❤︎⁠ Apple ❤︎

jin itadori gifts his asshole twin brother a pocket pussy thinking it'll help with his anger issues. sukuna finds it fucking dumb yet on one desperate night when he's got no fling to call since he pissed them all off and he's at his brother's house, he ends up putting the thing to use.

it's ridiculous really, his tatted face heating in embarrassment when he licks at the pearly little clit of the plush pussy that's tarty sweet and warm against his tongue. toy or not, he can't fucking help that he's a munch, dipping his hot, wet muscle into the fluttering hole, slathering it in his saliva as he groans at the slick oozing onto his awaiting tastebuds. when it swells and clamps down on his swirling tongue, he tips his head back, adam's apple bobbing as his tongue is coated with the dripping cum.

now that his thirst is temporarily satiated, he shucks off his jeans, cock smacking against his abdomen that flinches and bunches as the thick, dark-veined shaft lolls against it heavily. he pumps it in his fist a few times then slaps his weeping tip against the clit, smirking when it jumps. then he eases it inside the sopping cunt, jaw slack and brows knit as he watches the hole stretch wide around his girth, swallowing him slow and snug.

he can hardly hold himself back from working the squelching, drooling pussy up and down his cock, slobbering the pulsing length of it in tangy, honeyed juices that foam around his base in a creamy ring as lazy grunts and slurring groans spill from his mouth and into the quiet guest room.

meanwhile, back at the ranch aka his brother's bedroom, his wife who absolutely hates sukuna because he's been nothing but trouble and stressing out your husband for as long as you've known is gasping and moaning high-pitched, fucked-out sounds as a thick cock—that definitely doesn't belong to your husband who can't fuck you since your pussy is already filled—pounds into you relentlessly.

“ah-ahh-hah, fuck, fuck, fuck, it's too much,” you whimper, sweat beading on your forehead, expression pained from the sheer overload of pleasure wracking through your system. legs kicking out, your writhe and squirming to get away from whoever is fucking you but you just can't—

jin is frazzled, glasses askew as he runs his hands through his touseled, coral tufts that are already in disarray as he tries to figure out how the fuck this is happening. it makes no sense. the pocket pussy linked to yours is tucked away in his nightstand, unused. he's saving it for his business trip in a few weeks so how—

“oh my god, it's so big, i can't, i can't,” you cry out, tears glittering as they run down your cheeks, sobs ripping from your throat as you fall back onto the bedding. “jin, do something, please.”

a strangled noise leaves your distressed husband. “i'm sorry baby, i don't know how this could be possible. maybe they mixed it up at the shop and made it a portal pussy or something.”

you hardly hear him, feeling the cock dragging within you throb and kick, your eyes knocking into the back of your skull. “shitttttt, he's gonna come inside. he's coming, he's—angghhh!”

the man you married watches in horror as your pussy spasms and convulses, you coming with the stranger before thick, creamy cum drizzled out of your abused cunt in syrupy streams as you pant and sigh, bones melting.

a loud, belly-deep groan sounds from the other end of the house and your husband stills, realisation dawning him like a bucket of ice water dousing him on a below zero day.

shit, shit, shit! that's right—he gave the tatted, dickhead version of him a pocket pussy as a gag gift. he was sure the man would scoff and chuck it in the trash but not only did he just use it—jin accidentally swapped his own with his twin!

his wife would fucking murder him if she found out.

(though this may work in his favor because you both have been trying to have a baby only to be told that jin is infertile by a few doctors and since sukuna is basically him, maybe he can knock you up. your husband won't mind, he wants a baby with you bad—)

as your husband slowly descends into a spiral of madness, you're seeing stars, boneless and blissful as you stare at the ceiling after what might have been the best sex of your life.

don't get you wrong, sex with your husband is good, really good. but he's so gentle, aggravatingly gentle. sweet and slow, dragging out the act as if there's no destination in mind which would be satiating if you weren't a lustful vixen who enjoyed being manhandled and fucked hard. sometimes he doesn't even make you cum, your cunt squeezes as if you did orgasm but it's as anticlimactic as an interrupted sneeze or cut-off yawn.

