lis

this was the third time in exactly three months that you’ve touched yourself in a slightly public place. by this point, you’ve become annoyingly familiar with the details of the empty parking lot you found yourself in. if anyone was around — although you were sure no one was — they’d definitely recognize you.

it would always start towards the end of a night out. when the moon was high and you’ve had just a bit too much to drink, your vodka ridden lips twisting into a grimace as you forced yourself out of the bar.

sometimes you were with your friends. laughing and stumbling down the street or straight into someones car. and sometimes, you were by yourself. like tonight.

lately, you haven't been going home right away.

you didn’t like being there anymore.

there always seemed to be an eerie feeling looming over you, as if you were being watched. it made your skin crawl.

the silhouette of a scar-lipped man followed you everywhere. his shadow in the corner of your eye, his figure outside your bedroom window, a creak in your floorboards as if he walked among them. you tried to tell yourself that you were being paranoid, surely there was no one following you. or watching you.

yet there were too many instances that made you feel like you weren’t truly alone. it was almost impossible to fully relax.

which is why you started coming here. the abandoned parking lot tucked behind an old building that you were sure was haunted. yet being tormented by ghosts didn’t seem as bad as being at home.

you shifted in your seat, rolling down the windows of your car to let the cool midnight air touch your skin. it sobered you up, only a little.

all you wanted was to forget the unsettling feeling of being watched, and this was the perfect way to do that.

you breathed in and out slowly, making a shallow attempt to unwind as you lowered the drivers seat slightly. once you were low enough, you gently let your legs spread apart, your pussy subtly starting to throb in anticipation.

you placed two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them lightly. getting them just wet enough to slide comfortably against the skin of your cunt as you put your hand into your panties. your breath hitched as your wet fingers made contact with the sensitive nerves of your clit.

they were warm as they began to rub in slow circles. applying just the right amount of pressure to make your brows furrow, to make yourself grow wetter.

you carefully slipped a finger inside, pushing all the way to the hypersensitive spot in the back. you pumped your fingers in and out of yourself, feeling your slick coating your hands. your back arched slightly off the warm leather of your seat, sweat starting to trickle down your chest.

your hips seemed to move on their own, chasing the friction of your finger. you were already getting close, sensitive from not making yourself feel good in a while.

you whined, getting so close that your eyes were starting to water.

until heavy footsteps in the distance made your heart stop.

you instantly took your fingers out, frantically searching the lot to make sure who ever was nearby hadn’t seen you. if they had, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stomach the embarrassment.

yet after holding your breath for a few seconds, you realized that there was no one around, and it remained eerily quiet. whoever it was seemed to be gone, unless you imagined it, and there was no one there at all.

maybe that was a good thing.

you shook your head, trying not to think too much about it. you slowly pushed your finger back inside. this time, adding two, and you felt your euphoria come back in almost an instant.

you were ruthless with yourself, speeding up the pace, pressing harder into your pussy, subconsciously grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. your slick fingers were growing shakier by the second, your movements were messy as you felt yourself slipping into an orgasm.

your eyes clenched shut, and your thighs pressed together as the familiar aching sensation swam in your lower belly, making you whimper.

you were so lost in your pleasure that you didn’t notice the car door open.

you couldn’t hear his cocky laugh until you felt him settling above you, the fabric of the seat starting to dip.

you opened your eyes rapidly, frantic and no longer concerned with feeling good.

you felt your stomach drop.

it was him, the man you’ve seen too many times before. the one you swore only existed in your imagination, now hovered above you, a wicked grin painted on his face as he looked you up and down. unashamed as he ripped your clothes off with his heated stare.

you couldn’t move. you were frozen. your heart was beating far too fast and you were sure you were going to pass out.

and yet, you found yourself slightly intrigued.

maybe it was the alcohol still running rampant in your body, making you bolder and strangely curious about the undoubtedly good-looking man who somehow managed to get inside your car. you were afraid, of course, though not as much as you should be.

you blinked, forcing yourself to speak and your mouth went dry.

