archived!

there was nothing nice about the way your boyfriend toji fushiguro was fucking you right now. 

he's got you caged underneath him, his much larger body atop yours, his sculpted chest and abs shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat. the veins in his biceps are prominent against the taut skin, every hard ridge of his body encompassing your small frame.

you're laid out on your back, legs spread open and hiked up over his broad shoulders, soft breasts bouncing and blossoming with dark bruises and bite marks. 

and he was big, not just in his muscular, wide frame— his cock was huge. thick and long and slightly curving to the left, finished off with a bulbous tip that turned into the angriest shade of red when he got hard just from thinking about you.

even after he’d get your tight little cunt stretched out and dripping from scissoring his long, thick fingers in and out of your hole, you were never really prepared for his absolute monster of a cock.

“can't ‘ji— please, s’too big toji!”

“tooojiii it's tooo biiig!” he mocks you, voice rough and gravelly, low grunts emanating from his chest between each deep roll of his hips. 

the calloused pads of his fingers press in hard against the fat of your thighs, dimpling and bruising the soft skin. he leans down to lick a wet, filthy stripe up from your collarbone, his tongue moving languidly against your heated skin, all the way up your neck until he meets your ear lobe.

“nah, you can take it, can't ya’ doll?” he rasps past scarred lips that are tugged into a smirk as he leans up and stares down at your fucked out expression.

“be a good girl and answer me when i'm talkin’ to ya’, or did’ya forget how to use that pretty little mouth of yours?” he smacks your face— not hard but just enough to sting— before squeezing your cheeks together, feeling the warmth of your tears meet his fingertips.

“mmph—” you look up at him with glassy eyes, tears of overwhelming pleasure blurring your vision as you feel his cock bulge just below your belly button. 

“s-so— hmph— deep tojiii-” your whimpered words come out as a pitiful whimper, eyes fluttering closed as he releases your cheeks to press down on the outline of his cock in your tummy— your hands scrambling against the sheets as you try to ground yourself from the mind-breaking, overwhelming pleasure.

“s’fuckin’ deep you can feel me all the way in your stomach, can’t ya’?” he whispers as his eyes are locked onto where the two of you connect, watching as his cock pushes against your lower tummy.

“‘ji- i- hmmmph—” you babble incoherently— the only thing you're able to focus on is toji’s thick cock filling you up, your plump lips swollen from rough kisses and glistening with spit as drool slowly starts to trickle down the sides of your face. 

“hah— already fucked dumb on toji’s big cock?” his voice comes out a bit shakier, feeling his cock swell and leak more precum into your sopping hole. he smacks your thigh with his free hand, making your skin ripple like a wave before rubbing soothing circles against the sting. 

at this point his fat cock is absolutely bullying your cervix— thick veins dragging along your silkened walls, a filthy ring of your arousal starting to gather at the base of his cock and drip down onto his heavy balls with each relentless thrust.

“mmph— takin’ my cock so— mmm— fuckin’ well, my sweet pretty princess is turnin’ into such a good slut f’me, yeah?”

“y-yeah- yes toji! please, s’too much— feels like m’gonna explode!” you sob out as the pleasure becomes borderline unbearable, the way his cock curves right up to kiss your cervix, his hand still pressing down on your lower tummy— you actually think you might just piss yourself from the intense pressure on your bladder. 

“mhm— that's it baby, let it out— milk my fuckin’ cock and cum for me.” he rasps as he buries his head into the crook of your neck and bites down hard. 

“t-toji!” you gasp as your cunt clenches, gummy walls clamping down around his dick as your powerful release causes you to see stars. warm syrupy slick gushes out around the base of his cock, all the way down to his heavy balls and down your ass to make a big wet spot on the bed. 

“f-fuuuck— look at that— such a good slut, squirtin’ on my cock— o-oh fuuuck-” 

toji comes hard, thick ropes of cum filling you up completely, making you gasp out and your pussy clamp around him harder. 

“greedy fuckin’ girl— milkin’ me fuckin’ dry.” he pants, his cock continuing to spurt hot ropes of cum until his balls are completely spent and empty. 

you're both left a panting mess, your thighs sticky with your syrupy slick, his cock still buried deep inside of your fluttering hole as his cum begins to leak out in thick rivulets. 