so you shamefully hope that you never find out who actually has the pocket pussy and that they fuck you like that more often.

as for sukuna, he's found his new obsession, staring at the pocket pussy in his hand with starry, droopy eyes and a dopey, sleazy grin on his face.

he's finally got you right next to him, the ac on blast since he runs hot quickly, especially in the presence of his crush who's snuggled up against his bulging bicep because you're cold. and maybe, hopefully, you like him too.

the pink-haired man is the epitome of chivalry, eyes never straying down to the plump swells of your tits pushed up by your bra, sitting pretty in the henley you're wearing. your hair is down, neat and scented with something citrusy that melts on his tongue like an ice lolly and meshes with your mouthwatering perfume in a dizzying cocktail.

“relax,” you chuckle, unaffected by what you just stumbled upon, eyes bright. “i shouldn't have clicked on the browser without asking first. that was rude of me,” you tell him honestly.

besides, you're young adults, there's nothing to be ashamed of. you're a sexual creature yourself so you're not going to run for the hills just because he's got some porn on his computer.

“are you sure?” he asks, cringing at his own wobbly voice. it does not match the tattoos crawling up his bulky body. “the last thing i want is to make you uncomfortable or think i invited you over to make out under the pretext of watching a movie.”

that has your eyes bowing, bottom lip pushing out slightly in what looks to be disappointment that has his heart lodging in his throat. shit, did you want to make out with him? is he fucking this up? end him now.

“am i not your type or something?” you question, peering up at him with those big, beautiful eyes that tease him in his sleep.

eyes widening, his arms flail, nearly smacking you—but you fortunately dodge—as he shakes them frantically, trying to salvage this not-so-date. “n-no, i just—i didn't want to come on strong—”

laughter cracks through his panic, your giggles fluttering in the air as you cover your mouth, gaze sparkling with mirth. god, you're so pretty like this, bathed in the silver glow of the moonlight peeking through his curtains.

“i'm messing with you, ryomen,” you chuckle, his name pouring from your mouth like the sweetest honey, so fond and syrupy. “you're so cute when you ramble.”

“oh,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears as pink as his unruly tufts of hair.

“we don't have to kiss,” you reassure him, nudging him with your elbow playfully.

scratching the back of his neck, he gives a weak chuckle, lips tingling in anticipation at the thought of his mouth on yours, smooth and sticky with your cherry lip gloss.

is it flavoured or just scented? would it stain his lips after, letting anyone who sees him know that you kissed him?

“okay,” he says with a nod though there's a sliver of disappointment in his tone.

humming, you press against his arm, leaning most of your weight on him, your stomach flipping like a pancake when he barely budges.

“if you want to kiss my other pair of lips though~”

sukuna almost gets whiplash with how fast his head snaps to the side, scarlet eyes bulging once more as he gapes like a fish, jaw falling through the floorboards, his stomach dropping to the ground floor of his apartment complex.

“w-what?”

“kidding!”

“haha, yeah…”

“fuck, you're adorable,” you giggle again, the tinkling sound tapering off into a moan as your eyes flicker to his lips that he's nibbling on, so soft and inviting. his breath is sweet and fruity from the spritzer he drank just now.

you close the distance and slot yours lips over his.

a shocked gasp kicks out of his chest, his hands hovering at your waist and his lips as hard as stone against your mouth. worried you read the room wrong, you go to pull back.

with a gravelly groan, his eyes slide shut, a large hand cupping the back of your head, carding through your strands and drawing you back to him in a hot open-mouthed kiss.

lazy, wet and messy, your lips move over his, hands roaming over his arms, squeezing at his flexing muscles, grinning into his mouth, teeth clicking against his when his belly shudders against yours.

sukuna's head is spinning, he can't believe this is happening, that you're on his lap, soft and pliant and making out with him and it's not a dream he'll be forced to wake up from.

greedily, his tongue slithers into your mouth, sucking on yours sloppily and licking every spot he can reach, moaning at your buttery taste as you gasp cutely against his lips.

tingles tickle his groin, his cock stirring as arousal coils tight in his belly. horny and desperate, his big palms rest on your hips, fingers hooking into the loops of your shorts as he ruts up against you, a hitch pitched squeak coming from you as you feel something thick and warm rubbing between your thighs.

