Dreams

ryomen sukuna. oh, you knew him. everybody knew him in fact, though you felt you knew him better than anybody else. you were his biggest fan, an obsessive freak hidden behind a glittery mic and a sparkly smile. everyone knew you..but did he know you? that was the only thing that really started to matter in your life, him.

what kind of slacking agency would let the world’s most cherished pop star fall in love with a husk, disaster of a man? he was a cigarette, and you were the poor, poor, addict. cigarettes..he always held them so nicely. the way his lips pursed when he blew out smoke, the way he held them so effortlessly and lazily in his hands. the most mundane things appealed you when it came to him. more so, how you couldn’t figure him out.

sukuna wasn’t misunderstood, it’s just that he simply couldn’t be understood. some interviews, he was rash and gravely—others, he was kind or seductive. confusing his fans and the whole film background in general had become his reputation, his mission.

maybe that’s why he had so many fans. what kind of girl wouldn’t obsess over a badass, ripped actor? such a silly thought, and yet you got yourself foolishly caught up in it all. knowing of his existence was what halted your entire life, your entire career. your agency wasn’t to blame, well, you had only yourself to blame. that and another person.

shoko—your manager.

she really set you up there. the day she showed you a movie starring ryomen sukuna was the day your whole life crumbled and contorted into a core of obsession and yearning. your dreams had completely shifted, it was shameful and worrying how much he influenced what you did.

“are you seriously making me watch a romance film? since when were you into that stuff?” you teased, your arms trapping a pillow against your chest. mandatory movie nights were a system you set up! that way, boring managing talk wouldn’t ruin your friendship with her. it was shoko’s turn to pick a movie, and you weren’t pleased! well, yet.

shoko blew spoke out of her pink lips, like some sort of beautiful humidifier. “maybe it’ll inspire you to write something other than sad, doomed music.” she angled, the tips of her lips quirking up in preparation to wrap around her cigarette. how cunning. “plus, i think there’s an actor you’ll like in there. he’s totally your type.”

now that caught your attention. you raised an eyebrow, easing the grip on your plush pillow to a gentle embrace. “i didn’t know it was my manager’s job to hook me up with some actor.”

shoko huffed out a laugh, accompanied by smoke, of course. “you’re cute. you’ll have to put in the work for this one.” she said, almost informing. she pressed play on the movie, and the previous pit of dread in your stomach had lifted a bit.

not even ten minutes in and you were ruined. this was easily the sexiest guy to ever bless your eyes—was he real? what kind of ritual-love-spell was put into the air while creating this creature? your eyes were blown so wide it made you look like a goldfish, your entire frontal lobe was shattering and rebuilding itself in the most self destructive way. shoko dabbed at the drool trickling off your bottom lip before you even realized it was there.

“hot, right?”

“i’d suck him dry, shoko. dry.”

a startled and delighted gasp left her. “you’re ridiculous! get in line, sweet pea.” she laughed, patting your head. “maybe you should dm him or something?”

“you want me dead, miss manager.” you sighed. trying to snatch the remote from her. “turn this off, i’m jealous of the female actress.”

shoko easily clicked off the movie, unaware of the turmoil she had caused.

but..what about sukuna? did he know you? why, of course he did! his best friend, satoru gojo, could be blamed.

sukuna had been invited to collab with some kind of cigarette company—being that famous for smoking is quite an impressive feat! he was in the dressing room letting gojo assist him with his hair.

assist was a pathetic way to describe gojo, the man was scrolling on his phone and leaving his friend to struggle. stalking girls on instagram was clearly a priority..evidently he didn’t know he was best friends with the biggest stalker on earth. sukuna couldn’t even growl out a complain about gojo’s uselessness before he was interrupted.

“dude, have you seen this chick?” he asked, proceeding to..not show his phone. greed! “she’s a pop star, sexy as hell—i’m telling you!”

sukuna, meanwhile, was putting gel in his hair in a way only he could make look so furious. “show me the damn phone then, dumbass.” he reached behind, snatching it for himself while gojo squawked like a bird.

pulled up on the screen was your instagram, to which sukuna’s features tightened at. you were stunning—more than that. more than anything he’d ever seen. he never really busied himself with girls and recent times, he was more known for that at the beginning of his career. but this was different.

lust, heat, desire, obsession—it all swirled low in his gut like a twisted flame. his feelings were a black hole, and he found himself unable to resist it. how he developed obsession was peculiar. usually, such feelings would take time to develop, at least more than ten seconds. but just from seeing a photo of you, sukuna knew. he knew that he’d have you one way or another, that, he was confident in.

