kyn

You’re a fucking succubus.

He backs out the one he’d been lingering on the longest, scrolling through options for a moment before clicking on another, interest spiking when he notices that you’re alone in the frame. Eyes wide as he watches with rapt attention as you mumble something to yourself, barely audible even to his in-ear headphones and maxed volume.

Satoru’s gaze glissades over your naked form, focused on the way your knees spread open to reveal your already-slick pussy. Licking his flushed, chewed-up lips as he locks onto the way your fingers tremble as you dance them over your clit, rubbing tentative circles there as you build confidence.

A nagging, needling pit builds in his belly, just beneath the haze of lust-driven motivation he’d been coasting on. This video was different than the others— there wasn’t someone else beneath or above you, no practiced script or angles to disconnect him from the intimacy. 

This was just… you. Like you’d just sat down and propped up a camera where it was most comfortable. Satoru can’t help but let himself spiral into thought even as his hand quickens in pace to match yours.

Who did you record this for?

You never spoke of a boyfriend- hell, if you had one, Satoru would’ve been the first to know. He would’ve noticed the changes in your voice, your personality, the potential trinkets added to your room. 

He groans as your moans pitch up, licking his lips to the spread you provide. Wondering how you’d taste, sweet or savory. Whether you’d let your juices trickle down his throat and chin, if you’d let him stay between your thighs for hours like he’d imagined.

Voice rough and low, he hums to himself. “Look at that- ah- pretty pussy, all wet n’ needy. That’s all for me, isn’t it? Hahh… better be.”

His head tips back, thumping against the headrest of his seat. Fist twisting around the shaft and tightening down like he’d picture your walls doing when he hit that spot over and over, battering himself into it.

“God, look at you,” he breathes. “Can’t believe my sweet student’s actually been a little slut all this time, playin’ with herself on camera like this. Bet we’d make a goooood fuckin’ movie together, wouldn’t we?”

His hips jerk up, sensitive. “I could take such good care of you, baby. Suck on those pretty nipples n’ play with your clit while I fuck you, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Y-yeahh, you would.”

Ivory bangs sticking to his forehead, he jerks his hips up, feet planting onto the ground as he ruts into his own palm. Precum pulsing from his salty divot, Satoru moans as you click on a tapered vibrator, sliding it between your puffy folds.

“O-oh, yeah, just like that,” he mumbles. Cock throbbing in his palm as his big balls tighten up again already. “Close– heh, close already.. look what you do to me. S’posed to be all big n’ bad, but m’just so weak-”

The vibrator hums as you push it an inch into your slit, some pre-recorded pattern pulsing as your hips rock along with it. A broken noise spills out of you, echoed by Satoru as he whines in response. 

“Cuhhh-close, baby,” he babbles, head thrown back. Fist frantically plap-plap-plapping! against his base as he chases the lightning racing up his spine. “You gonna take it all? Fuck- listen how wet you are, that’s all for me, too—”

His abs tense, thighs shaking and knees knocking together with every thrust, riding the high out as long as he can. Sweat beads down his temple and flecks off his jaw, dripping onto his collarbone and down the valley of his chest. 

“Ngghhhh—fuck!”

Satoru chokes on a moan as thick ropes of pearly cum erupt over his fist, fountaining onto his stomach and chest, all the way up to where he’s got his sweater pushed up to his throat. Fingers trembling around his cock, the strawberry-red tip throbs to the rhythm of his erratic heartbeat, letting out a few more weaker spurts as he coasts down through it.

“Hahhh…” he pants, head tipping to the side as he slumps back, exhausted and finally sated. Eyes half-lidded as he watches you take yourself through one orgasm and begin working yourself to the next, relaxing to the sounds of the sweet melody you create, thumb tapping to the beat of the vibrated patterns.

Tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap.

Well, if curiosity killed Satoru….

He hums, plucking up a pen and sitting forward in the chair. Listening to the sound of your pussy squelching as he writes out the pattern your vibrator purrs and translates it to morse code.

H-I.

G-O-J-O.

“Oh, shit.”

Maybe satisfaction will bring him back.

He grins. Mischief glinting in his eyes, like he knew the effect he had on you. “I asked you a question: do you want a booth, or a regular seat?”

Blinking, you shrug. “A booth, if possible.”

Nodding, your white-haired dreamboat turns to grab a menu from the rack at the counter, giving you a brief second to peek at his physique again. Ogling him and his chest, briefly noticing the nametag pinned to his left breast.

Satoru. 

Of course a cute guy would have a cute name.

Satoru steps back towards you, hoisting the menu to his elbow and motioning you to follow with his other hand. “C’mon, this way,” he directs, one palm open at your side, weaving and navigating with the expertise of someone who was obviously familiar with the busy terrain. “It’s a little busy today, sorry.”

“No worries, I understand,” you try to offer, nodding in understanding. Attempting to not trip over yourself when he smiles in your direction. “Are you going to be my server?”

He laughs at that, leaving you a little confused for a second before he adds on, “I wish, but no. I’m up at the front desk today. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they take extra good care of you.”

You hum, fiddling with the corner of the textbook. Let him set the menu down on the empty booth table before sliding into one side of it, dropping your things in their respective places. 

Embarrassingly stuttering over your words, you nod again. “O-okay. Sounds good.”

Satoru flashes one last customer-service smile at you, though it doesn’t exactly resemble the politeness he seemed to be trying to emanate. It was a little sly, deceitful in the way a wolf could be when luring a sheep directly into the pack den. 

“Don’t worry, the guys’ll love you,” he assures. Giving you a two-finger salute before disappearing back towards his seat at the front counter.

Settling in your seat, you finally set the textbook on the top of the table and flip it open to the page you dog-eared previously. Skimming over the paragraphs until you found where you were struggling before, thumbing open your notebook and uncapping your pen to take notes.

Beginning to scrawl in quick, jagged handwriting: the rectus abdominis muscles are crossed by three fibrounds bands…

You don’t know how long you write. Finally getting into a rhythm of reading and annotating on your own sheet, looking between each bracket of information and studying the diagrams of muscle filaments and their placements over sheaths and cartilage.

A shadow falls over your textbook, cutting the light from above. Lifting your head, you meet the eyes of the most handsome man you think you’ve ever seen— tan skin, sharp jawline, full lips bisected at the left side by a thin scar.

And those eyes. Shades of emerald and jade narrowing down at you as you stare up at him, black hair chopped just above his eyebrows and framing his ears. Adam’s apple bobbing before he finally speaks in such a deep voice that you can’t help but tremble a little.

What? It’s not like you were exactly experienced when it came to talking to guys in this caliber of good-looking.

Especially not the kind that would blatantly flex every muscle in their arms and chest when your gaze just so happened to trail down, down, down over and over like a compass seeking north.

“My name’s Toji, I’ll be your server,” he greets. Yet again tensing his bicep against the rolled fabric of his cotton t-shirt, thin black fabric tightening over the cords of muscle. “Do you still need time to look over the menu?”

