating.

“Babe, come here!” You hear the heavy footfalls before you even finish yelling for him.

“What d'ya want?” His tone is gruff but you can see the softness in his expression, a flicker of worry that something might’ve been wrong.

“My teddy bear. You do that?”

He huffs, looking away from you as he grumbles something you can’t quite catch.

A cheshire cat grin spreads across your face when you spot the rosy tips of his ears. Cute. “And here I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Shut up. I don’t, just—“ he cuts himself off, ears burning brighter.

You cross the room, arms wrapping around his waist loosely. “Just?”

A large hand comes to settle atop your head. “You do. This is your place now too, so, y’know.” He’s looking down at you when he finishes speaking, eyes full of sincerity, patting your head affectionately.

You pull him closer and he bends down to plant a kiss to your lips, one that tells you he means it, that this is now a space for both of you. Your home. Together.

“Always knew you were a big softie.”

That makes him recline, eyes narrowing down at you. You’re certain that he’s thinking that you just had to say something, and it makes you giggle, because you know he’s only irked since it’s true.

“Whatever.”

Gojo

You met gojo at a bar one night, and it was the beginning of the rest of your life. Partially because of the night itself, but mostly because of the morning after.

Gojo approached you cautiously and tapped you lightly on the shoulder, asking to buy you a drink. Usually, you'd say no, explaining you were just there to spend time with your friends, not looking for anything to complicate that. But when you looked up at the owner of the velvety voice that spoke to you, you just couldn't bring yourself to say no. And the two of you ended up chatting all night. You hadn’t even realized how much time went by until the ‘last call’ announcement was made, and sure enough, it was already three in the morning.

“Wanna go back to mine? I live close,” you offered, not ready for the night to end yet.

You two got on so well and it’d been so long since you’d met a man who was as genuine as he was. Gojo didn’t buy you a drink only with hopes of getting into your pants, didn’t turn every conversation into a monologue, and he was attractive (to put it lightly). So yeah, you’d be stupid not to invite him over.

You two were hand in hand, nearly skipping the whole walk home. When you'd almost tripped into the road his grip tightened, pulling you back into a broad chest. You turned, eyes swimming with gratitude and adoration when you glanced up at him, then to his lips, and back up. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth when you reached a hand to his nape, fingers threading through his undercut as you closed the space between your lips. The rest of the walk home was poorly navigated between stumbling steps, sloppy kisses, and breathless laughter.

The next afternoon morning, you got up before him, slinking carefully out of his arms, and heading to the kitchen. You'd already brewed a pot of coffee and were halfway done mixing the pancake batter when you heard the bedroom door creak open, a mess of white hair and two cerulean eyes peeking out from behind it.

Once Gojo saw you in the kitchen he straightened out, a wide smile on his face. “God morning.”

“Good morning to you too,” you grinned back.

He crossed the room, towering over your shoulder as the strong arms that were wrapped around you all night returned to their home around your waist. He looked down at the bowl in your hands with a childlike curiosity. “What’re you making?”

“Pancakes. I hope that’s alright, you said you like sweet over savory.” Your recollection of the minor detail only made his smile impossibly bigger before he planted a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Pancakes are perfect, thank you.”

“Here, you mix. I’ll be right back.”

Before he can question your motives, you’ve already shoved the bowl into his hands and taken off back towards your room. Then you froze in the doorway when you saw it — your bed, neatly made, and propped up cutely on gojo's side was your teddy bear. It was halfway under the covers, all tucked in.

“Gojo!” you shrieked from the bedroom, catching him by surprise and causing the wooden spoon to fly from his hands. You were only gone a couple of seconds and he already got batter on the walls and counter top.

“Yes?” he replies meekly, worried that maybe you’re mad because he touched your stuff. But when you come back out laughing, the knot in his chest dissipates.

“I’ve just never had a one night stand make my bed the next day,” you tease him.

“And i’ve never had one make me pancakes,” he shoots back. “What’s your point?”

“You literally tucked in my teddy bear.”

You’re standing there, hand on your hip, eyebrow raised at him and he can’t help but think it’s adorable. Even more adorable than the fact that you still have a teddy bear.

He just shrugs, “he looked cold.”

“You’re so weird.”