“who are you?!” it was barely above a whisper as your words slurred together.

he didn’t answer you, only smiling wider. soon he was leaning down to place a wet kiss on your neck, and then another. he smiled into your skin.

“you smell good.” his hands were rough as they dug into the skin of your waist, forcing you against his chest.

you only halfway pushed him off of you, your hands were shaky and weak against his broad shoulders.

“h-how did you-” you gasped as he began to pull your sticky panties down your legs, balling them up and putting them into his pocket.

you looked him up and down, confused.

“how did you get in here?!”

“you left the doors unlocked.” he said quickly. plainly, as if him slipping inside was the most casual thing in the world.

his lips were on your neck again. sucking lightly on your throat, breathing into your skin as you felt a large, warm hand spread your shaky legs apart.

you weren’t sure if you should try to stop him again. you wanted to, but you couldn’t.

it felt wrong, so wrong. you were letting some stranger prepare to ruin you in the middle of the night. a random creep who broke into your car had your cum-stained panties in his pocket.

it was dirty.

still you couldn’t help the way your body leaned into him.

his thick finger swiped up and down your wet slit, prodding at your clit every once in a while, tapping it lightly. he smiled at the way your hips twitched.

“quit squirming.” his tone was sharp, a little mean. in no way matching the smile on his face or the mischievous glint in his eye.

you gasped as his whole hand cupped your pussy, the heel of his palm brushing your puffy clit instead of his finger now.

“i can’t-”

“can’t what?” he cut you off.

“you shouldn’t be doing this…i shouldn’t be-”

“shhh let me help you, baby. you obviously need it.” he cut you off again, licking a wet stripe along your skin, from the base of your neck up to your ear. he licked the side of your face too, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“besides, i’ve been watching you for so long, wanting you for so long. i just can’t help myself.”

he moved his lips from the side of your face, dragging them against the skin until he left a kiss on your temple. you swore you felt him smelling your hair, deeply inhaling with a grunt.

“you want me too, right?”

you shook your head, confused.

“uh…i don’t know…”

he rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in disappointment.

his rough hands slapped your cunt, rough enough to make you flinch. the pain was sharp, making your fingers dig deeper into the leather seat.

he slapped it again.

“o-oh fuck!” you groaned as you threw your head back.

“don’t lie. you want me and you know it.” he gently pinched your swollen bud with his thumb and index finger, taking pleasure in the way it made you squirm.

“i can feel how much you love it. your pussy’s fucking begging for me. poor girl.”

another slap, you winced and he only laughed at you.

“how filthy.”

there was another kiss to your neck before he hovered over your ear, leaning close to whisper to you. you could hear the smile on his face.

“i’ll take real good care of you. that’s what you want, right?”

you nodded without meaning to, too desperate to feel something, and much too drunk to have self respect.

“thought so.”

his hands were rough on you. groping the flesh of your tits, your ass, your hips, like he owned your body. all while he left sloppy kisses along the curves of you. a trail of his saliva coated the skin of your neck, down to your inner thigh. he bit the skin a little, leaving a mark.

because he’d taken your panties, your pussy was already bare for him. he loved it, you could tell he did.

he wasted no time licking a long stripe up your wet cunt, his lips immediately sucking on your clit. he groaned, and the vibrations of his voice against you made you gasp.

you grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing him deeper into you, and swore you could feel him laugh.

his rough hands held your hips down, keeping you from twitching. yet it was hard not to with the way his tongue devoured you. sloppy and uncaring, the wet muscle pumped in and out of you, curling against your fluttering walls and making you writhe.

he leaned back a little, and you saw that his face was covered in you. he stuck his tongue out, letting a fat string of saliva fall onto your clit before slurping you up again.

“i know it feels good, doesn’t it baby?” he asked you, his voice muffled as he nuzzled into you deeper, nose bumping into your clit.

you nodded again.

“say it.” he demanded.