You blink. Try to swallow the spit that’s pooled beneath your tongue. Jerking your focus from his very-handsome face to instead glance at the menu, then back at him.

Forcing your focus on anything but the way the corners of his lips twitch in amusement when you lick your lips at the sight of him again. 

“Umm, I’ve never been here before,” you trail off, squirming a little under his attention. “Can I just get what you usually get instead?”

His brow raises. Echoing your words, “What I usually get?”

You chew your bottom lip. “Well, yeah. Like something to drink.”

Was that a weird request? You didn’t think so, but the way he was staring at you—

“Alright, then,” Toji shrugs. “Just don’t say you hate it.”

Turning away, he leaves you there for a few minutes. You peek towards the employee entrance to the kitchen just to see him leaning up against the open door, arms crossed as he talks to someone obscured by the other door. 

Would it be tacky to leave your number on a napkin when you leave?

Deliberating over your future choice rather than trying to cram in a couple extra minutes of studying, hardly noticing his return until he set down a paper cup that was definitely not from here.

Oh well. Sniffing at the contents, it smells pleasantly enough. Even if it ended up being poison, atleast you wouldn’t have to end up taking the exam and potentially flunking it again.

“Order up,” he hums, leaning forward to peer at your textbook again. Curiously questioning, “Whatcha studying for?”

Lifting the cup, you swallow a sip and subsequently cough as it goes down the wrong pipe, cheeks flushing hot as you clear your throat. “Anatomy for a test I flunked,” you answer. Tittering, “I was hoping I’d be able to reference some of the employees here, but it’s a little distracting.”

Suddenly a little self-conscious, you peek up at him. Looking between his emerald eyes for a hint on his perception of you.

Did he think you were weird? Sure, you were okay with being labelled a geek— hell, most days you took pride in the title— but now? When you might have the chance of getting a hot guy's number if you played your cards right?

Being single was starting to get a little lonely. Who would blame you if you tried to change that?

Toji, despite your worries, seems to take your answer with newfound interest. Casually nodding as he speaks up again. “Cool. I actually studied kinesiology in college, so I could try to help you out, if you want. No pressure.”

Cute and smart?

Jackpot!

You nod, maybe a little more eagerly than intended. But he doesn’t seem to mind.

Instead letting himself leaaannn over the edge of the table, large palms splayed flat against the dark wood. The cords of his deltoids flex just beneath the hem of the shirt, close enough now that you could distinctly make out the citrus and sandalwood notes of his cologne beneath the tang of a long shift. 

He reads your notes quickly, plump lower lip caught between his teeth before he lets it snap free. Reaching up and out, he taps a blunt finger over your notes.

“You should make acronyms to remember the proper names better,” Toji advises, glancing at your expression before looking back to the spiral-bound pages. “Helped me out a little, atleast. Been a while since I was in school though, so I dunno if they’re teachin’ different things now.”

Before you can respond, a tattooed arm loops over Toji’s shoulder, your server’s form crowded closer to you as a taller, bulkier man sidles his way in.

“Don’t tell me you’re holding out on the Employee of the Month now, Fushiguro,” the second man drawls, finally stepping into sight. His grin is all teeth, charming and predatory in the way he oozes easy confidence. 

Pretty pink dyed hair tussled into a wild arrangement that barely concealed the dark roots returning, jawline blunt and eyes crinkling at the corners. Studs pierced into the lobes of his ears and thin bars prodding between the curved shells. Tattoos loop around his wrists, forearms, biceps and more, disappearing beneath the hem of an equally thin t-shirt, reappearing again along the sharper edges of his jaw and cheekbones. 

The kind of ink that’d turn most businesses away for fear of criminal activity.

The kind that was oh so affectionately titled a ‘career killer.’

It certainly didn’t kill the mood. If anything, your thighs squeezed together, gaze rovering down his front before refocusing back up to their faces.

What were the odds of a business having three hot employees?

Twenty-three percent?

Less, probably.

Toji, however, doesn’t find the intrusion pleasant. Turning his scarred lips down into a scowl as he levels his gaze at his colleague. “Man, fuck you. She’s in my section, not yours.”

His colleague only snickers. “Gojo sent me over here. Said you might need help ‘lessening your load’ since you seemed a little overworked. Don’t worry, I can take care of her plenty— show her all the ropes, teach her alllll different kinds of muscles.”

And judging from the way Toji’s chest puffs up, that seemed to be a sore spot between the two of them. With wide eyes, you watch as the two of them face off, muscles flexing and knuckles popping in silent competition.

It was like watching the Discovery Channel all over again. You could practically hear the narrator droning on in the back of your mind about pack dynamics, the fights for dominance between alphas, the consequences if neither won or stood down…

“Um, excuse me,” you finally chirp, voice wavering a little. Eyes growing wider when both heads whipped towards you as if suddenly reminded that you were right there listening to them. Both sets of irises are dark and wild with challenge. 

Swallowing, you regret speaking up for a moment. Subtly kicking yourself in the ankle beneath the table to spur yourself to continue.

“Maybe you both could help me study?” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Did you really just say that aloud? Trying to amend it quickly, “Sorry, I just thought that it might be better to learn if there’s multiple examples and techniques.”

Maybe the world would swallow you whole if you were lucky enough. 

The duo looks at you. Then to each other. Then back to you.

The second man recovers first. “Shit, yeah?”

“No, she didn’t mean it like that,” Toji cuts in. Glaring at his colleague, shifting his shoulder just enough that you could finally peek at the namebadge stuck to the other’s hidden pectoral.

Sukuna. 

Fuck it. What were the odds you’d get an opportunity like this again?

 You insist with a nod. “But I do, though.”

Sukuna blinks. Toji blinks. Both look at you like you’ve descended from the heavens.

“Yeah?” Toji murmurs. Lids lowering halfway as he puts his focus on you. “Shit.”

“Told you,” Sukuna pridefully hums. He knocks his head back, chin tipping towards a beaded curtain that presumably hid the employee hallway. “Knew I liked you. C’mon, pretty girl. Old man’s gotta pick his jaw up from the floor, it’ll take a minute.”

An offer you don’t dare question, instead picking up your things and cradling them in your arms as you slide yourself from the center of the booth to the end, following after the duo towards the back. Letting them guide you down a second hallway that splits off from the first, watching as Toji shoulders open a door and checks for residents before opening it fully to let you and Sukuna in.

Mere seconds after you cross the threshold, Toji’s letting the door swing and thump Sukuna’s shoulder as he walks in behind you, choosing to fit his palms on either side of your hips and walk you back towards the breakroom table. A gesture that would’ve been faintly sweet if it weren’t for the absolute heat smoldering in his irises.

Letting him crowd you up against it before your hands fly to his chest, positively quivering when Toji leans low enough to speak next to your ear. “Well? Go ahead and start studying, doll. Got a perfect model right here f’you.”

Cheeks warming, you’re stammering out, “O-okay.” Lifting your hands up to slip beneath his shirt, forcing your focus to the man in front of you rather than the one over his shoulder who was making a show of locking the door. “Like this?”