“You like it, though,” he retorts, confidently.

You take the bowl back from him, with a side glance and a twitch of your lips that tells him he’s right. Only then, do you finally see the mess in the kitchen.

“What the hell…” you sigh, turning to shoot the culprit a glare that you can only hope is threatening. He backs away, hands raised in surrender, a coy smile on his face.

“You scared me, it’s not my fault.”

“Clean it up.”

He pouts playfully. "Fine."

Chapter Text

sorority girl!shoko who never seemed like the type of person who'd want to join a sorority growing up, and who even now, doesn't seem like the type of girl to be in one. always aloof, with an air about her that made her sisters feel like she always had somewhere else she'd rather be.

sorority girl!shoko who actually didn't like the sorority— the expensive dues, the chapter meetings each week to talk about shit she didn't care about, the boring philanthropy events where she had to smile and greet people, or worse, hold up stupid signs on the side of the road to attract attention.

sorority girl!shoko who still stuck with it. who paid every fee and ate every less-than-appetizing meal prepared by the house chef because even if she hated sorority life, if there was one thing she did like, it was women.

sorority girl!shoko who put up with everything she disliked about greek life because it meant she was living in a house with 30 other girls, and sharing a room with three of them. it meant communal showers and soft little pajama shorts. giggles from down the hall and cuddles on the couches while they watched chick flicks.

sorority girl!shoko who was pretty enough to get a bid to any house she wanted, but chose this one because you were there. in your pink, lettered tank top, manicured nails handing out a recruitment flier to her as your glossy lips parted and closed around the sound of her name— you were mesmerizing.

sorority girl!shoko who always asked you to help her with her makeup before going out, even though she knew how to do it just fine. because you were always eager and always so close. plush thighs spread across her hips as you straddled her, your face inches from hers as you leaned over to pass delicate brushes across her eyelids.

and when you were done you'd clap your hands together excitedly, ushering her to the mirror to take a look for herself. the same mirror you'd strip in front of right after, like you couldn't sense her lingering gaze on you as you slid your top over your head and asked innocently "what should i wear?"

sorority girl!shoko who would watch your drink at the frats when you had your back turned, attention stolen away by another 5 foot 6 man in a backwards hat. she'd just watch, stoic, as you smiled politely, slowly pulling yourself away from them to retreat back to her like you always do. and she'd be there every time, ready to slide an arm across your waist and hand your drink back to you as she guides you away from them.

sorority girl!shoko who you'd cling to throughout night because she'd be there to hold your hand through the sweaty, crowd of dancing bodies whenever you said you needed to go to the bathroom.

sorority girl!shoko who was the sweetest girl, at least until you'd pull her into the bathroom with you and lock the door behind you. and she'd pretend like she didn't know what you wanted, even when your soft lips would brush against her neck, your arms wrapping themselves tight around her waist.

she'd let you crawl all over her, panting against her dewy skin, breath hot and laced with need— but she wouldn't give you what you wanted— not until you said it. not until your honeyed voice would cut through the stale air of the bathroom, pulling her away from her spiraling thoughts, away from the muffled music and the smell of spilled beer.

sorority girl!shoko who would give in every time. her resolve finally crumbling once you started to beg, to plead with wide doe eyes and her name on your tongue. and then she'd give you what you wanted— you up on the counter, your knees over her shoulders and her face buried between your thighs.

your hands would thread through her hair, tugging her closer, saccharine moans slipping from your lips and cascading down to her ears. you'd roll your hips against her, pretty pussy dragging your slick along her mouth, her nose, her chin, just for her to clean it all up with her tongue because she wouldn't dare waste a drop. not when she knows that's all she'll get.

sorority girl!shoko who would end the night alone. left to stand out in the cold, her arms wrapped around her body like a shield from the biting cold as you slip into his. she'll pretend she doesn't feel the weight of your gaze on her as she waits for her ride home— back to the house she shares with 30 other girls because she fell for the one girl she has to share with someone else.

