𝓗𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓸𝓢𝓲𝓭𝓷𝓮𝔂♡

he blushes pink at the thought. your words are enough to relight the fire licking at his groin. he watches you for a moment; tries to discern whether or not you're only saying what might please him, but ultimately nods.

you don't throat him immediately, though. instead, you duck your head down and press a few messy kisses to his balls. his hips twitch upwards at the contact, his breath hitching in his lungs. you smile, dart your tongue out to lick at the source of his hesitation.

"god, that's dirty," he groans. "you like this?"

"i like you," you hum, mouthing at his balls with spit-covered lips. you're making a mess of him, though that only gives you an excuse to suggest showering together later. "like your balls too."

"i... shit, i see that."

he's so sensitive, knitting his brows together as you suck and lick and kiss his balls with a feverish sort of worship you didn't know you had in you. his cock rests against your face, throbbing as it hardens even more. he could cum like this.

but you aren't quite done with him.

when you pull back to take his cock back into your warm mouth, all the way down to the base, kento swears he must've been a saint in his previous life to deserve such pleasures in this one. you trace the vein that tracks the underside of his length with your tongue, and then hollow your cheeks out to suck.

he cums all too-quick and with a loud and uncharacteristically whiney moan that makes you wonder how he'd sound tied up and begging. it feels almost wasteful to take his load anywhere other than deep inside of you, but you're sure you'll have plenty of opportunities for that in the near future.

he tastes good. salty. you want to keep sucking, see if you can milk him for more, but he's already overstimulated and panicking a little at the sensation he's feeling. although you think he likes it, you know it'll be too much for his first time. you pull off, careful to spill as little of his release as possible, and sit back on your heels.

and kento is a mess. his lips part as he watches yours pull into a greedy smile. he's eager to watch you spit it out, perhaps just to see the visual reminder that he came in your mouth. but you meet his eyes, let him sit on your tongue a moment longer, and then swallow.

oh. he wonders how he'll ever lead a normal life again after a sight like that. his mouth is dry, cock still wet with your spit, heart beating out of his chest...

still, he manages to stop you when you move to get up and start on his aftercare. "wait."

you raise your brows. "yes, ken?"

Sukuna never asked for a commitment. Somehow, the arrangement just fell into place anyway. It started with small things: late night texts, showing up without warning, and a heavy black leather jacket tossed over the back of a chair like it belonged there.

Your phone buzzed softly against the counter.

you home.

No greeting, no question mark—just the absolute assumption of an open door.

yeah.

Three dots appeared instantly.

open up.

A heavy knock followed seconds later.

"Geez. No 'please' or anything" you mumbled, tossing your phone back onto the counter.

Opening the door revealed Ryomen Sukuna leaning against the frame as if he’d been waiting all night. A familiar presence filled the doorway before he even spoke, the air growing heavy with his warm, spicy cologne. Red eyes flicked down, assessing the view. “Thought you were asleep.”

“Bruh, you literally just texted me.”

He hummed, brushing past without waiting for an invitation. His hand lingered briefly on the small of your back, pressing just enough to claim the space before letting go. You shut the door behind him. “You’re going to start paying rent at this point." Sukuna stretched out on your couch, arms draped lazily across the cushions with a smirk. “You’d miss me.” An eye roll was the only response you gave him, but neither side pushed the argument.

Weeks passed in a blur of late nights and shared silences. A heavy hand would rest on your waist during trips around the kitchen, fingers brushing the curve of your hip and teasingly lingering during the morning coffee brew. On walks together, he closed the distance entirely, slipping a hand into the back pocket of your jeans. No matter how many times that hand was swatted away with a muttered, “People are going to think we’re dating” the pink haired man just shrugged, keeping his hand firmly planted against ur ass. He always stood slightly behind or beside you, a silent declaration: I’m here.

Sometimes he waited after lectures, leaning against the campus gate with a lazy, half smirk, arms crossed as the crowd filtered past. Spotting him always made your stomach twist, knowing he’d been waiting long before the dismissal bell. His gaze would lock on, serving as a quiet warning to anyone walking too close.

Nights were spent sharing the couch and stealing blankets, half tangled around his large frame while the remaining fabric barely covered your lap. Sometimes he drapes himself across you, a hand brushing lightly down your arm or against your thigh—never intrusive, but entirely claiming the space. When he relaxed completely, your fingers wander over his tattoos, tracing the sharp lines along his face and chest. Each mark felt almost magnetic under the skin. He would hum low, letting the attention slide, a thumb occasionally brushing your wrist to claim the movement. His chest rose and fell steadily beneath your fingertips, a slight smirk evident in the way he adjusted his posture to keep your hand exactly where he wanted it.

