margot

Try as you will to convince everyone, including yourself, that you don't like when they treat you this way, the truth is that you love it. You love that you're the sole recipient of this kind of attention from them, with the two boys never failing to make you feel desired.

And you certainly can't hide that you love it when Kenjaku presses your hand down in its place and forces you to add more pressure to your sensitive cunt, the vibrations from your toy drawing you closer to your climax—all while under the weight of both their gazes. They're hovering over you, breathing heavy and cocks hardening while you stare up at them. You're completely at their mercy when your first orgasm takes over, sending you into a fit of tremors, and you whine so loudly that Suguru has to clamp a hand down on your mouth to muffle the sound.

After that, they're quick to discard the toy. Suguru opts instead to replace it with his fingers, slipping two of them inside your drenched pussy with ease. He buries the slender digits to the last knuckle before curling them just right, pressing up against that spongy spot which makes you kick the blankets off of you, desperate for some relief from the heat settling across your body and deep in your core.

Kenjaku chuckles at the sight, drinking in the way he can practically see the need building inside you. It's obvious in the way your eyes keep flicking between him and his twin. Not to mention the way your hands are now grasping for their arms instead of the bed sheets, gripping the limbs so tightly, like you think it'll ground you as Suguru takes you impossibly high.

It's a good thing that he does too—coaxing out a second orgasm which leaves you a puddle on the bed, your legs limp and head lolling to the side. Your chest heaves while you try to catch your breath. It hardly takes any effort for Suguru to reduce you to such a malleable state for his rougher counterpart.

Even so, it still hurts when Kenjaku finally frees his cock and begins pressing it inside your tight hole. But that's exactly why Suguru put you in his lap, your legs spread over his own while he hugs your back against his chest. His hands cup your breasts under the t-shirt you’re wearing, kneading the fat while pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

"You're doing so well," he coos, his voice low and smooth in your ear. His nose brushes against the column of your neck before he presses a kiss behind your ear. "Just a little more, he's almost there."

If not for Suguru, you're unsure if you'd be able to fit all of Kenjaku's length inside you. Your seemingly sweeter brother is doing such a good job at helping you relax until you're melting in his hands and opening up for his twin.

"Her pussy is so tight," Kenjaku grits between clenched teeth, his fingertips digging into your thighs much too hard. "Told you she'd let us do whatever we wanted—our little sister's a bit of a whore, huh?"

Suguru chuckles when you try to refute that statement only to have the words knocked off of your tongue when Kenjaku pulls out all the way before slamming back in. "Don't need to be so mean…" Suguru brushes a thumb gently over your nipple, feeling it harden under the finger pad. You sigh softly and slump even further into him, relieved that he's sticking up for you. "…She probably hears that enough."

"Huh?" You crane your neck to look at your older brother, betrayal and confusion written all over your face. He only pinches his brows together in mock sympathy before the expression morphs into amusement when Kenjaku finally starts to fuck you the way they both want to.

Your brother is ruthless, pounding into your poor cunt so fast and hard that you can’t keep up. If Suguru wasn't there to hold you, you're sure that the top of your head would already be slamming into the headboard and you're not sure Kenjaku would care enough to stop.

"O-Oh my god," you moan, eyes drifting shut as your head falls back under Suguru's chin. "oh god, oh god, Ken—Sugaah.”

"You get even dumber when you’re being fucked?" Kenjaku's tone is harsh, the words hitting you with the same force as his hips against your pelvis. "Don't know how to think, let alone speak. Basically just a cock sleeve, huh?”

"Mmn-no…" you whine even though that’s all you can manage to say while you’re rolling your hips desperately to meet his thrusts.

"It's okay, sis. You're so pretty, it’s okay that you’re not smart." Suguru's cock is pressing firmly into your back, getting harder each time his brother pounds into you and causes your body to rock against his lap.

They're making your head spin. Kenjaku's rude demeanor only makes you want to pleasure him more, craving his approval and affection which he refuses to give you. And Suguru is just so confusingly condescending. Each sentence is uttered so softly and with such endearment despite the words being just as brutal as his twin's.

You can hardly keep up with them, not that you've ever really been able to, but it's even worse when the coil in your stomach is winding tighter with each passing second. They take turns degrading you in their own ways, obsessing over how your eyes have glazed over, indicating that their comments are going in and out of each ear as your tired brain struggles to comprehend them.

"God, she's going to cum, I can feel it," Kenjaku rasps, picking up his pace even more. Your pussy is so loud and wet as his cock plows into it, giving away just how turned on you are by them. "Can't believe she's letting her brothers fuck her like this. I mean, what would her friends think?"

He says that, but the truth is that both men can feel their own orgasms approaching as well, and they need you just as much as you need them.

"C'mon, be nice. She doesn't know any better. Our little sis just wants to feel good." Suguru gropes at your chest even harder, beginning to rut his hips against your lower back.

They keep this up for as long as they can, ignoring the endless whimpers and moans that spew from your glossy lips until you're finally shattering between them. You cum around your brother's cock with a cry of his name, the velvety walls of your cunt pulsing around him until he can't hold back any longer.

Unlike his stupid sister who keeps mumbling for him to cum inside her, Kenjaku at least has enough sense to pull out.

His hand quickly wraps around his shaft, jerking his cock as fast as Suguru is rubbing his own against your body until the both of them are spilling their release onto you at the same time. Sticky white webs of their seed land across your stomach and your lower back, clinging to your sweaty skin and creating a mess out of their perfect baby sister.

You never had a boyfriend, not even a little fling, because the minute you mentioned it to Sukuna the old man would blow a damn fuse. He'd prattle on about how he just knows that they're not good for you, and how you don't need a boyfriend—you have school to focus on.

You gave up a long time ago on asking him how he could be so sure that they weren't a respectable boy to date. He never gave you a real answer, just said, "no such thing as a respectable boy at your age."

You clear your throat, pushing your food around your plate awkwardly. "…Well? Can I?"

Sukuna sighs. "There gonna be boys at this party?"

Rolling your eyes as you set your fork down, you cross your arms in front of you. "Yes, Sukuna. There will be boys, it's a party."

"Watch it," he warns, "it's nine in the morning, don't need you bein' a brat already."

That's another thing Sukuna has always been weird about—when you don't call him "dad." It's not that you think he doesn't deserve the title, he does, especially since the divorce when he finally gave you a way out from under your mom's roof. You just like to call him by his name to get under his skin when he's pissing you off.

"Okay, sorry. But your answer?"

"It's not like you'd listen if I told you no," Sukuna grumbles, scratching at the scruff on his chin. "No staying the night, you come home alone and at a reasonable hour. Got it?"

He'd be lying if he said he was completely on board with the idea, but Sukuna knows that will never be the case. He is never going to be excited about the prospect of you going out and drinking all night, but he also knows that he can't stop you, nor should he try. Besides, the way you smile so wide and spring up from the table to run over and kiss him on the cheek as a 'thank you' makes the whole situation a little easier to stomach.

Until you come say goodbye to him later.

Sukuna's sitting up in bed against the headboard, shirt off and glasses on with his latest novel open on his lap.

You peek your head in the doorway, tapping against the wood to get his attention. "My friends are on the way, just wanted to say bye."

You're about to whip back around the corner when Sukuna tosses his book aside. "Come back here."

You know where this is going.

Slowly, you step through the doorway and into the soft light cast by the bedside lamp. His lips tug into a frown as his eyes take their time trailing over your body—or more like the dress you call an outfit.

His gaze is heavy, making you wring your hands together behind your back. You'd never ask him, but you wonder if he thinks you look good.

"Go change."

"No, I don't have anything else to wear," you lie.

Sukuna tries to look stern, because truthfully he does hate the dress. Or rather, he hates that he's not the only one who will get to see you in it.

But he can't deny that you do look good. Especially with the way it hugs your hips and is too small to safely wear without shorts but he knows you don't have any on. In fact, if you were to bend over in front of him he's sure that he'd be able to— "What happened to all those clothes you buy with my card?"

You're giggling at him while you shrug, "not sure what you're talking about."

"Whatever," Sukuna's given up already on fighting you just like he usually does, though this time a little more quickly. "Give me a hug before you go."

His voice is low and rough, and something about it makes you feel nervous tonight. Maybe it's the way you notice his eyes returning to your figure, watching the way your thighs move as you cross the room. Or maybe it's the way his chest looks bigger in the dim lighting, dark tattoos and hair sprawled across it.

You crawl onto your knees on the bed, shuffling towards Sukuna until you're able to wrap your arms around his neck and fall into him with your head curled under his chin.

