not realizing youâre talking to your ex-boyfriend!sukuna while drunk !
you were way too drunk and the sigma chi house was spinning.
the music thumped through the walls and your head felt light and fuzzy, but you were smiling anyway, red cup dangling from your fingers as you leaned against the wall for balance. your friends had disappeared ages ago and you didnât really mind.
thatâs when you saw him.
tall. pink hair. tattoos crawling up his arms. he looked really familiar but your drunk brain couldnât connect the dots. you just knew he was stupidly hot standing there by the stairs with his arms crossed.
you stumbled over with a bright smile.
âhi,â you said, voice soft and sweet. âyou have the prettiest eyes. like⊠scary pretty.â
sukuna looked down at you and his eyebrow raised, but he didnât move away. the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.
âyeah?â he asked, voice low.
you nodded, stepping closer until you were leaning into his space. he smelled so good. warm and a little sweet, just like someone you used to know.
âmhm. my ex had eyes like yours,â you mumbled, resting your forehead against his arm because the room wouldnât stop tilting. âhe was mean looking but really nice to me. i miss him a lot actually.â
sukuna stayed quiet, one big hand coming up to steady you by the waist so you wouldnât fall.
you kept talking, words spilling out easily now that someone was listening.
âwe broke up because i thought he didnât care enough but⊠he used to do the sweetest things. like bringing me coffee before class or letting me play with his hair even when he acted all tough about it.â you sighed softly. âi think i messed up. i still wear his hoodie to sleep sometimes.â
his grip on your waist tightened just a little.
âyouâre drunk,â he murmured.
âsuper drunk,â you agreed with a little laugh, tilting your head up to look at him again. âbut i mean it. he was the best. made me feel safe even when he was quiet and scary. you kinda look like him, itâs weird.â
sukuna let out a quiet breath that sounded almost like a laugh. he guided you through the crowd with a hand on your lower back, taking you upstairs without saying much. you didnât even question it. his room felt familiar but everything was blurry.
he sat you on the edge of his bed and grabbed a bottle of water, crouching down in front of you so you could drink it. his hand rested gently on your knee the whole time.
âyouâre really nice,â you whispered, eyes half closed. âmy ex was nice like this too. when nobody else was looking.â
he didnât answer right away. just brushed some hair out of your face with careful fingers and helped you lie down. when you reached out and grabbed his hand he paused.
âstay?â you asked softly.
sukuna sighed, but it was the soft kind. he sat on the edge of the bed and let you keep holding his hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles while you drifted off.
âyeah,â he said quietly, watching you fall asleep in his bed again. âiâm not going anywhere.â
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Boyfriend!Gojo who will always be the first one to suggest wearing matching outfits.
For one, he can buy any you like and as many as you'd like. It being from a suit and dress to pyjama bottoms and t-shirts.
You had mentioned it once before, the matching, fluffy, cute as hell hello kitty ones, a white and blue pair of fuzzy pants and black shirts.
Guess what he had laid on the bed the next evening.
After brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed you came out to see the exact set, in your size in the color you wanted right on your side.
Before you could get excited about them-
"Does it look good on me?"
That teasing tone and a chuckle right after it.
Boyfriend!Gojo who was wearing his part of the set already, a hand sliding under the loose t-shirt to rub a large palm across his toned abdomen, a white strip trailing downnnn and disappearing into the fuzzy fabric.
Boyfriend!Gojo who wasn't wearing any boxers underneath the blue hello kitty pants. Id say a good⊠z tier (hard) cock print was staring right up at you. Didn't help that a small wet splotch of precum was already making itself known.
Guess who got their dick sucked dry that night.
Boyfriend!Gojo
Boyfriend!Gojo who always held the door open for you, never letting you step out of the car without being there to give you his hand.
Boyfriend!Gojo who loved it when you clung to him in public, not being ashamed of some PDA. If you held his bicep, he made sure to flex it.
Boyfriend!Gojo who knew what you needed before you even did.
A sweet little treat with your coffee? There.
Some hair in your face or mouth you hadn't even realised was there? Fixed with a sweet caress.
After coming home from a tiring day and being pulled down on the couch and getting eaten out? Without a thought.
Boyfriend!Gojo who, speaking of eating out your cunt, was so good at it that it made his dick jealous- twitching and leaking while not being able to get inside that deliciously tight warmth his own tongue was occupying.
Boyfriend!Gojo who maybe was a bit too addicted to the taste of you after a long day.
Close to "home in three days, don't wash" level of obsessed.
Boyfriend!Gojo who gathered you up in his strong arms at any given chance, either carrying you or cuddling you like some oversized teddy bear he couldn't live without.
Boyfriend!Gojo who sent you pictures every day. No matter what you were doing that day or how many people were around.
Never a warning, never a spoiler.
A big fat dick dropped into your dms.
Shameless, i say.
But he loved making you flustered.
Yoon's notes: h..h..hey guys... a light lil hc i hope my blog doesnt get taken down for using tags lmao
art credits to @/kcokaine on tumblr, line divider by @/cursed-carmine, first gif divider by @/anitalenia, second gif divider by @/cafekitsune, pics from pinterest!
Sukuna and his possessive girl cat. She's always vying for his attention and never letting anyone come too close to him. That is, until she met you. Maybe, just maybe, you can be the one to win her over.
cw: SFW, fuff, girl cat Sukuna, domestic life with reader, reader is implied to be a PhD student, gender neutral reader, modern AU, established relationship, all characters are 18+, proofread, 1.3k wc!
a/n: I wanted to try something different, so here damn, take it LMFAO.... also fun fact! the thesis mentioned is a project I did for my bio class during my 2nd year! this was supposed to be a short fic.. it's longer than I wanted it to be but I couldn't stop writing </3 anyways enjoy!
a/n 2: I forgot to mention, but reader refers to the cat as "pip"; however, I decided against naming the cat after spending an hour trying to find a good name on redditâŠ.