There were nights spent falling asleep in his bed after an argument left unfinished—bodies pressed tight, the quiet between you louder than any words. Other mornings started tangled in his arms, hair brushing his chest, fingers clutching his shirt before fully waking up. His hand would curl around your wrist, his thumb tracing small, slow circles. The habits became second nature to notice: how he leaned a fraction closer when a stranger got too near. The amused smirk whenever a tease was thrown back at him. The trademark "tch" or scoff of annoyance that left his lips. Pressing his forehead to yours in the early mornings, claiming the first minutes of the day. Playing the thief with a tilted head and a lazy, "Oops, that's my spot now" daring an argument.

Almost like a couple. But without labels or promises, the unresolved tension grew nearly unbearable.

Tonight, gojo's house was packed. The bass vibrated faintly through the floorboards, drowning out the roar of the crowded room. People moved in a blur of red cups and loud laughter.

Pausing near the entrance to scan the room, your eyes landed across the living room. Sukuna leaned against the back of a couch, looking entirely too comfortable. A few girls crowded his space, laughing a little too loudly at whatever he’d just muttered. One girl rested a hand on tattooed arm. Another leaned in close, fingers brushing his shoulder. He let them.

Your jaw tightened.

His eyes found yours instantly, as if he’d known the exact second you walked through the door. The crowd seemed to fade under his direct stare. Across the room, through flashing lights and shifting bodies, he just watched. A slow smirk pulled at his lips, waiting to see your reaction. The girl beside him kept talking, her fingers resting on his arm, tracing the very same tattoos you usually spent hours mapping out. Sukuna didn’t move away. He just looked on—unbothered and thoroughly amused.

Typical.

Turning away before he could read anything else on your face, you made a beeline for the kitchen. A quick adjustment was made to the hem of the mini black off shoulder dress, the fabric hugging your waist and tight at the hips. Gold open toe heels clicked softly against the floorboards, gold hoops swaying with the quick tilt of your head. The reflective surface of the fridge offered a quick glimpse—makeup intact, shoulders tense, face slightly flushed from the scene in the living room. Pulling the door open, the cool light spilled out as you grabbed a drink.

“Careful with that one” a voice warned.

Turning around revealed a guy leaning against the counter, sporting a charming smile. “Trust me. It’s stronger than it looks.”

A small laugh escaped you. “I’ll take my chances.”

The guy laughed, stepping a bit closer to be heard over the booming music. “So… what brings you here alone?”

A shrug followed. “Just needed a drink and a break from… life.”

His smirk widened. “I get that. Same here.”

The conversation began to flow more freely, a genuine laugh sparking at a joke he made. It felt easy. The guy leaned in, lowering his voice. “You know, you’ve got this energy. Makes people really want to talk to you.”

A smile crept up, a sudden flutter stirring in your chest—until a familiar scent hit the air. Warm, spicy, and impossible to ignore. The exact aroma that lingered on your clothes every time he pulled you in.

Sukuna.

A heavy pair of arms slid around your waist from behind. His broad chest pressed flush against your back, almost swallowing you as he pulled you back. One hand settled flat against your stomach while the other grazed your hip, fingers brushing the edge of your short dress to anchor you firmly against him. The fabric shifted under his grip, lifting fractionally as you instinctively braced on your heels. Sukuna wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were locked dead on the guy across the counter. Slowly, the pink haired man dipped his head, his nose brushing the side of your neck before settling into the crook of your shoulder. Warm breath ghosted over your bare skin, his fingers tightening just enough to claim you. The gentle sway of gold hoops brushed against him with every shallow inhale.

The guy stiffens. “Oh—uh. Sorry, man, I didn’t know—”

“No” you interrupted, trying to shift out of his grasp. “We’re not—”

“Yeah” Sukuna cuts in smoothly, his voice low. “You should go.”

The guy hesitated, muttered a quick, “Right… my bad” and vanished into the crowd.

You turn inside Sukuna’s arms, looking up at him. “Bruh, what's your problem?” 

Sukuna looked down as if nothing had happened.

“You’re not my boyfriend” you huffed out.

His eyes slowly searched your face before letting out a slight scoff.