You always forget how big he is.

Large, calloused hands meet on your lower back. They're firm and steady and feel like they're burning into your skin through the thin fabric of your dress.

You smell like the new perfume Sukuna bought you for your birthday. He was so glad that you liked it, wearing it everyday, like his own mark on you even if no one else knows you're his.

Sukuna's hands caress your back gently for a moment, before something possesses him to slide one lower. Your stomach twists as Sukuna snakes his hand down until the palm is resting on the globe of your ass. And you know that you should move his hand, or ask him what he's doing, or at the very least pull away from him because it's not right.

But instead you nuzzle in closer, your nose brushing against the column of his neck. Emboldened, Sukuna gives your ass a quick squeeze, fingertips digging into the fat before moving to rest on your hip.

"Don't get home too late," Sukuna mutters into your ear, hugging you a little tighter.

Your heart is racing and you can hear the blood pumping in your ears, a thick tension settling over you two. It's not completely unexpected, more something that has been brewing ever since the two of you started living alone. It was like an unspoken agreement formed, allowing yourselves to look at one another differently, no longer under the harsh scrutiny of your mother. But before tonight, things had never progressed beyond looks.

You don't want to go out. You want to stay home with your stepdad and spend the night in his bed, not out at a party with too loud music and overly sweet drinks that spill and leave the ground sticky.

But before you can entertain the thought for long, your phone is buzzing and you know your friends have arrived.

The party isn't nearly as fun as you hoped it would be. You still try to have a good time because you know there's really nothing wrong with it—the music is good, the drinks are free, your friends are with you—still, you just want to be home.

You haven't been able to stop thinking about Sukuna since the moment you reluctantly crawled out of his arms. A couple of guys have even approached you tonight, and while you'd think they would be a welcome distraction, talking to them only makes you painfully aware of how they could never compare to the man who's waiting up for you to come home safely.

The poor man, actually.

Because you've been spending all your time stuck in an endless cycle of pouring a drink, thinking about Sukuna, realizing you shouldn't be thinking about your stepdad the way that you are, finishing your drink to feel better about it, and then getting another. You're so caught up in the sad routine that you don't even realize how late it is.

When you finally check your phone there's multiple missed texts and a call from Sukuna. Shit.

You send him a quick message letting him know you're on the way before calling your uber home. He responds immediately with a thumbs up.

Apprehension pools in your gut as you sit in the backseat. Despite all the drinks you consumed, the realization that you're about to see Sukuna again has sobered you up significantly. You don't know what to expect—if he'll be mad at you, worried, disappointed for not keeping him in the loop. And above all else you wonder if he's going to acknowledge what happened before you left.

Sukuna is of course waiting for you when you step into your home, both hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. "Where were you?"

"At the party," you answer truthfully, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"It's late. I told you to be home at a reasonable hour. Does this seem reasonable to you?"

"No, I just… lost track of time," you pout. It really was an accident.

Sukuna pauses for a moment, the gears turning in his head. He remembers when he was in college, using that same excuse every time he was late because he was actually out hooking up with someone. "Were you with a boy?"

"What? No, I just was distracted, promise," you're panicking slightly, feeling a stronger urge to defend yourself than normal. You don't want him to think you were with anyone, especially not now.

His silence makes your heart beat faster. Sukuna can be so unreadable that even after knowing him for all these years you have a hard time figuring out what's going through his head. If he doesn't want you to know what he's thinking, it's almost a guarantee that you won't.

"I swear," you plead, "I wouldn't do that, I've never…" Your voice gets smaller as you trail off, too embarrassed to finish that sentence.

But Sukuna won't let that slide. "You've never what?"

You hesitate, "like, had sex. I thought you knew that."

Honestly, Sukuna had no idea. He knew that he wanted you to be a virgin, but not that you actually were one. "Nah, I didn't. But good, cause you know I don't think anyone deserves you."

You're staring at your feet, head swirling with a multitude emotions and each one is more confusing than the last. When you look back up at Sukuna again his heart melts at the way your eyes have so much adoration in them, so much hope when you ask, "even you?"

Sukuna sighs, scratching the back of his head as he tries to decide how to reply. Your anxiety grows the longer he stays quiet, wondering if you just fucked up by actually acknowledging what you've been dancing around for ages.

"We can talk about this another time," Sukuna settles on a bullshit excuse to avoid your question all together. Earlier tonight he already crossed a line, an albeit blurry one, but nonetheless, he's trying to be a good parent and do the right thing now—which is rare for him. But his restraint is wearing dangerously thin and it only gets worse when he sees the way your bottom lip quivers.

Are you about to fucking cry?

"Sweetheart, hey," he speaks softer to you now. He didn't expect you to be this upset.

You lean away from him when he tries to rest a hand on your shoulder, ducking under his arm instead to retreat to your room.

"Hey!" he calls after you but you slam the door on him.

Even though you know you don't really have a right to be upset with him, you can't help it. It's not hard to understand where he's coming from, but it doesn't change the fact that things have never been normal between you two. Who could blame you for finally talking about it?

Only now you can't help but feel like an idiot for it.

Sukuna knocks gently on your door, "can I come in?"

"Fuck off," you shout weakly.

You can hear him chuckling on the other side, "Okay, I'm coming in."

You're glaring at Sukuna as he steps into your room and he notices the few tears that are rolling down your cheeks. He sits down on your bed with a small grunt, his hands clasped together as his elbows rest on his knees.

"Look, I'm sorry," he starts and you immediately scoff. "I shouldn't have brushed you off, that's my bad."

"Yeah," is all you give him, followed by a small sniffle.

Sitting back, Sukuna pats his lap, "c'mere." You scoot a little further away from him, shooting him a mean side eye that tells him you haven't forgiven him yet. "Stubborn brat."

Before you can escape, two thick arms wrap around your waist, picking you up like you weigh nothing before dropping you down onto Sukuna's lap. You're straddling his hips, facing him so you can't ignore him anymore. His hands are holding you firmly, forcing you to stay in place and much to your dismay, you can already feel your ire dissipating.

"Don't be like that, you know I love you," Sukuna mutters, looking up at you. Your mascara is a little smudged but other than that your makeup is still in tact, your eyes are a bit glassy from the tears and your lips a little swollen from biting down on them.

"It's not the same," you mumble, blinking quickly when you feel your eyes getting wet again.

Sukuna can't help but wonder if he's really doing the right thing by turning you down if it's going to make his sweet girl so sad.

His thumbs rub your hips as his grip tightens, "let me make it up to you."

With that, he's closing the space between you two, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss starts out like an apology, slow and deep, making sure you can feel everything that he hasn't been able to say to you. And once Sukuna has your hands threading through his undercut, cradling the back of his head to hold him even closer, he only gets hungrier.

Sukuna's tongue swipes along the seam of your lips, slipping inside your warm mouth when they part for him.

You give an experimental roll of your hips, not missing the way Sukuna's breath hitches, nor the tent that's forming in his boxers. Your heart swells with the knowledge that he's feeling good too, that he wants you.

Sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, Sukuna gives it a quick bite, grinning at the way you gasp before he pulls away from you.

He uses his hands to guide you, pressing you down harder against his crotch as he moves your hips back and forth. His eyes are transfixed on the place where you're grinding down onto him, pupils blown wide when your dress starts to bunch up even higher, flashing him a view of your bare mound.

"Fuck," he breathes, "no panties?"

"Mmn, no," you shake your head, "wanted to stay home."

Sukuna groans at that, bucking his hips up into you. He can feel the way you're starting to wet the fabric of his underwear, dripping onto him. "You always take 'em off when you wanna spend time with your dad?"

You're about to tell him not to say stuff like that, but then he's kissing you again and you no longer care. His lips latch onto your neck, suckling on the skin and nipping at it until there's purple splotches left behind. Those marks are much better than the perfume that Sukuna can smell so strongly now.

He drags his tongue up the column of your neck, the strange sensation making you squirm against him.

"Aah, oh god," you whine, humping faster against his bulge. It's the perfect notch to rub against your clit, each grind taking you closer to your climax.

Your thighs burn, your breath short as your rhythm starts to falter and you let out a whine. You want to cum so bad, you're so close… but already tired.

"Keep goin'," Sukuna rasps, pressing a sloppy kiss to your collarbone. "You're doin' so well, making yourself feel good on me. Don't you wanna cum?"

Your hands snake around his neck as you hold him close to you, relishing in the way he's still worshipping you with his lips and his tongue along your skin. "I wanna—yeah," you mewl, "feels so good, please."