It was late at night when Sukuna found her.Â
A damp cardboard box next to the trash compactor of his apartment complex, and inside was a ball of fur, curled into itself. Shivering from the cold, while the thin blankets barely did anything to keep her warm. The lamppost over his head flickered on and off, lighting up the pathway leading to the dark, filthy alleyway where she was.
The sound of his footsteps had her curious head peeking from under the blankets, and before he knew it, he was staring back at a pair of green feline eyes. Her brown fur was matted and wet, and her ears stood tall. His hands reached forward slowly, hesitantlyâonly to be followed by a hiss. However, the smell of his sandalwood perfume and his calm patience comforted her. With his hand open and welcoming, she nuzzled her face into his warm palm.
Soon enough, huddled beneath the warmth of his hoodie, she found her home. And Sukuna, who couldn't even take care of a rock, found himself becoming a cat dad overnight.Â
It took some time for her to ease up to him, to trust him, but little by little, with each treat and each scratch behind the ear, Sukuna won her over. She was one spoiled cat; that much was sure. After all, Sukuna could never find it in himself to say no to his pretty girlâwhether it was an extra treat, a new toy, or even a sparkly collar that caught her eye at the pet store.
She was a feisty cat, and a possessive one too. Ever since the day Sukuna took her in, she never left his side. Constantly vying for his attention with soft meows and her big eyes.
That is until you came into the picture.
With messy hair, clothes stained with coffee and a voice that brought a smile to his face.Â
You met on a gloomy day. The soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows became your company inside the quaint little cafe. The soft yellow lights highlighted your features, and your attention remained undivided as you stared attentively at the laptop in front of you.
The pull was magneticâat least for him. Even as he was giving his order, he couldn't help but keep his eyes on you, throwing a look over his shoulder every five secondsâa small, hopeful part of him waiting to catch your attention.
His gaze wandered across the room, and in a cafe that was hardly crowded, he chose to take the seat right in front of you. The scrap of chair legs against the floor had you looking up, only to be met with, most possibly, the hottest man your eyes have ever laid upon.
Standing before you, Sukuna looked like a man of sin.
His leather jacket hugged each built muscle of his arms, his hair tousled and swept back, as if he'd been running his fingers through it all day. Silver hooped earrings decorating his ears glinted under the soft lighting of the cafe. His lips curved up into a smirk, peering down at you with piercing eyes, catching the way your eyes trailed across the pretty tattoos on his sharp features, until they met hisâmaking heat rush to your cheeks from being caught.Â
It took your brain a moment to process what was transpairing, and once you did, your face warmed with embarrassment. Not only did he catch you staring, but your own attire left you feeling embarrassed. Clothes dishevelled and hair a mess from sitting in this quiet corner for hours, working tirelessly on the last few pages of your thesis on the role of engineered microbial enzymes for plastic biodegradation.
"Hey."
Dear god, his voice was equally as hot as him.
"Hi."
And eventually, you found a home with him too.
You still remember the first time you came over to his place, his arm wrapped around your waist as he guided you through the doors of his apartment. The second the door creaked open, you were greeted by a dash of brown fur, and the sound of excited paws against wood flooring filled the quiet atmosphere. Your heart warmed at the sight, watching her tail curl around his calf as she welcomed him back home.
Reaching forward to pet her, you were met with a hiss, turning her back towards you in rejection. A frown crossed your face, while the man towering behind you laughed as if he was having the time of his life.Â
"What..." You were left dumbfounded, disappointed by her hostility. Sukuna merely chuckled, his arm pulling you to him, planting a kiss to your hairline.
"Don't worry about her," he reassures, while the her in question left the room long ago, preferring to spend her time with a toy mouse and not with you. "It'll take some time for her to warm up to you," his hands reach for the collar of your jacket, helping you slide your arms out and hooking it to the coat hanger, "or to anyone," he said under his breath.
Your ears, however, did not miss his whispered words.Â
Since then, you found yourself competing for his attention with a cat, of all things. Every kiss shared was interpreted with a meow, every attempt to cuddle on the couch met with her sliding herself between you two, and every lingering touch of his trailing further was met with a paw smacking away at his eager hands.
It wasn't until that one night when everything changed.Â
Pulling up to the parking lot of his apartment, you slammed the door to your car shut, locking it while your hands juggled between your purse and car keys.Â
Your phone, on the other hand, was caught between your right ear and shoulder as you stayed on call with him. Sukuna was stuck at work, held back in a meeting, while you were already waiting outside of his door. Digging through the purse, you find the spare keys to his place.Â
"Kay, don't worry," you reply, twisting the doorknob and stepping inside. On his end, all he hears is shuffling, and then the sound of your keys placed onto the counter as you take off your coat. "I can take care of her, Sukuna." You roll your eyes at the thorough instructions he was throwing your way.
With a sigh, you hang up the call, making your way further into his place, your feet leading you straight to the living room where she was perched up on the beige couch, cuddled into herself like a loaf of bread.Â
"Looks like it's just you and me today, pip," you say, placing a hand on your hip, receiving a dejected meow in response from her.
It was going to be a long night.
Your attempts all felt fruitless, throwing a toy or treat, only for her passive attitude to dismiss you. Even following her dinner down to the last scoop, mixing her dry and wet food as instructed, you were met with a flick of her tail in disinterest.
By the time you gave up, the day had already passedâtirelessly at that. It wasnât until you let your guard down, giving up with a defeated sigh and plopping yourself down onto the couch, that she moved. Slowly by slowly, through the periphery of your eyesight, she was inching toward you on the couch, while you mindlessly scrolled through Netflix.
Until she finally reached out, pawing at your hands. Your heart swelled at the sight of her big eyes and the soft meows, letting go of your frustration from the day you finally gave her a petânails scratching behind her ears as her eyes closed in contentment.