Pushing lightly against his chest, you snapped, “Stop acting like you own me.”

He simply watched, absorbing the defiance. Then, with a sudden tug at your waist, he pulled you closer. The hem of your dress rode up your ass slightly before his hand reached behind to pull the fabric back into place.

“You want a boyfriend?” His thumb dragged slowly along your jawline, tilting your face up to force eye contact. "That what this is about?”

Silence was the only answer, making his eyes narrow. “Tch. Greedy.”

The music and chatter faded into background noise—the space between you grew heavy. Sukuna hummed softly, his hand sliding back down to the small of your back. His fingers settled there as if they had never left, pressing into the curve. Your heels click softly against the floor as he adjusts his hold, keeping the fit perfect. “And yet” he murmured, leaning closer, “you still let me do this.” Your breath catches when he pulls you a fraction closer. 

“Doesn’t really sound like you want a boyfriend” Sukuna said lazily. Dipping his head lower, his lips trailed light kisses along your neck—the same familiar routine he’d done a thousand times before. It made your stomach twist. A sharp inhale brought in his spicy cologne, mixing with the soft sweetness of vanilla perfume until your head spun.

“Sounds like you just want me.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, a low, teasing vibration. “Go ahead… say you’re leaving me.”

The words never came.

A slow smile spread across his face. Because he already knows you won’t.

“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.”

────────────────

Almost everyone in the firm was out tonight, gathered in this cramped little bar, clinking glasses together with bright smiles and renewed motivation to keep up the good work. The atmosphere buzzed with energy and relief. 

Even Higuruma was here, he of whom who rarely was a 'party' guy, who usually slipped away from these gatherings with some excuse about paperwork or an early morning. Though not as enthusiastic as the others, not laughing or chatting loudly like some of the younger associates, a small smile graced his handsome face when someone congratulated him.

You in particular, even though it had been a joint case. 

"We haven't beaten the system yet." Higuruma said into the rim of his glass as he looked to you sitting beside him, his dark eyes meeting yours with that familiar weight of reality.

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing your head back slightly for effect, "And there he goes, eager to bring down the mood of our amazing victory." you said in a sarcastic tone, though there was no real bite to it. A huff of something- maybe amusement?- escaped his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I wasn't being pessimistic, you know." he responded with a low hum, turning his body towards you a bit, angling himself so his knee almost brushed against yours. 

The two of you sat in a booth tucked away in the corner, nursing soju and beer mixed in a single glass, watching the celebration unfold around you.

A dangerous combination, that drink...

"Oh really?" you drawl, a small almost teasing smile creeping onto your face as you tilted your head to look at him properly, "When is the great Hiromi Higuruma not pessimistic? When does he ever see the glass as half full?"

"Hmm, only when I know we'll win. Which is most of the time." he tapped two fingers against the sticky table in front of you both, the surface marked with ring stains from countless glasses over the years. 

"Yet we rarely do." you mumbled, looking off to see one of your colleagues babbling loudly about some after party that probably wouldn't take place, his words already starting to slur together. The poor guy could barely stand straight.

"Yet we rarely do." Higuruma repeated with a small nod before taking a sip of his drink. 

"Conviction rates are still horrible." he added after a minute of comfortable silence, pouring more soju into his glass with a steady hand. The clear liquid splashed against the sides. 

You raised an eyebrow, watching him fill it nearly to the brim.

Was he trying to get black-out drunk? That would be a first.

"They always have been, you know that." you set your glass down on the table with a soft clink and he clicks his tongue in response, a sound of frustration or maybe resignation. His jaw tightened slightly, and you could see that familiar tension creeping back into his shoulders despite the celebration happening all around you both.

"Still, we should keep working hard for each client we get. Most of them are innocent, but if a crime happens, the system makes sure that someone gets punished and locked away, guilty or not." Higuruma said quietly, his voice barely rising above the ambient noise of the pub. 

He swirled his drink around in lazy circles, watching the liquid catch the dim overhead lights.

You stared at him, your eyes tracing the tired lines etched into his face. You understood all too well the mental toll these difficult cases were causing him, the way they ate away at his idealism bit by bit. 

The weight of defending people in a system designed to crush them was visible in every weary gesture he made. No wonder he was drinking like a fish tonight.

You then shook your head, determined to lift the heavy mood that had settled over your corner booth. 

Putting a smile on your face and lifting your glass for a cheers, you said, "Enough work talk. Lighten up, Higuruma. This case," you leaned close, close enough that he could probably count your eyelashes if he wanted to, a smirk quirking your lips upward, "is one to go down in the books. We actually won this time."