“m’ sorry, baby. i'm so sorry, i can't help it. you're just so soft n’ so fuckin’ pretty,” he whimpers into your mouth, lips pulling your bottom one into his mouth and suckling on it clumsily, teeth sinking into it until you're whining and rocking down on his fattening bulge.

“gosh, i could just eat you up,” you grumble, fingers curling into his coral strands and tugging, making his skin crawl pleasantly.

the feeling is very much mutual. sukuna thinks he might die if he doesn't get your tits in his mouth right this instant.

fumbling with the hem of your top, he crumples it and lifts, blood whooshing in his ears, heartbeat in his cock as your plush bare skin is revealed—

but he pauses, gaze dropping down, hazy and blurry as his eyes narrow in confusion, choppy breaths slowing.

there, low on your hip and disappearing into the waistband of your shorts, is a tattoo.

a very familiar tattoo.

“is that—” his fingers dart out to trace the ink etched into your flesh but you abruptly pull your top down, the desirous heat in your eyes clearing.

“ah, yeah. kind of embarrassing,” your laugh is forced and awkward as you hook a manicured finger into the neckline of your top. “here, i'll unbutton this, it'll be easier—”

thick brows lower in suspicion as he tentatively picks up your top again, fisting the fabric tightly so you can't yank it down.

“sukuna,” you call out helplessly, wanting him to stop looking at the incriminating ink on your midriff. “kiss me—”

“it's you, isn't it?” he muses more to himself than you as realisation dawns him, crimson eyes lighting up in piercing recognition as they drag back up to your guilty ones.

swallowing hard, you say nothing. you can't deny it now.

huffing out a disbelieving breath, he slumps against the backrest of the couch with a faint smile, brows high as he shakes his head, wetting his lips. his fluffy, touseled hair bounces.

“no wonder you weren't upset about the video. you're the girl that's in it. i'd recognize that tattoo anywhere—”

“so you watch those often?” you cock a knowing brow because how else would he instantly know it's you from some ink?

face heating, he frowns. “don't change the subject.”

shoulders slouching in defeat, you run a hand through your hair, pushing it back into a luscious, voluminous slick back.

“yeah, it's me.”

here it comes, the inevitable disgust that men develop when they find out that you make adult content. as if they don't fuck their fists to it every night, pupils blown and reflecting your videos playing on their screens.

making it easier for him, you go to climb off his lap only for his hands to grip you firmly, keeping you in place.

confused, you glance up, breath hitching at the sight of him. pinched brows, clenched jaw and his inky pupils eating up his carmine irises until they're just thin rings of red.

“will you let me fuck you in the next one?”

neat little knots twist in your stomach, forming a net to capture the butterflies that start to swarm there, fluttering around frantically.

“uh, if you want to, yeah,” you agree with a wavering smile, blinking as you're still dumbfounded by the unexpected yet welcomed response.

his severe expression breaks then, scowl shattering like a broken plate, a grin slicing across his cheeks, canines glinting. “god, you're fucking perfect.”

all this time, sukuna had been drawn to that page because the anonymous woman had a similar body and voice to yours. he'd watch her videos and imagine you so finding out that you're her is fucking amazing.

massive arms engulf you in a bone-crushing bear hug that punches the air out of your lungs, a little “oof!” puffing out of you followed by an incredulous laugh.

“would it be weird if i asked to be your boyfriend now?”

“no.”

“yes!” he fist pumps the air.

tags: @yailuxe @liahcharms @getopilleds @cttelina @mrswhitethornbelikov @shazzer29 @dadonprimma @vigumii @petalsmoons @sunabff @luoodle @wwasabiiiii @bruleecream @princesspeach0-0 @vm4879bb-blog @zenaskull @icebearcucumber @beaniesayshi @iluvgetosuguru @yoonsucks @sukubusss @6x-x9 @booboobear-12

the inspo:

"Yeah." You smiled. He gently took Blair into his arms as you got up and all walked to the Christmas tree. He handed the star to Blair and held her up. You watched with a wide smile as your daughter struggled to put the star on the tree. Jungkook noticed as well so he guided her hand to properly put it on the tree before pulling her hand away in a gentle manner.