“toji— c’mon, gotta get cleaned up.” you weakly pat his beefy, sweaty bicep, your throat dry and voice hoarse. 

“tch, oh my sweet baby.” he almost lets out a laugh as he raises his head to look at you— hair messy and sprawled onto the pillow, cheeks stained with tears and drool still dripping down your chin. he pets your head, blunt fingernails dragging along your scalp.

“i'm nowhere near done with you yet. you've still got holes for me to loosen up.” he places a kiss to your nose while playfully smacking your used and sensitive pussy. “and you're gonna be a good little slut f’me and take whatever i give you, yeah?”

you yelp and jump as he smacks your pussy again, a loud wet squelch echoing through the room. 

“y-yeah… i'll take it all for you, ‘ji.” 

a/n: this is the toji size kink fic i was working on but it kinda just turned into daddy dom toji i dunno!!! and as always, thank you to my pretty princess sav for reading ♡

rough sketch thing while i work on a bigger piece ;3

for to rise is to relinquish everything: the accrued warmth, the weight of his bicep over your ribs, the lingering, ephemeral scent of jasmine clinging to him. your thoughts drift in an abstract fugue—bathroom, kitchen, coffee, breakfast—until suguru nudges his face into the crook of your neck, huffing a warm exhalation onto your skin. the mattress shifts as he settles, forearm locking (a bit possessively) over your sternum.

thirty seconds pass, and you dare to imagine he has drifted back to sleep. almost the instant the thought fully forms, his knee presses against the hollow behind yours, guiding your legs apart, insinuating a thigh between them. your hips fit together like interlocking pieces of a puzzle.

Can’t stop thinking about soft mornings in the Gojo household; bright sunshine slipping past the blinds of the guest room window, the soft chirping of an alarm that’s been snoozed too many times. 

You should be in your own bed, but Satoru doesn’t like waking you up when he comes home late, opting for the guest bed. You’ve gotten sick of waking up alone in a bed too big for one person, which is why he keeps finding you spread out across the guest bed, waiting for him. 

Maybe he’ll eventually learn he can’t get rid of you that easily. 

Satoru’s fingertips brush your shoulder as he stretches wide, trying to pull you in to him but you’re already sliding out of bed. His legs swing over the side of the mattress just as you round the corner to his side, nearly tackling him back down to into the pillowtop.

Your arms wrap around each other, one of your hands cradling the back of his head to hold his sleep flushed face to your chest, the other draping down his spine, skimming over the soft skin of his back.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbles, lips grazing your skin and pressing gentle kisses to your sternum as he speaks. He’s pulling you down with him and you’re helpless to stop him, his arms locked tight around your middle. He flips you when you land together on the mattress, lying chest to chest, giggling in each other’s faces. 

“Good morning,” you whisper, your lips brushing his. 

“Good morning, gorgeous.” He closes the small distance between you, slotting his lips with yours. 

Your hands tangle in his hair to pull him closer, to get more of his plush lips and familiar taste, trying to drown yourself in all things Satoru. 

Then in the bathroom, after you’ve washed your face and brushed your teeth, you have to tilt Satoru’s head back with one hand, a razor in the other, to catch any stray hairs he missed while shaving. You swear he’s missing them on purpose (he is) with how often you have to come in and clean up the edges. 

A water droplet runs down his throat and over his adam’s apple when he tries to move his head down to look at you. His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer and closer even with your chests already touching.