And when Sukuna finally came home that night, exhaustion on his face from the day wearing him down, he was met with the sight of you two lying on the couchâher small form cuddled into your chest underneath the throw blanket.Â
ౚৠexperienced!sukuna x virgin f!reader
[adult boutique au] - ongoing series
â chasing your dreams isn't all it's cracked up to be. your apartment shakes when the train passes and eating a scoop of peanut butter and calling it girl dinner is getting depressing. when you finally manage to land a job at a store that sells sex toys, it's possibly the biggest relief of your life. there's just one issue:
you're a virgin.
you don't know the first thing about toys and you don't want your cute and flirty white-haired co-worker to know. against your better judgement, you find yourself turning to your other co-worker for lessons and learn the hard way he's just as much of an asshole in bed as he is at work. â
ౚৠcw ; mdni, 18+ only. fwb but you aren't friends. slow burn romance/fast burn smut. sukuna is 23ish, reader is 24/25ish. reader is sexually reserved but confident, nerdy, and a band geek. arrogant!sukuna. mild love triangle with gojo. dom!sukuna. mild corruption. size difference. sex toys & explorations of safety in kinks. smut & piv. virginity loss. see masterlist for full cw.
ౚৠwc ; 9.4k.
ౚৠart ; ackshuallyvalerie
main masterlist || series masterlist || next âȘą
There comes a point where you have to wonder if you just arenât meant to be applying for jobs. The amount of rejection emails and calls youâve gotten is staggering, and that doesnât even begin to touch on the amount of applications that simply havenât gotten a reply.
âWe regret to inform youâ feels like a personal attack at this point.
Sitting outside this particular store, however, has you questioning if maybe you just arenât cut out for work at all.
Itâs not like you expected a paying gig right out the gate when you moved to the big city to chase your dream of becoming a musician, but you at least figured you would be able to get something that pays in the meantime.
At this point, every rejection is a shot straight to the heart.
You applied to every store you could find with a hiring ad. Both online and in-person, skipping over the occasional store that you felt you werenât cut out for. Now, itâs come to the point where you donât have the luxury to be picky.
Still, the shoe store that wouldnât hire you? At least you have shoes, even if theyâre worn-in Vans and Converse for the most part.
The reception job at the law firm? Itâs not like you have a degree or can cite any, but you know general laws.
This? You sigh as your gaze traces the letters across the failing light box, deep red letters spelling out Adult Boutique.
Itâs not that you have anything against it.
Itâs that youâve never used a sex toy.
Hell, you donât know the first thing about them.
âID?â You pause in the doorway before you can get much of a look at the store, staring at a man with piercing blue eyes and white hair. Heâs handsome, maybe a year younger than you, and his friendly smile is horribly infectious.
You stand like a deer in the headlights, your lips caught in an embarrassing âoâ before your mind catches up. ID. Youâre in an age-restricted store. Right.
âShootââ Your hands fly down to your pockets, reaching for the walletâŠ
⊠That you left in the car.
Your jaw hangs ajar at the realization, warmth climbing from the back of your neck to the tips of your ears as the handsome clerkâs startlingly blue eyes pin you in place.
You shut your eyes, biting down on your lower lip. âIâll be right back.â
In the midst of your walk of shame back to your car across the street, every thought reminds you that you could just leave. You could forget this ever happened and simply accept you arenât getting the job. The fact that your wallet is so empty that you left it in your unlocked car in a shady part of town serves as a reminder that, again, you donât exactly have the luxury of being picky.
With a forlorn sigh and a drag of your hands down your face, you put on your best confident smile and make your way back inside. The clerk grins as you hand over your ID, leaning over the counter on forearms that you swear youâre not staring at.
Theyâre just veiny.
And incredibly hot.
âSorry,â you sigh as you pocket your ID again.
âDonât worry about it,â thereâs a small wave of his hand to brush you off, and when you look up to meet his eyes, thereâs a particularly sultry look to his gaze. Itâs enough to warm your cheeks again, and you can only pray he doesnât notice how much youâve been staring. âLooking for anything in particular?â He bears a lopsided tilt to his grin that sets your nerves further alight as your stomach ties in knots under the handsome strangerâs gaze.
Itâs gotta be a bad combination to be clueless on everything around you and thinking about the hot man in front of you rather than the job youâre applying for.
He gives you a once-over, setting the paper down with a more genuine grin. âWe could use the help,â he admits. âThe ownerâll be in tomorrow morning, Iâll have her give you a call.â
Thatâs the most positive response youâve received to an application thus far. Although you find yourself nervously eyeing a bottle of G-Spot Stimulating Gel on the counter that you donât know the first thing about, youâre honestly relieved that things could be looking up. You can handle this job with a bit of research, surely.
âThat would be great,â you offer a smile. âThank you.â
â
So, the good news is that you have a job. The bad news is that you still donât know the first thing about what youâre selling. Admittedly, you probably should have done some research or looked over the product offerings on the storeâs site, but somewhere between preparation for a new job and trying to sleep through the train shaking your apartment every few minutes, you forgot.
The kind woman who interviewed you over the phone and the storeâs ownerâ Jillianâ greets you at the door as you push into the store. Her graying hair is curled tightly at her roots, her eyes wrinkled at the corner and kind. She wears a pale pink wool sweater that compliments her lip gloss, standing at about the same height as you. Sheâs old enough to retire and still gorgeous all-the-same.
âWelcome, dear,â she smiles brilliantly at the sight of you, ushering you towards the front counter with a hand on your shoulder. âI appreciate the help, itâll be nice to step back from the counter and keep my job behind-the-scenes.â
The man beside doesnât bear the same welcoming nature. In fact, theyâre the definition of polar opposites.
Standing a couple of inches taller than the one you recognize, he has black hair that must be dyed, pink roots standing out like a rose among thorns. His ears are pierced in a multitude of ways with matching brow and lip piercings and tattoos that travel up the back of his neck, reaching his jaw. Heâs in far darker and more casual clothes, arms crossed over his broad and built chest with his hip leaned on the counter, and a look of mild disinterest that does no favors for your nerves.