"Yay!" You enthusiastically say to Blair, making her smile at your excitement. Jungkook smiled as he brought Blair down, holding her normally.

"You want to put her in the swing so we can decorate?" Jungkook asked and you nodded.

"Okay." You smile as you take her and bring her over to the swing, softly putting her in it as you buckle her up and Jungkook watches you with a smile, his heart warming at the sight.

You walked back over, bringing a box of ornaments over with you as you put them down. You then started to go through the ornaments, deciding which ones you should put up first.

"Let's just put the balls up first, then we can do the fun ones." You say, glancing up at him.

"Sure, baby." Jungkook agreed as he watched you grab two balls and hand them to him before grabbing two for yourself.

The two of you started decorating the tree, though you definitely seemed to be more into it, besides the glances you'd give to your baby every once in a while who seemed to be drifting off.

You ended up being the one to put up the last ornament as Jungkook finished putting the stockings up. He came up behind you and kissed your neck. You shivered, making him chuckle against you, as you turned to face him.

"You having fun?" Jungkook asked.

"Yeah." You nodded. "So much fun." You truthfully say.

"Good." Jungkook smiled. "I already know this Christmas is going to be the best because I have both my favorite girls in the world." He sweetly said before leaning down and kissing you lovingly.

Morning in Yoongi’s apartment is never quiet. Not because of alarms. Not because of schedules.

But because Tang has decided that 7:03 a.m. is a crime to remain asleep.

“Meow.”

You groan, burying your face deeper into Yoongi’s chest. He smells like sleep and coffee dreams. His arm tightens around you instinctively, protective even in unconsciousness.

“Meow,” Tang repeats. Louder. Judgmental.

Yoongi exhales. “Tang,” he mutters without opening his eyes, “if this is about food, you ate ten minutes ago.”

Tang hops onto the bed anyway—because cats do not believe in logic or personal space. A soft thump. Then—

—a paw directly on Yoongi’s cheek.

You crack one eye open. “Did your son just slap you?”

Tang sits back on his haunches, tail flicking like he pays rent here. “I did,” his expression says. “And I’d do it again.”

Yoongi groans. “I adopted a demon.”

Tang meows back. Very offended. Very loud. Like he’s filing a complaint with HR.

You laugh—soft, sleepy, warm—and that’s it. That’s the moment Yoongi finally opens his eyes. Not because of Tang. Because of you.

He looks at you like mornings were invented just so he could wake up next to you.

“Morning,” you whisper.

He presses a kiss into your hair. “Morning, sugar.”

Tang immediately wedges himself between your faces.

Because obviously.

Breakfast is chaos.

Yoongi cooks quietly, focused, sleeves rolled up. You sit on the counter pretending you’re not stealing glances. Tang sits on the floor pretending he’s starving to death despite having eaten again.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Yoongi says, cracking eggs. “You’ve been fed.”

Tang replies with a dramatic meow that translates to: You don’t understand my suffering.

You crouch down and whisper, “He’s emotionally hungry.”

Yoongi snorts. “He’s spoiled.”

Tang flicks his tail and turns his back on both of you.

Classic cat behavior: ✨ asks for attention → receives attention → gets offended ✨

When breakfast’s ready, Tang suddenly wants your chair. Not Yoongi’s. Yours. Specifically.

You stand up for one second and—

—Tang steals the seat.

Yoongi raises a brow. “You gonna fight him or…?”

You sigh. “He’s black. He has seniority.”

Tang slow-blinks at you.

Victory.

Afternoon is soft.

Sunlight spills through the windows. You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, head on Yoongi’s shoulder. His hand absentmindedly traces lazy shapes on your arm.

Tang is on his chest. Not purring. Just existing menacingly.

“He’s judging us,” you whisper.

Yoongi hums. “He always does.”

Tang suddenly meows. Long. Conversational.

