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my pussy literally aches when I think of being touched while wearing a skirt, im not even playing
imagining myself sitting on a table, legs spread, and skirt pushed up out of the way as I'm being fucked by thick fingers, relentlessly and deeply until I make a total mess all over myself and the place...
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⋆˚ ✿ ˖ ࣪ toji eating you out while you tell him about your day
toji likes hearing about your day, but he likes hearing it from between your thighs even more. you don’t know how it became a routine — you coming home, dropping your bag, barely getting a “hi” out before he’s already dragging you onto the couch, tugging your shorts down.
“go on,” he mumbles against your inner thigh, breath hot, mouth already wet. “tell me everything.”
you try. you really try.
you start with the stupid coworker who messed up the schedule, and he hums like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever heard, even though his tongue is already sliding up your slit — slow at first, like he wants to savor you, then sharper, hungrier, when he feels your hips jerk. he holds you down with one big hand, thumb rubbing circles low on your stomach, like he’s soothing you through the overstimulation he’s causing.
“mm? what happened next?” he asks, tongue flicking your clit like punctuation.
you breathe out a shaky laugh, fingers threading in his hair because you have to touch him or you’ll lose your mind. “toji, i can’t—”
“yeah you can,” he says, voice muffled, lips wrapping around your clit as he sucks just to hear the way your voice breaks. “keep talkin’. i like your voice when you’re tryin’ to stay polite.”
you try to explain how your boss dumped extra work on you, how you didn’t even get a break — but toji’s tongue is pushing into you, slow and deep fucking you open as his nose nudges your clit. your sentence collapses halfway, turning into a moan you try to swallow.
he chuckles. “that good, huh?”
you nod, breathing fast. he pulls your hips closer, shoulders locked under your thighs so you can’t get away even if you wanted to. his mouth is everywhere, licking, sucking, teasing, devouring — like he’s been starving all damn day and you’re the only thing that can fix it.
“keep tellin’ me,” he murmurs, like he isn’t drenched in you already. “tell me what pissed you off.”
you manage a few words, maybe half a complaint, and he groans like the sound of your voice is what gets him off, like hearing you try to narrate your own day while he ruins you is his favorite fucking hobby.
when your voice finally cracks into something breathless and needy, he just smirks against your skin and says, “there it is. that’s the part i wait for.”
and then he sucks your clit just right — the way that steals your breath, your thoughts, your story, everything — until your hand tightens in his hair and your whole body trembles.
“don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs, licking you slow like he’s winding you up all over again. “you can finish the story after you cum.”
18+ ⸝⸝⸝ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 & nerdy/inexperienced reader making out for the first time (spoiler: he’s a goner) <3
the air is thick with it—wet, greedy kisses that sound like he’s trying to overwhelm you, even as his mouth keeps brushing yours like he’s afraid to let go.
sukuna kisses you while you’re on his lap like a starved man, lips moving with a kind of urgency that blurs the line between respect and pure want.
one hand stays firm at the back of your neck, his palm hot against you your skin. the other swallows your face, cupping your cheek with a gentleness that almost feels wrong on him. though his grip tightens as if he can’t help it—holding you there, trapping you in him.
you’ve kissed him before, sure—shy, hesitant things that barely brushed the surface since the time you’ve began dating.
he was your first boyfriend. your first kiss.
but you’d never done anything like this before.
sukuna won’t ever admit it, but you were too damn cute today—your oversized sweater, glossy lips, baggy jeans, and glasses slipping down your nose. of course he couldn’t hold back any longer.
his tongue slides against yours and you whine into his mouth, finally melting above him. your fingers twist in his shirt, he lets out a low sound against your mouth—something between a groan and a laugh.
your glasses press crookedly against his face, the cool frame digging into his cheek as he kisses you harder. he doesn’t even care. if anything, it only spurs him on. he growls a quiet curse against your lips, chasing you when you try to pull back to fix them. his hand shifts from your neck to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as if to say don’t you dare.
you try to mumble something—maybe an apology—but it’s swallowed by the next kiss.
he tastes like heat, a gatorade, and something dizzying. though that’s probably just a side effect of his lips on yours.
the way his breath shudders when you instinctively lean further into him makes your stomach flip.
it’s messy. it’s clumsy. and it’s so him.
it’s almost funny, how this even started. the two of you had always been a little mismatched—him, loud and infuriating; you, the quiet one in the front of every lecture with the best grades.
he’d tease you endlessly just to see that your flustered reaction, calling you nerd like it was your name.
when sukuna came crashing into your life, he was loud and unapologetic—the kind of guy who ruled every room without trying. but you? you were the quiet, awkward, stuck behind your laptop type. you were someone he shouldn’t have noticed, let alone liked.
but he did. somehow.
he’d lean against your table in the library during study sessions just to get under your skin, tossing out comments that made your face heat up. “you’re really gonna skip dinner to study for a test?” or, “how are you still cute with those eye bags, nerd?”
but every time, you couldn’t help but wonder what a guy like him was doing in a library and talking to a girl like you specifically.
the teasing was constant, but something else hid underneath it—something that made your chest tighten whenever he looked at you a second too long.