Higuruma's eyes met yours, and something in his manner shifted. His dark eyes briefly glanced down to your throat, then lower to your collarbone which was slightly exposed because of your blouse and the angle he was peering down from. 

The top button had come undone sometime during the night- you hadn't noticed, but he certainly had. Nothing on his face showed the slight tingle that sparked in his lower abdomen, the warmth that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

"Right," he said, snapping his gaze back to your face perhaps a bit too quickly, clearing his throat, "Cheers." He clinked his glass against yours with a soft chime and you both took a big sip, the burn of the alcohol familiar and almost comforting at this point.

As the night buzzed on, so did the drinks. They kept coming, glasses getting refilled by an attentive server who seemed to appear whenever they were needed, the alcohol being the main reason that made the pub a bit more rowdy than what was probably allowed. 

Laughter got louder, voices got higher, inhibitions got lower.

A lot lower.

You and Higuruma talked about other things, the two of you existing in your own little world in the booth while the celebration raged around you. He noticed that your words tumbled out a little more slurred than what they had been at the start of the night. It made his already fuzzy brain wander to endless possibilities, thoughts he normally kept locked away behind professional courtesy.

He had always found you attractive. That was normal though, he told himself. You were a good-looking woman, so of course he thought what men long before him already had. It didn't mean anything special.

It wasn't helping that you were so close right now, leaned into him so he could hear you over the background noise of clinking glasses and drunken conversations. Your breath smelled of alcohol, sweet and sharp at the same time, and he was certain his did too. 

Not that he minded at all.

"Yeah.. I get that.." he murmured in response to whatever you said, nodding along. They were filler words, automatic responses. He wasn't paying attention at all to the actual content of your story.

Instead, his tired eyes were more focused on something way more interesting- no offense to you and whatever you were saying, but it was your thighs. 

You were wearing a pencil skirt that cut off at your knees, standard office wear, and damn if it wasn't messing with him. Every time you shifted your legs, whether crossing or uncrossing them over one another, the skirt shifted up just a little bit higher. 

He could see more of your thighs now than he had an hour ago.

"N' then, I swear, I swear, he threatened to phone the landlord as if he hadn't complained enough about it like four times before." you droned on through a slur, your words running together as you waved your hand around without much care, nearly knocking over your glass in the process.

"What a jackass.." Higuruma mumbled under his breath, the words coming out rougher than he intended. He paused for just a moment before slowly, subtly, letting his hand drift toward you. 

His fingers made contact with the side of your knee, the touch so light it could have been accidental. He glanced up to your face, searching for any reaction, but you didn't seem to notice what he was doing, or maybe you just didn't care enough to say anything about it.

You only continued to ramble on and on about your nosy neighbor, your words getting more animated as you recalled each annoying interaction.

"Why don't you file a complaint in response?" he asked, his voice steady even as his knuckles lightly ran over the slight curve of your knee. 

The movement was slow but gentle, testing the waters.

"Psh- I'm annoyed sure, but m' not petty like he is. It would only cause more problems." you dismissed the idea entirely, waving your hand in the air before reaching for your drink and taking another long swig from it. The alcohol burned pleasantly down your throat.

"Hmm." he only hummed with a slight nod, his eyes glancing back down to where his hand rested on your knee. He decided to grow bolder, to push things a little further.

To hopefully get across a more important matter he wanted to tend to, something that had nothing to do with neighbors or complaints or anything work-related.

His hand fully slid onto your knee, his palm now covering it completely as he leaned closer to you. The space between you was next to nothing. 

"You can't just not do anything.." he said quietly, his voice dropping to a lower register as he looked back to your face with slightly darkened eyes. 

Your lips parted to respond, the words forming in your mind, but you paused when you felt his warm hand gently squeeze your knee before moving an inch higher up your leg. The pressure was firm but not aggressive, laden a clear statement of intent.

"..Well," you blinked, your brain trying to catch up with what was happening. You swallowed thickly, your throat suddenly dry despite all the alcohol you'd been drinking, before shrugging in an attempt to seem casual, "I might if it gets to a point where he's just straight up harassing me. I'm a lawyer, I know the limit." you said with a bit of a nervous laugh that didn't quite sound natural.

"You know the limit?" Higuruma raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. "And.. what's the limit?" he asked.