“i-it feels good! fuck! it’s so g-good..”

he swapped his tongue for two thick fingers inside of you. scissoring them, curling them forward, anything to make you writhe.

it was too much, you were gonna cum again. and he could tell.

he quickly took his fingers out, making you flinch, the cool air hitting your pussy was an unwelcome feeling.

you whined without thinking, your voice pathetic. “why’d you stop?!”

you searched his face for an answer, but he didn’t give you one. instead, you watched as he removed his belt and undid his dirty jeans, shoving them down his legs. soon his heavy cock was springing free and you felt yourself start to shake, and he watched you.

he didn’t give you any time to adjust before he was pushing inside of you, stretching you out so much it stung. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, distracting yourself from the pain, pulling him closer without realizing it.

he was mean with the way he rammed in and out of you. it was fast-paced and frenzied. you watched him through half-lidded eyes, watching as he smiled down at you with an eerie expression, it was almost crazed.

“you look so cute like this. full of me.” he grunted, gripping your thighs so hard you were sure they’d bruise. maybe that was what he wanted. with how rough he was handling you, you were starting to wonder if marking you up was something he enjoyed.

“so fucking cute.”

soon his large hand was on your jaw, forcing your mouth open so he could kiss you. his lips were surprisingly soft against yours, messy and still sticky from earlier. his tongue ran against your own, prodding along the back of your mouth before removing his lips from yours. he pulled at your chin, making you open your mouth wider so his lips could wrap around your tongue, sucking on it with a groan.

you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth when his other hand reached down to slap your clit again; you flinched.

you were clenching around him, close to finishing. and with the way his hips started to stutter, you were wondering if he was close too. he must have been.

your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close as you finally came. you were sweating, breathing heavily as you tried to pull him further into you. he released your tongue with a smile, laughing at how easily you broke for him.

he followed you soon after, sloppily pulling out to cum all over your chest. the ropes of white starting to bleed into your shirt and roll down the rest of your body. he lifted his hand to smear a bit of it all over your lips and face; he laughed.

you were dazed. unsure of what to do or say, because how were you even supposed to respond in a situation like this?

you stared at him blankly, partly because that was the only thing you could do. you were breathing so hard you were sure you couldn’t speak properly.

he didn’t say a word.

instead, he pulled out his phone, taking a picture of your fucked-out face with the flash on. obnoxious.

“why’d you do that..?” you questioned, still struggling to find your voice.

he laughed, smoothing down a few stray pieces of your hair and placing a surprisingly gentle kiss on your forehead.

“wanna remember this. but don’t worry, i’ll get a better picture next time.”

a/n🪽: first time writing pussy slapping can u tell i have no idea what i’m talking about (also pls don’t drive while drunk this was for fictional purposes only….)

₊˚⊹ 𖨂 t.list: @veluoriaaa @cupidstrace @lizzabat @luffyluvrs

deep within the confines of his mind, choso liked to believe that he was a good, rational person. a sane person. not too loud, not too confrontational, and definitely not a creep.

he wasn’t. he knew that.

yet he found himself questioning the limits of his morality when he first saw you.

you were the prettiest kind of daydream, the culmination of everything he desired, and the only thing that got him up in the morning. whether you knew it or not, the very moment the two of you made eye contact — albeit brief — you became his sole reason for living.

there was something about you that he couldn't quite name, it was powerful. it drew him in, far more intensely than any other crush had in the past.

with that came an urge to keep you close, to keep you safe. that was the basis of his newfound behavior that took place solely in your shadow. he knew that he was the only one who could protect you, the only one who would treat you the way he knew you deserved to be treated.

it started with small things, as it always does.

he’d memorize your daily schedule, when and where you took your classes, how many breaks you had within the day, and how often you used your downtime for studying, or for something else. just to make sure you were staying on top of your school work, of course.

and then, the pictures. any chance he got to capture your perfect face in a pure, candid moment, a beautiful and electrifying kind of adrenaline lit him on fire. he eventually bought a special camera, just for you. if he was going to have your face plastered all over the walls of his dorm room, he wanted them to be in the highest quality.

after that, he thought it might be best to follow you. from your classes, to the mall, to the café. anywhere you went, he followed, committed like a loyal dog. just to make sure you were getting where you needed to go safely. why else would he do it? he needed to see where you were going, needed to make sure that no one else messed with you.