“holy shit.” he breathed, gripping the phone so tight gojo was sure he’d be at the phone store later on his behalf. “a pop star, you said? how the hell do i not know of her?”

gojo looked down, the visible boner in sukuna’s pants made a shit eating grin form on his lovely features. “i mean, she’s not really your type, man.” he shrugged, making no attempt to snatch the phone back. “maybe you should dm her!”

sukuna clicked his tongue, sending your account to himself before handing the phone back. “does your head live in your ass?“ he rubbed his head, ruining his practically manufactured hair. “..i’ll consider.”

“maybe you should consider getting rid of that tent in your pants before shooting a commercial. unless that’s your guest speaker.”

“maybe i should CONSIDER shooting YOU!”

it got quite messy from here. since the day you discovered him, you binge watched every movie he starred in, even ones he had a single scene in. though, those weren’t common. if sukuna was in a movie, he was the whole plot. that was in your favor.

late at night, you found yourself with your hand between your thighs, replaying was scenes from his movies over, and over, and over. your lyric notes would lay discarded elsewhere completely, neglected and unimportant. you’d go until your thighs shook, until your cunt felt numb and achy. you’d imagine it was him that made you so sore, instead of your stalking self.

god, how you wished it was you. how you wished it was his bare chest pressed against yours, how you wished it was him filling up your needy pussy so nicely instead of your cold fingers. the desire to hear how he actually moaned was unbearable. you envied those actors, so much. but when you pretended it was you, it almost numbed it—just enough to let you cum.

was sending him a photo of your wet pussy too far? maybe your refrain on that.

on the other side, whenever sukuna heard a song of yours, all he could wonder was how that pretty voice of yours would sound moaning. were you loud? quiet? high pitched? breathy? he had to know, just had to. he started refusing to do sex roles in fear he’d imagine the girl as you, and totally wreck them. your posts, your interviews, he studied them. did your face on his computer screen count as studying? even when he’d shoot loads of cum on it?

talk shows, interviews. messy. messy. messy. you even found yourself pathetically releasing a single about yearning for somebody. how utterly foolish you had become.

you wanted him to ruin your life. but the truth was, he already did. subconsciously.

but then the letters came, from both sides. you sent them first, anonymously, secret admirer style. surely he’d discard them as another random fangirl trying to get in his pants, but you didn’t mind. you told him how obsessed you were with him, how you needed him so bad the ache became physical and settled between your thighs—ah! new lyric idea!

you told him that you watched every one of his movies, that you were tempted to show up at his house, that you’d build a music career off him. safe to say, you were losing it. and shoko didn’t know a thing, thankfully. you’d be in deep shit.

gojo was going through sukuna’s mail one day, just out of nosy curiosity. he picked a stack of your letters, unopened. he carefully peeled back the paper to reveal messily written love confessions—and maybe crime ones too.

“yo, ryomen.” he waved the paper up, “you’ve got a true fan here, dude. she’s obsessed.” his eyes found the paper again, reading the part about music. “call me crazy but..i think it’s that popstar you’ve been drooling over. she’s talking about making music dedicated to you.”

that got his attention. he whipped his head around so fast the muscles grew taut and achy. “let me see that.” the paper was out of gojo’s grip on seconds, as sukuna’s eyes read over every like.

music. make music about him—no way. “holy shit, you really think it’s her?” god, he was a fucking animal. his pants were already starting to feel uncomfortable. “fuck, god i hope she’s stalking me. that’s the only stalker i want.”

gojo huffed out a laugh, though it was mainly disbelief. “jesus, man. you’re twisted.”

you managed to get through another tour successfully—as in..no visible mishaps apparent to the public!

a letter you had received replayed in your mind for a shameful count of hours. it was a love letter, the idea was that this guy wanted to have sex with you, which wasn’t unusual. the catch was, he talked about making a movie with you. a movie? but what if he just meant porn? something in your soul was telling you that you struck gold anyway, to follow your delusions

the after party. one you’d been looking forward to. drowning your feelings in alcohol had never appeared so enticing. you wanted forget the stress, forget him. forget the way his body looked, forget that sultry stare of his. a few drinks down, and you found yourself in the same spot.