Sukuna loves feeling you struggle against him, witnessing your sorry attempt at making yourself cum. Your hips are moving erratically, just trying to get any sort of friction to take you higher while his hands have stopped guiding you. The little whimpers that spill from your bitten lips are just another reminder of how much you need him.

"Please what?" he coos, hands sliding to your ass to knead the fat there.

"So tired… please, need you to help me."

"All ya had to do was ask, sweetheart." With another chaste kiss to your neck, his fingers dig into your waist again, tugging you into him.

Immediately, your body relaxes, giving up entirely on doing any work for your own pleasure. You resign to Sukuna, letting your stepfather have full control.

He's dragging your cunt back and forth along the outline of his cock, the fabric of his boxers only adding to the stimulation. His hips are rolling faster now, pressing up harder against you to add to the pressure and it's perfect. He's able to do everything that you couldn't do in your own and soon your orgasm is returning full force as your head lolls back, a string of moans and curses spilling from your lips.

"C'mon, show me how good I'm makin you feel," Sukuna groans into the crook of your neck. He can feel your cunt pulsing against his length, he knows you're nearly there.

"Fuck, fuck, I think—"

"Don't think baby, just let go. I wanna feel ya cum for me."

Sukuna's overwhelming your senses as his breath fans hot against your skin, his voice low in your ear. The scent of his body wash and cologne waft into your nose as you get consumed by him entirely.

And when you cum it really is just for him. His name is the only word you can choke out between the moan that's ripped from your throat. Your muscles tense and your hold digs into him, desperate to feel him as close as possible while you crumble atop his lap.

"There ya go, just like that. Doesn't that feel nice?" Sukuna coaxes you through your release until you're breathless, slumped into his chest as he rubs your back soothingly. "Still tired?"

You're shaking your head no despite the fact that your eyelids seem to weigh a hundred pounds, and the longer you're wrapped in Sukuna's arms the closer you are to letting them slide shut.

"Maybe let's get you to bed," Sukuna suggests, but those words snap you back awake.

"No, I'm fine," you mumble so quietly that Sukuna is hardly convinced. "I want you to stay."

You can feel his hardness pressing against you. It must be agonizing to sit there with you soaking his lap, the weight of your body being the only semblance of relief provided for his arousal. And it's not nearly enough to satiate his need, you know that.

Sukuna had fully planned on selflessly tucking you in and slipping away to his room so he could take care of himself. He'd think about what your pussy would feel like wrapped around him—as he does every time—while he jerks his cock until he reaches an unsatisfactory completion.

But you cling to him as though your bodies are glued together and continue to beg him to stay. And who is he to deny you when you look at him with those wide eyes, bottom lip jutted out, your voice pleading. He is a man after all, and admittedly not a selfless one.

Sukuna's hands smooth along your back under your dress and you melt into his touch. "Were you holdin' out for me?"

You nod against his chest, unable to see the twitch of his lips. "Please," you push up, detaching yourself further from Sukuna to really meet his eyes now. "Been waiting cause I only want you."

"Shit," Sukuna breathes and any last ounce of hesitation within him melts away when you lightly grind your hips once more against his crotch. He's fully hard beneath you and you can already tell just how big he is.

His fingertips grasp the hem of your dress, tugging it up. "Let's get this off, yeah?" You're so pliant, raising your arms for him to begin stripping you down. Allowing him to move you how he pleases until you're laying on your back, your knees bent and legs spread.

Sukuna runs a hand up and down your calf, tugging it aside just a bit more. He wants to make sure he's got a good view now that you're finally naked before him.

But you press your legs back in, giving him some resistance which earns you a pointed look. "I'm—" you pause, chewing your lip as you do whenever you're feeling unsure.

"What is it?" Sukuna questions, using his strength to keep spreading your thighs apart—eventually you give in.

"I'm nervous," you finally admit. You're wondering if he's going to be upset, irritated at the fact that one minute you were begging him to the stay and the next you're being like this.

Instead, his expression softens the slightest bit and he gives one of your legs a reassuring squeeze. "That's normal, sweetheart. Your dad's gonna take care of you though, you know that right?"

You nod.

"You trust me?"

You nod again.

"Good. Now quit bein' all shy."

When Sukuna steps out of his boxers and frees his heavy length, the only thing you can think about is how badly you need him. His cock is as intimidating as it is captivating, and while it's the only one you've seen, you're certain that no one else could compare. Thick and veiny, the tip looks wet already, though maybe it's just a shimmer from the silver jewelry planted there—a testament to his nature.

Because contradictory to how Sukuna acts with you, he's still rough around the edges. He's a man who doesn't listen to anyone, let alone care what they have to say, and yet he always makes time for you.

He's a man who always said he'd never truly settle down, let alone have kids. And here he is, stuck between those very two relationships with you and trying to navigate which one to pursue.

You turned him soft for you.

But he is still Sukuna. That much becomes clear when he pushes just the tip inside you and feels his self control wavering. He cares about you, but your sweet pussy is practically sucking him in, all warm and tight, and you feel so good that all he wants to do is fuck you like you mean nothing to him.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to indulge just a little bit more, right? He's been so careful up until this point, surely you can handle it.

The look in Sukuna's eyes is pure hunger, black pupils swallowing red as he stares straight down at the cunt that's stretching open around his cock. His tongue darts out to swipe along his bottom lip, your own eyes watching as he wets the soft skin. Sukuna is breathing raggedly above you, hot air fanning against your face and making the space between you two feel even smaller.

You could almost lose yourself in the closeness, letting your eyes flutter shut and inhaling the smell of him, running your hands along his bare back and feeling the way the muscles ripple beneath your fingertips. But you never get the chance because a moment later you're letting out a sound halfway between a moan and a scream, your head thrashing back into the pillow as your thighs clamp down around Sukuna's hips.

He slammed inside you in one solid thrust, unable to wait any longer to bury himself in your heat. And while he knows that he should have been courteous enough to slowly open you up to him, at least he has half a mind to allow you the time to adjust to his length. He slips a hand behind your head, supporting it as he buries your face into his chest and lightly rocks his hips.

"You okay, baby?" he plants a kiss to the crown of your head and your stomach flips.

"It's ah, a lot…" you breathe.

"I know, I know," he pulls out halfway before sliding back in. You whimper at the feeling, not yet completely used to him. "You're takin' me so well though, my good girl. Making me feel so good."

"Yeah?" The hope in your voice could make him melt. Of course it's your first time, and all you can think about is whether or not Sukuna is enjoying himself. And really, how could he not be? Another roll of his hips and you're locking your ankles around his back, holding him close. "You can go faster now."

Sukuna doesn't need to be told twice. With your invitation, he sets a rhythm that's hard enough to make your mouth fall open into the pretty shape of an 'o', hard enough to ensure that he's filling you to the brim each time he enters you. He makes sure he's pressing fully into your cunt until his hips are flush against yours, unable to go any further.

When he sits back on his haunches, he grabs your legs and throws your ankles over his shoulders instead. He's got your hips lifted off the mattress, his arms hugging your thighs for leverage as he pistons in and out of you, pulling a sharp cry from your lips. And it's not the change in speed as he bucks his hips faster that makes your head start to spin, nor is it how his pelvis is now smacking impossibly harder against your ass, but it's the way the new angle allows the head of his cock to bully that perfect spot deep inside you. Just behind your belly button, he manages to press against it with brutal precision, causing your cunt to produce a watery slick that begins to coat his shaft.

"Fuck, you hear that?" He knows you can. The wet squelching sound is embarrassingly loud now, bringing a burning flush to your cheeks as you moan unabashed. "So fuckin' wet. This pussy was made for taking my cock."

The feeling coiling in your stomach is new. Nothing like the sensation you'd experience on those scarce nights when you'd dip a hand into your pajamas, fingers fumbling around your clit until you draw out a pathetic orgasm. No, you feel this everywhere. In your tummy, your abdomen, your cunt. In fact, it feels like—"Kuna, wait!" you gasp, fingernails digging into his shoulder. "W-wait, stop, I think I have to pee."

But he doesn't stop. He just fucks you with even more vigor, a wicked grin on his lips as he sees the concern on your face and feels the way your silky walls are fluttering around his length. "Shit, baby, that's it." You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. "Come on, I'll make you feel good. Trust me, sweetheart."

Even if you didn't want to, it's not like you have much choice in the matter with how unrelenting Sukuna is. You can't fight the feeling for much longer before you're shattering beneath him on the bed, your legs shaking in his hold as you squirt. And he just keeps fucking you through it as you chant his name on repeat like a prayer, your watery release splashing onto his abs and the sheets beneath you two.

