angelita

ah.

there it was.

that strange melancholy that sometimes surfaced when you drank too much.

sukuna knew it was not insecurity even if he didn’t understand further, it still intrigued him how much it mattered for the human race, to be remembered.

“the names of emperors are remembered,” you continued softly, “warriors, clan heads, men who shape eras”

crickets chirped and a low wind carried the scent of jasmines planted at your request, across the foyer.

“but the women beside them become footnotes at best, most of them don’t even make it to the scroll”

sukuna rested one arm across his knee, keen on voicing his opinion, “you care too much about history”

“i think history reveals what people consider valuable”

your voice remained stoic, thoughtful.

“no one writes about the woman who sat beside the monster,” you murmured, “only the monster himself”

a pause.

then sukuna turned his head slowly toward you, amusement flickering across his face.

“so i am a monster to you?”

you blinked at him.

“well objectively”

the silence afterward lasted exactly one second before sukuna barked out a laugh, “and yet you still sit beside me”

“that’s because I’ve already accepted i have questionable judgment” you wave your glass in the air dismissively, “stop changing the topic, kuna” you scolded him.

the term, his name so lovingly shortened rolled of your tongue with such ease and no honorific, only dismissible due to your drunken state.

or maybe always.

sukuna chose not to comment on it, settling for a humble,

“hm.”

“in the grand scheme of things, what am i? if not just a speck in your life” he opened his mouth ready to retort when you held up a hand, silencing him.

how did you not see your own importance? who else could command the king of curses in such a way?

“but to me, this is everything. this is all i have and it makes it all the more precious..that it all just ends one day” you giggle a bit, melancholics a right of passage in this state.

“alas, forgotten” you rest your cheek on your knee wistfully looking up at sukuna ready for him to speak.

but he’s silent, woeful and utterly silent.

could it be that you’d gone too far? the haze from the sake wasn’t helping clearly you had misjudged, to get out of such a situation deemed to be a deplorable task even for the likes of you.

“forget i said that,” you mumble, a weak laugh caught in your throat, “the sake is making me sentimental”

“humans,” sukuna says quietly, “speak of being forgotten because your lives are too short to endure insignificance”

his voice is absent of mockery.

“you fear death less than you fear leaving no mark behind”

your brows knit slightly, you hadn’t expected him to understand at all.

he watches the lantern flame instead of you now.

“but i have lived long enough to know memory is not mercy” you watch the wind ruffle his peculiar crimson tinted hair as he speaks,

“entire eras rot inside me: names, faces, wars, prayers” his expression hardens faintly “none of them matter, time erodes all things evenly.”

for a moment, he looks exhausted by his own immortality. you had not expected that at all.

you swallow.

“then what’s the point?” you ask softly.

his eyes flick back to yours.

and for the first time that night, sukuna looks almost caught off guard by the answer forming within himself.

“there is none,” he says. “not in the grand scheme you speak of” he lightens his tone mocking the pitch of your voice and you smile faintly.

his gaze lowers briefly to your slumped posture, your tired eyes, the warmth of your knee brushing his side without fear.

“but meaning was never something inherent.”

a pause.

“it is assigned”

you feel the weight of the statement as sukuna leans back slightly, like the admission itself irritates him.

“do you think i would sit here entertaining drunken philosophy for just anyone?” there’s no softness in his tone. if anything, it’s sharp, defensive.

he’s offended by the importance of you in his life which makes it all the more devastating.

one day, when you passed on forgotten or not, he would remain and he would remember. you hadn’t thought about it like that, you had thought only for yourself, the realization was jarring.

“centuries pass like weather to me,” he murmurs. “yet i know the sound of your footsteps apart from others. i know when your silence means anger and when it means sorrow. i know when your kisses are thoughtless things, and when they linger like a final act.”

his jaw tightens subtly.

“so if all existence amounts to dust eventually..” his eyes narrow at you, almost accusingly, “then explain why you alone remain.”

“I’ve already had her four times,” Sukuna grunted, “the brats insatiable.”

Toji snorted mid sip of water, eyes leaving the couch to instead peer through the half opened doorway to the bedroom, where he managed to catch only a glimpse of your bare leg through the crack. From the looks of it you were naked - splayed over the sheets, hair probably still a little damp from the shower, skin lacquered with lotion, half washed away with sweat by now.

“What, she ovulating or something?” Toji wondered aloud, lowering the bottle to once again catch Sukuna’s gaze over the metal rim.

The other man crossed his arms unceremoniously across his chest, and Toji watched the tendons jump in the winding muscle of his forearms as he shrugged.