or spoke to you.

or looked at you.

he really hated it when other men looked at you.

because he knew what they were thinking, he knew their minds. he was all too aware of the disgusting, perverted things they were thinking of doing to you. it made him feel sick, it made him feel uncomfortable. he just couldn’t have that.

so when he watched you take some guy back to your apartment after a night out, he felt like he was dying. he felt like everything divine and holy was punishing him, the air was stolen from his lungs, and all he could feel was hatred.

hatred as he crouched in front of your window.

hatred as he watched the guy take his pants off, hatred when he took your top off soon after.

but what he hated the most, was watching this degenerate force your head down on his cock, fucking up into your poor throat with no mercy. his heart hurt for you, simply because of the fact that you looked like you were in pain, gaining no pleasure from the situation at all.

and he couldn’t have that.

so when that disgusting excuse of a man finally left you, and you were alone and about to go to sleep, he gently lifted your window open. he wasn’t sure whether to scold you or thank you for leaving it unlocked.

once he was inside, he couldn’t stop himself from towering over you. watching you as you drifted off in your dreams without a care in the world. just so pretty for him, he couldn’t take it.

he couldn’t stop himself.

he gently knelt by the edge of the bed, leaning on the silk sheets of the mattress to place a kiss along the exposed skin of your neck. you smelled so perfect, so sweet, so delicious that it went straight to his cock, already leaking just from the sight of you.

it wasn’t supposed to go this far, it was supposed to stay innocent. he just wanted to look; he just wanted to see you, yet he had no room to deny that he was obsessed with you.

and you were an obsession worth indulging.

his kisses grew more passionate, more desperate. sucking and biting the skin of your neck, moving down to your collarbone, taking in every inch of you.

until you twitched, moved underneath him and his heart stopped beating.

“w-what’s happening…” your voice was muddled with sleep, confused as you shifted away from him.

he felt pathetic, his stomach was reduced to knots and he realized he was going too far, nearing a point he told himself he wouldn’t cross.

“fuck…i’m so sorry..i’m sorry.” over and over again did he apologize, almost stumbling backwards as he backed away from you. reduced to a shameful husk as he tried to climb out of your window. making a promise to himself to never go this far again.

until you spoke up. gentler this time, more hesitant. like you weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, yet your mouth moved before you could stop it.

“um, wait…you don’t have to go...yet.”

he was quickly by your side again, eyes wide and glimmering in the light from your open window. they were full of hope, full of dreams, anticipating where this could lead.

he ignored the uncertain look on your face, ignored you whispering to yourself “what am i doing?” over and over again. because if he did, he got to pretend that you wanted this just as surely as he did.

he cleared his throat, avoided your gaze when he spoke. “i’m really sorry. i was watching you, and i saw what that asshole did to you. he didn’t even touch you, and it made me angry so i-”

he cleared his throat again, nervous. he shifted a little, to properly sit on the bed and be face-to-face with you, yet he could only clearly focus on your lips.

“i wanted to help you.”

your brows furrowed. “…help me?”

he nodded, oh so eager. “yes. please, let me.”

you blinked and he was suddenly much closer than before, leaning into your neck, large hands going under your shirt to caress the soft skin of your waist. he felt you shiver against his touch, and he smiled.

“let me make you feel good.”

his warm mouth sucked on your throat, biting you, kissing you all the way down your chest. he breathed you in, placed his hands on your hips as he tried to bring you as close as possible.

soon enough he was right in front of your cunt the very thing he’d been dreaming of for as long as he could remember. every night he’d tug on his poor cock just at the thought of you, what you’d look like, what you’d taste like, and now it was his reality.

his breath was warm against it, his thumb gently pressing against your swollen clit, he could see it all perked up through your panties. he pressed again and your hips jerked forward.