"Just like that… look so pretty when you cum for me. Fuck, you're so messy."

In all honesty, Sukuna isn't sure how he hasn't cum yet, but thinks it must be sheer willpower. He's wanted you for so long, unsure if he'd ever have you, and now he sure as shit isn't going to let you go after one measly orgasm. No, even when you're trembling from the overstimulation, stuttering out a weak protest as you come down from your high, he'll keep splitting you open on his cock.

It's almost painful in a wonderful sort of way. The overwhelming pleasure that your stepdad is forcing upon you as he keeps fucking you after you came so hard for him already—twice. It's a feeling that you never would have experienced on your own because you wouldn't be able to keep going. You're too tired, too sensitive to do much more than feebly gyrate your hips against him.

"Ohh, fuck—dad," you whine, the word falling from your lips in a way that sounds so desperate, so needy. Sukuna's hips still immediately. Your eyes open to meet his, an unreadable look on his face as he stares down at you, his mouth agape and breathing heavily. "What's wrong?" you worry.

"Say it again." You pause, your nerves coming back full force under the weight of his gaze and the accompanying demand. "Told ya to quit bein' shy around me. Now tell me who's making you feel this good." He punctuates the command with a rough thrust into your overstimulated cunt.

"Ohmygod, dad!"

Sukuna knows he shouldn't be getting off on that as much as he is, but it's hard to feel bad about it when you're tightening up around his cock every time you cry out for him. You just make it so easy for him to lose himself when he's inside you, when he has you spread out on the sheets beneath him, your back arching and head thrown back into the pillows. And then suddenly, Sukuna feels like he can't let this moment go, not without something to capture it more clearly than his mediocre memory ever could.

The flash from his phone is almost blinding but he can't turn it off because it's unreal the way you look on camera. Skin shining from sweat under the bright light, an arm thrown over your eyes to shield them. Your tits are on full display, bouncing with each rough thrust from the man grunting behind the scenes.

"Come on, baby," Sukuna groans, "say it for the camera. Lemme hear you again."

You would probably be nervous again if it wasn't for the fact that you're teetering on the edge of your climax for the third time tonight and all you care about is feeling as good as Sukuna made you feel earlier. You want him to reduce you into nothing more than a babbling mess, ensuring you don't need to think or speak because you know he'll give you everything you need, because of course he knows what that is. He's always paid such good attention to you, he doesn't even have to try to understand exactly what's going through your head.

"Be a good girl for your dad, huh? Don't you wanna cum?" Sukuna's pace slows just enough for your attention to snap from your thoughts, your wide eyes blinking up at the camera he's still shining in your face.

"Yeah," you nod, your eyebrows pinching together. You hope he doesn't stop. You need him to not stop.

Sukuna runs a hand up your side, brushing over your breast and giving it a light squeeze that makes you wiggle underneath his hips.

"Fuck, aah—dad, please!" you whine when he pinches your nipple, rolling it firmly between two fingers.

"Atta girl…" he groans, kneading your tit in his rough palm one last time before his hand returns to your sore hip. "Love when you call me that."

It's like a flip switched in your brain and you've regressed back into the most desperate version of yourself, your eyes not leaving Sukuna's when he starts drilling you into the mattress again. The picture in his video is shaky and blurry, but it's okay because the audio is still picking up on the best part—

"Oh god, dad! D-Dad, 'm gonna cum!"

"Do it," Sukuna snaps, breathless, "squirt all over my dick like the last time. Show the camera how fuckin' messy my daughter's pussy gets."

His daughter.

That's the part that sends you over the edge this time. He always insists that you call him dad, but you rarely hear him call you his daughter.

Your stomach flips with pride as your walls constrict around Sukuna's length one more time, stealing another moan from the man. And when your muscles tense and start to tremble, your hands clawing at the sheets, Sukuna has half a mind to bury himself inside you and steady the video for once. He angles his phone straight down to where your bodies connect just in time to see you cum. With the flash on, it's impossible to miss the way you squirt around him, the liquid release splashing all over the both of you.

"Ahh shit, I'm gonna cum too."

And he probably should have pulled out, Sukuna knows that. He shouldn't have came inside your sweet pussy like he did. He shouldn't have fucked you in the first place. Hell, he shouldn't have even kissed you.

But if he didn't do all those things, then he wouldn't have gotten to see the way you looked after he fucked you nearly to sleep. The expression on your face was of pure bliss as you were overcome with exhaustion. Your legs were spread when he pulled away and the video perfectly captured your pulsing cunt, all slick and puffy, his cum oozing out of the poor abused hole.

The same pussy that was virgin just a couple of hours ago, now claimed as his after being stretched to his size and filled with his seed.

No amount of guilt can withstand being washed away after a sight like that—he'll fuck his pretty stepdaughter again and again to see it even just one more time.

A sweet little thing that his new wife had conveniently failed to mention to him when he proposed. When he found out about you after the papers had been signed and the rings exchanged, his first thought was that you'd be just another pain in his ass—like your lying mother.

Or "selectively truthful" as she put it one time.

But then you'd arrived back from college in a dangerous sun dress with a smile on your face that faltered the instant you saw the outline of Toji's hulking frame at the top of your stairs.

"Who's that?" your voice was smooth as honey, the soft cadence traveling straight to the old man's groin.

"That's Toji, dear. My new husband. I told you about him, didn't I?" Your mother had never once mentioned him to you either.

You were polite, introducing yourself to him and even offering your hand out for a shake. Toji gladly took it, his calloused fingers enveloping your comparably small hand and he squeezed hard. Hard enough for you to wince from the pain, and yet, you didn't pull away.

You just stood there, enduring it until he decided to let go of you. And that's when he decided that you were interesting enough for him to pay attention to you.

Things were different with Toji around the house.

A place that was once comfortable and easy to navigate became new territory because you were never sure where he was going to show up next.

Usually he is in the kitchen, so early in the morning that the whole street is quiet. He always has the window propped open as he leans against the counter, nursing a beer in silence. Sometimes you notice a new scrape or bruise decorating his skin but you never comment on it.

That’s how you find Toji now.

His bottom lip is split, the flesh slightly swollen. When he spots you, his tongue flicks out to lick at the wound, wiping away some dried blood as his gaze settles on you.

"What're you doin' up?" he asks before you can say anything.

"Couldn't sleep."

He offers you a small nod before downing the rest of his drink. Your eyes are fixated on the way his Adam's apple bobs with every swallow, a singular drop of liquid trickling out the corner of his mouth.

Somewhere along the way, you became less intimidated by him and more curious.

Toji is aware of this shift too as he watches you through narrowed eyelids. Normally you would have left by now, retreating to your bedroom lest you spend more time with him than necessary.

Now, you just stand there, your arms hugging your body as a breeze coasts through the kitchen.

He tosses the bottle in the trash before pushing himself off the counter with a grunt.

You worry for a split second that he's leaving. You're not sure why you care, but a part of you is hoping he stays instead of going back to bed. Then, you're stuttering out a question before you can think, stopping Toji in his tracks.

"Where were you?"

The weight of his gaze is heavier than anything you've felt before, the intensity of it sending a chill down your spine. And Toji just forces you to endure it for a moment.

He notices the way your little slip dress is billowing around your thighs and the way your arms have shifted lower, exposing your chest to him. Your nipples have pebbled under the silky fabric and Toji's eyes linger for longer than what's appropriate as a stepfather before cutting back up to yours.

"That's really none of your business, doll." In your outfit you really look like one too. Your features seem softer in the dim light, your fatigue accentuating its effect. "Your mom in bed?"

You nod.

Toji hums while he holds your gaze, tension thick between you two. Your throat feels dry but you don't want a glass of water. For some reason, you feel a need to prove yourself to Toji.

In all these moments that you share together in the early hours of the morning, you always get the sense that he's looking down at you. Like you're still just his wife's kid that he's now stuck with. The girl who he can't tell anything to because she can't be trusted, or maybe he just thinks you're too young to understand. Thinks you can't possibly relate to him in any way.

But you don't need to relate to him, that's not what you want.

"Do you have any more beer?"

Toji's eyebrows raise a bit and you take that as a confirmation of what you assumed he thought about you.

"You don't drink beer," he states matter-of-factly. You wish that didn't upset you as much as it does.

"I can drink beer."

"I don't doubt you can, but that's not what I said."

You mull over his words silently, chewing the inside of your cheek. "I want one," you insist, "please?"