When your palms make contact with his abdomen, two things happen. One, Toji hisses at the brush of clammy skin against his infernally-heated flesh. Two, his hips jut forward, and you let out the loudest gasp possible.

Not because he had a set of abs so perfect hidden beneath his shirt that it should’ve been a crime— even though he did— but because the thick line of his crotch bumped against your lower belly. Erection so firm and prominent that the single brush of contact had you nearly squealing and wrenching your hands off of him.

“Whatever you want,” Toji murmurs, the low rumble of his voice catching your breath. He drags the tip of his nose across the crown of your head, dragging in the scent of your shampoo by the lungful. “Ain’t gonna bite if you want to go lower, though.”

Sukuna snorts behind him, but doesn’t say anything. Just leans up against the wall and watches as you continue to explore without correction. 

Toji turns his head to look over his shoulder, frowning. Reaching back behind his head and tugging his shirt up and off, revealing the sculpted torso of someone who very clearly enjoyed laborious hours at the gym. 

And fuck if you aren’t totally drinking it in. Even the finest marble statues didn’t portray the potential of man that Toji so easily did— bulging pectorals with tanned nipples faintly erect from the air conditioning, biceps filled out and flexed taut, prominent veins zig-zagging up and down and down from the crook of his elbow to the heel of his palms. 

Those abs, though… a perfect eight-pack ladder stacked and ridged to perfection, three thin veins crawling up towards his navel from just beneath the band of his bottoms. A prominent v-line cutting off where he pushes the waistband down just enough to show off the small dusting of coarse black hair that peeked out.

Mindlessly letting your palms descend until the tips of your fingers barely brush the pubis bone. Whispering more to yourself than him, “It’s… impressive.”

Toji chuckles, abs flexing. “Just impressive?”

You lift your eyes to his. Swallowing the saliva that pooled beneath your tongue. “You’ve got a really nice definition.”

Toji hums above you, clearly pleased. Raising his voice just loud enough that Sukuna would hear from across the room, “Hear that, jackass? She said I’ve got a really nice definition.”

Said man crosses the room and peels his own shirt from his torso without thought, shouldering Toji aside and taking his place in front of you. Pulling you from where you half-sat on the edge of the table to put you right in front of him.

“Nah, she just hasn’t seen real strength yet,” Sukuna growls. Wrapping one massive hand around your wrist to guide you to touch the plush bulk of his pectoral. Close enough now that when he leans forward you can clearly see the dark carmine hues of his irises twinkle. “Too busy fuckin’ around with wimps.”

You take the chance to survey him. Where Toji was all definition and meticulously built with precise cuts and edges, Sukuna was bulky and broad. Muscles thicker and less defined like he was mid bulking season permanently, pectorals bulging with the quality of a perfectly firm pillow. 

The tattoos formerly covered by his shirt span down and cut jagged lines over the twin loops hooking through dusty-rose coloured nipples, beginning again along his sides until they cut off just above the ridge of his jeans. Trimmed above the belt rather than letting it grow as wild as his hair was.

“See, brat? Tell him I’ve got a better physique,” Sukuna frowns. Competitive. 

“Man, why don’t you fuck off somewhere?” Toji grunts, reaching around you to swat at the other man with an open palm. Turning you back to face him and pulling you into his chest, face buried between his pecs. “Nobody wants to see your fat ass around here anyways.”

“Says the broke guy who sneaks cakes out the back door—”

You pry yourself from Toji’s chest, cheeks flaming hot as you interrupt. “You’re both really fit, isn’t that good enough?”

Their eyes turn to you, brows furrowed in the same expression. Like you’d just failed the most obvious test known to man despite both of them wanting a different answer.

Oops. 

Toji presses closer, sandwiching you firmly between them. One large hand raised up to cup your jaw with false sweetness, guiding your face upwards to look at him and solely him. Suddenly so sweet that you’re sure he’s leading you into a trap.

“You’re supposed to be the smart one, aren’t you?” Toji drawls. Thumbpad smearing your plush lower lip down and letting it pop free. “C’monn, use that pretty brain and tell us who you think is really better.”

You chew at your lip. “Well… you have a really great insertion in your obliques,” Toji hums at that, already approving. Your hands shift to trail over his abdomen, all while Sukuna crowds behind you. “And a prominent Adonis belt.”

Sukuna’s deeper voice rumbles behind you. “Bet mine feels better, though. Go ahead and tell ‘em.”

Toji’s eyes lift to look at the man behind you. Staring each other down over your head. 

Offering in favor of balancing the scales again, “Mmh, Sukuna does have a pretty defined serratus anterior.”

Which pleases Sukuna far more than you thought possible. “See, Fushiguro? She likes my serra-tits.”

“She said serratus, moron.”

Toji crowds in closer. Sukuna matches the action. Stuck between them, you truly question whether it’d be possible to suffocate with what little space you had between the two hulks of muscle. 

Oh well. If this was the way you died, you’d die happy.

Faintly listening to Sukuna’s retort, “I’ll show you some serra-tits—”

And Toji’s correction, “Serratus—”

Before finally cutting in once more. “Can you two ease off or something?”

Their jaws click shut so fast you think you can hear the audible snap. 

Toji’s hand flexes before he drops it to your hip, finally regarding you again as he drops his verdant gaze back down to yours— eyes flitting between both of yours to catalogue the flush that’s ridden high on your cheeks and the slight expansion of your pupils.

“How about this,” Toji’s voice lowers, rumbling as he leans lower down towards you. His breath fans out across your lips, the slight tang of cigarettes sweetened by a fruitier dessert he must’ve had sometime during his shift. “We’ll stop fighting if you can tell us who you want to kiss more. Me, or him?”

“O-oh?” You blink. A subtle shiver runs up your spine, sparks tingling outwards at the very prospect. Noticing how close Toji was, close enough to see the faint flecks of gold and darker green surrounding his expanded pupils. 

Lowering your eyes just enough to glance at his lips, imagining the plush skin pushing against yours. Wondering how the scar would feel across yours, whether it’d be soft or rough. Deciding in an instant, “You.”

“Atta girl,” Toji grins. He drops his head towards yours, one hand lifting to cradle the back of your neck, meeting you in an absolutely filthy kiss from the start. His tongue swipes over your lips in a quick request for more, immediately met when your mouth parts to accept him. 

Pitifully moaning into his mouth when his other hand holds firm on your hip, pulling you close to him. Breasts pillowing against his chest as he gulps you down, nipping and tugging at your lower lip, practically feasting on you.

Parting reluctantly with a wet smack when air becomes a necessity, a string of spit clinging between your tongues until it snaps with a wet pah! and spatters against your chin. 

Toji doesn’t back off. Instead, his eyes flick above your head where his neglected colleague stands. Speaking to you without tearing his eyes from Sukuna. “Tell ‘Kuna bye-bye, baby. Toji’ll take care of you all by himself.”

Sukuna snorts, looming in behind you until his chest presses to your back. You’re suddenly aware of a certain man’s arousal tented against your ass, rubbing discreetly with every shift of his hips. 