“nice show, sweetheart.” a gravelly voice echoed behind you—a voice you couldn’t mistake for anybody else. your soul tied husband.

you whipped around so fast the fruity drink in your glass spilled over the edges. you were in the presence of sukuna, the man you had been dreaming of, the man who had consumed your life by just existing—and you were utterly frozen. “oh my-holy shit-!” you gaped. “ryomen sukuna?! what are you doing here?”

no, this wasn’t real. did the bartender lace your drink? surely he was just there for the fun of the party..though the tension swarming him like a swarm of wasps made you doubt it. you were getting in your head again.

sukuna couldn’t believe he was standing in front of you—the girl he practically tracked down. that wasn’t the right word, every move was intentional. he’d been watching you for awhile, he documented every tour date, every plausible after party, absolutely any way he could get his hands on you. and there you were, looking even better in person. his facade was careful and constructed, he didn’t let the fact he was reeling show on his face at all.

“i happen to be a fan.” he held his cigarette near his lips, his signature. “y’kickin’ me out?”

“no—god, no!” did you seriously say that out loud? fuck! “i-im so surprised you’re here! i wasn’t expecting this at all. thanks for being a fan..” how awkward.

he snorted, taking a drag of his cigarette. you wished his lips would purse around your clit like that. shameful. “are you a fan of me?”

a fan? you declared him your husband—soulmate, even. “big fan.” you replied.

he smiled, smoke permeating through the air between you like some sort of love spell, a spell neither of you needed. so you did know him..that was good. “big fan, huh? i’m honored, you look gorgeous.”

your clit jumped in your panties at that, this couldn’t be real. the club started to feel unbearably hot, all the heat settling in the one place it shouldn’t. “why thank you!” you smiled sweetly, hiding the way you eyed him up and down like a piece of meat. meat you wanted to tear into. “i could say the same about you. did you dress up for me?”

sukuna seemed appealed—almost worryingly so. “why? would that please you?” his voice was a purr, fuck, how maddening. “maybe i did. i can’t say i didn’t plan on seeing you here.” plot was a better word, but he didn’t say that out loud.

your heart immediately started racing, every thump rattling every nerve and flaming vein in your body. “planning on seeing me? do you want an autograph or something?” you giggled, trying to recover from your inner turmoil.

“nah..” his ringed fingers twitched and ached to find the warmth of your body. “no, more than that.”

a pause.

“y’happen to write letters, sweetheart?” there was a grin plastered on his sexy face, though it looked unhinged and eager. how odd, usually reading the kind of confessions you put in those letters would deeply disturb someone, but not him.

oh, you were so fucked. how did he know? were you that obvious? your body pushed for even a sprout of shame to eat at you, but..there was none. no, it wasn’t shame you felt, it was excitement.

you didn’t care at the time you wrote it, since you never thought you’d encounter him like this, let alone be confronted. that was the difference between you and sukuna. he knew he’d encounter you, knew you’d find out it was him that said all those things—and that’s why he did it.

“yeah..i happen to write letters quite often, actually.” you admitted, the inside of your cheek caught between your teeth.

“is that right?” a grumbly laugh left him, the sheer expanse of his smile made you sure it’d snap. “i do to.”

you’re face visibly contorted. the pure shock and disbelief in your eyes had changed into something that mirrored his own. obsession wasn’t a strong enough word, but the tension that settled there could make your glass shake.

“wait, you—“

“—yeah, baby. i write you too.” somehow, he had gotten close to you. his usual cold eyes absorbed every wave of excitement you could offer. “is it true? you wish you could do a sex scene with me in a movie?”

a thick glob of saliva forced its way down your throat with an audible gulp. you quickly tried to recover, despite the fact your whole body burner with so much thrill you were sure you’d catch fire. “is it true you want to hear how i sound when i moan?”

his grin was all teeth and dark satisfaction, it settled in his gut like poison—poison he had created with his own thick, obsessive thoughts. it was like a curse brewing inside him, ready to destroy everything in his life he’d worked for. he was a king of curses in that way.

“touché.” he laughed behind his glass, the bob of his throat when swallowing was like some sort of sick hypnotic practice. “if i knew it was you stalking me, i would’ve come sooner.”

if you knew it was him sending those letters, you would’ve sent him nudes already! one of those practiced laughs left your body, the kind you’d let yourself give out like candy during something like a talk show.

“well you’re here now. so..now what?” you asked, setting your drink down. your full attention was on him, which was something he clearly liked.