Chapter Text

sukuna had asked for your number in class a few days after your little experiment, muttering something about texting you just in case he needs more money— though you distinctly remember not offering him anything at the end of your encounter.

he'd reached out a few times over the next few weeks, asking if he could stop by, but it was rare for you to have the lab to yourself. so, you'd had to turn him down, again and again. until this week. he'd texted again, questioning if you'd be working in the evening after his practice. you're not normally in that late on wednesdays, but neither was the rest of the lab.

come 6:30, you were the last one at the end of your hall, your lab-mates and supervisors already long gone by the time you heard the familiar sound of the door clicking open and falling shut. heavy footsteps shuffled towards you, scuffing against the polished tile until you saw sukuna round the corner to your desk.

he was sweaty, compression shirt clinging to his chiseled torso, pink locks matted on his forehead as he plopped himself in the chair across from you, letting his bag fall to the ground. not one for small talk, he quickly brushed over your polite attempts at conversation, getting straight to the point.

"so, you got any other experiments?"

you hummed, pensive for a moment. "there is one thing…" something you'd wanted to try last time, but didn't get to.

not even 5 minutes later and you're kneeling before him, face to face with his freed cock once more. it's just as big as you remember, just as veiny and pretty. you wet your lips, a look of determination on your face as you open your mouth, taking him into your throat in one less-than-graceful motion. not even halfway and you're gagging, lips sputtering around his length as tears prick your eyes and you pull back quickly, coughing.

the look on his face is on of surprise, confusion, amusement. "you ever sucked dick before?" you shake your head, chest still stuttering with residual coughs. cute. but then you're surging forward again, only for a palm on your forehead to push you back. "easy, woman," sukuna huffs, "gotta train your throat— can't just take it all at once."

your brows knit together as you look up at him again, "oh. do you always have to do that?"

that makes him smirk, reclining as he brings a hand behind his head, manspreading as an air of arrogance settles over him. "only if they're big," he replies coolly.

"okay… and what does the training consist of?" you reply, reaching for your pen.

only, you didn't need your pen. sukuna's a better teacher than you'd expect, but he's more so one for hands-on learning.

his hand is steady in your hair, easing your hot mouth around his tip first, holding you there. "use your tongue— and watch your damn teeth," he grunts. glossy lips parted around the head of his cock, you listen, tongue flicking at the frenulum, lapping at the slit as you bob your head lightly.

once he's humming with approval he leads you deeper, letting you take another couple inches. "thaaat's it, keep doin' that," he praises, moaning low after at the way you keep swiping your tongue along him, swirling it around his shaft. "n use your hands, til you get deeper," he instructs. you're eager, hands coming to meet your lips quickly, pumping him, up and down as you move your head in sync.

you're not sure how long you're down there, with your head between his muscled thighs. but it's long enough where you're already used to the smell of his musk, the scent of sweat no longer clinging to the inside of your nose, and the aching in your knees is already gone, replaced with a dull numbness.

none of that matters though— you're too focused on sucking his cock, trying to remember every instruction he throws at you as your nose nears his pelvis. each time he pushes you to take more you gag again, trying to pull back just for his hand to keep you down. "so close, jus' a lil more," he'll grit out, renewing your determination.

tears fill your waterline, brows furrowed in concentration as you bob your head. tongue flat now, he's too deep and all you can do is hollow your cheeks and slide the slippery muscle along the underside of his shaft. every thought you have is on sukuna, wondering if you're throating him right, telling yourself to keep breathing through your nose, to ignore the spit pooling in your mouth that's starting to seep out. your cheeks flush, you didn't expect it to be so messy.

but you must be doing it right, sukuna never being one to quiet himself— he's still talking you through it, telling you when you do something that feels extra good, letting you know that your mouth feels fuckin' heavenly.

and nothing's better than when you finally feel his pubes tickling the tip of your nose, the head of his cock now buried deep in the back of your throat. he's moaning, hand tightening in your hair at the sight of you beaming up at him with wide, watery eyes, your throat constricting around his length as you let out an accomplished hum.