“um…aren’t you gonna take them off?” you whispered, already breathless from his touch.

he shook his head. “too much work.”

his hands were firm around your legs, grounding you, bringing you closer as he let his saliva pool on his tongue. then it was flat against you, licking a slow stripe up to your clit. he wrapped his lips around it, sucking it gently, drooling all over you. he was humping the edge of your bed without even realizing it.

with each lick, each kiss, you lifted your hips to feel more of him. whimpering at the way his fingers rubbed up and down your slit. it was almost obscene, the way he was so desperate to devour you that he didn’t care to remove the layer separating you.

the friction of his tongue and fingers through the cloth of your underwear made you gasp, it made your head spin. it was warm and damp and you needed as much of him as possible.

he whined into your pussy, the mere act of having his mouth on it made him so desperate. his voice was muffled against you. “i’m sorry for being such a nasty pervert, but i- i just need you.”

he was quick to move your panties to the side, yet not taking them off completely. soon, he gently pushed a long finger into you, curling up into the sensitive part of you that made you knees buckle. your thighs clenched around his head, but he used his other hand to push them back open, shaking his head in a silent “no.”

he was sucking on your clit again, grinding into the edge of your bed without shame. whimpering desperately into you while he chased his own high. he was so needy for you, furrowed brows, flushed cheeks, eyes that rolled back into his head. the very act of getting you off was doing wicked things to him.

without warning, he stuck another finger into you.

“a-ah feels so good!” you cried.

two fingers pumped in and out of you, a wet tongue ran up and down your cunt, sucking on your clit every once in a while. it was wet, it was sloppy, something slick and shiny was smeared all over his chin, and it was becoming too overwhelming; it felt too good.

“oh fuck! i-i think i’m gonna cum.” you gasped, pathetic, fingers digging into your sheets. no longer caring that some man who snuck into your room was eating you out.

he practically sobbed. “just give it to me, please. want you to cum because of me.” he kissed your clit. “i need it so bad.”

your orgasm came within seconds, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, pulsing against his tongue. you squirted all over his face. a part of you was embarrassed and wanted to apologize, but he didn’t seem to mind.

he kept going.

there were too many feelings at once, it started to ache. tears formed at the corner of your eyes from the pressure of his tongue, from the fact that he wouldn’t give you a break.

“p-please s-stop i can’t do it anymore.” you whispered, but he simply shook his head again, pushing into you further.

“i’m sorry, i know it’s too much. i’m almost done angel, i promise.” he groaned again, adding a third finger, slurping at your clit even harder than before.

he whined, pushing deeper into the bed and you knew he was close. his eyes were watery, glassy with the pleasure of tasting you.

you watched as he finished himself off, grinding deeper into your bed and whining into your slobbering, overstimulated pussy.

you were heaving, sweating, borderline fatigued after having him taste you.

everything was still sensitive, you winced as he pulled his fingers out of you, and removed your panties from you completely.

there was no way he was gonna try and eat you out again, right?

no, he wouldn’t. instead, he pressed his tongue right against the fabric, right where your bare pussy rubbed against it. he sucked on it, trying to drink more of you through the fabric. he needed to taste every single drop.

with a shaky sigh, he stood up on wobbly legs, cock still leaking and head still half-fucked, he was almost delirious. “i’m gonna keep these, okay?” he leaned over to kiss your forehead before making his way to your open window.

you shook your head, confused. a thousand questions rushed through you. who was he? what just happened? and- “wait what are you gonna do with them?”

he shrugged.

“frame them, probably.”

and just like that, he was gone.

a/n 🪽: he’s so cute he gets a pass for being a stalker ^.^

after sex with sukuna, your body isn’t yours for a while.

not really. not when your thighs are still twitching, and your cunt’s still leaking, and he’s still there, watching you fall apart in the ruin he made.

he likes loves the mess. likes what it means. doesn’t care that you’re sore or shivering or barely coherent—if anything, that’s part of the appeal. it’s not enough for him to fuck you. not enough to cum inside you. no, sukuna wants to see it drip. wants to taste it after. wants to bury his face between your legs and lick every drop of himself back out like it belongs to him. because it does.

you’re still trying to catch your breath when he moves again.

your legs are heavy. your chest’s still heaving. your whole body’s pulsing in aftershocks from how hard he fucked you—rough and fast, hand on your throat, hips unrelenting, cock shoved so deep you still feel him inside, even though he’s not. even though he’s already pulled out and left you aching.

you don’t realize he’s gone until the mattress shifts at your feet. until you blink your eyes open and see him between your legs again. crouched. staring.