“Stop moving,” you warn, gripping his jaw and forcing his head back again. Your eyebrows are knitted together in concentration, fighting to keep your tongue from sticking out as you gently run the blades over his slick skin, careful not to cut him. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, eyes trained up on the ceiling, a soft smile on his face.

toji would be sniffing your used panties like they were a drug—groaning as your scent fills his nostrils and makes his fat cock twitch.

wrapping your panties around his thick cock and fucking into them— already staining the soft fabric with precum— all while he bites his lip so hard it draws blood. hell, what's one more scar?

spitting on them as he rubs the lacy fabric up and down his slick, veiny cock and creating a delicious friction, hand moving quick as he imagines it's your tight, wet pussy.

babbling things like, "fuck— look what you do to me doll— wanna fill that pretty pussy s'fuckin' bad."

before finally busting a big fat load of thick cum straight into your pretty lace underwear— imagining he was breeding that sweet pussy of yours.

and now that this pair was ruined, he'd simply throw them in the hamper to go along with his growing collection.

after all— he'd just steal another pair the next time his pervy ass got the chance.

a/n: just wrote this lil thing up while i was bored— another toji fic will be posted later today hehe <3 divider by @uzmacchiato

taglist: @killakuna @sukunathispussy @motel6killer @ryomensrealestrider @stberrypuss @tragicluvr @muliwamm @corrynthia @murasakiyams @chewiebee @carienations @booboobear-12 @sluttforsmuttt @nishinoya-senpaai @littlecandymain @astxrismstar @jelxqa @v33326 @tulipfyy @uhnosav @love-d-luxe

BLOOD MANIPULATION! CHOSO ; the virgin who is always blushing by bloods his cheeks whenever his cock out.

𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 BLOOD MANIPULATION! CHOSO who’s pinned against the shower wall, water cascading over his broad shoulders while you sink to your knees in front of him. steam fogs the glass, but nothing hides the way his blood mark erupts—crimson flooding his cheeks, dripping down his neck in hot rivulets that mix with the water. he’s never had anyone’s mouth this close before, never felt a tongue swirl around the tip of his cock while your hands grip his thighs. his head thumps back against the tile, a broken moan echoing in the small space as his hips jerk forward involuntarily. “i—ah—your mouth is—” he gasps, fingers scrabbling for purchase on your wet shoulders, blood streaking down his chest now from how hard he’s blushing. “it’s too hot, too wet—i’m gonna—please don’t stop—”

𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 BLOOD MANIPULATION! CHOSO who wakes up hard and aching beside you in the middle of the night, his body pressed flush against your back, cock heavy and leaking against your thigh. he tries to stay still, tries not to wake you, but the second you roll over and slide your hand down to wrap around him, his blood surges so violently it spills over the mark and onto his pillow. soft whimpers spill from his lips as you stroke him slow under the sheets, his face buried in your neck while he ruts desperately into your fist. “i dreamed about this,” he confesses in a wrecked whisper, voice trembling as his thighs shake. “dreamed about you touching me—i woke up like this—please, i need to come, need you to make me—”

𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 BLOOD MANIPULATION! CHOSO who’s riding your thigh in the dark living room, clothes still half-on, too desperate to make it to the bedroom. you’ve got him straddling your lap on the couch, his robes rucked up around his waist, cock sliding wet and messy against your skin. his hands clutch your shoulders like he’ll fall apart if he lets go, blood melting down his face in constant streams now, staining his collar dark red. every grind forward drags a shattered moan from his throat, hips rolling faster, chasing friction he’s never known before. “like this?” he pants, voice cracking, eyes glazed and pleading. “am i doing it right—feels so good—your leg is—i’m gonna make a mess, i can’t hold it—”

𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 BLOOD MANIPULATION! CHOSO who comes undone the moment you sink down onto him, tight and wet and overwhelming. his eyes roll back, blood pouring from the mark now, painting his cheeks and throat in vivid red as he cries out your name like a prayer. he’s too big, stretching you perfectly, but he’s never been inside anyone before and the sensation wrecks him instantly—hips stuttering, hands clawing at your back, leaving red marks of his own. “so warm—so tight—i can’t—” he sobs, voice raw, thrusting up uncontrollably as you ride him slow and filthy. every roll of your hips makes more blood seep out, hot and slick against his skin, his face a mess of it as he begs, broken and needy. “more. harder. i’m yours—please, make me feel it all.”

𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 BLOOD MANIPULATION! CHOSO who gasps sharp and broken when you finally get his cock out—thick, flushed, leaking at the tip like he’s been edged for hours just thinking about this. his blood rushes so hot it spills over the mark, streaking down his temples as you wrap your fingers around him and stroke slow. he’s never felt a hand that isn’t his own, never had someone lick a stripe up his length and take him into their mouth. his whole body jolts, thighs shaking, a strangled moan ripping out of him as his head thrashes against the pillow. “t-too much—feels too good—” he chokes, fingers tangling in your hair, not pushing, just holding on for dear life while his blood drips warm onto the sheets. “don’t stop, please don’t stop, i’m—”

𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 BLOOD MANIPULATION! CHOSO who’s fucking you from behind for the first time, hands gripping your hips too tight, blood already streaking down his chest from how overwhelmed he is. every thrust drags a wrecked sound from his throat—he’s never been this rough before, but you push back against him and beg for more. when you reach back and spread yourself wider, telling him to come inside, his control snaps. blood surges so hot it spills over his mark and down his shoulders as he slams in deep and stays there, groaning your name like it hurts. he comes hard, hips grinding helplessly, pumping you full until it drips down your thighs. he pulls out just enough to watch it leak out of you, then pushes back in with a shaky breath, face burning crimson. “look what i did—filled you up—can i do it again? please?”

<synopsis> suguru's omega best friend is in heat. how will he help when he's already mated to satoru?

★ ⋮ Authors Note ⸝⸝ i found a way to cut out most of the smut !! yay !! i actually have no wips now which is crazy so i'll have to get on something else soon. also i feel like the synopsis makes this sound cheat-y. dw its not.

★ ⋮ 𝐶𝑊 ⸝⸝ satosugu x fem!reader, smut, a/b/o, afab reader, alpha!suguru, omega!reader, omega!satoru, clit play, fingering, talk of knotting, mating bites, shy! reader, heats, straight haired reader, petnames (baby, etc), sugu is nervyyyy, my limited knowledge of omegaverse, that should be all !!

hope you enjoy !! ˙˚ ᕱ⑅ᕱ ɞ˚˙

you don't know how you let satoru convince you to eat the aphrodisiac chocolate, and why you decided to eat it before going to your family's christmas party.

maybe because the rational part of you thought there was no way the aphrodisiac chocolates being advertised everywhere would work. it was just a useless product aimed towards consumers. or sweet addicts, like your husband.

but you start to feel hot and dizzy. feeling this hot towards the end of december shouldn’t be normal. and why the fuck are you suddenly so wet? do those chocolates actually work?

satoru observes you from the other side of the living room, hiding a smirk behind his glass when he knows that the effects are starting to kick in. the way you look flushed and dazed. he has to hold in a small chuckle.

he disguises his smirk with an affectionate smile as he approaches you in the act of a concerned husband.

“oh, looks my wife is feeling unwell,” he croons with a honeyed tone, touching your forehead with the back of his hand, all while giving you a mischievous smirk when no one can see. “do you need me to take you home, sweetheart?”

it was torture.

satoru had made enemies. lots of them. for as sharp as his fangs were, so did they tear into the hearts of many.

not your heart. never your heart. where teeth tore for many— they caressed you. a tease, a jest, but never a threat. not you. oh god, not you.

and he knew that.

another vampire with a bone to pick with the blue eyed freak who's been tarnishing his name since he awoke as a fledgling. a name that came with thunder, but satoru brushed off as not even a gust of wind.

the vampire king. terrifying and tyrannical: ryomen sukuna.

it didn't matter before. satoru evaded him with ease. swift as a bat and tittering like one too. but it was different this time.

now he had you.

he wasn't sure how it happened. what went wrong. one moment he returned to your humble home after gorging on woodland creatures for the night— the next, he was out cold. and when he awoke, you were right beside him.

chained. limp.

it didn't take a genius to realise you were both in the king's catacombs.

at first satoru laughed in sukuna's face like he did before. called him names. sneered at him. but sukuna stared. not a sadistic smile nor a seething scowl.

he crouched down to the cell. leveling himself with satoru who sat on his knees. chained and weakened by rose essence infused in his cuffs.

and he whispered.

“let's see how long it takes,” sukuna's beady, red eyes flitted over to you. as if you were his dagger. his beautiful torture device.