"fuuuck, there ya go— not so bad now, huh?"

you moan again, stomach flipping at the praise, wetness pooling between your thighs. he drags you up slowly, smirking at how pliant you are, still letting him control you as you navigate your inexperience. and then he's pushing you back down, faster, all the way until he's buried in your warmth again. over, and over, guiding your head up and down until you start to take over.

you're drooling now, spit leaking out the corners of your mouth, dribbling down to his balls. cheeks hollowed still, each time you pull back there's an obscene suction sound, just to be followed by a wet slurp when you take him back in.

it's tiring, your jaw aching and forehead sweaty as you fight to keep up your pace. but he's already close, cock twitching on your tongue in a way that makes your eyebrows shoot up, eyes flicking to the notepad on the floor. and then he's spilling into your mouth, the only warning a quick, 'm gonna cum— shit- before salty, white release coats your throat. he watches in awe as you swallow every drop, because fuck, if you really aren't the fastest learner.

Chapter Text

wrote this in 30 minutes because i woke up thinking about older roommate!toji, who you found through a sketchy looking craigslist ad that made you suspicious, but not enough to live somewhere else once you actually saw him. who swung open the front door to reveal he already had another roommate, one who was covered in tattoos and had dark red eyes.

older roommate!toji who got frustrated when he had to mediate your stupid arguments with roommate!sukuna, but still stepped in every time, making sure things didn't get taken too far.

older roommate!toji who was always dressed in baggy sweatpants or tight gym shorts, but no shirt. never a shirt. whose body looked ridiculously good, and whose face bore a smirk, coy and knowing, each time he caught you staring.

older roommate!toji who always sat too close to you on the couch, thighs touching yours, arm strewn around the back behind your head. who shot roommate!sukuna a shit eating grin each time you subconsciously leaned in towards toji instead of him, who'd be sat on the other side of you. they both knew the other was interested in you, and they both knew it was definitely not a good idea to pursue you, and they both knew they definitely didn't care. especially not when you started wearing shorter shorts around the house, made from soft fabric, the kind that would ride up when you walked and showed the outline of your ass a bit too well. and when you started wearing lower cut tops, no bra, cleavage on full display, he wondered if you knew what you were doing. if you were desperate for his attention, or worse, for sukuna's attention, or if you were really just that oblivious.

older roommate!toji who shared a glance with roommate!sukuna when you opened the fridge to grab beers for them, back arching in a particularly deep bend, the kind that made them both think about what it'd be like to have you in their beds, face buried in the pillows, crying out their names while they fucked you from behind. and toji didn't let go of that image of you. it replayed in his mind over and over, while you curled up next to them on the couch, while you retreated to your room, while sukuna retreated to his room. and he kept thinking about it, as he sat there on the couch, sweatpants half-way down his thighs stroking his cock, the side of his body buzzing where you were pressed up against him, the smell of your perfume still lingering.

older roommate!toji who didn't feel bad about touching himself to the thought of his younger roommate, especially not when he walked by your room and he heard you. soft gasps and muffled moans that were just not quiet enough because he could still hear you whimpering out his name.

Chapter Text

you're not sure how you got here. fingernails digging into the counter top, holding on like your life depends on it, because truly, you think it might. toji has a hand wrapped snug around your throat, pulling back, forcing you into an almost painful arch as he pounds into your poor pussy from behind. his other hand has a bruising grip on your waist and each snap of his hips is fucking brutal, like he's trying to permanently mold the shape of himself into your walls so he can ruin you for anyone else. they'd never be able to fill the space left behind if he did.

stars cloud your vision and you're sputtering pathetically when he tightens the grip on your neck. a strangled cry escapes you, something between a broken sob and the first half of his name.

"what's that?" he mocks, flexing his fingers against you, forcing another gag, another haggard gasp for air as saliva begins to pool in your mouth before trickling out the sides.

the sounds that fill the kitchen and echo off the tiles are completely and utterly obscene. you're sloshing around toji's cock as he splits you open, your arousal coating the insides of your thighs, and more slick just gets pushed out of you each time he shoves his length back into your tight cunt. the way you squeeze him, god, it’s addictive. it always feels like your walls are practically strangling him, unable to let go, and it never matters how much he preps you. your broken moans and his rugged grunts blend together, but above all, there's the lewd sound of skin on skin. each time his hips slam back into you it makes the fat of your ass jiggle, your skin rippling in the way that drives him absolutely insane. fucking you from behind has always been his favorite.

you try and fail again to get a word out, his hold on you unrelenting like his thrusts. you don't even know what you're trying to say — if you're trying to beg him to slow down, beg for more, beg to cum.