Where the white-haired man bears a friendly smile and a button-up that makes him look ready for a job in a cubicle, his black-haired colleague is very clearly assessing your every move, and looks like he could be on-stage at a dingy bar.
She introduces you to the men, earning a grin from the one you recognize and⊠nothing from the man with black-dyed hair.
âIâll be in every couple of days to do the cash deposit,â she explains. âIâll also drop by to check on the office and put together paperwork, but Satoruââ she points to the white-haired man who casually salutes in greeting, âand Ryomenââ her hand waves towards the frowning man who doesnât react save for a glance at the older woman, âwill train you. Satoru usually does the opening shift and Ryomen does the closing shift. Weâre closed Mondays and Tuesdays, but youâll work the rest of the week.â Youâre grateful for the consistency, if nothing else. âYouâll take the midday Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, youâll be alone for a bit while the boys are in classes, and youâll take the closing shifts on weekends to help Ryomen during busy hours.â
His gaze, a crimson so striking you have half a mind to wonder if theyâre contacts, flicks to you, indiscernible, then back to Jillian.
âYou wonât be alone while you train of course though, the boys and I will cover until youâre comfortable being alone.â She pats you once on the shoulder. âDoes that work for you, dear?â
âNot a problem at all,â you nod. You clasp your hands together politely.
âPerfect!â She claps once in glee, clearly happy to step away from serving customers. You can understand that sentiment. âIâll grab your paperwork.â
Satoruâs gaze follows her as she heads for the back room, then turns cheerily to you. âHey, newbie!â He steps forward from the counter, outstretching his hand. âNice to meet you.â Shaking his hand, you match his grin. âWell, by name anyway.â
You turn your expectations to Ryomen, who doesnât move from the spot heâs standing in. His weight shifts to the other hip, still leaning against the counter when he juts his chin out in less of a greeting and more of an acknowledgement. âHey.â
âNice to meet you, Ryomen.â You give him a little wave.
âSukuna,â he corrects you. His words arenât sharp per se, but they carry a blunt edge. âOnly the old lady can call me Ryomen.â His voice is as gruff as his style and stature, fitting of the brutish impression he gives off. His slightly narrowed eyes give off the notion that heâs evaluating you. Reading you.
With a tight-lipped smile, Satoru scratches at the back of his head. He shoots you an apologetic glance as you uncomfortably gather that this isnât unusual for Sukuna.
âGot it, sorry.â You offer an apologetic smile, which he accepts with a nod.
Satoru steps forward to save you from the interaction, motioning with his head out to the storeâs floor. âWhy donât I show you around?â
You nod gratefully, letting him lead you away from the counter. Sukunaâs gaze is quick to drop to the counter as he leans over a book of some sort, his chin resting atop his hand. You turn your attention back to Satoru as he leads you through the long back area of the store
A colorful assortment of dildos and vibrators line the walls of the first aisle, anything from glass to silicone in different shapes and size varieties. The light in the far corner flickers when you step into the aisle, faux wood creaking under-foot. The store has that sort of old strip mall feel where, although well-maintained, its age is evident in the old fixtures and failing lights.
âSorry about him,â Satoruâs voice is a near-whisper as he shakes his head. His hair falls in front of those striking blue eyes as he leads the way down each aisle. Youâre not sure youâd really call it showing you around, but youâre certainly walking the floor. âHeâs uhhhââ he waves his hand through the air as he searches for the right term. âMoody, or something.â He chuckles. âI donât know, you get used to it. Donât take it personally.â
âHe doesnât seem like a customer service person,â you admit sheepishly, keeping your voice down.
Satoru does no favors keeping his own down as he barks a laugh. âNo, not really, hey? Heâs Jillianâs friendâs son, soââ he shrugs as you mentally connect the dots that landed him this job. âItâs an easy enough gig and honestly business is slow.â
âThatâs a shame,â you offer, mostly for Jillianâs sake, although you donât mind it being slow.
âYeah, itâll be nice to get to know you too.â
Jillian returns with paperwork before Satoru can take the opportunity to flirt any furtherâ but you get the feeling he will. It seems to go hand-in-hand with his personality. Once everything is signed and Satoru has headed off for class, Jillian leaves training in Sukunaâs hands as she retreats to the back to file your paperwork.
Sukunaâs gaze is a slow drag down your form as he evaluates the dark blouse and nice jeans you chose to wear. Admittedly, you now feel a little overdressed given his relative comfort and ripped jeans, but in spite of the judgement clear as day in his eyes, he keeps it to himself. At least, as long as you donât count the frown he bears. You canât really tell if thatâs meant for you or if thatâs his neutral expression.
With a sigh, he shuts whatever book is on the counter behind him and gives you a rundown in short, clipped sentences. âFloor work first, cash after. You worked cash before?â
You nod, though the register looks fairly old here.
He gives a hum of approval. âGood. The floor's pretty self-explanatory. Everything is ordered by brand, then color. Shipments Mondays and Thursdays. Back room for any overstock.â He points over his shoulder to where Jillian disappeared as he lays out instructions like facts. âNo clock system. Just work when you work. Pay is every second Friday. Youâll get a check.â
Again, you nod.
His gaze travels the length of your figure, but it doesnât feel as though heâs checking you out. Itâs an evaluation. And youâre pretty sure youâre failing before youâve had the chance to start. âI donât care what you do when customers arenât around. Study, read, go on your phone. I donât give a shit.â
âOh, okay. Thatâs kinda nice.â
His tone is apathetic as he hums in agreement. âI didnât have time last night and I know Satoruâs lazy ass didnât clean this morning, so Iâll get you to organize the shibari while I put some shit away.â
You nod, slipping away from the counter onto the floor. His gaze tracks you as you very unconfidently thread through the rows in search of shibari. To your horror, nothing is well-labeled, which means there isnât a distinct section with some big flashy sign to point you in the direction of a kink you donât know the name of.