Toji sighs but opens the fridge anyways. "Go sit down on the couch and throw somethin' on the TV, I'll be there in a minute." He's pulling out two more beer bottles from the case, setting them on the counter while you're still lingering.

You finally scurry off when he shoots you an annoyed look.

The couch sinks under your weight, the cushion old and worn. You're being swallowed by the furniture piece as you flick through the channels on TV until Toji returns, both beer bottles in one hand.

He sighs loudly as he plops himself down next to you, the exertion from his earlier job catching up to him.

"Here," he holds his hand out toward you. You reach for one of the bottles but he pulls back quickly. "Not that one, already drank from it."

"Oh, sorry." You grab the other, peering down the neck like you'd be able to see anything before giving it a sniff.

Toji is rigid, watching you closely as you inspect the bottle.

But then you just give him a sheepish smile, a little embarrassed that he's seeing you be so apprehensive about a beer. You're just not sure what to expect. You never cared for drinking before and you're only doing this to try and get closer to Toji.

Eventually he looks away, getting bored of your performance.

So you take a swig like you've seen him do countless times before, and the liquid sloshes into your mouth. Bitter and carbonated, it makes you cough.

"Is it bad?" Toji questions while he lifts his hips off the couch, adjusting his seat to get more comfortable. You stare at him while his legs fall open, man-spreading to the point where his thigh is pressed up against yours.

"No," you fib. Toji knows it's not the truth but still he likes that you're trying to convince him that you have something in common. "It's good."

"Yeah, you like it?" The grin on Toji's face is wicked, and it almost makes you admit your lie but you stand your ground.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment and Toji sips his beer.

"Then you gonna drink it or let it go flat and waste my money?"

His hand wraps around your own that's holding your bottle and guides it to your parted lips. He tips it just enough for you to have a sip, watching your throat to check that you swallow. And then he tips it further.

Toji holds the glass lip up to yours, pouring beer steadily into your mouth. You keep swallowing repeatedly, desperately trying to keep chugging so the drink doesn't spill but you're not fast enough.

And eventually you can't keep up, choking and sputtering on the beer that Toji doesn't stop pouring.

You somehow manage to down most of it which impresses him. But amber liquid still trickles out the corners of your mouth, down your neck and onto your chest.

"There ya go. Tastes good, doesn't it?"

You gasp when he finally pulls away and you can breathe normally. Your stomach feels upset from all the bubbles and you let out a tiny hiccup while you wipe your lips.

Toji's eyes haven't left you since he sat down, and you wonder what the reason is for the sudden intensity. You're not sure you've even seen him blink.

Fidgeting in your seat, you smack your lips together a few times. Your tongue feels a bit tingly and your head a bit fuzzy.

"Toji?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"I feel… weird," you mumble. Your words are hard to get out, a task both physically and mentally laborious. Your mind struggles to piece the letters you need into the words that you want to string together.

When he doesn't reply, you try again. Maybe he didn't hear you.

"Feels…" you pant, short of breath, "bad. Hot."

You're sweating through your slip, the thin fabric becoming damp as you slump over.

"Just lay down like that," Toji finishes his beer then tugs on your legs until they're resting over his lap and you're laying on your back.

You think you must be sinking into the couch, every limb in your body feeling incredibly heavy. Certainly too much for you to lift on your own.

How kind of Toji to help you then, you think as he adjusts you once more, spreading your legs further apart.

Deep within your hazy mind, you realize what he's doing when his hand cups your mound. His fingers press against your wet panties, pushing into your cunt as far as the fabric will allow.

You want him.

It feels good when he touches you.

You want to tell Toji that too, but all you manage is a weak moan. Your eyes struggle to focus on the blurred outline of him.

"You're soakin', doll," Toji muses, lightly slapping your clothed pussy a few times. "You like when your step daddy does what he wants with you?"

Speaking is too much work so you try to nod to give him an answer, but your head just lolls to the side and now you're staring at the blurred glow of the TV.

Toji huffs out a laugh through his nose at you and then moves your head to look at him again before returning his hand to your cunt.

He rubs you slowly through your underwear, relishing in the little whimpers you let out when he grazes over your clit.

More.

You want more.

Whatever Toji slipped into your drink did nothing to quell your desire for him, if anything, you feel needier. Your whole body aches but the space at the apex of your thighs hurts the most. Your pussy just feels so empty, and all you want is for Toji to fill you up.

You groan softly. You're determined to use every last ounce of your energy to get what you want.

"Tell me what you need, baby."

"I-in…" you falter, catching your breath before trying again. "In…side."

"Inside here?" Toji asks, adding pressure to his motions as his hand continues to glide between your legs.

He knows what you meant. In fact, Toji knew what you wanted the minute you walked into the kitchen this morning. He didn't have to drug you, he's sure you would have been obedient enough if he decided to fuck you.

But Toji always likes to play with his food a little first. Whether that be an actual meal on his plate, a target for a job, or a woman he wants to ruin—it doesn't matter.

Your sweaty brow furrows, confused as to what you're feeling. Toji had pulled your panties aside, the cool air hitting your exposed pussy and making you shiver. But then instead of feeling the warmth of skin against your wet slit, it's something cold and hard.

You would have panicked and protested if you weren't so sedated. Your hands would have pushed at Toji's and your hips would have jerked away. Maybe you would have told him to stop, said that you didn't want him to put that thing inside you. And that's exactly why he spiked your drink.

Toji just wants to have his fun too, that's all.

When he presses the beer bottle into your tight hole, it takes a bit more force to open you up than his fingers or his cock would have. The glass, being so rigid, doesn't slide in as easily, and it doesn't help that your body still seems to be reacting. Your cunt is clenching forcefully, trying to keep it out as you twitch.

Your expression contorts in a million different ways, each one expressing a different level of discomfort.

Even to your drugged mind it feels weird, wrong, as Toji forces the rest of the bottleneck inside you. He almost debates pressing it even further, giving your tiny cunt a much bigger stretch, but he'll take it easy on you tonight.

Instead he just starts to pump the glass in and out of you with a languid rhythm, admiring the way it's getting coated in your juices. Toji wonders what kinds of sounds you'd be making if you were more coherent, what kinds of words you'd spit at him.

Would you plead with him to stop?

Or would you just let him have his way? Enduring his sick form of entertainment in hopes of him getting bored again and leaving you alone.

Or maybe you'd surprise him and beg for him to keep going, to give you more of whatever he wants as long as you're stuffed full.

With the way your pussy is still soaked, he's starting to think it might be the last one.

"Always thought that innocent girl thing was just an act," Toji speaks more to himself, knowing you likely can hardly understand him at this point in your high. "Just couldn't prove it. But here you are, slutty pussy fuckin' dripping all over a beer bottle."

There's a little squelch when he pushes the glass back in a bit faster and he laughs because it's just ridiculous. Young pussy always gets so fucking sloppy.

But he can't deny that you have him hooked. Every time the TV shines a bit brighter, he's given the most beautiful view. Your breasts show through your dress as your chest heaves, your breathing haggard. Your plush thighs look so soft, they feel so soft as he runs a hand up one.

And you have the prettiest pussy. Glistening lips parting around the bottleneck, swallowing the inches so well now that Toji got you all loosened up.

When Toji finally slides the bottle out of you, he twists his wrist to get a better look at the slick that's covering it. Then he brings it to his lips, letting his tongue run along the glass until he's cleaned up every last bit of you.

It's while he's tasting you that Toji decides he's not going to fuck you tonight. Just the flavor of you was enough to tell him that he'd be missing out if he did.

Next time he'll keep you awake so you can really feel one another when he sinks his cock into you, and this time he'll settle for your hand.

Toji stands beside the couch, his shorts and briefs pooled at his feet while he takes your limp hand in his, curling it around his shaft. The minute he feels your palm sliding down his length, so much softer than his own, his balls are already twitching.

He holds your hand in place, beginning to roll his hips and rut into your fist.

"Juuust like that, doll," he groans, thrusting faster. "You're makin' me feel so good."

You're passed out by this point, unaware of the praise that your stepdad is throwing your way while he fucks your fist. But if you were awake you'd be over the moon.

Your cheeks would be hot as his words went to your head, pride swelling in your chest.

Toji makes you squeeze him harder as he gets closer to his release, his head falling back with a low moan as a million images replay in his mind.

You standing in the kitchen in your slip dress, wide eyed and looking up at him. You sitting in front of the TV, watching him hopefully as he approaches with your drinks. You moaning on the couch, whimpering as he inserted the bottle. And your sleeping form, shimmering with sweat as you unknowingly pleasure him.