"speak up, doll, can’t hear ya."

you're going to kill him, is what you would have thought if you could form a coherent one. instead, your mind is a jumbled mess, an inward reflection of the fucking state you're in. shorts around your ankles, shirt pulled up just enough for your breasts to spill out, making them bounce whenever toji sheathes himself inside you. the tears that were sitting pretty in your waterline start to fall, forming delicate rivers along your cheeks. everything was just so wet. your sweat-slicked skin, your drooling mouth, your crying eyes, your crying cunt.

and when black begins to creep into your periphery, he loosens his grip, finally allowing a sweet, sweet, rush of air to flood your lungs, bringing a wave of ecstasy with it that's unlike anything else. it makes your legs shake, a pornographic moan ripped from your now open throat. toji knows your body, your limits, better than you do at this point, and it’s almost unfair.

"a-ah, toji! p-please, more— i can't-hah-" the words that tumble from your lips are strung together haphazardly but you're too much of a mess to care or even notice.

"so pretty when you're dumb on my cock.” he’s leaning over you, chest pressed into your back, voice low and husky as he talks in your ear, “you gonna cum?"

toji gives your throat one last squeeze, cutting off the ‘yes’ you were rasping out. his hand moves to grip your jaw, forcing your head to the side so he can get a good look at you, and fuck, if he could get any harder… you look just pitiful. red rimmed eyes, mascara running as you sob out his name, over and over, because it's the only thing left that you know how to say as he keeps abusing your overstimulated cunt.

"fuuuck, love it when you cry f'me, baby doll.”

Chapter Text

you'd woken up from a nap, still sleepy and delirious, with sukuna sitting on the couch next to you, watching tv. he wouldn't look at you. each time you spoke to him he kept his eyes glued to the screen, and you were too confused by his odd behavior to notice the tension in his jaw or the twitching of his lips as he tried to hold in his laughter.

and then the doorbell rang. some delivery man dropping off a package. you'd opened the door to sign for it and he just stared at you, jaw slack, an expression of both amusement and concern. and when you shut the door after, muttering under your breath about how everyone was being really fucking weird that day, sukuna finally broke. he was doubled over in the hall, practically howling, he was cackling so hard.

"you've gotta see your fucking face."

scrambling for a mirror, you finally saw what was so funny. dicks. not a dick, dicks. as in multiple, drawn all over your face by the man boy who claimed he loved you very much, while you slept very peacefully.

several days have gone by since then, and you're not over it. sitting on the edge of the bed, lips pursed and brows furrowed, your eyes narrow as you stare down at the sleeping giant that is your boyfriend. he looks too content, serene even. he doesn't deserve that.

you grip the razor tighter, hoping the firm hold will also strengthen your resolve as you pull back the covers to reveal the rest of his naked body. he always slept naked, and he always slept deeply. you remember the time he slept through an earthquake the year prior. he's ridiculous, honestly.

but enough thinking — it's time for action. carefully, precisely, you start sculpting. manscaping, if you will. with each little shwip, shwip, shwip of the razor, more hair falls away, and the imagined shape starts to become a reality. a few minutes later, you're satisfied, and now you just have to wait.

you're in the kitchen when he wakes up, nursing your first cup of coffee as his booming voice echoes through the apartment.

"what the hell is thiiiis?"

heavy footsteps follow after, as he hunts you down, shortly appearing in the doorway. he's still naked, chest heaving, a cross look on his face.

"you shaved my fucking bush."

you're giggling behind your mug. "and?"

"AND? it's a heart!"

there's tears in your eyes from how hard you're wheezing now. any embarrassment he'd put you though was worth it, because this was priceless.

"you're gonna pay for this, woman."

Chapter Text

gojo satoru hates you.

but it's okay, because you hate gojo satoru.

you hate the way he talks too loud, like he wants everyone to listen and the way he saunters— not walks— because he knows everyone's looking. you hate that whenever you get a good grade on an exam, he's always right behind you, flashing his score at you. but most of all you hate that he's the only one who knows how to fuck you.

every time, you say it's the last time.

you tell him that you're done seeing him, that you're sick of him, and he just gives you the same infuriating smirk like he knows you're lying. you tell him that you only wanted to meet up to say that, to do the right thing— you know, communicate— to let him know that you don't need him anymore because your poor boyfriend is getting better. really! and that makes satoru laugh as his hands find your hips, giving you a harsh shove until your back hits the wall.