“Oh?” Yoongi responds, serious. “You don’t like the drama in episode three?”

Tang flicks his ears.

You stare. “Why are you having a full discussion with the cat?”

Yoongi shrugs. “He’s talkative.”

Tang meows again.

“…He says you’re pretty,” Yoongi adds casually.

You laugh. “Liar.”

Tang meows louder.

Yoongi smirks. “Okay, he says you’re pretty and you give better cuddles than me.”

You gasp. “Traitor.”

Tang closes his eyes smugly.

Evening is sugar-sweet.

You’re brushing your teeth. Yoongi’s behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, chin on your shoulder. Tang sits on the sink watching like a chaperone.

“You ever think,” you mumble, toothpaste foam everywhere, “that he thinks we’re weird?”

Yoongi kisses your temple. “He definitely does.”

Tang meows sharply.

Yoongi nods. “Yeah, yeah. We’re embarrassing.”

Tang hops down and leaves the bathroom.

You blink. “Did we just get dismissed?”

Yoongi laughs softly. “We failed the vibe check.”

Night is quiet.

You’re in bed again, lights off. Yoongi pulls you close, forehead resting against yours. Tang curls up at your feet—protective, warm, present.

“Good day,” you whisper.

Yoongi kisses your lips, slow and gentle. “Best one.”

Tang lets out a small meow. Like approval.

You smile into Yoongi’s chest, surrounded by love, warmth, and one very opinionated black cat.

A day filled with sugar. And honestly?

Still not sweet enough. 🐈‍⬛🍯💔✨

“Then…?” you find yourself asking, your voice softer now, uncertain. He huffs lightly.

“I need… to feel you… every part of you,” he whispers, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. “Can I?” he asks, tilting his head just a little.

To say you were surprised would be an understatement.

He had moments like these — times when he craved your closeness, body to body, heartbeat to heartbeat, breath mingling, eyes locked onto each other.

But it always caught you off guard.

Like now.

“Yes,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering closed, a nervous warmth settling in your chest.

You were usually the one to initiate. Every time Aang did it, it affected you far more than you expected.

And one thing about him? He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He doesn’t wait.

His hands find your waist, firm and grounding, fingers pressing through the fabric of your night robe as he pulls you closer. His head dips, lips brushing yours before closing the gap completely.

His kisses are usually slow, deep, full of quiet passion — but this time something shifts.

This one is rushed, heated. His tongue slips into your mouth without hesitation, searching, tasting, a soft sound leaving him at the contact. Aang had grown into a confident man, but sometimes you forgot just how overwhelming he could be when that confidence turned into hunger.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs between kisses, breath uneven, barely giving you time to respond.

“We’ve… seen each other— mhm— this morning,” you manage before he captures your lips again, like it wasn’t enough.

“Too long ago,” he breathes out, his hands sliding to your hips before lifting you off the floor with ease.

You let out a small yelp, arms immediately wrapping around his neck to steady yourself, as you let him take control.

He kisses you again as he walks, guiding you back towards your shared bed. He lowers you onto the mattress, hands already moving, tugging at your robe, loosening it, pushing it open to reveal the layers beneath.

Your hands move just as quickly, reaching for his own robes, urging him to take them off, need building inside you with every passing second.

He helps you, discarding his top robe and trousers carelessly onto the floor, then returns his attention to you, removing the remaining clothing with the same urgency.

Once you’re bare beneath him, he pauses.

He shifts back slightly, sitting up, looming over your form as his grey eyes slowly take you in — your shoulders, the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, his gaze trailing lower before stopping.

“I want to try something,” he says, his voice quieter now, expression more serious.

You lick your lips as you take him in, pupils blown wide as you ogle at the man above you. He’s taller than you, every part of him defined — broad shoulders, strong arms, sculpted chest and abs and a v-line defined with prominent veins leading down to his half-hardened member.

“What are you thinking?” you ask softly, brows knitting as he leans down to steal a quick kiss.

Despite your question, he remains quiet, one hand slipping down, fingers brushing over your cunt, like he was testing, before easing two of his fingers between your folds.