His fingers moved up higher, slipping under the hem of your skirt just an inch. The touch sent a jolt through you. You had a strong feeling this 'limit' thing he was talking about wasn't regarding your neighbor anymore, if it ever had been.

"It's.." you trailed off, your thoughts scattering as you inhaled a soft breath through your parted lips. His hand had turned inward, and now his fingers pressed against the inside of your leg, the touch more intimate and purposeful. The heat from his palm seeped into your skin.

Yet you didn't push him away. 

You didn't tell him to stop or move his hand or ask him what the hell he thought he was doing.

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, lowering your defenses.

Or maybe it was the tension that had been building between the two of you ever since you started working together all those years ago.

"..You're drunk," you muttered, keeping your head tilted forward and down to watch his hand move higher on your thigh. A pleasant and familiar warmth spread from your stomach down to your underwear, pooling there and making you shift slightly in your seat.

"A bit." Higuruma responded in a quiet voice, his own body reacting to the situation. His suit slacks grew tight, the fabric straining against him in a way that was becoming uncomfortable. 

"Aren't you?" he asked, turning the question back on you.

"A bit." you admitted, finally looking up from his hand to his face. His eyes were lidded, heavy with arousal and alcohol and something else you couldn't quite name.

You couldn't help but think he looked really fucking good right now, with his tie loosened and his hair slightly mussed and that look in his eyes.

"you're soft.." he murmured, his voice almost reverent as he slowly moved his hand up until his fingers grazed your upper inner thigh. Your breath hitched in your throat, your stomach twisting with anticipation, and you found yourself looking around to see if anyone was perhaps looking over at the two of you.

No one was. 

Everyone was too caught up in their own celebrations and conversations.

You didn't know what to say as you steadily grew warmer and more aroused, the heat building between your legs. So your eyes only trailed down to his own situation, and no surprise, he was tenting. You could see the line of him in his pants... thick.

"Higuruma..." you warned in a whisper, though your voice lacked any real conviction.

"I think we're close enough that you could call me by my first name," he said in a low tone. His face moved closer to yours, just above your ear now. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of your hair- something floral mixed with the faint smell of the pub's atmosphere and your own natural scent.

His mouth watered.

"maybe too close..." you mumbled under your breath, the words barely audible over the noise of the pub around you. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of internal debate, you reached down with your hand and grabbed his wrist, your fingers wrapping around it firmly.

His hand stopped moving immediately, freezing in place on your upper thigh. He waited, his breath held, expecting you to pull his hand away from you entirely, to put an end to whatever this was between you.

You didn't.

You just held his wrist there, your grip neither pushing him away nor pulling him closer.

Higuruma felt a surge of excitement rush through him at that realization, his pulse quickening, "..don't tell me you oppose." he said quietly.

Once again, you swallowed hard, your throat working as you tried to process what was happening and what you were allowing to happen. Hesitantly, slowly, you released his wrist, your fingers sliding away from his skin. 

The muscle in his jaw twitched and feathered with tension. This was almost too good to be true, wasn't it? 

You wanted this just as badly as he did, didn't you?

As his fingers finally made contact with your underwear, which was shamefully damp against his touch, you reached out with a slightly trembling hand and carefully grabbed your drink from the table in front of you. You glanced around the pub warily once more, your eyes scanning the crowd to make sure no one was paying attention to what was happening in your booth, before you took a slow sip of your drink.

The both of you sat there in heavy silence, the only sounds between you being the heavy breathing that neither of you could quite control and the occasional quiet gasp that escaped from your lips despite your best efforts. 

His middle finger moved slowly up and down against the damp fabric, the motion teasing. He was careful not to use his wrist too much, keeping his movements small and subtle to prevent any obvious motion that could turn heads or draw unwanted attention from the others.

You sat there, your legs spreading only slightly wider to give him better access, your eyes fluttering closed every few seconds as you tried your absolute best not to look down at what was happening beneath the table. 

The alcohol flowing through your system was making it easier to let this happen, to not overthink it. 

It was overriding both of your better judgments thankfully- or maybe not thankfully, because this was probably not a good idea at all.

Definitely not.

"..you're wet.." Higuruma murmured directly into your hair, his breath hot against your scalp as he circled his finger right where he suspected your clit was located beneath the thin, soaked fabric. He must have been right on target judging by the way your thighs twitched in response to the pressure.

Your face burned even hotter than before, and this time it definitely wasn't from the liquor you'd been drinking.