“That or she’s in heat, damn near milked me dry.” He grumbled, brows knitted, working a mean line between them. If you were here you’d reprimand him for such an expression, crawl over the couch and run your thumb between his salmon brows until the lines wore smooth, or until Sukuna grew bored and wrapped a hand around your wrist to flip you onto the cushions instead.

Toji laughed then, the sound rough and graveled like tattered velvet.

“Seriously?” He scoffed, lips spread into a sly grin as he licked stray droplets from them, “had to tap out did ya’ Ryomen?”

Sukuna’s scowl only deepened, soured now with genuine irritation.

“Just be grateful I wore her out for you,” he spat, “and watch your tone, or it’ll be you spread eagle and whining for more cock next, Fushiguro.”

Toji chuckled again as he screwed the lid of his bottle on tight, the motion accented with a metallic ‘squeak!’ before he tossed it toward Sukuna, hard enough that he heard the fleshy impact when the other man’s hand shot out to catch it.

“Yeah yeah,” he mused, moving past the couch to instead push through the bedroom door, which creaked beneath the effort, “drink some fuckin’ water and get outta my way.”

If he were being honest, when he’d left for the gym that morning he’d been hoping for this exact scenario. Toji knew you - or at least your cycle - well enough to know that you’d wake up needy and leaking, and he knew Sukuna well enough to know he wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of you humping his thigh like a dog in heat for very long. So he’d left without a word just as the sun kissed the horizon, and he’d been half hard in his sweats since his second rep just thinking about it.

If the living room was warm, the air within the bedroom was stifling. But it wasn’t the heat or the sticky sweet scent that knocked the air from Toji’s lungs on entry, no. It was the sight of you - limbs splayed over the mattress, hair messed and wild where your head was tucked between the pillows. Your jaw lifted back far enough to expose the long column of your throat, giving Toji a stellar view of the dark sucking marks peppered there, indents of teeth that he was sure would melt into bruises by the evening.

Toji took in the sight indulgently - paused in the doorway, a lone hand already trailing its way down the curve of his stomach, teasing until his fingers curled over the bulge forming there. He squeezed once and shivered, reveling in the immediate relief that sizzled over his body like a splash of ice water.

He could feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze piercing into the back of his skull like the promise of a snipers sight. He didn’t indulge the urge to peer over his shoulder and meet that heated gaze, instead he let his hand drop to his side and pressed a knee into the mattress.

You didn’t move, didn’t speak or even open your eyes when he crawled over the sheets, crowding your space like a panther sliding atop its snagged prey.

His hand met the curve of your waist, skin soft and warm beneath his palm, layer of sweat sticking you lightly to him. He trailed one hand downward over the curve of your belly, the other grazed feather-soft over the slopes of your breasts, pausing to pinch gently at either nipple, perked and willing in his hands.

“You’re soaked sweetheart,” he mused when his fingers finally dipped between your thighs, which gave way to him easily, spreading to make room for his forearm to slot between. He moved slowly, palming soft and teasing over your mound and listening to you mumble mindlessly below him.

You whined something unintelligible in reply, voice nothing but a high pitched whimper, crackled like shattered glass.

With a chuckle, he leaned down and craned his head until his ear rested level with your mouth.

“What’s that sweetheart?” He questioned, head tilted to listen.

You swallowed, hard and dry, and licked your lips before you spoke again. Another croaked string of words hit his ear, a touch clearer this time. He realized then that you weren’t mumbling gibberish at all, you were begging.

“More, more, need more, please ‘kuna, please jus’ one more…”

Toji chuckled and lifted his head back to study you again - he found your eyes still closed, brows now knitted into an expression that was decidedly desperate.

“Old Ryo’ couldn’t keep up, huh?” He mused, hands lifted from your body to instead press into the mattress either side of your head, leveraging the weight of him as he slotted himself properly between your thighs.

You offered a gentle huff in reply, eyelids feeling much to heavy to bother opening. Your limbs felt numb, tingling with residual little sizzles of pleasure.

“Don’t worry doll, ‘m here now.”

Toji didn’t waste time working you open or teasing you with the brush of his lips or gentle caresses, no. He simply slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it sideways. His thumb hooked over his waistband, tugged down to let his length spring free and slap hard and raw against you.

The sensation was enough to have his lips parting around a shuddered breath. You felt like heaven - like slick molten silk kissing each bumped ridge as he rutted through your swollen folds. You jolted when he shifted, hard inches rubbing over your clit, still singing with over stimulation.

He grinned and lowered a thumb to pet at your entrance, leaking slick and dribbles of what he was sure was Sukuna’s spend. He traced your rim beneath the head of his cock slowly, smearing the milky little pearls gathered there and wondering just how many loads Sukuna had managed to stuff inside you before he’d finally tapped out. The thought made his breath catch, and sent another sizzle of heat straight to his throbbing cock.