“Naw— tell Jiji here you don’t want me to leave,” Sukuna rumbles, the smile obvious in his voice. His large, broad hands loop around you, just barely shy of hovering the cups of your bra. His head lowers next to yours, the crooked bridge of his nose bumping against your cheekbone. “Go ahead and tell him how bad you want a real man to touch you.”

“Man, fuck you—”

Cutting in once again, as if wrangling toddlers rather than grown men nearly double your size, “Can’t you both just get along for ten seconds?”

For once, the two don’t argue. Almost synchronized as they chirp, “Yes ma’am.”

Toji’s hands adjust where they’d been holding you first, fisting your shirt and tugging it over your head in a quick swipe, tossing it elsewhere. Sukuna’s hands quickly replace it, tugging down the cups of your bra and holding your breasts himself, kneading them and flicking his thumbs over your nipples. 

Gasping softly, you crane to reconnect the kiss with Toji, hands reaching to fist his shirt and cling to him. He meets you with unerring force, tongue shoved against yours once more, groaning at the second taste of you.

Sukuna’s grip shifts on your breasts as he lowers one to the hip untouched by Toji, dragging you back against him, grinding the length of his erection over your ass in passes. The button of his jeans catches, earning a grunt and shaky breath that fans over the curve of your shoulder.

“Have you done this before?” Toji mumbles into your mouth, easing back just enough to pepper smaller kisses over the corners of your mouth. “Two at once.”

Your lashes flutter. “No, but I want to.”

“Yeah?” Sukuna cuts in. Practically humping himself against your ass this whole time, his breath comes out shakier. “Dirty girl— gonna haft’a prep you first, then.”

You hardly get a word in before the thump behind you signals Sukuna’s dropped to his knees, your head turning to peer over your shoulder to watch as the massive man peels your waistband back and tugs your bottoms down until they pool at your ankles. 

Shifting your posture to let him spread your legs apart and arch forward, Toji lifts your gaze back to his. Keeping your attention on him as Sukuna pulls the cotton of your panties aside, your cheeks flushing hot when the loud shhhhlick! sounds as the fabric sticks to your pussyfolds. 

“Goddamn, she’s soaked,” Sukuna voices behind you, voice thick and warm with arousal. Groaning as his thumbs spread you open from behind, fanning his hot breath over your sensitive folds. Dragging in an audible sniiiiiifff so loud that it sounds almost animalistic. “Fuck, perfect goddamn pussy. Gotta have a taste.”

His mouth descends on you with an absolutely feral growl— the first drag of his wet tongue presses in, wagging side to side to smear between your pussylips and flick at your clit. Pulling back to prod along your entrance and push into your slit just enough to tease.

No wonder this place was popular, if this is the service that was given. Hardly even thinking of themselves when you stood between them, putting you first.

How many men had you been with that did that?

A big fat zero.

“Fuh-fuckk,” you moan into Toji’s mouth, rocking back against Sukuna’s face. Every flick and press catching the beads of arousal that seeped from your spread cunt. “Feels so good.”

Your hands travel over the firm space of Toji’s abdomen, slipping back beneath the edge of his waistband and tugging it down, forehead dropping to his sternum. He helps you pry his boxers down, pausing when you do.

Locking on the sight of his cock as he pulls it from its confines, your jaw drops. Easily seven or eight inches long, if not more, a few freckles scattered over the shaft. Two thin veins crawling up the shaft and disappearing beneath the bulbous head.

“Oh my god,” you blurt. Barely giving Toji a second to question what you meant before you’re reaching forward to take it in both hands and spitting onto it. 

Toji twitches at your sudden touch, one hand threading in your head. “Fuck, woman, slow down.”

Your thumb spreads the pre-cum leaking from the head over the shaft, pumping him with rapt attention, hardly registering his warning. Extending your arms to follow him when Toji takes a slight step back.

“Wanna—” he starts, cut off when you immediately bend further and spit a wad of saliva over the crown of him, hissing at the sudden warmth of your mouth as you take him in your throat. “Shit, doll–”

Toji’s hips snap up in an instinctual thrust, cock head slapping against the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex, grunting an apology as his hands gather your hair from your face. Sukuna pops from your cunt and groans, not even bothering to wipe your slick from where it coated the expanse of his lower face.

“Tight ass throat,” Toji rumbles, keeping your hair from your face as you bob up and down his cock. Circling his hips to smear himself ‘round and ‘round your throat. “Yeahh, just like that. Tha’ssit.”

Breathing through your nose, you dip forward, nose burying into the coarse hair at his base, the obscene gluck-gluck-gluck of your throat around Toji’s cock filling the room with Sukuna’s slurps. 

If the cafe was heaven, then this breakroom had to be the paradise beyond.

Sukuna’s thumbs ease back from spreading your pussylips to pop into his mouth, sucking your taste off them, then release them again to smear over your slick again and gather more, treating your arousal like creamy dessert.

Slipping the rounded edges of his fingertips between your folds and trailing over your slit, wetting his digits with you. “Gonna haft’a stretch you out a little bit so you can take both of us, okay?”

You hum around Toji’s cock, an answer that Sukuna takes without question. Pushing two thick fingers in and groaning when your pussy squelches at the intrusion before letting his digits in, pulsing as he pumps slowly. 

“Shit, y’hear that, Fushiguro?” Sukuna groans, claret eyes locked on your pussy. Twisting his fingers within you and working your cunt like an extension of himself. Curling his fingertips against your plush walls and pumping you on his hand like a puppet. “Even when her mouth’s full she’s still so damn vocal.”

Your throat squeezes around Toji’s cock, moans muffled as you rock back onto Sukuna’s knuckles.

“Mhmm, I hear her,” Toji mumbles, keeping his eyes on you rather than his colleague. “You must like us a whole lot, huh? Practically dripping just from a couple kisses and some head.”

Sure, you weren’t a virgin by any extent, but none of your exes had ever been so damn good at this. Much less having two guys taking care of you— this shit was practically a fantasy you thought could never happen.

Toji’s palm gently pats against your cheek, drawing your eyes up to him. “What, you can’t focus on both of us at the same time?”

Sukuna answers for you. “N’aw, she’s too busy gushing around my fingers like a little whore. Bet she’s never been fucked right before— haven’t you, brat?”

You can’t help but moan. Shake your head side to side, which pushes Toji’s cock further down your throat before he hisses and eases back, popping free from your lips with a lewd, wet smack.

“Bet not,” Toji replies. Both having a conversation in your stead where your words had obviously failed somewhere between Toji’s cock slapping against your cheek and Sukuna’s fingers twisting in your cunt. “Probably only fucked around with wimps before, poor girl.”

Sukuna’s echo coos behind you. “Poor girl.”

Thick knuckles prod at your folds as a third finger enters, curling and twisting right against your g-spot. Without warning, your body shivers, choking out a gasp at the last second before an orgasm washes over you.

Release splashes out onto Sukuna’s nose as he dives to lap at your cunt while his fingers work you through the waves, rolling his consonants over your clit until the vibrations twinge at your sensitive bud. 