“until you're gorging on your wife from starvation.”

and then he left. taking with him the last light other than the dim candles flickering in the endless, cobblestone catacombs.

for days.

weeks.

satoru always knew you were poison. the sweetest poison he'd tasted on his tongue and knew from the moment that his eyes rolled back when he first feasted on you— that he was doomed. doomed. doomed.

because he never wanted to feast on your heart. he only wanted to hold it. caress it.

but with hunger pulsing on his fangs. with his throat achingly dry. his blue eyes bloodshot from the sick fantasies tempting him.

all he wanted to do was tear right into it.

he couldn't.

he wouldn't.

he promised you. promised you he would never lay another fang on you. especially not now. when all the work he'd put into freeing himself of human blood for your sake now dangled in the hands of a cruel king. not when you sat just in reach. weak, probably starving even more than him.

still, ever as selfless, ever as kind, you offered him.

“satoru,” you whispered, hoarse. the chains crinkled as you extended your arm to him.

he jerked away, eyes fixed on the floor.

“drink, please.”

“I can't.”

“you'll die if you don't.”

“you'll die if I do.”

your breath hitched. his voice dropped to something impossibly deep. impossibly dark. something only beasts could fathom.

he heard your heart stutter. he always did. shutting his flickering eyes and squeezing his fists so tight he might have snapped his own fingers— he rasped.

“I won't stop this time.”

pure. unbridled honesty.

“I won't. . . I won't— stop this time. I'll kill you.”

raw. and true. and terrifying.

you watched his slow descent into madness as the days crawled on and your fate crept closer.

he'd told you to strain as far as the chains would take you. away from him. as far as you could. but it wasn't much.

he permanently coiled on his side. bit onto a chain. into stone. tried to break his very fangs because they yearned. they cried. they screamed to tear into you.

he tried to drink from himself.

it was messy, desperate, like an addict trying to substitute a hit. he latched onto his wrist and gulped until it turned blue. until his eyes went glassy. till he limped and choked and vomited up his own blood.

but he wouldn't bite you.

he couldn't.

he wouldn't.

he shouldn't.

but god. by god. he wanted to.

hunger clawed at his stomach. tugged on his ribs. split it lungs. raked up his throat. scratching, scratching, scratching at his tongue. he needed it. needed you. just a taste.

just. one taste.

you knew your fate was sealed when you stirred from a restless sleep. eyes glossy, breath slowed, but the hairs standing on your arms.

he was staring.

wide eyed. frozen face.

blood eyes. not blue. blood.

your mouth ran dry.

“s-. . . satoru,” you whispered his name.

as if it could save you.

as if he was still him.

hot, throbbing agony blurred your vision. cramped your muscles. your scream tore through your bobbing throat as fangs that vowed to never touch you again now tore into your flesh.

satoru was on top of you like a plague. like the weight of your cruel fate. strong arms that once cradled you now locked you against him. like prey in his clutches. like food. you were nothing more than the doe he feasted on in the woods.

at first you thrashed. you squirmed. sobbed. chained hands shooting to his shoulders as you babbled his name. his jaw latched tighter on your neck. spewing blood from the bite.

then another bite.

and another.

and another.

another.

your screams turned shudders. your cries became cradles. as the world began to spin, your hands ached for him amidst the carnage. so you ran your fingers into his hair and held him.

mangled, agonised, but still his wife. still his.

he sobbed.

aching. raw.

he sobbed into you. a mouth full of blood. throat ferally gulping. he sobbed. and shook. and feasted on your very soul as you slipped through his fingers.

“I'm sorry—” he wailed into your flesh. hands shaky. sticky with your essence.

you could barely see.

barely feel.

but you felt his hands. felt his fangs. felt the slow pull of death that were his arms.

with your last strength, you hooked your arms around his neck. whispered.

“ 's okay. . .”

you drawled.

“okay. . . 's okay. . . love. . . my love— I love. . . love you. . .”

and he broke.

digging his claws into your flesh. savouring your warmth. hoisting you closer. muffled and messy.

“I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love— I love you— I-I'm sorry. sorry. sorry.”

he sobbed.

but never stopped.

not until you went limp.

not until he died a second death.

laid on your unmoving body. trying to trap the last remnants of your warmth.

soaked in your blood. in his sin.