Each sight was better than the last, though he'll make sure they're all stored securely in his mind. Mementos of this night for him to look back on whenever he's feeling particularly needy, until he can collect more.

"Shit, baby, I'm gonna cum," Toji grunts, his movements becoming erratic before he stills.

The notes you tried to take are smudged, the ink blurred from your damp hands passing over the paper. 

"Sir?" Your voice wavers as your stomach cramps. You have to tense every muscle in your body to keep yourself from having an accident right here in your seat. 

Silence ensues for a moment as Nanami pauses in the middle of his sentence to stare at you. The sight alone makes his cock throb. You look like you're unraveling. 

Your skin is glossy and your eyes look wild, your leg won't stop bouncing under the desk. He can even see the way your chest is heaving in that blouse you chose—such a pretty one too, it's unfortunate that it's become wrinkled and wet from your nervous sweats.

"What is it?" 

"May I be excused for a moment?" The sentence comes out broken and strained from the effort it's taking you to control your bladder.

"No, we're almost done here. Then you'll be free to go." 

Dickhead.

And of course it's a lie. Fifteen minutes later and the meeting doesn't even seem to be close to wrapping up, all the men laughing and talking amongst themselves, straying far from the original topic. Though you can't pay them any attention because you've now got your head in your hands, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.

You're not going to make it.

You look through your fingers and meet Nanami's piercing gaze. The intensity makes your stomach swirl and when his focus trails down to where your legs are clamped together, your situation no longer feels so bad—he makes you feel better.

You know he’s lingering, watching you closely because he's waiting.

You're relaxing under his eye before you even realize it. And then there's a distinct warmth that's spreading, starting at the apex of your thighs and trickling down. It's seeping into your clothes and onto the seat beneath you, but you can't even be bothered to care about the uncomfortable wetness when the relief feels so fucking good.

A quiet sigh slips past your lips as your eyelids flutter, and Nanami is now fully hard inside his slacks. Part of him wasn't sure if you'd actually do it—piss yourself here in the office, surrounded by your boss and coworkers. 

And they don't even have a clue. Though some seem confused when you don't stand to shake their hands when the meeting concludes, they simply shrug your behavior off when you start aimlessly organizing your desk.

"You surprised me today," Nanami muses, shutting the door behind the last of his attendees. He palms at his crotch, adjusting himself as he stalks over to you. "Let me see you." 

You slide back in your chair, turning to face him before gingerly spreading your legs apart. The grey fabric of your skirt is darkened with urine and although your tights are black you can feel how they're clinging to your skin.

Nanami clicks his tongue at you, shaking his head lightly. "Look at you… you made a mess of yourself, huh?" 

"I know, I—I'm sorry, sir." 

He leans over you with a hand on an arm of your chair, caging you in as he slips his other hand between your thighs. Prodding at you, Nanami feels the wetness of your ruined clothes beneath his fingertips, the corners of his lips quirking up before he pulls them back down. 

You're squirming in your seat, avoiding his gaze as he cups your sex. His hand is warm against you, the feeling of his touch lighting a spark low in your belly which causes you to lift your hips slightly, grinding against his palm.

"You did well today." Nanami huddles in closer to you, his lips brushing against the curve of your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. His hand presses harder, rubbing up and down your clothed pussy. "Even though you're completely soiled… how disgusting." 

Your breath hitches each time he slides over your clit, applying even more pressure when he notices how sensitive you already are for him. "You’re disgusting, aren't you?" 

Leaning your head to the side, you give him more access to your neck and goosebumps pepper your skin when Nanami runs his tongue along the column of it.

"I am," you breathe, the words sounding more like a soft whine. "I'm disgusting I know. I'm so sorry, sir." 

You feel him smile against you, but then he's pulling away. "Filthy bitch," he spits, his tone harsh before softening. "You're going to make it up to me, right?" 

Nanami retracts his hand and you whimper at the loss. Lifting the limb to his nose, he inhales deeply, taking in the scent of your arousal and piss. You're watching expectantly for a reaction, curious as to what he'll think but he doesn't let on much. Instead, he brings his fingers to your lips and forces them into your mouth.

The bitter taste lands on your tongue as you swirl it around his digits, earning a low groan from your boss before he pushes them further. You gag around him when his knuckles hit your teeth.

Tonight, he lands a hard smack across your face when you take too long to sink to the floor after he lets you in his apartment. "Y’know I hate when you make me wait," he's whining like he's the one in pain.

You swear you can feel your knees aching already from the previous week when you position yourself before his feet. 

"Yeah, good girl," the rare praise works just enough for you to let your guard down, yelping in surprise when he slaps you once more on each cheek, snapping your head left and right. A drunken laugh bubbles up out of his chest as he taps your face a couple more times. "Missed you tonight," he slurs, swiping his thumb along your lip. 

You've done this song and dance enough times to know to open your mouth for him, allowing Choso to push the digit past your teeth. He groans when you gently suck on his thumb, twirling your tongue around it hungrily.

Fiddling with his belt, Choso makes quick work of his pants, letting them fall in a bunch around his feet. He doesn't bother to step out of them since he won't be moving far, only sitting on the edge of his bed.

His dick is just as pretty each time you see it. Never shaved, it hangs heavy in a mess of pubes that your nose is buried in all too often. The pale tip is always flushed pink and dripping by the time he pulls it out for you, anticipating the feeling of your hot mouth wrapped around it. 

Because fuck, you really give the best head. Why else would he still text you every week?

With a hand gripping the base, Choso slaps his length on your face. The stiff shaft hits your cheeks, your lips, your eyes, sometimes leaving a drop of pre in its wake. 

"Can't believe you let me do this shit to you," Choso sounds both disappointed and amused, his tone making your cheeks burn hotter from embarrassment than from the impact of his palm colliding with them. 

The worst part is you know he's serious. 

It's like half of the game is seeing if any time will ever be the last time with you. He wonders when you'll finally reach your limit and block his number. Probably not any time soon.

You're still as eager to suck his cock as the first time you hooked up. Hollowing your cheeks around him, your lips are completely sealed as you bob your head furiously. You flatten your tongue, allowing it to just glide along the underside, licking the vein that runs up it—you know he loves when you do that. His grip on the back of your head always gets tighter and he bucks his hips more roughly.

He gets meaner too. 

With his words, when he slips in those sharp commands, telling you to sit still so he can just fuck your face and use you how he wants because it's all you're good for. 

He likes watching the way you choke around him when he holds your head down, keeping his whole length stuffed deep inside your throat. You just get so filthy. Gagging and coughing around him, spit trickling out of your mouth and mascara running down your face. Your hands claw at his thighs but he can't tell if you're pushing him away from you or trying to drag him closer.

Eventually he yanks you off of him, allowing you a moment to catch your breath because you already know what comes next. 

"Can we not tonight?" you ask but you know it's futile. 

In fact, all your dumb question earns you is another hard smack to your face. The skin is stinging when Choso pulls his hand away, bringing it back to your nape.

"I'm sorry," he's not. "You know I hate doing that to you," he loves it. 

He shifts to the edge of the bed, letting his legs fall open before propping a foot up. "Just be good and get me off… I'm tired tonight." His voice sounds so soft that you start to believe he really is just exhausted.

With that, he's guiding you to the apex of his thighs, nuzzling your face between the muscled limbs while he holds his cock up in his free hand. The smell of musk and sweat is strong and familiar, causing you to wet your lips again quickly before lolling your tongue out.

The slippery muscle finds its way to Choso's rim, circling the taut skin languidly as he throws his head back. 

"Keep going, y'know how I like it," he groans, beginning to stroke himself. His fingers curl tightly around his dick, using your spit to glide up and down the shaft with a steady rhythm as you work him over. 

He always cums so fast this way. You get him all sensitive and painfully hard with your throat, to the point where he's already teetering on the edge but it's not enough.

It used to be. 

Until he found out that you’ll do all the things that other girls won’t do to him. So perfectly submissive—or maybe desperate is more accurate. 

Now he won't let himself cum until he's got your mouth pressed up to his ass, your tongue sliding around his rim. Sometimes he feels it just barely dip past his entrance and he can't bite back the loud moans that follow. 

You let him force you into this every week, pleasuring him however he tells you to until he reaches his climax. When he cums, it's in his hand, hot white ropes shooting out of his fist and usually landing in your hair or on your back. You've stopped asking him to aim elsewhere because he doesn't listen to you, that's not how your relationship works.