Toji’s hand slips over yours on his cock, pulling you off of him to instead step back towards the edge of the table, barely sitting on the edge, his feet still planted on the floor. Long fingers wrapping around his shaft as he pumps himself, watching you watch him.

“You still want this, right?” he questions, gauging your reaction. The corners of his lips turn up when you nod, suddenly a little shy. Heat crawling up your cheekbones and the tips of your ears. “C’mere.”

Sukuna’s fingers slip free from your cunt, slurping your juices from his skin. “Of course she does,” his hand pats the plush of your ass, prodding you forward. “Go get ‘em, girl. Climb up.”

Urged forward, you halt in front of Toji, accepting the quick peck he gives you before finally climbing into Toji’s lap, your knees settle on either side of his thighs with his help, straddling him as he stands his cock beneath you, sliding it between your pussylips.

Your hands plant on his chest, palms splayed flat. “Hi.”

Toji chuckles. “Hi, pretty girl. Ready?”

“Mhmm.”

“Ah-ah,” Sukuna hums behind you, stepping up to press himself to your back again. Unzipping his own pants and pushing them down to use your slick as lube on his own cock. “She’s gotta say it out loud.”

Immediately, you’re following through with his condition. “Mmmhmmm. I’m ready for both.”

“Both?” Toji echoes, scarred lips splitting into a wide grin. The head of his cock just barely pushes at your slit, stretching your lips around him with a gentle burn. “Greedy, huh? Who would’ve thought.”

“I knew it from the beginning,” Sukuna chimes in. “Goody little two-shoes like her comes in here to ‘study,’ only to end up ogling all the muscles,” he tuts. “Dirty, dirty girl.”

Toji feeds the crown of his cock into you finally, bumping his hips up until you take the hint to let your thighs relax and slide yourself down his shaft, inner walls moulding around him. Your lips part, letting out a soft, shaky gasp as the spit and slick from Sukuna’s earlier attention eases the glide to an easy task.

“Fuck,” Toji curses, his hands coming to your thighs to keep you close, letting you rock yourself onto him until the burn softened. Trying to mask his own moan by talking. “I oughta keep you around, huh? Look at you, pretty eyes all glazed over already. You sure you can take both of us?”

Toji cuts you short the moment you open your mouth. Planting his feet into the floor and driving his hips up until you mewled and clenched around him, falling forward onto his chest. 

“O-ohhh fuck..”

Sukuna clicks his tongue. “He’s not that good,” he grumbles. “I could be better, baby. Let you learn what a real virile man feels like, eh?”

Toji snorts, more focused on you than his colleague. Fucking up into you at a proper pace now, rolling your hips into him with every upstroke until you were settling into a comfortable rhythm. 

Scarred lips pulling into a grin as he hums, “He’s just jealous— small dick and all that. Meathead has to use protein shakes, can’t stand that I’m all natural.”

“Tell that to the dick pump you jerk twice a goddamn day,” Sukuna grunts. One massive arm snakes under your thigh and yanks it high, hoisting you half off Toji’s lap in a single impatient motion. Sukuna’s thick cock immediately presses up in the space, sliding along the slick underside where Toji’s already splits you open. 

He nudges the bridge of his nose firmly against the shell of your ear, breath warm against sweat-clammy skin. “Are you sure you want us at the same time? It’ll be a stretch.”

“Mmmhm,” you affirm once more, softer this time. Their constant check-ins, as gruff-voiced as they were, settle something anxious in your chest. “I’m sure.”

“If you say so.”

The blunt crown of him wedges right against your already-strained entrance, pushing where Toji stretches you thin. He rocks forward in short, testing strokes, teeth gritting in focus until the head of him finally pops past the first ring of resistance. Their shafts slide and drag against each other, Toji slowing to a gentle rock just to keep your walls as lax as possible.

“Should’a stretched this little cunt more,” Sukuna mutters against your neck, rolling his hips forward again. The fat head finally pops past your tight ring of resistance, white-hot pain spearing through and immediately melting to pleasure when Toji’s thumb drops to your clit and rubs the nub comfortingly. “Shiiiit… there we go. Atta fuckin’ girl. Taking two cocks like a pro.”

Toji groans low in his throat, head falling back. Rutting himself deeper into you as if trying to compete to see who could reach the deepest. Imprinting himself into your walls and grinding his base against your pussylips. 

Scarred lips parting as Toji grunts, “Hold onto her.”

This time, Sukuna doesn’t argue. He simply slips his other arm beneath your thigh, hooking both elbows at the backs of your knees and lifting you until you’re squeezing around both of them to keep them inside, back pressed to his chest as he carries you.

A standing full nelson. 

The kind of position you could only dream of being in, only ever enjoying through the occasional smut you’d read late at night and fantasize about. Now made reality by not one but two of the finest men you’d ever had the pleasure of being sandwiched between.

Toji tilts his head forward to spit between your bodies, a thick rope of saliva landing hot between your pressed bodies. It drips slowly down the seam where you're stretched around them both, pooling at your entrance before he thumbs your swollen clit and works it in messy circles until your walls flutter and soften just enough that Sukuna can sink another inch deeper.

“Fuckin’ tight,” Sukuna hisses. Your inner muscles ripple involuntarily around the dual intrusion, and Toji’s cock twitches hard against his in response, the friction dragging a shared groan from both men.

Toji’s hand comes up to cradle your jaw, rough thumb brushing your lower lip as he looks at you. The calloused pad catches briefly on soft skin before he leans in, scarred lips dragging against yours as he kisses you. His tongue pushes past your lips, swirling without the intensity from earlier, distracting you while Sukuna’s thrusts grow deeper and deeper, the wet sounds filling the room.

You melt between them instantly, whimpering into Toji’s mouth, a soft ah!-ah!-ah! escaping as Toji rocks in time with Sukuna’s thrusts. Hands flying to hold onto something, landing on Toji’s biceps. Your fingers barely span half the thick circumference of his muscles, nails leaving pale crescents on his skin.

Sukuna’s laugh rumbles against your back. “Whipped already, Ji? Never seen you so soft.”

Toji pulls back with a wet schlick, lips and chin shining with spit. Jade eyes flicking up to meet mauve irises over your shoulder. “Try not to sound so jealous, Kuna. Ain’t a good look on you.”

Sukuna snorts. “Please, I’m the one puttin’ in the work here,” he punctuates it with a shallow thrust, dragging the crown of his cock along Toji’s cock and your walls, grinning when your head falls back against his shoulder. “Greedy fuckin’ girl knows who can stuff her best.”

“Bullshit,” Toji’s hips roll, dragging the fat head of his cock along the front wall of your cunt, right along the spot that makes your toes curl. Your whole body jerks, thighs trembling as a broken moan tears from you. 

“Fuuuck, please—”

“See?” Toji grins, smug. “She doesn’t beg when it’s you fuckin’ her.”

Sukuna grunts. “Cute. Real fuckin’ cute.”

Without warning, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt in a brutal stroke that sends your nails skittering over Toji’s chest for support, clawing his pectorals. The sudden force shoves you down onto both of them at the same time. 