“C’mon, look at me now,” Toji cooed, watching the way any semblance of coherency on your face melted away when he finally pressed down, sinking inside with a single dizzying press of his hips - testament to just how soaked and used you really were.

It was enough to make your eyes roll behind your lids, fluttering with the delicious sting of being stretched open again. Toji treated you with shallow little thrusts. The hair at his base tickling your clit, thick veins pulsing against your rubbed raw walls where Sukuna had pounded you until you cried, until you bruised. And yet despite the pain, the ache - that needling little bud of desire still burned just as hotly as when you’d first awoken that day, stoking the fire in your belly and dribbling lava hot between your aching thighs.

“Oh, oh…” you moaned dumbly, lashes twitching as you finally lifted them and tried to blink away the layer of hazy film that had settled there. Your mind felt fuzzy, vacant. Drunk on the sensation of being stuffed utterly full once again.

“There she is,” Toji soothed.

“‘Ji, it’s you…” came your delayed greeting, nothing more than a breathy whine, “need’t cum, need to cum again, please…”

“Again?” Toji echoed in faux surprise, hips lowing to a torturous roll, “that’s a little greedy of you, don’t you think?”

“Incredibly greedy,” a distant voice interrupted, flat and deep and utterly serious.

Toji tilted his head back just enough to catch sight of Sukuna’s broad form filling the doorway, looking more like the hired security than someone who actually lived there. Toji peered through strands of ink black hair at the big hand that was beginning to dip beneath the waistband of Sukuna’s sweats, palming lazily at the considerable bulge there. Sukuna’s gaze was equally heavy and heated, lowered past the curve of Toji’s spine to track the way your hole was stretching around his thickness.

Toji swallowed, took a final glance at the sight of Sukuna beginning to work his length free from his boxers. His eyes stuck on the exposed slip of tan skin where Sukuna had tugged his shirt upward, the spatter of hair dusted there, before he turned his attention back to you.

“Haven’t even asked how my day was yet, and here you are begging me to make this needy pussy cum,” Toji teased, “and after Ryo’ took such good care of you too.”

“Please,” you cried, shaking your head furiously against the damp pillows crumpled either side of you, “please don’t tease me.”

“Aw I’m sorry sweetheart,” Toji cooed, voice dripping thick with mock concern, “you just need it real bad, huh?”

The delicate shallow thrusts he had been nursing you with suddenly shifted, turned to long pulls smacked back inside hard enough that you felt the tip of him kiss somewhere deep and delicate. Each buck had your legs quivering, and a sharp little shock of pain and pleasure in equal measure sizzling over your skin.

You were lucid enough only to know that he was moving, slow methodical thrusts that felt achingly tender. Each twitch of his worked muscle was purposeful, each motion entirely controlled and aimed to break you apart.

“Shh, just feel it. You feel me, right baby? Nice ‘n deep.” The words were sin incarnate, purred right into your ear.

You were nodding before you could think, slurring a string of unintelligible words alongside breathy cries of his name, strung together like a prayer.

“Deep… deeper…”

The scent of him was intoxicating, dizzying. The sharp sting of fresh sweat and his own familiar woody musk was enough to have you lifting your trembling legs just to hook a heel over his hip and tug him closer.

“Finally knocked all the brains outta you, huh?” Toji teased, “That’s alright, don’t need to think. Just keep squeezin’ this pretty little pussy around me, yeah?”

One of your hands fled the sheets to instead grasp at one of Toji’s bare shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there.

“Kiss me,” you panted, blinking up at him with wide wet eyes, blown black and glossy with need, “oh, hng-… please Toji…”

Toji didn’t bother with a reply, instead he simply dipped his head and captured your lips in a kiss so sudden you barely had the wherewithal to suck in a lungful of air before he was swiping any lingering thoughts away with the hot slide of his tongue.

You melted into the touch, letting the roll of his jaw guide your movements - moaning in surprise when his teeth nipped at your cracked lower lip, your grip on his shoulder tightening when his tongue met yours.

When you finally split apart you were sufficiently softened by the blend of his sweet kisses and the steady rock of his hips, brain humming quietly like the static of a tv set to a dead channel.

“Good?” Toji questioned, head tilting.

You just nodded, struggling to keep you gaze affixed on the inky strands of hair slipping over Toji’s forehead, that was until a sudden blur of colour crept into the edge of your vision.