âItâs at the back,â Sukunaâs low voice calls out. Biting down on your lip, you move towards the back of the store, your gaze trailing along the wall. There are a number of bondage devices you canât name, ropes that you assume go with bondage, and chains and whips that all feel bondage-adjacent.
So, more or less, youâre still at a loss.
Really failing that evaluation now.
Behind you, Sukuna is replacing products that were atop the counter at the front, but his movements stop when he fixes you with his narrowed gaze. âThe ropes,â he points them out on the wall with displeasure prickling around the edge of his sandpaper-scraped voice. Now that you look at them, it feels obvious given how out of order they are.
âI know!â Heat flares beneath your skin in all the wrong places. Still, you wonât let him get to you. âI was just looking.â
He doesnât reply, his crimson gaze boring into your expression so hard that youâre pretty sure he can see right through you.
At least you canât fuck up the organization of the ropes.
Quietly sucking in a breath, you turn to the wall, pulling down the plastic-covered rope bundles that are out of place.
âSo,â you turn your gaze over your shoulder. âYouâre in school?â
âMhm.â
âWhat are you taking?â
âBusiness.â
Heâs difficult, too. Great.
Once the ropes are in a more sound order, you spin on your heel to face him. Heâs already turning away, moving to a different area to put away a vibrator.
âCan Iââ
âHere.â He tosses a bottle of lube at you, caught clumsily in unexpecting fingers. âPut that away, too.â
Pressing your lips into a tight line, you nod, more to yourself than him. At least you know what lube is.
You search the store for the spot where it belongs, twisting it on the shelf so the label faces out, then make your way to the counter where Sukunaâs already standing over his book again. Before you have the opportunity to speak, the bell over the door rings as a customer walks through the door. Sheâs around your age, and quickly flashes ID towards Sukuna, who nods.
A regular, you suppose.
The tattooed clerkâs eyes trail to you, jutting his chin out expectantly towards the customer.
Making your way up to the woman with cute blonde hair cut short, you fall into your customer service voice. âCan I help you find anything?â
âHi!â She beams at you, her smile putting your first day nerves at ease. âThank you, but I know where most things are,â she waves you off politely. âI appreciate it, though!â She moves past you towards the back of the store, whirling around suddenly as her gaze shifts between you and Sukuna. âOh, actually, did you get any more of the cherry stimulants in?â
You turn your attention to Sukuna, who fixes you with a lazy unsure expression. âShe can check for you.â He leans his hip on the counter again, arms crossed over his chest as he faces you. âItâll be in the back. They come in a box with a cherry logo on them.â
Worrying your lip between your teeth, you nod as you make your way to the back.
Truthfully, the cramped room is a bit of a relief from the uncomfortable tension Sukuna just seems to naturally exude. Him and Satoru are big personalities in the most opposite way you can possibly imagine, but at least Satoru is willing to chat.
Jillian glances over her shoulder from an old computer at the back of the room. âEverything going well, dear?â
âYeah,â you grin, though truthfully this already feels like a disaster where youâre being scornfully judged by your colleague and accidentally making enemies on day one. With one of the only people you work with. So thatâs great. âThereâs just someone looking for stimulants.â
She shifts in her chair, doing a once-over of the boxes. âNot back here. Thereâs an inventory list on this computer that you can usually use, but I donât want to lose progress on your files. Can you ask Ryomen to check the holds drawer? Satoru might have put some on hold if he knew they were looking.â
âSure, thank you!â
With a grateful smile, you head back to the front and relay the information to Sukuna.
âHolds drawerâs there.â He points to a handle on the lower inside of the counter. Within are a number of boxes and small sachet packs. âMm, there they are.â
Clearly one of the sachet packs is what sheâs looking for. Unfortunately, they all fail to say exactly what they are on the front with bright and bold brands rather than descriptors or even a damn cherry logo, which means you havenât the faintest clue what youâre looking at.
âThe orange one,â Sukuna adds when youâre still paused staring at the drawer. Thereâs an unimpressed lilt to his tone that has you wincing before you pull the sachet pack from the drawer. You do what you can to keep your expression neutral and feign confidence when you stand upright again.
The whole situation is tense and embarrassing. It might at least be tolerable with Satoru, but Sukuna either enjoys your suffering or heâs an asshole.
The unfortunate third possible option is both.
His grimace as you set the pack in his hand isnât lost on you, although you choose to head towards the register in hopes that he can at least teach you how it works and you can get on with this day. He chooses not to say a word to you as the customer finishes looking around, returning to the front with a rose-shaped vibrator.
âOoh, thank you!â She grins as she spots the packet at the register.
Sukuna nods, glancing over his shoulder to make sure youâre paying attention. âJust type the amounts into the register,â he explains, putting both prices from the stickers into the old machine. Once he hits the equals button, the cash drawer pops open as he gets the total and it calculates tax for him. The customer flashes a card, so Sukuna shuts the drawer and types the amount into the machine to his right. âWhile she pays, get the serials on each tag and write them here,â he explains, pulling the number from each barcode and writing them on a pad of paper left of the register. Once her payment is processed, a receipt prints, which he hands to her, keeping the second copy under the till. Finally, he bags the items.
She thanks him, giving you a polite little wave and retreating out the door.
You let out a breath, nodding. âThe register seems easy enough,â you try more friendly commentary in spite of his half-assed teaching, but you suppose by now you shouldnât expect Sukuna to be receptive. He hums, a judgemental flash in his eyes as he pins you in place with a narrowed gaze like he can see something you canât.
He works his jaw in a slow grind of teeth like he wants to say something but thinks better of it, dropping your gaze. âIâve got to study. Thereâs not much else to the job besides that, so keep yourself busy.â
Thankfully the rest of the day passes without much of a hitch and youâre able to leave as evening hits, with Sukuna staying to close the store.