“How about we ask her then?” Sukuna’s hips smack against your ass, driving back and forth without pause now. Arms tightening their hold on your thighs until he’s purposefully bouncing you up and down them. “Whaddya say, brat? Go on, tell Jiji here who’s fuckin’ this pussy right. Tell him.”

You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone words. Mewling shamelessly, “Kuna, ah-ah-ah!” 

Toji’s eyes narrow. “Wrong.”

He surges up, crashing his mouth against yours again. This kiss isn’t the sweet thing from earlier, but a mess of tongue, his hand prying your jaw open to spit directly into your open maw. 

“Toji, fuck—” you gasp, spittle smearing over your lips. 

Barely able to swallow the wad before Sukuna’s biting at your jaw, getting you to turn your head in surprise and catch your mouth with his. Both fight to kiss you at the same time, Toji on one side and Sukuna on the other. 

Teeth clacking and tongues swirling and circling each other as much as they kiss you. Caught between them, your walls cinch tight, gleefully helpless while they fight each other through you. 

Then it happens.

Toji’s tongue slips past yours at the same time Sukuna’s does, colliding in a hot, aggressive mash of forces. They don’t even blink at the change, fucking into you with reckless abandon while they make out with each other and you all at once.

Their cocks twitch inside you at the same moment, thickening even more as they grind against each other. The wet plap-plap-plap of Sukuna’s hips against yours while Toji’s pelvis grinds into your clit. Cockheads kissing deep enough that you swear you feel them bullying over your cervix walls with each skitter of sparks up your spine.

Your pussy clamps tight around them, breaking from the kiss as your head falls back against Sukuna’s shoulder, the knot in your lower belly drawing tight before snapping apart for your second orgasm of the night. Gushing around them in a slick flood, your release spattering against the two men.

Walls fluttering around them in aftershocks that don’t seem to have an end in sight.

“Fuck, yeah,” Toji groans against Sukuna’s mouth. Feet planting as he starts fucking up into you in earnest, deep strokes that make his heavy balls slap wetly against your soaked folds, drenched in your release.

Sukuna matches him instantly, brutal tempo syncing without a word. He slams in the exact moment Toji withdraws, ensuring there’s never a second where you’re not stuffed with one of them. The alternating rhythm turns savage fast—two cocks seesawing through your overstuffed heat, chasing their own edges.

Your head lolls, lips separated as involuntary moans escape you. Sukuna’s arms flex and shift, prying your trembling thighs even wider apart until the stretch borders on obscene, your pussy on full view for the other man. The new angle gives Toji access to thumb over your clit again, pressing and rolling it, then delivering sharp little slaps to the swollen, oversensitive pearl that make your body arch against Sukuna’s hold. 

“Fuh-fuck!” you gasp. Locking onto the filthy sight as both men crane to meet each other over your shoulder, reconnecting in a messy, open-mouthed kiss, spit stringing thick between their lips when they part again. “Oh my god, that’s so hot.”

You shove Toji’s hand side, replacing it with your own smaller fingers. Swirling slippery circles over your clit at the mere sight of them, wantonly moaning when Sukuna’s teeth bite into your shoulder to muffle his moan. 

Pre-cum swabs your insides as Toji’s hips stutter first, the rhythm stuttering as they near their peaks. One big hand clamps down on your hip, yanking you down onto him harder as he bounces you selfishly along his length, grinding deep. 

Toji’s lips find yours once more as you open your mouth to speak again, letting out the most sinful moan the second you reconnect. Whimpering rawly when his cock thickens and jerks hard, barely managing a single word before he’s pulling out and twisting his fist over the head. 

“Fuck- god, m’gonna cum,” he pants, pumping the shaft just below the crown as the first rope of milky cum erupts, splattering hot across your mound, your lower belly, even catching the underside of your breasts in a messy streak. “Shiiiit, look at you.”

Sukuna’s hips snap forward into you, rutting up with animalistic pacing, chasing the way your walls squeeze around him. “Kuna, please—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he grunts behind you, grip faltering as he adjusts his hold, straining to keep upright as his balls draw up tight and tingle. “Go ahead and let go for us, just one more time. I know you’ve got it in you.”

Your lower lip catches between your teeth as a third orgasm floods your heat, cunt barely dribbling slick around his cock. Barely coming down from the high as Sukuna grunts to maneuver your limp, trembling body to Toji’s waiting lap. 

His cock slips free with a wet pop, leaving you clenching around nothing through the aftershocks. Sukuna catches himself in his fist, stroking through the last erratic jerks as thick, clear ropes spill over his knuckles and drip to the floor in heavy splats against the cold tile.

“Fuuuuuck,” he drags out, groaning. Letting his head fall forward to rest onto your shoulder, the mop of pink-dyed hair sticking to your skin as his chest heaves in time with yours and Toji’s. “Goddamn, girl.”

Breathing heavy, the three of you bask in the humid afterglow, bodies pressed close as the sweat and cum starts to stick. Toji’s hands, much gentler now, slide up your sides, one cupping your chin to guide your face back up to his.

He mumbles something slurred and soft against your lips, half-words lost in the lazy drag of his mouth as he kisses you again. Humming into each other, eyes fluttering shut to just enjoy the contact.

Only to break apart again as the breakroom door rattles and clicks open, the lock from earlier apparently non-functional as the white-haired cashier from earlier steps inside without looking up from his phone. “I’m going on my break, one of you need to actually work and take over the front—”

Satoru’s impossibly blue eyes lift up to take in the sight, immediately widening as both men tighten their arms around you.

Pupils blowing wide and pale lips splitting into a pervish grin. “Well, damn. Got room for one more?”

“What a loser,” Sukuna grumbles as he re-enters, rubbing his reddening knuckles and surveying the damage to the front door. Biceps flexing in the stretched-thin cotton as he lifted up the frame and started trying to fruitlessly fix the damage he’d caused.

“What the fuck are you—”

“Got out on good behavior,” your soon-to-be ex-husband cuts you off, glancing sidelong at you in something almost like an apology for doing so. Finally giving up on fixing the door right then and propping it up against the front of the house and coming inside, making sure to wipe his boots at the door and shuck them off, nudging it closed softly rather than the usual thump and clatter. “Gonna cook dinner. What are you in the mood for?”

“Are you serious?” you huff, swivelling on the ball of your foot to stomp towards the phone, the baseball bat tucked beneath the sofa, anything to send him packing. “I want you out of this house. I can’t believe you think you can just waltz back in here and throw him out like that, you must be out of your fucking mind—”

Before you can reach either option, he’s behind you in a single step, thick arms looping around your waist and bringing you back until you’re flush to his chest, Sukuna’s entire body bends over yours, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. The heat of his body envelops yours, so familiar that you can’t help but find yourself almost leaning back into him, heart craving the touch of your other half even as your mind reminds you of all his wrongdoings.

“I said I was sorry, woman,” he mumbles against you, his strong, sturdy nose gliding along the curve of your shoulder to your neck, brushing all the way up to gently nibble the shell of your ear. 