“Oi, what are you?-…”

You watched, motion a little delayed, as Sukuna’s hand slid across the back of Toji’s neck. Toji’s eyes widened an inch, looking genuinely shocked for just a moment before Sukuna’s grip tightened, firm hand forcing his head upward until they finally met in a rough crashing of lips.

Peering up you simply watched, entranced, at the slide of pink tongue between sticky sweet flutters of your lashes. Eyes caught on the way Toji’s brows lifted and his hips stuttered just a little when Sukuna’s hand tightened into a fist at his nape, strands of silky black hair sticking wayward through his thick fingers.

Toji grunted into the kiss, rougher now - a tumble of teeth and tongue in stark contrast to the slow rhythm of the embrace you had shared. One of Toji’s hands curled over your hip, thumb mindlessly tracing the bone there. The other found Sukuna’s chest, grasping a handful of fabric before he was shoving the other man backwards.

You watched a glittering thread of spit link them for a moment before it split, and you must have clenched at the obscene sight because Toji made a choked sound above you, falling into the sensation a little like he were suddenly made of jelly.

“Fuck sweetheart,” he panted, lips glossed as he dug a fist into the mattress beside your head, “that’s it, just like that.”

His thrusts didn’t slow or soften, but they felt sloppier somehow, and when you blinked upward you realized why. Sukuna had stepped in behind Toji, plump chest pressed to his back, massive hand still curled around his nape, thumb rubbing soothing little shapes there. His head turned inward, lips pressed to the delicate little strip behind Toji’s ear, breathing so close you could see the speckle of goosebumps begin to prickle over Toji’s skin.

“C’mon Fushiguro,” Sukuna purred, quiet enough that you could barely hear the sweet syrupy words, “don’t get soft on me now.”

Dazed, you watched Sukuna raise a spare hand to his lips, thumb pressed against tongue beneath the glint of pearly canines before he reached past Toji’s hips and tucked it between your thighs. You jerked at the sudden contact, the searing heat of his slick thumb, calloused and rough and perfect against your abused clit.

“Bastard…” Toji gritted, breaths coming ragged now, panting between barely masked grunts of pleasure as his head dipped beneath the weight of the palm at his nape. His gaze was glassy, glued to where you were clamping around him, where your slick was painting the dark curls at his belly white.

Sukuna only grinned in reply, and you could hear the lazy glee lacing his tone with his next words, thumb still rolling over your twitching nub as you writhed beneath his touch.

“Go on now,” he rumbled, low and filthy over the shell of Toji’s ear, and you swore you felt Toji twitch in response. “make the pretty girl cum.”

You could feel it, the looming buzz of your orgasm, curling like the crest of a wave, hot and tight in your belly like the slow cinching of a knot.

“Close ‘ji…’m close,” you slurred, “gonna… hn!- ‘m gonna…”

“I’m right here sweetheart,” Toji was groaning now, shivering a little as the hand at his nape tightened once more. His thrusts were wild - wide sloppy pumps driven haphazardly into the slick mess between your thighs. Sukuna’s thumb continued its assault, drawing steady heart shapes over your clit, right above where Toji was busy splitting you open.

“C’mon princess,” Toji pleaded, words accented with a kicking throb that you felt all the way in your gut, “give it to me.”

You let your eyelids fall shut, squeezed tightly against the way your vision was beginning to blur at the edges. Senses dulled, sounds and scents becoming more and more distant with each second of rising pleasure until suddenly the knot snapped, and you were unraveling along with it.

Toji cursed somewhere beyond the numbed blackness of your senses, and alongside it you felt a flood of heat and the familiar twitching pulse of him as he filled you. Firm hands gripped your waist like an anchor, holding you in place as you squirmed against his final stuttered humps, wracked with unending wave after wave of white hot pleasure.

“Shh, that’s it, that’s a good girl…” Toji was cooing into your ear, forehead pressed to the pillow, only hair tickling your cheek.

The words were a salve, a balm smoothed over your mind until all that was left was the honeyed buzz of pleasure.

You sucked in a shaky breath and realized along with it that you were crying, cheeks soaked and salted with fresh tears. You let your limbs fall, limp and exhausted against the sheets. A subtle ache was beginning to settle in your muscles, in your bones, and yet beneath it all you still felt it - that itch deep inside, like an unending, desirous pit.

“More…” you croaked, voice utterly broken despite your pleading.

Toji scoffed somewhere above you - sounding equal parts shocked and proud at your incessant appetite. You heard the distant thump of approaching footfalls, followed by the telltale creak of a knee digging into the mattress before the bed was dipping beneath a considerable weight, and you felt Toji slip out with a slick sucking sound.

“Move Fushiguro, think I just got my second wind.”

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