He doesnât give you another word for the remainder of the day. He doesnât expect you to handle customers. He handles the till. He doesnât even look at you as you let him know your shift is over. You arenât sure whether to be grateful or dread the rest of your shifts with him, but thankfully youâre able to spend more time with Satoru tomorrow.
Given that youâre off a couple of hours before close, you use the opportunity to stake out local bars with stages and take note of a small pub tucked away in a little corner. The outside has a sign that doesnât light up in the nightâs cover, but within itâs rather warm, with string lights hung over a stage in the back. While you work on your online presence, itâs the perfect spot to get your stage skills up.
The thick metal of the door is cool on your hand, creaking on its hinge as you press through to the interior warmth. Thereâs a small two-man group on-stage performing low-energy grunge that seem to be garnering decent attention from onlookers and groups you would be willing to bet are regulars based on the way they move around the small scene.
Adjusting your jacket over your shoulder, you make your way to the bar. The bartender looks to be a couple of years senior to you, with short brown hair kept neat aside from a couple of stray strands that fall over his forehead. He has a prominent nose and sunken eyes that give him an overall air of tiredness.
The apron he wears over a clean-cut button-up pulls taut across his chest as he reaches overhead to set a bottle of whiskey along the back wall before turning his attention to you with a polite smile. âWhat can I get for you?â
âOh, um, actually,â you begin with a polite smile, âI was wondering who I need to impress to be up there.â You point to the grunge band at the back as his gaze follows you.
He hums, his calm demeanor shifting from the routine of bartending to something more friendly. âI can give you the ownerâs email. If you fit in with the crowd, heâll work with your schedule.â
Casting another glance at the two men on-stage, you nod, chewing on your lip in an effort to hide your giddy smile. âThatâd be great. So⊠whatâ a little moody, kind of chill? Maybe some minor chords in there?â
The bartender chuckles, picking up a glass like routine simply fills his subconscious. âSounds to me like youâve already got the gig.â
Leaving behind the smell of drowned sorrows and shared laughter, you can hold onto the fact that while your day took a turn for the worst, itâs just a job. Once you leave the building, you donât have to think about it and can focus on music. Sukuna isnât the end of the world and if you can manage to stay out of his hair, surely you can find some sort of common ground with him.
â
Wind whips too fast across the street when you lock your car behind you. Your unzipped coat flails in the wind, leaving you with a flustered expression as the shop door slams shut behind you.
âHey newbie,â Satoru greets you with an amused grin. You flash him a smile as you smooth down your outfit, far more casual than the previous one with jeans and a band shirt. âHow was yesterday?â He asks, wiping down the counter and tossing the wipe in a garbage as he claps his hands together to brush them off.
The chuckle that parts your lips is half-hearted as you drop your laptop bag atop the front counter. âKind of a disaster?â You wince, shaking your head. âIs he seriously always like that?â
Satoru stands upright, running a hand through white locks. âHe gets better when you get to know him, but yeah heâs kind of an asshole,â he laughs brightly, unbothered. âIâm pretty sure he thinks heâs all that and a bag of chips.â
âI didnât immediately know where everything is without being shown,â you wave a hand through the air, letting it hang there for a moment in disbelief.
Satoru, unphased, grins. âOh, yeah. Sounds like a classic case of not running on Sukunaâs schedule. You should really get on that.â
You throw your head back with a sigh, giving a dismissive wave of your hands. âWhatever, itâs a new day, right? Maybe it wonât be so bad today.â
Satoru teasingly sucks in a breath through his teeth. âSorry newbie, but my sources are telling me todayâs weather is looking cloudy in Sukuna-land.â
Satoruâs unseriousness helps settle a modicum of your nerves as you find yourself laughing at his charm.
âBut hey, youâve got me for a couple of hours first.â He grins, settling the balls of his palms atop the counter as he leans his weight back. One of his sleeves, rolled to the elbow, slides down his forearm to his wrist. âWhat did he go over with you, anyway?â
You laugh loosely. âLike, nothing. He gave me a thirty second run-down of the till and told me I donât need to clock in or out.â
âThatâs gold,â Satoru shakes his head in an effort to get hair from falling into his line of sight. âI thought heâd be nicer to a pretty girl like you.â His face lights up as you avert your eyes, smiling at the scuffed floor underfoot. He keeps the conversation flowing like itâs second nature. âTell you what, Iâll actually try to show you around before he gets here, and you can tell me what brought you to the city.â
Recovering quickly, you fix him with a humbled expression at the callout. âIs it that obvious that Iâm not from here?â
Satoru barks a laugh. âYeah. Youâve got small town energy.â
âSmall town energy? What does that even mean?â You follow him out from behind the counter as he leads the way to the back room first.
âJust vibes,â he shrugs. âItâs good. Cute,â he grins. You get the feeling heâs a bit of a flirt through and through, but truthfully you enjoy the attention.
Plus, heâs hot.
âThanks,â you murmur with a bashful smile, chewing on your lip. âI uhâ I wanted to give my dream a shot before tying myself down in a career I hate.â
His eyes light up as he turns to you with a palm on the door handle for the back room. âOh yeah? Whatâs your dream?â
âSinging. Music,â you admit, feeling just shy enough that you avert your gaze in spite of your giddiness.
âNo way.â Heâs grinning widely now, his hand leaving the door handle as he chooses to lean against it instead, arms crossed tantalizingly over his chest. âI feel like Iâm obligated to be the annoying guy who asks you to sing for me now.â
You laugh heartily. âAt least you know it would make you that guy.â
With a chuckle, he finally turns around to lead the way into the back room. He peppers actual explanations of the jobâs inner workings between personal questions.