“now what? you’ll give me your number so we can arrange something.” he wasnt asking, this wasn’t a request. it was scary how aware he was of your feelings towards him. you were being perceived with more intensity than your PR team. his ringed hand found your lower back easily, god, it took everything in you to not pounce on him.

you plucked the pen you’d been using to sign things off the open part of your dress, dragging the tip down his chest. he wore an open buttoned shirt, so naturally you wrote your number in the dead center. “call me.” you winked, as if this wasn’t everything you’d been waiting for. that cool minded facade could only be held for so long, so you found yourself speed walking towards the bathroom to scream.

and just like that, you had placed yourself in the palm of ryomen sukuna’s hand—just like you wanted. but things didn’t settle down from there, oh no, it only got messier. it was only a matter of time before the rumors started to spread, social media had a way of pairing celebrities together based on appearances alone. was that why there were edits and fanarts of the two of you? or could everyone feel the same tension you could?

what you weren’t expecting was sukuna to be all on your case like he was your new manager. he texted you all day long, and if you didn’t respond he’d start to call you. one date turned into two, then three, then four. how you didn’t end up in his sheets by then was beyond you, though you were unaware of the need he had to worm his way into your brain first.

this whole situation was basically permission for him to completely invade your life. he’d send you photos from outside your window, commenting on how sexy you looked and how bad he needed you. when you’d find him, he would be there with some sort of gift for you—buying your affection as if your obsession wasn’t enough for him.

you had gotten used to many of his sides within the first week.

“why were you talking to that guy? i saw you eyeing him.”

“you’re so perfect, baby. the most important thing in my life.”

“send me another photo. i’m close.”

“i’ll fucking kill that bastard of a host. tell your manager you can’t do talk shows with guys anymore.”

he knew you were obsessed with him, yet he felt the need to come out on top anyways.

you weren’t much better, no, not at all. you made it a mission to be the number one priority in his life. not talking to him for even a moment filled your soul with dread, he was a drug you couldn’t quit.

“please hurry up, i miss you.”

“kuna i can’t focus please talk to me, i need you.”

“i’ll burn those other letters myself. get rid of them, you don’t need the attention of other girls.”

things he said started to influence everything you did. if he liked pink on you? suddenly, every post you made for a week straight would star a pink outfit. he liked a perfume you wore? the bottle would be empty in days. and god, you didn’t mind.

you ended up at his place again—of course you did. you were sitting on the couch with him, letting his hand lazily trace your thigh. your eyes found his crimson ones, and you seemed to reflect the same feeling.

“i want you to reject that role you were offered.” you said, “i can’t handle you being even fake romantic with another girl.”

like clockwork, he grinned. “is that right? such a jealous girl.” his fingertips bit into your skin, “if that’ll please you, i’ll do it.”

a smile finally crept onto your face. “i love when you try to please me.” it was true, he chased after your approval and affection like a dog. no matter how hard he tried to act like he was in power, he wasn’t in that way.

“i’d do lots to please you, baby.” he murmured, hand snaking further upward. that was also true, you couldn’t name a thing he wouldn’t do. the fire in his eyes had never once dimmed, not a single time.

you raised an eyebrow at that, placing your hand on top of his. “lots, huh? like what? quit acting?” you teased, but the way he didn’t laugh made you confused. surely he wouldn’t go that far, right? did he expect he same?

“i would.” he admitted, something more eager rising in his chest as he studied your face. “or, i’d make you feel like you’re one of the girls in my movies. make you feel so damn good you can’t think of jealousy, only me.”

he didn’t let you respond. “would you quit music to please me?”

that..was the question. you weren’t sure you would. your hesitance brought a cold to his eyes you hadn’t seen before. you ducked your head nervously, a practiced smile tugging at your features with even more practiced grace. “well..i’m not sure. music is my passion.”

that didn’t sit with sukuna. he wanted to be the first thing, he couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied. “i could give you more than that. passion can’t even describe what i could give you.”

you didn’t doubt him, but you played along anyway. “then give it to me, show me how much you should be worth in my life.”

somewhere between the lines, you ended up in his bedroom. he had you pinned against the door, unable to even make it to his bed first before overwhelming you. his lips were pressed urgently against yours, kissing you with so much hunger you almost couldn’t keep up.

his tongue massaged yours like he was trying to own it, map out what he intended to take full control over. he kissed you like he was trying to extract your soul through his lips, just so he could have it all to himself.

all to himself..that’s all he wanted. he’d give anything away to have that. he bit your bottom lip, tongue darting out to taste your metallic blood while sucking in your weak little gasps.

your fists were balled up on his chest, the fabric of his shirt caught between your fingers. his breath was warm, his saliva a sick poison you let him inject you with. drool dripped down your chin, oxygen hardly even entering your burning lungs.

he pulled away to let you breathe, his large hand covering the entire bottom half of your face. your eyes, that’s all he looked at. “god, such pretty eyes. fuckin’ lovesick, huh?” your nod only fueled him, “y’think you can handle me? that confident?”

you kissed his palm, which made him release his hold. “i trust you. and i want you even if there’s a possibility i can’t handle it.” god, it was like you were purposely handing yourself into a curse, one that would ruin the harmony of everything in your life and leave him there, on top where he belonged.

his smirk was sharp, all teeth and morbidity. “you shouldn’t trust me, baby. but the fact you do makes me want to do disgusting things to you. so keep fuckin’ trusting me.”