And then it grew so much worse.

"Think you can cum with so many people around...?" he whispered, his voice dripping with something dark and hungry.

You could almost hear the hunger in his tone, the raw desire that dripped from every syllable.

So you grabbed his wrist again, humiliation striking you like a truck. The heat of embarrassment flooded through your veins as you halted his movements, and he inhaled sharply before glancing around the crowded bar.

"Don't- no more." you say quickly, breathless.

Higuruma narrows his eyes then glances around, taking in the scene. The other patrons were lost in their own conversations, oblivious to what had just transpired beneath the table. 

Yes... it was quite frustrating. He was just beginning to enjoy himself, just starting to feel the thrill of pushing boundaries.

Nevertheless, he slides his hand out from under your skirt, his fingers trailing against your inner thigh one last time. His expression was carefully blank as he grabbed his drink and downed it as if he had all the time in the world, as if nothing had happened at all.

You were sitting there, face flushed, heart pounding from the risk of potentially getting caught doing something so... unlike you. Hell- unlike Higuruma. The man was usually so composed.

What has gotten into him??

"Come on." he suddenly said, getting out of the booth, but not before grabbing your wrist and pulling you with him. 

"Ah, Higuru- Hiromi?" you corrected yourself, eyes widening as he dragged you out of the establishment. Your legs felt shaky as you stumbled after him, trying to keep up with his determined pace.

The cool night air hit your flushed skin as he pulled you around the corner, into a dimly lit alley between buildings. Before you could even process what was happening, your body was pressed against the rough brick wall.

"Fuck, you gotta be quiet..." he groaned into your ear as his hand clamped over your mouth. Your fingers dug into the brick wall of the alley he currently had you pressed against, searching for purchase, for something to ground yourself.

"mmph—" your eyes threatened to roll back as he rolled his hips into you from behind. You were so full and dizzy. 

His cock was sliding in and out of your tight, wet hole, your skirt bunched up just above the curve of your ass. The fabric was twisted in his other hand as he held it out of the way.

"so fuckin' tight... shit, you feel so good, you know that?" his breath was hot against your ear as a particular thrust of his cock made your knees wobble. 

You could feel every inch of him, every ridge, every vein as he moved inside you.

He was so deep in your cunt, and it felt amazing. 

Pleasure buzzed throughout your entire body, from your fingertips to your toes and especially in your pussy. Stuffed full of his cock, something you had wanted for longer than you cared to admit. All those late nights at the office, all those stolen glances, all that tension had led to this moment.

You moan filthy against his hand and your wet spittle drips onto the concrete as he rocked your body into the wall. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass practically echoed in the alleyway, something that made Higuruma's blood burn. The sound was obscene, dirty, and absolutely perfect.

He was fucking you out in the open. Filthy, in some alley, like a whore. 

Anyone could walk by. 

Anyone could see. 

The thought should have terrified you, but instead it only made you wetter.

His breath is hot and wet against the side of your neck as he pants like some dog in heat. Your cunt is drooling at this point, coating his shaft in glistening bliss and mixing with his pre. 

You couldn't keep up. You could hardly breathe. All you knew was that he was fucking you stupid and the slight pain in your chest from them being pressed hard against the brick felt so right. 

His hand, wet from your saliva, slid from your mouth and he tightly gripped your hip.

"Hiromi-" you gasped out, finally able to speak, your voice cracking with need.

"again," he growled, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip hard enough to leave marks. "want to hear my name while I'm buried inside you."

If you weren't so out of it, you'd be bewilderment by how filthy he was being.

"Hiromi- fuck, 'romi-" you whimpered, your walls clenching around him as another wave of pleasure crashed through you.

He groaned at the feeling of you tightening around him, his hips stuttering for just a moment before he regained his rhythm. His free hand snaked around your body, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles that made you see stars.

"..that's it," he murmured against your neck, his lips brushing your skin. "feel how hard you make me?"

You could only nod frantically, words escaping you as he continued his assault on your senses. Every thrust hit that perfect spot inside you, and every circle of his fingers on your clit sent shocks through your body.

The brick was rough against your palms, scraping your skin, but you didn't care. The slight sting only added to the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. You pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more.

"greedy little thing," he chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. "...can't get enough, can you?"

Oh he was plastered.

"no- need more, please-" you begged shamelessly, all thoughts of propriety long gone.

Higuruma's response was to angle his hips differently, hitting even deeper, making you cry out into the night. His hand quickly returned to your mouth, muffling the sound.