After explaining the inventory system on the back computer and how boxes are organized, he leads the way back through the aisles, pointing out different sections as you walk. âSo, do you take gigs between shifts?â
âWhen I can,â you nod. âIâm trying to put together the money to get some studio time soon. I have some self-recorded stuff, but I donât think Iâm much of a producer.â
âWill you at least tell me what genre?â
âUm,â you shrug thoughtfully, âI guess like punk or indie rock?â
âOooh, so youâre a moody guitar girl. I like it, I like it.â He nods his approval with a wide grin. The faintest of dimples forms at the corners of his lips, giving him a charmingly boyish smile.
Your genuine shared laughter sends flutters to the pit of your stomach, warm and welcome, as you finish threading through aisles and head back to the front counter. Satoru pushes up on forearms that flex under his weight as he settles atop the counter. You follow suit on the opposite counter, head tilting as you inquire about him.
âJillian mentioned youâre in school, what are you taking?â
âBusiness,â he replies with a lopsided smile.
âOh, like Sukuna?â
âDamn, you got an answer out of him?â Satoru chuckles. âYeah, heâs a year ahead of me but weâre in the same program. I think he wants to do the whole company startup thing though, Iâm looking to kinda take over for Jillian and eventually buy this place if things work out. Sheâs holding out until I finish.â
Your brow raises as you fix him with an inquisitive look. âYou wanna take over here?â
âDonât sound so shocked,â he chides, gaze lidded with an almost-cocky attitude. âDonât get me wrong, I know it doesnât seem busy even with online orders, but I actually think thereâs a huge untapped market here.â He straightens and you can see the passion and drive gleaming in his eager gaze. âI think the way sex toys are sold both online and in-stores is outdated and makes a lot of people feel uncomfortable and I want to try to do something new to help people feel more comfortable and open in terms of sex.â
You blink, nodding at the insightful way that he goes on to explain the ins and outs of his opinion on the industry and how, although he loves Jillian, he can see a lot of ways to use his knowledge to improve the business and hopes to change the way kinks are viewed.
Itâs not like it hasnât occurred to you just how inexperienced you are, but as you nod along to his passionate explanation, it occurs to you just how experienced he is. He doesnât say it outright, but he talks about the way condoms are made and how bad they can be for some people, how he hopes to bring in products for people who struggle with medication killing their sex drive, and even the intricacies of what products work well and which donât and how he would love to stop stocking them altogether.
It shouldnât come as a shockâ it doesnâtâ after all, heâs hot and flirty, but it certainly gives the butterflies in your stomach an edge that you arenât sure what to make of. Itâs not uncomfortableâ Satoruâs still kind and has a welcoming personalityâ itâs closer to inadequacy. Like you should know more, and not just for job purposes. It doesnât sit well.
But you shouldnât be thinking about your coworker like that anyway, right?
Thankfully, before you can think too hard about the subject, Sukuna walks through the door with a heavy step to his boots.
Maybe âthankfullyâ doesnât suit his arrival, though. His gaze flits briefly between each of you before he heads straight to the back, giving you both a noncommittal wave as you greet him.
When the door shuts behind the brute, Satoru turns to you. He grimaces, faux empathy shining in cerulean seas. âThe weather report was right.â
The day passes so quickly with Satoru even without a single customer entering the store that the rest of the day feels like a slog without him. Or maybe it just feels like a slog because Sukuna makes it clear he wants nothing to do with you. He even stayed in the back until Satoru had to leave in spite of the changes in their regular schedules just to train you.
Heâs not even that unfriendly with Satoru either from what the kinder of the two told you. He tried to reason that your tattooed co-worker simply isnât fond of new people, but youâre pretty sure your inexperience grates on his nerves.
And unfortunately, every little slip up seems to tack on. Your shifts with Satoru are a breeze that leaves you grinning bashfully over your new crush while your shifts with Sukuna have you questioning every life choice youâve ever made.
Your first weekend closing shift with Sukuna, youâre pretty sure you confirm your suspicions that he simply doesnât like you.
The bell rings overhead as a tall man with dark hair walks through the door. You greet him and offer a hand, but his gait is purposeful as he heads into the back after flashing ID. Passing the time by fiddling with a pen as Sukuna stares blankly at the door with a hand lazily strewn over his textbook page, your gaze lifts when the man returns.
âExcuse me. Do you know the difference between thisââ he shows you a bullet vibrator, âand this?â He holds up a hitachi wand next, âaside from size?â
Your jaw hangs open stupidly as you try to formulate a response but find yourself at a loss when size seems like the reasonable answer. Feeling your face flush, you glance sidelong at the business major.
If looks could kill.
The worst part? Itâs not even glare.
Itâs the most unfiltered and raw disappointment youâve ever seen.
He huffs, pushing up from the counter. âThe bullet is discreet but weak. It takes batteries and they usually only last for five hours overall. Itâs still a good amount of use, but they might be watch batteries, which can be a pain.â He shoots you a pointed stare that makes you wonder if you would rather have just embarrassed yourself in front of Satoru in spite of your crush. âThe wand is rechargeable, way stronger, lasts about fifteen hours, and has a lot more vibration modes,â he explains confidently.
The man nods, setting the bullet aside as he brings the wand to the counter. Over the course of the past few days, Sukunaâs taken most of the floor-related duties away from you in spite of the fact that you have tried to do some research and are getting to know the sections and general genres of toys. That question simply didnât come up. Yet for all of the times heâs made a motion for you to take over cash, he doesnât even offer it this time.
You get the feeling this goes beyond his usual irritation.
You can practically feel it radiating off of him in waves of negative energy.
The moment the customer walks out the door, Sukunaâs palm splays across the counter as he turns with frustrating evenness to face you. Somehow his ability to keep his actions level while being visibly affronted is worse than if he would have just yelled.
âDo you think youâre cute for making my job harder or did you just apply for the wrong fucking job?â
Okay. Fuck this guy.
âYou canât be serious right now.â
He lifts his hands in a loose shrug. âDo I look like Iâm kidding?â He replies, dry and even with venomous fangs.