“i trust you, kuna.”

“i know you do, m’so damn glad y’do.”

he was kissing you again not even a second later, his tongue shoving its way between your lips to make you overwhelmed on purpose. your teeth clanked against his due to the sheer messiness and uncoordinated desperation between you two, though neither of you stuttered once.

you pulled away, attempting to sink to your knees. he quickly grabbed your jaw, forcing you upright. “ah, ah. where’re you going, sweetheart?”

a pathetic noise left you, half whimper, half sob. “please—“ another sob, “please, please i wanna suck your dick. pleaseletmesuckyourdick—!”

sukuna laughed, almost mockingly so. “oh? you wanna suck my cock?” he queried, his hands mapping out your body direly. “m’not done with you yet.”

his hands fisted the fabric of your shirt, before ripping the fabric clean off your body. there was no time to mourn your shirt. his hands found your breasts easily, kneading them in his palms carefully. “i’ve always wanted to touch you right here. right on these sweet nipples.” he breathed, pinching your left nipple between his pointer finger and thumb enough to make you yelp.

he grinned wolfishly at the noise, his other hand continuing to toy with your other tit. “always wondered how fuckin’ loud you’d shriek when i played with them.” he pinched again to prove his point, making you squeal, “jus’ like that..”

“e-ease up, god!” you panted, but not once did you move away. this was everything you wanted, more than that.

in seconds you found yourself looking down at the man you were infatuated with, since he had lowered himself down to catch your tit in his mouth. his tongue teased the hard bud of your nipple, sucking hard enough for you to suck in a hiss of air. his other hand moved down, groping your ass with so much eagerness you nearly stumbled forward.

it wasn’t long before your nipples started to feel sore, among other things. you weakly tugged on his hair, trying to pull him off. “k-kuna..i-i—mghh! can’t..” you whimpered, though your efforts were useless. he was like a blood drunken leech.

eventually he realized you were tugging on him, and pulled away from your raw nipple with a pop! he looked up at you with a lazy smirk, drool dripping down his chin. “sorry, sweet girl, got distracted.” he planted one final kiss between your breasts before standing up. “still wanna give me head?” he asked, as if he didn’t know. he was already palming his bulge.

you nodded almost desperately, your knees hitting the ground not even a moment later. your eyes found his from below, as you kissed on his clothed outer thigh. “can you take your shirt off? please?” you requested, already undoing his belt.

sukuna had his shirt over his head in seconds—anything to please you, right? by the time he looked down, you had already pulled his pants halfway down. he helped you get them off, before holding his heavy cock in his hand right before your airy face.

god, he was big. just like you imagined. it was enough to make your jaw ache from the weight, that much you knew already. enough to stretch you out and plug you up so good.

he slapped the tip against your face, spreading his precum all over your cheek as you whimpered. “you wanna please me, baby? want my cum down your throat?”

“i do, baby. so much.”

“then show me. take my cock like a fuckin’ slut.”

a whine left your dry throat at that, as your tongue darted out and slotted right on his sensitive slit. you kitty licked the tip, wrapping your lips around it just enough to make him groan. his hand easily found your hair, though he didn’t push you. peppered kisses were planted down the heavy length of his cock, your tongue tracing the veins as if to memorize their respective placements

“holy shit..” he breathed, running his fingers through your hair. “good girl..good fuckin’ girl. take me, baby. all of me.”

you looked up at him again, keeping eye contact as you took more of him. your head bobbed back and forth, and god, you made the filthiest slurping sounds. the heavy weight of him strained your jaw, but you couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to.

there you were, your mouth stuffed full with the man of your fantasy’s cock. not once did you break eye contact, not with the way he was looking at you. his hand on your head urged you, making you find a quick pace.

sukuna groaned lowly, before pulling you off carefully. he watched desperation and devastation flood your irises, a string of saliva still connecting you to the head. “i want my autograph.”

your eyebrow visibly arched at that, what the hell was he talking about. you tried to put his cock back in your mouth, but he held you still, expecting you to answer. “y-yeah, okay, please just—kuna i wanna—“