Then comes the part where Choso sends you home to end your night alone with a silicone toy pressed up to your clit. He offers a lackluster "later” when you head out, not bothering to see you out. 

Sukuna never tried to hide his lack of morals from anyone, wearing the trait instead as a badge of honor. He reveled in the way others would whisper about him as they watched him out of the corner of their eye, steering their daughters away from him because they knew what he was like. Everyone saw the way he looked at you, his own daughter—lidded eyes that stared for longer than they should, shamelessly ogling what he considered to be the best parts of you. 

When his friends would comment about how well you "filled out" after you grew up, he wouldn't chide them. He'd just laugh and agree. 

"She's mine, course she looks good." 

What people didn't see was how much you fed into his behavior. It was a secret piece of knowledge that Sukuna kept to himself, not wanting to risk it getting out to the wrong people… like your mother. 

You were the only good thing that came from his union with "that woman," as he called her. 

His perfect daughter that never wore pants around the house, opting instead for a pair of panties and a tank top. You were so sweet to him, bending over in the fridge to give him a nice show while he had his breakfast. Sleeping naked with the door opened so when jerked off he could get a view of your bare pussy, still slick from touching yourself—preferring his hand and the idea of his daughter over the body of his wife. 

But as perfect as you are, you sure as shit know how to piss your old man off. 

Veins are bulging in his hand from how hard he's gripping his phone, glaring down at the screen as he replays the video you sent him for the fifth time. Your high pitched moans are flowing from the speaker, all whiny and desperate, as whoever you're with points the camera right at the place where he's sliding inside you. The flash is on, giving Sukuna almost too good of a view of the way your virgin cunt is swallowing the boy's underwhelming length. 

Slut.

That was the first word that came to his mind when he'd opened your message—"my first time :)"

"Home. Now." He'd replied curtly. 

Your knees are aching from being pressed into the floorboards for so long, but they don't hurt nearly as much as your jaw which has been stretched wide for the same amount of time. Sukuna pushed you to his feet less than a minute after you walked through the door, slapping you once across the face with a single command to 'open up.' 

The gags coming from where you're choking on his dick between his legs are merely a distraction as he watches the pathetic way you're getting fucked on camera. 

"You could've just asked if ya wanted your daddy to fuck you like a whore," Sukuna's anger is evident in his tone and the way he presses his cock impossibly harder into the back of your throat. 

Your nose is buried in his untrimmed bush, his natural musk filling your nose as you struggle to breathe. Drool is already spilling from your lips and down to his heavy balls from how long you've been forced to cockwarm the man with your little mouth. 

Sukuna finally closes out of the video, opting to open his own camera now. He makes sure you're captured in the middle of the frame, the flash on as well so he can see the pretty tears in your eyes, the sweat on your skin, the way his dick is shoved between his bratty daughter's lips. "You look good like this, baby. On your knees, mouth filled with my cock," Sukuna muses. "Got you to shut up too. Might have to show Fushiguro."

Sukuna grins wickedly when he sees the way your eyes widen. You don't know what you'd do if a photo like that got out—the tell-tale tattoos around your father's thighs being particularly incriminating. 

"What? Now you don't like bein' in the spotlight?" he goads, pulling you off of him until just the tip rests on your tongue. You're coughing immediately, but the second you're about to take your first real breath of air, Sukuna is thrusting back down your throat.

"Yeah, get my dick nice and wet like that—gonna regret it if you don't. Means it'll hurt more when I fuck your ass." 

"Mmmfg!" is what your strangled attempt at protest sounds like. Even if you could get a word out, Sukuna wouldn't listen. You lost the right to him treating you nicely when you pulled your stupid stunt. 

"You wanna go 'round whoring yourself out on camera, then you'll get fucked the way you deserve," Sukuna all but snarls at you before finally yanking you off of him for good. With one last shove, he sends you tumbling into the ground at his feet.

You hit the floor hard, your palms stinging from attempting to catch yourself. The whole time, Sukuna just stands there. With his cock in his hand, he's pumping himself slowly as he gets off on the way your naked form is sprawled out before him, trying to recuperate. "Face down, ass up, and spread yourself open f'me." 

You scramble to do as he says, not daring to talk back with how stern his voice is. When you're finally presenting yourself to Sukuna how he asked, he wastes no time kneeling behind you, the head of his cock already kissing your entrance. 

"Wait, dad, condom." You remember when you feel the warmth of his tip rubbing along your slit, smearing his pre into the arousal that already gathered there from him using your mouth. 

"You really gonna tell your old man to wrap it up? Don't act like a fuckin' prude when I know you didn't use one with that kid." 

He's right. But it's not the same, because 'that kid' isn't Sukuna. He isn't your own flesh and blood like the man behind you, slamming into your sweet cunt with a single punishing motion. 

Your face rubs painfully against wood floor as you're sent forward with the force of his thrust. "Aah, fuck!" you wail, but Sukuna dismisses you immediately. The weak "Ow…" you let out after must have sounded too close to a moan for him to care. 

The way your pussy feels so good around his dick almost makes Sukuna want to go easy on you, remembering how much he cares about his daugther. 

Almost.

And then remembers that he's not the first person to know what your cunt feels like, and any hopes of being shown mercy from your dad melt away. He sets a pace so brutal that you're trying to crawl away from him, only for him to grab your hips tighter and pull you back. Judging by the footage of your only experience, Sukuna knows you can't handle it and that only makes him want to go harder. 

You're whimpering so cutely, cheeks wet from tears and your lips from the saliva that keeps spilling from them. Everything burns. The stretch from your dad's fat cock inside your tight pussy, your already sore knees now starting to bruise, your neck stiffening as your head is bent at an uncomfortable angle. There's no plush mattress, no cushiony pillows to make you feel better as Sukuna pounds you into the floor so hard you think it might splinter into your skin. 

Through it all, there's nothing you can do to prevent the lewd sounds that are slipping out of your mouth with a messy amount of drool that only makes you look even more like a pornstar. Deep down, you love this, he knows you do. You internalize all the insults that Sukuna throws your way because it makes the occasional praise he sings sound that much louder. Just as with the immense pain he's inflicting upon you, it only serves to make the pleasure that much better. 

Your orgasm is building too quick for your own brain to keep up, rapidly reducing you to a puddle of moans and cries for the man that's destroying you.

"Daddy! I—ohh fuck, I'm," you mewl, eyes rolling back as your cunt starts to throb around Sukuna's girth.

"Yeah, I know," Sukuna grunts. Your hazy mind can hardly comprehend what he's doing when you feel him shifting around you. He adjusts his position with his cock inside you until your face is being trapped against the hardwood, pinned underneath Sukuna's bare foot. 

The new angle is too much. No longer rutting forward into you, Sukuna is slamming down onto you, splitting you in half on his cock as he forces it unbelievably deeper inside you. 

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, I can't," you sob, chest heaving as you cry harder. "Too deep, dad, wait—" 

"Save it," he snaps at you. "This cunt is cryin' more than you, I know ya love getting used like the pretty slut you are. You're fucked in the head just like me." 

He's not wrong. Within moments you're cumming so hard that you think you might pass out, your legs shaking uncontrollably as Sukuna finally starts to slow down. 

"See? Makin' a god damn mess too." Sukuna sneers as he watches the way your pussy is starting to leak, creamy white slick coating his shaft as he slides out of you. "Your mom would be disappointed to know you turned out this way."

"Fuck off," you groan tiredly, not able to be bothered to care what your mother would think when you just had the best orgasm of your life. 

Sukuna chuckles as he steps off your head, moving instead to rub his hand between your folds, gathering your slick on two fingers. You wake up more when you feel him circling the rim of your asshole, prodding at the tight entrance with every couple swipes. 

"No, don't. I don't want to… not today," you try, having a feeling you wouldn't change Sukuna's mind.

He rolls his eyes, confirming your suspicions when he lazily pushes both fingers into your ass, ignoring the loud whine from you. "You say that but you don't mean it, look how well you're takin' these fingers. Can tell you want more." Sukuna slips his hand out of you before replacing them with the tip of his dick. "I know what my little girl needs." 

It's almost adorable the way your asshole clenches like that would stop him from fucking it. And the way you whimper another 'dad please, don't." Pathetic. 

When Sukuna presses his cock inside your tightest hole it's with an agonizing stretch. He didn't give you nearly enough prep to comfortably take someone of his size, and all of the cum and spit that's coating his monstrous length is doing nothing to ease the intrusion. 

A sound halfway between a scream and a croak escapes you as you crumble under Sukuna's weight, slumping into the hard floor beneath you for the second time tonight. 