"shh, remember where we are." he reminded you, though his own breathing was getting more ragged, more desperate. 

Your pussy clenched at his words, and he felt it, groaning low in his throat. The hand on your hip moved to grab your breast through your shirt, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.

"close-" you managed to gasp against his palm. "m'so close-"

"yeah?.. gonna cum on my cock right here in this alley?" he asked, his voice strained. 

You nodded frantically, feeling the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. His fingers worked faster on your clit, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release.

With a raspy grunt that rumbled from deep in his chest, he slams his cock hard into you, the force of it making your entire body jolt forward. He uses this new leverage to fuck you like a man possessed, like something primal has taken over his usually controlled demeanor.

"shit!- Hiromi-" you cry while choking on a gasp, the sound strangled and desperate. Your eyes rolled back and so did your head, the overwhelming sensation making it impossible to focus on anything but the feeling of him pounding into you.

"so dirty, this is so hot.." he breathed, his voice rough and strained as he watched your ass ripple from every slap of his pelvis against the plush flesh. The sight was mesmerizing, hypnotic even.

 "haa.. you like that?" sweat beaded on his brow and trickled down his temple, and he wanted to unbutton some of his shirt to relieve some of the oppressive heat racking through his body, but his hands were literally glued to you. 

He couldn't let go even if he wanted to.

"like it- fuck, I like it-" you whine, your voice high and breathy. 

Your legs were trembling violently now, muscles quivering with the effort of keeping yourself upright. It felt like they were going to give out any minute, like you might just collapse right there in the alley.

"yea.. know you do.." he whispered to himself, the words barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. Your pussy walls were clenching so deliciously around his cock, squeezing and fluttering in a way that made his head spin. His cock was throbbing inside of you, pulsing with each heartbeat, desperate for release that he was trying so hard to hold back.

He could tell you were close from the way your gasps and moans rose an octave, becoming more frantic and desperate. Your walls began fluttering around him in that telltale way, and he knew you were right on the edge.

"come on, cum on my cock- go on, nghh-" his eye twitched, teeth clenching hard enough to hurt as your orgasm finally ripped through your body. 

Thankfully, you didn't scream out, only choked out a strangled gasp and locked up completely. Your entire body went rigid as your pussy milked his cock for all it was worth, clenching and pulsing around him in waves.

"shit- shitshitshit-" he grunted through his teeth, the words coming out harsh and broken. He rutted through your orgasm, his hips moving on autopilot as he chased his own release. 

Then his own orgasm hit him like a freight train, stealing the breath from his lungs. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, leaving deep indents that would probably bruise later. His hips slowed to a grinding pace as his cockhead pushed his creamy seed deep into you, painting your insides white. 

He didn't want to waste a single drop on the concrete below. He wanted to fill you completely.

Your breathing was ragged and uneven, his heavy and labored, as he slumped against your back. The weight of him pressed you harder against the wall, and you almost collapsed under him, your legs finally giving out. But the wall was there to prevent that.

Your head was spinning, thoughts scattered and hazy in the aftermath. Every muscle in your body ached down to the bones, trembling with exhaustion and the lingering aftershocks of pleasure. 

"that was... stupid.." you say breathlessly, the words coming out between gasps for air.

"no one saw.." he replied quietly, his voice muffled against your shoulder. 

He closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead into your shoulder blade, trying to catch his breath and slow his racing heart.

"are you sure?" you say, worry creeping into your post-orgasm haze. 

Higuruma wasn't sure, not really. Not even close to sure, if he was being honest with himself. He had been too lost in his mind with fucking you, too consumed by the feeling of being inside you. 

The only thing on his mind had been your wet heat, the way you felt wrapped around him, the sounds you made. He wasn't exactly paying attention to the entrance of the alleyway for any onlookers who might have wandered past. For all he knew, someone could have seen everything.

It could be bad if anyone actually saw. He was a known lawyer for fuck's sake. But it was pointless to worry at this point.

"I'm sure." he lied smoothly, the words coming easily despite the uncertainty gnawing at him. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, soft and tender in contrast to the rough way he'd just taken you. 

Yeah.... so, he wasn't sure.

Not at all.

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“mhmmp—oh! f-fuck! sukuna—!” you whine, feeling powerless to his body’s prodding pleasure in the deepest parts of your being.

a thick, inhumanly long tongue—way longer, hotter and rougher than anything possible— speared, once again, straight into your dripping hole without warning. the wet, obscene sound of it plunging deep echoed loudly in the room as the ridged muscle curled and twisted inside you, scooping out your slick just to swallow it after.