Your back arches instinctively, breath catching, chest rising sharply at the sensation.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he reassures you, voice low as his thumb circles your clit gently, his fingers moving in slowly, carefully. His other hand comes up, cupping one of your breasts, squeezing softly, then firmer, drawing a gasp from your lips.

“Have to… stretch you a bit,” he mutters, his movements steady, feeling the way your body responds to him.

“A bit?” you manage to let out a small, breathless chuckle.

He scoffs lightly, continuing, the pace slow, almost teasing, making you squirm beneath him, your hips shifting forward, chasing more.

“It’s anything but— mhm!” you gasp as he finds that sensitive spot.

“Sorry,” he mutters, though he doesn’t slow much. There’s impatience in him now, a barely restrained need.

“Aang—” you breathe, your hand coming to his wrist, stilling him for a moment. “I need more,” you add, and you feel the way he tenses.

“Okay—” he exhales, pulling his hand away. His gaze doesn’t leave yours as he brings his fingers to his lips, tasting, watching you the entire time.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, a warmth settling low in your stomach.

He exhales softly, then shifts forward again, adjusting his cock before lowering his body over yours. His skin is warm, slightly damp, pressing against you, surrounding you.

Your hands slide along his back, nails grazing over his skin, tracing the lines of his tattoos as he aligns himself to your entrance.

Your lips part in search of air when you feel the tip of his cock go past your entrance. He slowly pushes, your walls stretching around his length. You let out a long moan at the feeling, tears forming in your eyes, nails digging into his back, leaving crescent moons behind.

Aang lets out a long moan at the feeling of your warmth, at how you are sucking him in as he fills you to the brim. His palms ball into fists at each side of your head, caging you under him.

“Move… please,” you whisper once he’s settled inside, your hips shifting slightly, searching for more, but he shakes his head.

“Not yet… I need to feel you,” he breathes, one hand coming up to brush your cheek, keeping himself steady with the other.

“Aang—” your voice comes out softer, pleading, but he clicks his tongue lightly.

“Stay like this,” he murmurs, drawing in a breath as your body reacts again. “Can you do it for me?” he asks, voice wavering slightly.

You hesitate, your body wanting more, and he sees that immediately.

“Please, please— just… let me feel you a little longer,” he speaks in that soft voice of his, making you dizzy.

“I need to remember how good you wrap around me when I’m away and I can’t touch you,” he breathes out, his free hand coming down your chest, palm cupping one of your breasts, kneading it harshly between his fingers.

His head comes down, lips grazing your neck, inhaling your scent as he starts leaving small pecks on your jaw, going up to your cheek. It was unknown to you how Aang was able to turn you on and make you feel butterflies at the same time.

His kisses were soft and needy, but the way his cock was buried so deep inside your cunt — twitching and growing — made you feel lightheaded. You were completely lost from the stretch, from how his cock could fit in so perfectly, how wet and hot it was to have him inside you without moving, just staying there, filling you up.

You can feel him, every inch, unmoving, overwhelming in its own way.

“I thought I was going crazy today,” he mutters as his lips leave pecks on yours, while his fingers rub your nipple, making you squirm under him.

“Mhm… I love this side of you,” you breathe out, your legs wrapping around his torso, holding him closer, keeping him there.

“I love it so much,” you whisper near his ear, your hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

“You… you do?” his voice falters, your body’s reaction drawing a shaky breath from him.

“Yes— yes,” you nod, holding onto him tighter.

“Please don’t say that— you’re making me— want to do things I shouldn’t,” he breathes through his nose, hot air coming through his nostrils and hitting your skin.

“No one’s stopping you, Aang,” you remind him, teeth grazing his earlobe, the action pulling another groan from him.

“I could stay inside you forever if you let me,” he says in a low voice, his cock twitching and his hold on your chest getting harsher, making you gasp.

“Yes…. Please, yes,” you nod mindlessly, eyes barely open.

That’s all he needed.

His head instantly drops into the crook of your neck, his body settling more fully against yours, arms wrapping around you as he finally lets himself move, just slightly, just enough to deepen the feeling of having you wrapped around him, all hot and wet.

And you hold him close.