You scoff. “No, you didn’t.”

“No? Hm. Could’ve sworn I did,” Sukuna frowns, that handsome set of full lips brushing kisses to your hair. He hums in thought. “Ah, I know- maybe it was the shock of seeing my darling girl letting some white-haired wimp in our home.”

He slips a hand from your hip, tracing the soft curve of your waist and following it past your navel, four large, thick fingers spreading to cup your mound. Under different circumstances, you might’ve argued a little longer, but… well. 

Of all the flaws Sukuna had, you knew he certainly didn’t have any issues making up for them tenfold with the amount of pleasure he could give you.

“Letting him touch her…”

Sukuna’s fingers push beneath the hem of your dress. Teasing the lace you’d worn for your date, he grunts in displeasure at the idea that you’d even wear it to begin with for another man, prying it aside and smearing his thumpad in rough, firm circles over your clit.

It was almost embarrassing how soaked you were already. Strings of webby slick dripping onto his skin as his other fingers inch lower, spreading and teasing your wet folds just to pat a couple harsh slaps to your fluttering hole. A shiver of pleasure rolls up your spine, knees weak and trembling just from the contact, held up just by Sukuna’s bulky arm beneath your midsection while he continues to rub and flick your clit.

Lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice roughens, warm breath coming out in soft puffs that tickle the sensitive skin. “Did he fuck my wife, too?”

Your pussy clenches shamefully, but you still dig your heels in for a little longer. It was the least you could do to get back at him for all the stress he’d put you through. “That was the plan for tonight.”

“Tch.”

Before you can even think to question what that meant, he’s pushing you forward and bending you over the back of the sofa, one palm pressing against your back while the other works on his belt. Snapping open the metal clasp and tugging the leather strip from the beltloops just to toss it aside, letting it clatter to the floor uselessly.

“You should’ve called me,” Sukuna grumbles, his hips rocking forward against your ass, the very prominent bulge in his jeans grinding between the plush of your thighs, the cold zipper sending a wave of chills through your swollen folds and up your spine. 

“Kid looked like a two-pump chump,” he adds on jealously. “He wouldn’t have been able to take care of you.”

Your hands bunch the couch pillows, rocking back against him now despite every rational thought telling you not to. What would your attorney think, seeing you back with the man you’d sworn off so little months ago?

“Mmmh. Not like you could do any better from the jailhouse.”

Sukuna scoffs. “What do you think I was doing while I was locked up, woman?”

“Clearly not learning any lessons,” you retort just as quickly.

His fat fingers slap down on your puffy cunt again, earning another spasm of your body as a gush of syrupy slick leaves your slit. “Don’t smart mouth me.”

You shiver, giving into his conversation demands. “Fine. What were you doing?”

He leans back just long enough to unzip his jeans and push them down, one fist wrapping around his base and tugging on the shaft a few times before finally lining himself up to your velvet entrance. Rubbing along your slit and between your folds, pushing just past the first ring of resistance and stretching you open around a size you’d once been able to accommodate with ease.

Distance certainly made something fonder.

“Thinking about you,” your ex-husband murmurs behind you, slowly pushing in still. Taking his sweet time filling you back out again and letting you acclimate to his sheer size. “Of all the mistakes I’d made, and h-how- ohh..”

“Did you just stutter?” you blurt in surprise, trying to lift yourself up a little and peek over your shoulder, just to have your head pushed right back into the couch. Only getting the slightest peek at how Sukuna’s cheeks and ears were dusted with a bright red that rivalled the pinkest hues of his hair. “Oh- oh.”

Lightning scatters across your body as he finally shoves forward and glides his cock home with a wet schhhlick sound, his thick fingers pinching and playing with your clit to ease the overwhelming burn. Grinding the fat head of his cock up against your innermost walls, he gives you a few seconds to adjust, grunting when you tighten up on him instead.

“Five months, three weeks, and six days,” Sukuna recounts in a huff. “That’s how long I sat in  that rusted ol’ cell. Couldn’t think straight, couldn’t live without you. And here you are, letting some other man come into our home and think he has a chance with my wife.”

His thumb presses on your swollen pearl and swirls. “Did you really think he’d be able to take care of you the way I did?”

“Nngh- no.”

“Thought not.”

You barely choke out a moan before he pulls back and shoves forward again, immediately setting a rhythm you have no hopes of following. Adjusting his hands to grip on either side of your hips and bouncing you up and down his length, his body folding forward until his chest pressed down on your back.

“Would he handle all your bitch-fits?” Sukuna pants into your ear, voice all husky and rough at the edges. “Let you crawl all over him afterwards like an animal in heat?”

“M-maybe,” you huff. Reaching over your shoulder just to grab a handful of his hair and tug, earning a loud groan from your other half. “Should call him back and ask him.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Hah.. funny. You’ve got jokes now, huh?”

“Had a lot of time to practice,” you retort, the thin thread holding your sanity together already starting to fray under his mean, steady strokes. “What was it again? Five months, three weeks, and…?”

“Six days,” he grunts.

“Right.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Sukuna’s lips plant messy kisses along your shoulder, hips picking up the pace as your walls constrict around him. Spreading his fingers between your folds and swirling his callused fingerpads in rough patterns over your needy clit to drive you to the edge. “I’ll do better.”

You moan into the couch cushion as he fucks you right over the precipice, every thrust punching the air from your lungs. His heavy balls smack against your clit as you squeeze around him, gushing out a wave of release that slicks over his thick cock and drips onto the floor beneath you.

Sukuna’s hand lifts from your hip to grab your hand, twisting his own until your fingers are intertwined with his. Wrapping himself around you tight as his hips stutter and broken rasps of your name escape his lips, thrusts turning sloppy as spurts of cum flood your cunt and paint your inner walls milky white.

“Please,” Sukuna pleads, almost whining as his hips stir the mess around, refusing to pull out yet. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow rubbing up against your cheek as he turns your face to look at him, dark eyes molten with an honest, unabashed adoration. “Give me one more chance.”

You twist in his arms, the angle clumsy and awkward, just to meet him for a quick peck that deepened quickly, pulling back out of breath and licking his spit off your lips.

“One more,” you concede with a sigh, watching as his entire demeanor lit up. “If you fuck up again, you’re gone for good, Ryomen. I’m serious this time.”

“Mmh. I won’t. Promise.”

“What a loser,” Sukuna grumbles as he re-enters, rubbing his reddening knuckles and surveying the damage to the front door. Biceps flexing in the stretched-thin cotton as he lifted up the frame and started trying to fruitlessly fix the damage he’d caused.

“What the fuck are you—”

“Got out on good behavior,” your soon-to-be ex-husband cuts you off, glancing sidelong at you in something almost like an apology for doing so. Finally giving up on fixing the door right then and propping it up against the front of the house and coming inside, making sure to wipe his boots at the door and shuck them off, nudging it closed softly rather than the usual thump and clatter. “Gonna cook dinner. What are you in the mood for?”