“you’ll give me an autograph.” he said, eyes darting down, then back up to meet yours once again. “right on my dick, baby. sign your name there, it’s yours.”

your heart caught in your chest, drool dripping off your bottom lip inevitably. “mine..” you whispered, the feeling of his grip loosening on your hair was a sign for you to move again. he was right, it was yours. all of him was yours and yours only.

your tongue found the underside of his cock again, drawing lines of spit down every inch of them. the tip of the muscle grew taut, you closed your eyes to remember what your signature looked like.

sukuna tugged your hair once, tutting with that almost unsettling smirk on his face. “ah, ah, eyes on me.” he scolded, watching intently as tears gathered on your waterline.

a whimper left you at that, something that had become routine. your tongue started slowly tracing a path down his cock, signing your name right there, right where it belonged. it wasn’t visible, but he could feel it.

“that’s not right, baby. do it again.”

you did, a sob leaving your stuffed mouth. your tongue was starting to become tired and achy.

“no, try again. i have it memorized too, sweet girl. don’t you want to please me?” his voice was a mocking thing, and it was enough to make tears stream down your face.

eventually you got it right, though your tongue was numb and feeble. you bobbed your head slower, drool slicking your chin and everything else in its wake. he took the initiative to start thrusting into the warm heat of your mouth, that way you didn’t have to do any more work.

“jus’ stay still for me, let me..haah..d-do it.” he panted, groaning at the sight of your teary face. “so pretty crying f’me, you’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

perfect. so badly you just wanted to be perfect for him. hearing that praise did something to you—no it did a lot to you. with his words of praise, and his dick in your throat, you came completely untouched. you whined, eyes rolling back as your lips tightened around his intruding cock. your panties had become a soiled mess sticking to your dripping cunt. humiliating and sticky.

and oh, sukuna loved it. that just about doubled him over. “h-holy shit..mmh..you’re such a fuckin’ slut..” he husked, slamming into your throat hard enough to make you gag around him. the little convulsion of your throat did it for him, and he spilled spurts of cum all down your throat, painting it white with his sticky seed.

the feeling or his warm cum flooding your throat was everything you could’ve hoped for. you’d been stalking him for so long, analyzing him, watching him. wondering how he’d grace your tastebuds when you finally had him.

you pulled off his cock with a pop, a filthy string of cum and saliva departing you. it snapped onto your chin, to which he immediately wiped off with his thumb. his hand lingered on your cheek, evidently, the sight of you on your knees before him was enthralling.

naturally, you were zoned out. the only thing that snapped you out of it was when you felt your back hit the mattress. sukuna loomed over you like some sort of devil, nearly shrouding you.

“still with me?” he asked, patting your thigh. when he received your nod of confirmation, he smiled, pointer and middle finger hooking around the hem of your pants. “need to see what you’ve been hiding from me.”

you lifted your hips up to accommodate him, allowing your shorts to be slid down your shaky legs. if you actually allowed yourself to send that nude awhile back, this would be far less special. however, you didn’t see yourself getting in his sheets ever. life was surprising in that way.

the cold air cooling your slick cunt made you shiver against his hands, nipples hardened once again. but his expression was what really got you. his jaw muscles had grown tense and taut, his pupils were blown so wide he looked drugged. oh, he was ruined before even doing anything. pussy drunk without even indulging.

“fuckin’ hell..” he breathed, running the same two fingers through your sopping pussy as he did to discard your pants. he gathered your juices onto his fingers, the way you twitched against them made him groan. his tongue met them halfway, sucking them clean with so much vigor it made you whimper. his cock twitched the second he tasted you.

“such a pretty pussy, she’s crying f’me too.” he was grinning again, “my fuckin’ pussy, yeah?”

“y-yeah” you replied, writhing as he practically cupped your whole cunt in his hand like he was trying to extract it.

sukuna’s fingers teased your pussy, lubing up his fingers with your own slick. one finger pressed teasingly at your entrance, putting weight on the nerves just to see you squirm. as he slowly eased in one of his digits, you sucked him in greedily.

“tell me,” he started, slowly thrusting his thick finger in and out of your weeping hole. “how many guys have you had sex with?”

the question made you jolt—what was he talking about? “what are you—“ a squeal tore from you when he aggressively slammed back in, this time with two fingers.

“i don’t want to know.” he laughed, thumb finding your puffy clit. “they were practice for me, that’s all. did they matter to you?”

“..not anymore.”