“greedy little thing, huh?” he rumbled from above, his plump lips smirking at your wrecked form as the lower ones stayed glued to your clit. “enjoying this, sweetheart?”

“you’re—ngh! being an asshol—ah!” you were suddenly cut off by a hard suck on your swollen nub. the thick muscle fucked into you in brutal, wet strokes. every thrust and suckle made your hips jerk and thighs tremble violently around his torso. everything you did to keep yourself from collapsing on his arms was futile. he was too powerful to be fight and you were too drunk on him to do so.

his thick fingers clamped down on your ass, spreading you wider, while the other pair of hands gripped your waist, yanking you down harder onto that relentless mouth lapping, thrusting and curling against that spongy spot inside you that made your vision spark white.

“shit—hah! it’s— ngh— too much—!” you slurred, hips grinding desperately against the moving muscle. your juices were already creating a messy puddle of slick over his abs, coating the hard planes of his skin with his mouth’s spit and your own fluids.

and of course, like the compassionate, caring husband he was, all he did in the face of your suffering was mock you.

yes. mock you.

his main tongue clicked in amusement. “look at you, darlin’. ridin’ my stomach like a desperate whore. this is what you wanted to know, wife?” he chuckled low and gravelly, the vibration of his voice traveling straight through his body and into that hungry mouth sucking on your cunt. “does it feel different when my other tongue stretches this sloppy pussy open?”

you couldn’t even answer. the only things you were able to pronounce were just broken cries along with wet, squelching sounds that your body made for him as that monstrous tongue bullied deeper, fucking you open with wet, obscene thrusts. you never thought your lower lips and his would ever be sharing such a messy kiss!

but well, here you are now. the only thing left for you to do is enjoy it—and oh, you really are.

your hands flew down after a particular hard smooch on your soft spot, digging your nails into the hard muscle of his chest. and that’s when you felt it—deep in your love channel. the pink tip of his tongue kissing your cervix over and over and over again ‘til your eyes filled up with salty tears.

your back arched as the raw pleasure shot throughout the vast expanses of your body. overwhelmingly intense. with the force of an hurricane destroying everything in its path.

“sukunasukuna—! fuck— I’m—! o-oh god—!”

your whole body seized with the intensity of your orgasm, thighs clamping around him as you came hard all over his stomach. that hungry maw of his drank every little drop of your elixir—sucking greedily like a man dying of thirst.

but even as you twitched and sobbed through the aftershocks, that wicked tongue kept lazily pumping into your fluttering walls, savoring every spasm and every fresh gush of slick oozing out. however, your legs soon gave in and you collapsed on the bed by his side, panting as you tried to regain your composure—another failed attempt, by the way—and still leaking over the sheets.

“that was… fuck—hah- that was crazy…”

sukuna shifted lazily, crossing his upper pair of arms behind his head with all the calm in the world. hell, he even let out a yawn. “does that answer your question, darlin’?”

those crimson eyes like pretty rubies watched you with dark amusement as you tried to catch your breath. unlike him, who looked as fresh as a daisy, you were practically knocked out. your husband had no consideration for you, and what’s worse, he enjoyed torturing you.

“you could have just said yes to my question… y’know?” you managed weakly, voice hoarse and fucked-out. “but yeah, kinda.”

“good,” he grinned, all four eyes narrowing with renewed hunger. “‘cause it’s not done with you.”

before you could even process the words, two massive hands grabbed your hips—manhandling your limp body with terrifying ease. soon enough you were being flipped onto your stomach and yanked up onto your knees, with your face pressed into the sheets and ass raised high toward him.

a second later, that same tight, wet muscle returned. though this time it didn’t dive straight into your aching cunt. nope!

the hot, slick tongue dragged slowly upwards, leaving a shiny trail of your own juices mixed with his spit in its wake, until the tip teased right against your tighter, untouched hole.

“sukuna— wait— that’s not for you to— AH—!” his second mouth smirked against your skin before plunging deep into your puckered rim—deliberately circling the sensitive ring with filthy intent or pushing past its resistance.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he pressed forward, starting to stretch your inexplored entrance. “but you asked for this.”

　໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ ꒱ᩙა⠀⠀𝐕𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄⠀㆐⠀navi　mlist　taglist　rules .