“Are you serious?” you huff, swivelling on the ball of your foot to stomp towards the phone, the baseball bat tucked beneath the sofa, anything to send him packing. “I want you out of this house. I can’t believe you think you can just waltz back in here and throw him out like that, you must be out of your fucking mind—”

Before you can reach either option, he’s behind you in a single step, thick arms looping around your waist and bringing you back until you’re flush to his chest, Sukuna’s entire body bends over yours, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. The heat of his body envelops yours, so familiar that you can’t help but find yourself almost leaning back into him, heart craving the touch of your other half even as your mind reminds you of all his wrongdoings.

“I said I was sorry, woman,” he mumbles against you, his strong, sturdy nose gliding along the curve of your shoulder to your neck, brushing all the way up to gently nibble the shell of your ear. 

You scoff. “No, you didn’t.”

“No? Hm. Could’ve sworn I did,” Sukuna frowns, that handsome set of full lips brushing kisses to your hair. He hums in thought. “Ah, I know- maybe it was the shock of seeing my darling girl letting some white-haired wimp in our home.”

He slips a hand from your hip, tracing the soft curve of your waist and following it past your navel, four large, thick fingers spreading to cup your mound. Under different circumstances, you might’ve argued a little longer, but… well. 

Of all the flaws Sukuna had, you knew he certainly didn’t have any issues making up for them tenfold with the amount of pleasure he could give you.

“Letting him touch her…”

Sukuna’s fingers push beneath the hem of your dress. Teasing the lace you’d worn for your date, he grunts in displeasure at the idea that you’d even wear it to begin with for another man, prying it aside and smearing his thumpad in rough, firm circles over your clit.

It was almost embarrassing how soaked you were already. Strings of webby slick dripping onto his skin as his other fingers inch lower, spreading and teasing your wet folds just to pat a couple harsh slaps to your fluttering hole. A shiver of pleasure rolls up your spine, knees weak and trembling just from the contact, held up just by Sukuna’s bulky arm beneath your midsection while he continues to rub and flick your clit.

Lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice roughens, warm breath coming out in soft puffs that tickle the sensitive skin. “Did he fuck my wife, too?”

Your pussy clenches shamefully, but you still dig your heels in for a little longer. It was the least you could do to get back at him for all the stress he’d put you through. “That was the plan for tonight.”

“Tch.”

Before you can even think to question what that meant, he’s pushing you forward and bending you over the back of the sofa, one palm pressing against your back while the other works on his belt. Snapping open the metal clasp and tugging the leather strip from the beltloops just to toss it aside, letting it clatter to the floor uselessly.

“You should’ve called me,” Sukuna grumbles, his hips rocking forward against your ass, the very prominent bulge in his jeans grinding between the plush of your thighs, the cold zipper sending a wave of chills through your swollen folds and up your spine. 

“Kid looked like a two-pump chump,” he adds on jealously. “He wouldn’t have been able to take care of you.”

Your hands bunch the couch pillows, rocking back against him now despite every rational thought telling you not to. What would your attorney think, seeing you back with the man you’d sworn off so little months ago?

“Mmmh. Not like you could do any better from the jailhouse.”

Sukuna scoffs. “What do you think I was doing while I was locked up, woman?”

“Clearly not learning any lessons,” you retort just as quickly.

His fat fingers slap down on your puffy cunt again, earning another spasm of your body as a gush of syrupy slick leaves your slit. “Don’t smart mouth me.”

You shiver, giving into his conversation demands. “Fine. What were you doing?”

He leans back just long enough to unzip his jeans and push them down, one fist wrapping around his base and tugging on the shaft a few times before finally lining himself up to your velvet entrance. Rubbing along your slit and between your folds, pushing just past the first ring of resistance and stretching you open around a size you’d once been able to accommodate with ease.

Distance certainly made something fonder.

“Thinking about you,” your ex-husband murmurs behind you, slowly pushing in still. Taking his sweet time filling you back out again and letting you acclimate to his sheer size. “Of all the mistakes I’d made, and h-how- ohh..”

“Did you just stutter?” you blurt in surprise, trying to lift yourself up a little and peek over your shoulder, just to have your head pushed right back into the couch. Only getting the slightest peek at how Sukuna’s cheeks and ears were dusted with a bright red that rivalled the pinkest hues of his hair. “Oh- oh.”

Lightning scatters across your body as he finally shoves forward and glides his cock home with a wet schhhlick sound, his thick fingers pinching and playing with your clit to ease the overwhelming burn. Grinding the fat head of his cock up against your innermost walls, he gives you a few seconds to adjust, grunting when you tighten up on him instead.

“Five months, three weeks, and six days,” Sukuna recounts in a huff. “That’s how long I sat in  that rusted ol’ cell. Couldn’t think straight, couldn’t live without you. And here you are, letting some other man come into our home and think he has a chance with my wife.”

His thumb presses on your swollen pearl and swirls. “Did you really think he’d be able to take care of you the way I did?”

“Nngh- no.”

“Thought not.”

You barely choke out a moan before he pulls back and shoves forward again, immediately setting a rhythm you have no hopes of following. Adjusting his hands to grip on either side of your hips and bouncing you up and down his length, his body folding forward until his chest pressed down on your back.

“Would he handle all your bitch-fits?” Sukuna pants into your ear, voice all husky and rough at the edges. “Let you crawl all over him afterwards like an animal in heat?”

“M-maybe,” you huff. Reaching over your shoulder just to grab a handful of his hair and tug, earning a loud groan from your other half. “Should call him back and ask him.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Hah.. funny. You’ve got jokes now, huh?”

“Had a lot of time to practice,” you retort, the thin thread holding your sanity together already starting to fray under his mean, steady strokes. “What was it again? Five months, three weeks, and…?”

“Six days,” he grunts.

“Right.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Sukuna’s lips plant messy kisses along your shoulder, hips picking up the pace as your walls constrict around him. Spreading his fingers between your folds and swirling his callused fingerpads in rough patterns over your needy clit to drive you to the edge. “I’ll do better.”

You moan into the couch cushion as he fucks you right over the precipice, every thrust punching the air from your lungs. His heavy balls smack against your clit as you squeeze around him, gushing out a wave of release that slicks over his thick cock and drips onto the floor beneath you.

Sukuna’s hand lifts from your hip to grab your hand, twisting his own until your fingers are intertwined with his. Wrapping himself around you tight as his hips stutter and broken rasps of your name escape his lips, thrusts turning sloppy as spurts of cum flood your cunt and paint your inner walls milky white.

“Please,” Sukuna pleads, almost whining as his hips stir the mess around, refusing to pull out yet. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow rubbing up against your cheek as he turns your face to look at him, dark eyes molten with an honest, unabashed adoration. “Give me one more chance.”

You twist in his arms, the angle clumsy and awkward, just to meet him for a quick peck that deepened quickly, pulling back out of breath and licking his spit off your lips.

“One more,” you concede with a sigh, watching as his entire demeanor lit up. “If you fuck up again, you’re gone for good, Ryomen. I’m serious this time.”

“Mmh. I won’t. Promise.”