“i like that answer, that’s my good girl.” he purred, curling his fingers deep inside your squelching heat. he pressed right up against your g-spot, sending your back arching towards him with a weak cry.

you watched with half lidded eyes as he reached off somewhere else, slightly upset you didn’t have his full attention. his hand returned, but with a phone.

instinctively your eyes widened—he wanted to film this? a rush of excitement flooded your quivering body, and you smiled at him. “y-you..haah..wanna film this?”

sukuna was delighted by your eagerness, slamming his fingers in hard enough to make you jolt. juices spilled around the base of where his skin met your leaking hole, god, what a sight.

“wanna have your moans for later. you know how hard i fuck my fist just to your face?” god, you didn’t know. but you wanted to. he pressed record, starting to finger you harder. the camera picked up all your sweet sounds, as well as the even sweeter sight or your fucked out face.

“fuck..mmh, god!” you whined, pushing back against his fingers greedily. “y-yeah..you said so in your letters.” you panted, loving the way he looked at you instead of your recorded self.

a strained laugh left his throat at that, his thumb pressing down on your clit and rolling it. “want you to sample these sounds baby, sneak ‘em in a song.” he groaned at the thought, grip on the phone tight, “can you do that for me?”

you nodded without hesitation, breathing getting heavier as he abused the perfect spot inside you with every curl of his fingers. “a-anything..i’ll do anything f’you..”

“yeah? even cum all over my fingers?” he asked, keeping his unfair pace steady. “give it to me, baby.”

“k-kuna!” you squealed, kicking your legs once more uselessly as you came undone. your walls clamped around his fingers, juices gushing out around the base. he fucked you though it until your foot was weakly pushing at his chest for mercy. the video was turned off immediately after your orgasm, he needed both hands on you.

sukuna extracted his fingers, filthy strings of slick following him. his hand immediately went to his cock, pumping it a few times and using your cum as lube. “y’ready for me, baby?” he asked, pressing the head against your overstimulated hole.

despite that, you still nodded, spreading your thighs further for him before wrapping them around his waist. as if to urge him inside you faster. “mmh..please..”

any other time, he’d probably make you specify what you wanted—but he needed to be inside you too bad for that. he slowly pushed in, the tip of his cock was thick and heavy, the stretch stung and made you suck in a hiss of air. “fuckkkk..!” you whined, panting as he filled your tight pussy to the aching brim.

sukuna groaned, pushing inch by inch until he was as deep as he could go. “so damn tight..god, what a perfect pussy.” he breathed, his hands grabbing at your hips. “s’this what you dreamed of? to be stuffed full of my cock?”

you nodded quickly, salty tears streaming down your cheeks. he leaned forward, collecting the droplets on his tongue—he couldn’t waste any of you. his lips stayed on your face, as if to butter you up before he ruined you. “i dreamed of it too. but unlike you, i knew i’d have you one way or another.”

he pulled out slowly, setting a leisure pace so he didn’t hurt you. he knew he was too big to get reckless. his tip dragged along your slick walls deliciously, kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“kuna…” you panted, legs tightening around him. “m’good now..you can—“ you were cut off by an almost punishing thrust, one that sent your tits bouncing and your back arching.

he began to fuck into you like an animal, each ruthless drive of his hips had you sobbing and clawing at his back helplessly. god, it felt so good. the feeling of him ruining you, the sound of skin slapping every time he fucked into you, all of it. it was filthy the way you moaned for him, long strings and chains of pleas poured out of you like a faucet.

“that’s it, baby. get loud for me.” he panted, sweat gulfing down his broad chest. he yanked your hips in tandem with his punishing thrusts, his cock pulsing and twitching whenever a tear fell down your perfect face. your cervix was practically taking a beating, the slurping sounds of you sucking him in only egged him on more.

the bed groaned and creaked below your connected bodies, the headboard banging against the wall in a way your senses didn’t even register. you kept eye contact with him the whole time, you hardly even let yourself blink. “k-kuna..f-feels so good..”

a teethy grin appeared on his face, and he didn’t even try to hide his moans. he was loud and unashamed. “yeah? tell me about it.” he demanded, clearly loving the way your voice cracked for him.

you wracked your brain for a thought, already cock drunk beyond belief. drool dripped down your chin, each brutal thrust forcing air out of your lungs and a moan from your previously cum painted throat. “mm..s-so deep..c-can feel you in my stomach..” you panted, a sharp thrust eliciting an even sharper cry.

sukuna looked almost fascinated, more so at the little bump that jumped on your lower stomach whenever he slammed back inside you. he pressed down on it, making you squeal. “mmh? feel that baby? i belong in this pussy. it was made for me, only me.” he panted, a crazed look in his eye.

it was too much, too overwhelming, too filthy. in a haze of desperation, you wiggled your hips, trying to escape the consuming feeling, to have a moment of mercy. but he didn’t accept that, no, he yanked you back on his cock so harshly you almost screamed. and you loved it.