“what are you doing,” you whisper, voice cracked.

you try to close your legs and he laughs.

that mean little grunt of a sound, deep in his chest, all teeth. “don’t be shy now,” he says, hand already flattening over your thigh to keep you open, wide, spread, ruined. “you let me fuck it, you let me fill it—what, now you wanna act all modest?”

he doesn’t wait for an answer. doesn’t need one.

because he’s already got his face between your legs again, tongue dragging slow and low through the mess he left inside you, and fuck, it’s so much worse this time—so much worse when it’s not about pleasure, not about your orgasm, not about anything soft or sweet.

it’s filthy. it’s disgusting. it’s him chasing the taste of his own cum out of you like he’s thirsty for it, like he wants to drink every last drop just to remind you who it belongs to.

he groans like you’re dinner. he growls like you’re prey. slurping it up like he’d bite if he weren’t too busy licking.

“messy little thing,” he mutters into your cunt, mouth still full. “can’t even hold it in, huh?”

you shake your head. you’re crying again, probably. overstimulated and twitching and raw all over, but his grip doesn’t soften, doesn’t let you run. he just goes deeper, tongue fucking into you like he wants to stir it back out, like he wants to savor the way it spills from you, thick and warm and still dripping down your thighs.

and when you flinch—when you try to squirm away, useless little whimper in your throat—he drags his tongue all the way up and spits it back on your pussy.

“tastes better like this,” he says, like he’s just talking to himself now. “you. me. all mixed together.” another slow lick. another long groan. “like you were made to keep me inside you.”

you shake your head. you can’t even look at him—but he makes you.

grabs your chin with one wet hand and forces your gaze down—makes you watch him tongue through the mess between your legs like a man possessed. messy. loud. claiming you all over again.

sum. your ex comes over to get his stuff....

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ cw. oral (f receiving), reader has pubic hair (bushplay??), sukuna being a dickhead

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ an. based off a request. this kinda sucks sorry guys....

When the doorbell rings, you know it's him before you swing it open.

You're met with a wall of inked muscle towering over you, crimson eyes neutral in a way that never betrays anything underneath.

"Here for my stuff."

All you do is give a curt nod and step aside to let him in.

No words are exchanged as he gathers his things, taking care to erase any evidence he was ever here.

You linger at the back of the room, watching him.

The breakup itself had been mutual—clean, even. Too clean.

And that was part of the problem.

He was too much like you. And that similarity could only ever lead to disaster: two stubborn, unhealthy people grinding against each other until something gave.

Constant friction, no give.

It still hurts, regardless. Even now, your chest aches in that dull, muted way that never quite sharpens into pain but never fades either.

And, unfortunately, you’re still—embarrassingly—attracted to him. Maybe more than before.

Maybe because the possibility of a last time coils around every look, every almost-conversation, making everything feel urgent and unfinished.

You watch his muscles shift under that shirt that's too damn tight, watch the faint furrow in one slotted brow.

And there's only one thing you can think about at this moment.

You shouldn't but you do—

"Wait." You stop him as he turns to leave.

He pauses, narrows his eyes, waiting for you to speak.

“Can you…” You trail off. Even now, your ego gets in the way.

He cocks a brow. “Did you forget how to finish sentences, or something? Might want to get that checked.”

That does it. He manages—effortlessly, as always—to get under your skin.

Humiliating, how asking anything of him still feels like losing.

You grit your teeth, force your lips into a sharp smile. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Just—leave.”

It works.

His nostrils flare, irritation flashing across his face—because now he really, really wants to know what you were going to say.

You recognize the look immediately—the one that always precedes a bad decision.

“Say it.”

You swallow, shifting on your heels.

Already, you can feel how much of an ass he’s going to be about this.

And just like always, he’s more than ready to dive headfirst into it with you.

"…I want you to eat me out."