it was in moments where your eyes accidentally met his across campus and you immediately glanced away, convinced he hadn’t really been looking at you. or when you caught his gaze while he was laughing with his friends and had to pretend you weren’t wondering why someone like him would notice you at all.
and now, with your glasses tilted and your lips swollen from his kisses, that same look flickers in his eyes. the one that says he doesn’t mean half the things he says because around you? sukuna’s never really been as sharp as he pretends to be.
he leans in again, and before you can think, the kiss deepens. slower this time, but heavier—like he’s sinking into it. your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt once more, and that’s all it takes for him to lose whatever restraint he had left. with a low sound that sends heat rushing to your face, he shifts his weight, guiding you back until your shoulders hit the mattress.
the world tilts. your breath stutters.
his hand braces beside your head, his body hovering just above yours. your dorm room feels too small now, every breath shared.
“relax,” he murmurs, voice rough, but his eyes are soft—softer than you’ve ever seen them. dilated until you can barely see the crimson color of his eyes.
when he kisses you again, it’s needier, like he’s afraid the moment will end too soon. your glasses slide a little down your nose again when you move to sit up on your elbows, and he laughs quietly against your mouth—a sound that makes your breath hitch—brushing them back up with his knuckles before kissing you once more, even harder this time.
your heartbeat is wild, matching the rhythm of his. you’re flustered and overwhelmed but you don’t want him to stop. not when he’s looking at you like that. not when every kiss feels like a secret he’s been holding in for far too long.
your breath catches when his lips leave yours for only a moment—just long enough for him to look at you like he’s still trying to understand how he ended up here, above you, wanting you this much. his thumb skims your cheekbone, slow and distracted, like his body is moving ahead of his thoughts.
“y’know,” he mutters, voice low and almost irritated, “you drive me insane.”
you barely have time to process it before his mouth is on yours for the nth time—now nothing like the seemingly controlled kisses from before.
it’s like he’s losing patience with himself and with you. with the space between your bodies that he keeps trying to erase.
when he pulls back, it’s not far. just enough for his forehead to rest against yours, breaths tangling.
“you don’t even get it, do you?” he murmurs, words barely shaped.
you manage an breathy exhale, answer confused, “g-get what?”
he doesn’t answer.
instead, his gaze drags over your face like he’s memorizing something he refuses to say out loud.
and then without warning his mouth drops to your throat.
the shift is instant. rougher. desperate.
his hand curls at your hip, dragging you closer as his lips find the warm skin beneath your jaw, kissing, then biting. soft, then not soft at all. your breath hitches, fingers gripping his shoulders, and he makes a low noise against your neck like that reaction alone is all the explanation he’s willing to give.
he doesn’t stop there.
his mouth trails lower. it’s almost like he’s trying to chase every shiver he pulls from you. his nose skims your throat, breath hot against your skin.
his grip on your hip tightens, not enough to hurt—just enough to tell you he’s losing whatever control he walked in with.
you gasp when he pulls you fully against him, the closeness stealing your breath even further. that little noise goes straight to his head. his hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, pressing your chest against his, keeping you there like he doesn’t want to let go.
“stay still,” he breathes against your neck. except you can hear it in his voice, the way it cracks a little—he’s the one who can’t stay still.
his lips find a spot just beneath your ear, and when you shudder, he laughs. this time quiet and breathless, not mocking at all. like he can’t believe what you do to him.
he mouths at your pulse again, deeper, lingering like he’s trying to mark the moment into memory.
your fingers slide up into his hair without thinking, and the second you tug—just barely—his breath catches hard against your skin.
the sound that leaves him is almost pained.
he kisses down your neck again like he needs you closer than your body will physically allow.
and then, he’s grinding his hips against yours and that’s when you feel it.
a whimper escapes you and then you realize he doesn’t even know it. the movement was instinctive. heat blooms in your chest and low in your stomach, sudden and sharp, and he just hums against your skin, lost in the closeness between you.
“kuna—” it comes out as a whine as you push him back, eyes wide.
he grunts, reaching instinctively to pull you back in, “what?”
then his eyes catch where you’re looking and a flash of awareness hits him. a faint red color blooms upon his cheeks as he realizes exactly what it is.
he’s hard. he was not a man who got hard just from kissing.
sukuna hides himself at the crook of your neck, “fuck. just—just stop— don’t look! i-ignore it.”
did ryomen sukuna just stutter?
this is my first sukuna fic (that i'm posting at least) and the first thing i've written since disappearing off the face of tumblr!!! i hope i wrote him well enough because this has been in my drafts for months😓
AND before you ask i’ll definitely write more with nerd!reader and sukuna bc i’m a very self indulgent person hehehe
anyone else think that sex with some clothes still on is extremely sexy? like getting eaten out through your underwear? HOT. Getting your tits played with underneath your shirt while getting pounded? HOT. Bent over wearing a dress and him pulling your panties aside as he thrusts his cock in you? HOT HOT HOT.
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i don’t know what evil entity that told men to be quiet during sex. hearing men moan is so hot. his mouth by my ear, gasping—groaning at how good i feel, how he just can’t hold back. please please please be loud. absolutely lose yourself as you move, whisper sweet nothings in my ear, and good fucking grief… let me hear you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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