“don’t run from it. is that why you wrote all those letters, stalked me?” his voice was condescending and oh so convincing, “just to run from my cock when it gets too hard to take?”

you whimpered at the mean turn he’d taken again, as he kept fucking you like he was trying to discard everything in you that wasn’t him. “n-no! no, i’ll take ittt!” your stomach tightened again, and you were sure it wasn’t from him pressing on the bump he was creating. “kuna..k-kuna i’m—c-close again..”

sukuna kept his pace, continuing to slam into you and wrack every bone in your body with every ruthless stroke. your juices were coating his pubic bone, spurting out like small splashes whenever he drove back in. “i know you are, you’re so damn obvious.” he chuckled, groaning at the way your walls grew even tighter somehow. “cum all over my cock, now. god..such a slut, my fuckin’ slut.”

you came again, your pussy convulsing almost wildly around his cock as your breaths came out in ragged, pleased sobs. but he didn’t stop—only for a moment, just to flip you over. you were on your hands and knees, hardly able to hold yourself up. your body felt utterly boneless, it didn’t help that you were so overstimulated it nearly hurt. but the feeling was numb whenever you’d feel his sweaty abs press against your back. you wanted to lick them.

your head hung low, but then your eyes caught something—one of your letters. a weak whimper left you when the recognition washed over your clouded senses—he still read them? in fact, there was a cum stain on the left hand side. “y-you—“

“—read it.” he ordered, cracking a sharp slap across your ass when you hesitated. his hips kept slamming into you, cock ruining your insides beyond belief. “read it out loud, baby. go on.”

you whimpered pathetically, tears clouding your vision. your face was a mess of desperation, tears, and drool—all poured an mixed together in a concoction that was perfectly sukuna’s. you squinted a bit, trying to read your sloppy writing.

“d-dear, sukuna..” you sniffled, “you don’t..know me..but i know you. we are smack! s-soulmates! i dream about..mghh! you e-every night, fuck-fucking myself asleep at the thought of being one of those girls in your movies.”

you felt his cock twitch inside you again, veins stirring the juices in your syrupy pussy. “keep going.” he said, slapping your ass again and listening to you wail. god, he loved how you cried for him.

“i-i want..want you t’ruin my life..i-i’d mmh..l-let you..” you panted, dark blobs starting to appear on the paper from where your tears fell—some hitting the cum stain. “n-no matter what it takes..m’gonna..make you all mine..”

that was enough for him. he pulled your head back by your hair, making you look over your shoulder at him. you sobbed pathetically, weak whimpers wracking you as he kept fucking your sore cunt.

“you still want me to ruin your life, baby? do you? answer me, do you?” there was an unhinged desperation in his voice, like hearing your answer would make or break his entire existence.

“mmhh—mhmm..!”

“use your words. say it, fucking say it. sweetheart. i need you to say it.”

“y-yes! p-please ruin my haah..life! r-ruin everything about me..!” you squealed, unable to even think anymore.

“then that song, the one with all those sweet noises you’re gonna make..” he started, voice so hoarse and grainy it was almost difficult to understand him at all. “it’ll be the last fucking song you release, you hear me? then we’ll go away, somewhere where i can have you all to myself.”

you nodded clumsily at that, god, it was your dream. at that moment, it felt like he was the only thing you needed in your life—above water, above oxygen. his cock pounding you ruthlessly made you feel so alive. “y-yes, yes, kuna!” you sobbed, “i’ll d-do it!”

an unhinged, guttural moan tore from his throat at that, everything he wanted was being given to him so easily. “that’s it, atta girl. maybe i should breed this tight little pussy right now.”

“y-yes! k-kuna please fill me upppp—!” your orgasm hurling towards you. you let out a loud, sinful cry, your release splattering all over his front and the sheets below you.

not even a second later, he buried himself to the hilt, and flooded your pussy with his warm cum. spurts painting your cervix like ownership, white trickling out of your hole where he plugged you up. you pulsed and clamped tightly around his cock, milking him for all he had.

you realized in that moment, even in that hazy mind of yours, you had placed yourself perfectly in the palm of ryomen sukuna’s hand.