"sure, baby," he coos.

and like every other time, the second you feel the weight of his hands on you, the heat of his breath fanning across your neck, the look in his eyes— there's no more pretending.

your hands find their home in his hair, gripping tightly, tugging him down to you. your kisses are always deep, hungry, all lips and tongue and teeth— you devour one another while you can because the second it's over, neither of you knows the next time you'll touch each other.

one of satoru's hands smooths down your side, playing with the hem of your skirt as he slots a knee between your thighs. as soon as you feel the pressure against your clothed sex, you're already grinding down onto him, panting into his mouth as he smiles into yours.

you were wet from the minute your his hands were on you, arousal leaking onto your panties, no doubt leaving a damp spot on his pants now. you're whining, the flimsy fabric rubbing against your clit with each sway of your hips against his knee. hands tightening painfully in his hair, you're getting faster, louder, needier.

a large hand wraps around your throat, pushing your head back and breaking the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips as satoru pulls away. he's sneering down at you, lip curled and eyes narrowed, as he clicks his tongue. his expression is one of disgust, like there isn't a throbbing bulge at the apex of his pants.

"fuckin' desperate," he mutters, fingers tightening, digging into the soft skin of your neck as he cuts off the whimper that was beginning to fall from your lips.

you're still humping his thigh, a sheen of sweat forming on your forehead, a glassy look in your eyes as you gaze longingly up at him. god, you'd needed him.

"enough." he pulls his leg away, a strangled cry coming from you at the loss which earns you a sharp smack! to the side of your ass. "always finding a way to complain," he tuts, disapprovingly.

and then he's got your legs in his arms, ass in his hands, as he fucks you down onto his stiff cock. over, and over, a brutal pace. each thrust feels like it's splitting you open, a pitchy moan ripped from your throat each time he sheaths himself with a wet squelch.

you love the way he fucks you. the way he doesn't ease you into it, shoving his length into you all at once and stretching you out in a deliciously painful way. the burn, the sting, it's addictive, lighting a fire in your core. you love the way he's brutal, always fucking you fast and hard and deep— your back scraping against the wall, his fingernails cutting into your supple flesh, sharp smacks and quick bites that'll leave marks for the next few days. you love the words that cut through your haze like a knife as you gaze up at him through tearful eyes.

"so ungrateful," he scolds. "get a fucking 98 on your test— fuck— complaining about how you- haah- deserve a 99."

"i d-did!" you whine, which gets you another slap to your ass.

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, a few tears slipping from your eyes which you wipe on his shirt.

"got a boyfriend but wan' me t'fuck you," he grits out, pulling you down onto him harder. "say he loves you and you're complaining he's too nice when he fucks you." he's rambling, the words coming out strained, tight in his throat as he glares down at you.

sometimes he wonders if it's worth it— dealing with you. but then you squeeze him, cunt throbbing around his cock, and he hears the pretty little moans that fall from your glossy lips, and he thinks it is.

"a-aah— toru! s'too much—"

another slap. "if only he knew what a greedy slut his girlfriend was," he groans, "maybe we should show him?"

your head shoots up, watery gaze fixed on his as he stares down at you with a cruel grin. "huh?" you mumble.

he looks down at you, fake concern etched into his features as he slows his pace, cock dragging languidly along your gummy walls.

"huh?" he mocks you.

and before you can even think he speeds up again, feral grin spreading across his face as he looks down at you with wild eyes, "poor guy… should send him a video— shit, you f-feel s'good. aah, fuck—"

"n-no, please-" you cry out, momentary fear coursing through your body as you cling tighter to satoru, your cunt clamping down harder around him. you don't think he's serious, but you never know. you wouldn't put it past him. "please, don't!" you wail, half moan and half sob as he ruts into you.

he loves the way you hold on to him, gripping even tighter the meaner he is. acting like he's your lifeline when he's fucking you breathless. he loves the way you protest, crying for him to not show anyone how much you love taking his cock— even when he knows you'd still let him record you if he really wanted to. but he can't even be bothered to think about that anymore with the way your pussy is strangling him now.

warm, sopping cunt wrapped tight around his length, you can feel the way he's pulsing, teetering on the edge of his release. and you're right there with him, cumming hard mere moments later, slick coating his dick as he keeps pistoning in and out of you. a creamy white ring is forming around the base by the time he finally buries himself to the hilt, hips still, cock twitching as hot ropes of cum fill you up.