"You need to loosen up, kid," he grunts, both hands spreading your cheeks apart to get a better view of his dick nudging inside your ass. The skin is taut and he can see the muscles tensing, trying to keep him out. It's causing him such difficulty that he wonders if it's even worth it as the friction starts to spread some of your pain to him. 

But it's the only part of you that hasn't been corrupted yet, and he'll be damned if another man gets to it first. 

"Fuck, it hurts," more tears pour from your eyes, dripping onto the ground below you. "Dad, I'm—am I bleeding?" You have to ask with the way it feels like you're being torn apart—you won't be surprised if the answer is yes.

"Nah, I'd fit inside a lot easier if you were though. Maybe you should," Sukuna muses, grinning when you writhe in his grip, trying to adjust to his size. "What, you don't want that?"

You're not even sure what you want. 

You want this all to be over. You want Sukuna to leave you alone and pretend you never started this whole thing. But you also want him to make you feel good in every way that he knows how, even when it hurts and you're not sure you can take it.

Because your knees are not only bruised but now scraped from sliding roughly against the wood with each thrust you had to endure. Your throat is sore from crying and shouting and gagging on your dad's cock. And still, your pussy is so soaked that it's leaking around nothing, producing more slick as Sukuna's hips inch to yours, until you're flush together once more.

"Never felt anything this tight," Sukuna groans, his entire length now buried inside your ass. It's so warm and squeezing him perfectly, he's not sure he'll ever want to fuck anything else again. With an experimental roll of his hips, his dick feels like it's pressing all the way into your stomach, making you whimper and squirm. 

The pressure is unparalleled. He's everywhere, overwhelming you from the inside out until all you can think of is him. 

All you can smell is his cologne and sweat. All you can hear are his grunts and groans, the sound of his skin slapping against yours when he pulls out half way before slamming back in. And all you can feel are his fingers digging into your flesh, his girth spreading you open so wide and deep that it's dizzying. 

"Play with yourself for me, baby." His voice is raspy, laced with exertion and strain from trying to hold himself together. Your body fits him much better than your mom's. "Told ya to loosen the fuck up," he lands a searing slap to your ass that makes you yelp. 

You have to lean onto your shoulder in order to snake a hand under you, reaching for your clit with a weak finger. Your neck is stiff, crooked at an awkward angle, and the poor thing feeling like it's going to snap when you try to look between your legs as your fumble around. Sukuna's moving faster now, reaching a steady rhythm that only serves to throw you off as you try to touch yourself. 

But eventually you find it—the right amount of pressure on that perfect spot which brings you just enough pleasure to forget all the ways in which your body feels like it's falling apart. Finally you relax just the slightest bit, allowing Sukuna to rut into you easier.

"Thaaat's it. See, feels good when you listen to your daddy." 

"Mmhng," you mewl, unable to find your words. You can't bring yourself to focus on anything more than trying to breathe through your punishment until you can get rewarded with another climax. 

"You let that boy fuck you here?" He already knows the answer.

"N-no," you reply, your voice shaking.

"Good," Sukuna growls. "Stupid girl. Fuckin' pissed me off today," he emphasizes the sentiment with another harsh slap to your ass. He puts all his strength into it, watching as the skin immediately starts to well up. 

He knows he's broken you completely when you don't even cry out at the impact, instead your breath just catches in your throat, followed by a sniffle. 

Tears and snot stain your face. Spit keeps pooling in your mouth and it seems like you're never able to swallow it all down, leaving some saliva to constantly dribble out between your lips and onto your chin. 

"Need a picture of this next time, should see how well this ass is takin' my dick. Knew we'd be perfect together." Sukuna is rambling on now, lost in his own thoughts as you're lost in your second approaching orgasm. "Made these holes just for me. No one else." 

Sukuna can feel the blood rushing in his ears, drowning out the rest of the room. He's teetering on the cusp of his orgasm, only holding on by a thread because he wants to bask in the feeling of you for as long as he can. 

But then you're cumming again. Shuddering and gasping on the floor as your arousal seeps onto your hand, sticky and warm. Your muscles tighten up so much it makes Sukuna hiss as you clamp down around his cock and he knows he's done for. 

"Should breed that pretty pussy, fill you up. You want that?" In a twisted sort of way, it's comical how quickly you panic, snapping out of your cockdrunk haze at his threat. 

"No! Please no, dad, you can't," you beg him, trying to appeal to the side of him that you know loves you as his favorite and only daughter. 

"You're lucky this hole feels so good," Sukuna grumbles, "fuck but you'd look so good pregnant with my kid—might even give me another girl. You don't wanna share your daddy with a sister?" 

You don't. You don't want to share him with anyone. That much is clear when you feel his hips still, his balls twitching once before he's spilling inside you. It's a weird but addictive feeling when warm spurts of cum begin to coat your insides, making it easy for Sukuna to finally slide out of you. 

The worst part of you wishes that your mom wasn't even in the picture. You would be fine with just Sukuna to take care of you, relying only on him and knowing that he only has you too. 

"Shit, look at that," Sukuna breathes, admiring the way your gaping hole is now leaking white spend. It's thick and slow as it slides down towards your cunt. 

He can't help himself when he reaches forward, gathering as much of his seed as he can onto his fingers and pushing them inside your pussy. Sukuna doesn't stop until he's reached the last knuckle, reaching as deep as he can. 

"What…" you cough, the fatigue finally catching up to you as your eyelids grow heavy. "What are you doing?"

"Just couldn't waste it," Sukuna murmurs, pumping his fingers languidly in and out of you. You look so spent, your skin bruised and red, your pussy lips all puffy and sore and smothered in slick. 

If you were all his, he'd make sure you looked like this everyday.

Come next morning when you wake up in your bed, your body shows the evidence of your night though red scratches and purple splotches. But you've been showered and tucked under the sheets, a testament to how gently Sukuna cleaned you up and brought you back to your room. It was confusing after he'd treated you so roughly. 

Maybe he felt bad.

But then you remember the way he pushed more and more of his release into your cunt despite your tired moans of protest. And when you try to tell yourself that it will be okay because it's different than if he'd really came inside you, you remember what he said when he laid you down for bed—about how he got your mom pregnant on their first night together.

Your fingers squeeze tight around his neck, digging into the skin and your lips quirk up at the strangled sound that Satoru makes. His own hands are now reaching for your wrists to yank you off of him and you use that exact moment to clench down around him. Your soft walls are strangling Satoru's cock harder than your violent grip around his throat.

It feels like you're trying to suck every inch of him back inside you, even as you lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is nestled between your folds. Then you drop back down onto his length so harsh and fast that you fall forward with a quiet moan, and he whimpers.

It's the tiniest sound, one so small and pathetic that you'd never imagine it could even be produced by someone of your dad's stature. 

You can't help but laugh, loud and mocking at Satoru's expense. Until his strong arms are wrapped around you, pinning you against his chest and forcing you to release your hold on him. 

He doesn't even grace you with a minute to process the change in position before his feet are planted on the bed beneath you and his hips are drilling into yours. Every time Satoru fucks up into you, he makes sure to pull you down too, meeting his own thrusts so that you have to feel all of him buried inside your pussy. 

Your whines get louder, slipping into his ear as you're tucked against him, unable to do anything but try to breathe through it while he ruins you. 

"What happened, not laughing anymore?" he teases, his breath hot as is fans against the side of your face. 

It's always like this when you're reminded how much bigger he is, how much stronger he is than you. You forget after spending the day together when he makes you giggle, talking to you so sweetly, doting on you like any other good father. And it hits like a slap in the face each time he shows you this other side of him.

"I hate you!" you cry as your eyes screw shut. "I ha—shit, oh god.”

"No you don't, baby." Satoru brings a hand up to the back of your head, cradling it against his body in a way that's so confusingly comforting and condescending. "You're so wet for me, hear it? You don't hate your dad, you love me." 

It's fucked up how right he is. No matter how he treats you, you're still going to be soaking his cock all the same. 

"I know my sweet girl just wants to make her dad feel good, I know she's trying." 

His words are almost convincing enough to seem genuine, especially when he tells you that he's "still proud of you anyways."

𖤓 by me : You and your boyfriend Yuji take a trip over summer break to your family’s rental home so he can finally meet your beloved dad Toji and brother Megumi.

-> hidden cameras/noncon filming, cheating, incest

𖤓 by @rvngd : [tba] ft. priest!Geto x witch!reader

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𖤓 by @pervile : [tba]

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