"fuck, baby— always feels s'good," he pants.

satoru lets you down abruptly, admiring way you yelp, standing on wobbly legs with a mix of your arousal and his seeping down the inside of your thighs. and as exhausting as you are, that's a sight he think he'll never get tired of.

Chapter Text

your neck aches, craned to the side as you're hinged at the hip, ass up, face down in red silk sheets. your hands have a death grip on the fabric as two thick fingers slide between your already wet folds, gathering your slick before sinking inside, slowly, knuckle by knuckle, until your cunt swallows them whole.

sukuna lets a guttural groan out behind you. "always so ready for me. so needy for my cocks aren't you?"

"yes!" you cry out when his fingers drag along your walls, curling when he pushes them back in with a loud squelch. "j-just for you, wan' them both."

a large hand comes down against the flesh of your ass with a hard smack! the weight of the impact sends you jolting forward, but with a hook of his fingers inside you he pulls you back and a whine from your lips .

"that's no way to ask," he chides, the hand that slapped you tenderly caresses the red mark that's forming on your skin, a stark contrast to the stinging sensation.

"'please, ryo…" you mewl, "need t'feel you inside."

"soon. but first…" he trails off, talking more to himself than you.

there's the weight of another hand on the other side of your ass and then ten fingers digging into your skin as he spreads you open, and the feeling of cold air against your tighter hole makes you gasp. sukuna lets his saliva pool in his mouth before he spits between your cheeks, his lengths getting painfully hard as all four eyes watch the glob land directly on its target, following the way it begins to trickle down toward your pussy. the maw on his stomach splits open, tongue lolling out like it has a mind of its own, like it's thirsting for a taste of you.

on his knees behind you, sukuna leans closer, his fingers stilling inside you, just staying there to plug up your leaking cunt while he diverts his attention to the newest object of his desire. his largest tongue darts out further, eagerly, before it licks a long stripe up from his buried hand to your other hole before swirling around the rim.

"o-oh my, fuck-" you grit out, cutting yourself off with a broken sob as the slippery muscle flicks at the entrance then pokes the tip inside. it feels wrong. too wet, too slippery as it keeps twirling, sliding, dipping ever so slightly in and out. he's never used his stomach on you this way.

"feels good?" he asks smugly.

you don't want to admit it. it's embarrassing, the whole lewd scene you're picturing in your head. you, knees spread, both holes on full display for him, his monstrous mouth toying with, slobbering on your asshole hungrily. "n-no, 's weird…" you whine.

"liar." another flick. your cunt throbs. "i can feel you."

you try to say something else the words die on your tongue, replaced with a drawn out moan when sukuna's fingers start to move again. your hips instinctively grind back, down onto them, meeting each thrust. and every time, you feel it, the way his tongue holds stiff, so every roll of your hips has it gliding along your ass.

"f-fuck, ryo, more!"

sukuna laughs at you, deep and gravelly. "so needy now, what happened to," his voice turns pitchy, mocking, "'s weird." but as much as he makes fun of you, his cocks are still twitching, leaking, at the sight of you falling apart on from tongue, your arousal dribbling onto his hand.

he's fucking you with his fingers, his thumb wrapped around your pelvis to catch on your swollen clit whenever he stuffs his digits into your sloppy pussy. the added stimulation combined with the way his tongue is now feverishly lapping at you is too much.

"haah-ah, 'mgonnacum, 'mgonnacum—"

you're a broken record of desperate moans and pleas for your release which is finally ripped from you with three little words.

"cum for me."

Chapter Text

you're perched on the edge of the bed, legs tucked under you. tense.

you don't know why you agreed to this in the first place, you knew you weren't prepared— and you knew what sukuna wanted when he told you to 'just come over.' but he'd meant right after class. tugging you by the hand, he had you stumbling behind him as he hauled you across campus, far from the safety of your lab, and straight to the unknown territory that was his frat house.

"why do you look like that?" sukuna's voice fills the room, snapping you out of your thoughts. he's standing right in front of you. you're not even sure when he'd gotten so close, drowning in your spiraling thoughts— and he's got a look on his face like he's trying to study you, but it's making his head hurt.

"like what?" you mumble out. his question, the way he'd phrased it, the constant air of indifference in his tone— it all did nothing to quell your rising insecurity.

"like you're about to shit your pants or something."

you sit up straighter, ears perking up and eyes widening. "there's a way to tell if that's going to happen?" you rush out, suddenly anxious for another reason. you'd never heard about that before.

"the fuck? no," he exhales, a hand pinching the bridge of his nose, "like you look like you don't want to be here."

"o-oh." you're thrown back in thought. mulling over his words and trying to figure out what to say— should you just tell him? would he be mad at you though? you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

there's a pressure on your knees. sukuna's form leaning over you now, he once again tears you away from your ceaseless mind. his hands slide down your calves, unfurling them from their criss-crossed position, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. he stretches your legs by your ankles before smoothing back up, heavy hands parting your thighs along the way.

you can feel your heart-rate accelerating, a mix of desire and apprehension having you just that much more conflicted. he's the only guy you've hooked up with at this point, and you don't even know him that well, so you rely on your research to guide you through your little… experiments. but this time your studies were disheartening.

sukuna sinks to his knees as he tugs your hips to the edge of the bed, your knees now resting on his shoulders. would he be grossed out?

his fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts. oh god, what if it smells? some people had reported that in their experiences.

fingers dancing along your skin he moves to pull them down—

"w-wait!" you squeak, pedaling back away from him.

he sighs, exasperated. "what's goin' on?"

you're wringing your hands, fidgeting in a way that's making his eye twitch with each distracting movement. "it's just that… well, you see— after our last, uhm, experiment, i was thinking, y'know?" he hums, expression conveying that he knows, of course, you were thinking. "right, so when we'd talked about this, well, when i'd said that i wante—"

"spit it out," he grunts, arms crossing in front of him, a brow raising impatiently.

"i read that guys don't like when girls have hair."

sukuna's head cocks to the side, lip curling and brows furrowing— he's not sure where the hell you might've heard something like that. and then his eyes narrow, red irises flicking across your face as his lips purse, because for once he's the one lost in thought.

"hmm," he hums again, scratching his chin, "i feel like most of my bros hook up with girls that have hair—" the knot in your chest loosens slightly after hearing that, body angling towards him a little more now, "—but i've also seen 'em bed bald girls."

it's your turn to look at him confused. "huh?"

he rolls his eyes, "like i don't think guys care if a girl shaves her head or not."

your hands fly up to your face, head hanging as you let out a loud groan. he can't be serious right now. "that's not what i meant," you mutter, voice muffled by your palms. "i meant i haven't shaved my vagina."

there's a beat of silence. then large fingers curl around yours, prying them away from your heated face as sukuna makes you look at him again. when your eyes cut up to his, he's not amused. "you think i give a fuck about that?"

"i don't know," you sigh, "i just did some research and a lot of men were explaining that they preferred when their dates had shaved."

sukuna rolls his eyes again, thumbs stroking the backs of your hands which are still in his. "well, lots of guys are idiots, you can't rely on 'em for your research," he starts, lips quirking up at the way your legs twitch, parting ever so slightly so he can fit better between them.

this time when the pads of his fingers dip beneath your waistband again, you let them. instead of scrambling away, you lift your hips for him, let him slide the fabric down your legs for you. and next your panties, already damp from the short moment between your conversation and his undressing you.

his gaze is hungry, tongue darting out to lick his lips when he finally sees your cunt again— sitting pretty on display for him— uncut and natural, still glistening, still waiting for him to ruin it.

a guttural groan rumbles in sukuna's chest as he pushes your knees back onto his shoulders, leaning in to lick a long stripe up your slit. you shiver, hands threading through his hair as the softest moan falls from your lips.

he grins, small and stupid against your pussy. "good thing you've got a smart guy like me."

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