You scoff, but relent nonetheless given that he is close to the storeâs owner and you can not afford to lose this job.
Literally.
You canât call a scoop of peanut butter dinner again.
âLook, Iâm sorry, this is justââ you hesitate, your mind muddled as you search for an explanation. Sighing in exasperation, you throw your hands up, letting them fall to your sides with a plop against your jeans. You settle on the truth before you take too long to reply. âSex toys are new to me.â
His jaw ticks as he leans his hip back against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. Somehow, he makes Satoru look smallâ not thin or short, but smallâ given how much bulkier he is. Heâs hot too, but his personality stands as a bit of a wall between you. His jaw works, eyes narrowed as he takes in your words.
At last, he chuckles. Dry and devoid of any amusement. âWhy the fuck did you apply here if you donât know anything about the shit we sell?â
âBecause I need a job?â You reply incredulously.
He huffs a sigh. âJust my fucking luck.â He turns back to the register, haphazardly tossing the receipt into a small bin under the counter before he grabs the bullet vibrator and heads out onto the floor. âFigure that shit out,â he calls sourly without looking back at you. âWatch porn or buy something, I donât give a shit. Just donât make my job harder.â
Leaning back against the counter where it meets the wall, you let your head fall back in disbelief.
Asshole.
â
You wish you could say your first month passes seamlessly, but Sukuna makes the seams painfully obvious.
With Satoru, theyâre subtle but you still feel them.
They both present separate problems.
Sukuna is an outright asshole and you want to get things right if only to not hear his virulent voice. The silence is somehow better.
Satoru is kind, open, and caring, but leagues ahead of you in experience and you have a massive crush. There arenât enough customers in the morning to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you do find yourself wanting to impress him and against your better judgement, youâre pretty sure youâve given him the impression you know what youâre doing from what little research youâve done and what youâve picked up over the month.
At least youâre trained enough that you get a couple of hours to yourself between Satoruâs departure and Sukunaâs arrival now that their hours arenât extended in order to train you.
âYou gonna be okay on your own?â Satoru asks, shrugging his jacket over his shoulder.
âIâll be fine,â you brush him off with a smile.
He nudges your arm, unknowingly sending goosebumps in a trail up your skin. âGood. Text me if you need something. Or, I dunno. If youâre bored.â
Your heart does a little flip. âYeah. Okay, thanks.â
You watch bashfully as he leaves, offering a little wave. Once heâs out of sight, you lean on your forearms over the counter. With a forlorn sigh, you drop your chin to the vinyl below, staring blankly out the window. Truthfully, itâs nice to have a breather between each man. You need the time to prepare yourself to handle Sukuna.
Your mindâs distraction comes in the form of your phone buzzing a few minutes later.
1:36 PM Satoru || not bored yet? ;)
A distraction to be sure. Whether itâs fortunate or notâ yet to be determined.
The door seems to be opening more and more with him these days and as giddy as that makes you, nerves are beginning to show more and more at the seams. Itâs foolish really, and you know that, but you find yourself constantly coming back to your lack of experience.
1:37 PM You || Give me like 5 more minutes and then I will be
You can practically hear the laugh he barks, having grown fond of his company.
Youâre still casually texting back and forth when Sukunaâs shoulder presses on the door. He moves confidently through the shop, casting a single glance at you before dropping his bag off in the back room.
Heâs still a pain in the ass, but Satoru was right that you do get used to it. Youâre not sure that youâd call that a win, but at least youâve come to some sort of silent agreement with him out of sheer necessity.
He didnât leave you with many options after realizing just how little you know about the industry. When he got in the following day and returned your greeting with a painfully mild âdonât botherâ, you had to figure out some sort of system that would prevent him from interacting with you altogether if it means his attitude is milder.
Thatâs how you landed here. He handles the floor and questions, you handle cash. You can tell he hates the arrangement given that heâs not a chatty guy, but at least you arenât pinned in place by his vile appraisal every time you interact.
Heâs civil.
Civil enough.
Most of the time.
For him, anyway.
Heâs less judgemental, at least, and when you are able to help on the floor, he tends to leave you be more often than not. Itâs like the loosest form of appreciation you can think of.
Youâre pretty sure âtoleratesâ is a fitting word for how he sees you. Like some sort of intrusive insect that sits just out of reach.
When he re-emerges from the back with his coat shrugged off, youâre surprised to see him in a black button-up and slacks, carrying his usual aloof expression as he makes his way to the counter. Admittedly, itâs a good look for him.
Itâs unfair that he gets to be hot and an asshole.
âIs there a reason youâre staring?â
Thank god you donât find him intimidating anymore. Heâs a dick. Even to customers from time to time, but you donât find yourself feeling small under his judgement. Maybe you should, but your ability to quickly bounce back could easily be placed at fault.
Blinking, you avert your gaze. âSorry. Iâm just not used to seeing you so dressed up.â
He examines your expression as though he suspects a lie in your words. âI had a presentation,â he explains, surprisingly open as he offers the explanation willingly.
Holy shit. Itâs the first sunny day in the Sukuna forecast.
âWhat sort of presentation?â
âA marketing pitch.â
âOh, nice.â You nod, trying to keep the peace. âHowâd it go?â
He nods, turning to the counter to open his laptop. âGood. Weâre gonna workshop it a bit, but Iâm hoping to pitch to investors soon.â Thereâs pride within the evenness of his voice that has you tilting your head, intrigued to get something genuine from him.
Leaning in, you push to see how much you can get from him. âLike, a startup idea?â You recall Satoru mentioning something of the sort.
His gaze fixes you from over his shoulder. You get the feeling with him that heâs always trying to read you. âYeah. A platform where people can pitch their businesses to customers within a certain distance without needing social media.â
âOh,â you blink, mildly surprised. âThatâs a really good idea.â
He hums, turning back to his laptop.
âYou donât really strike me as the CEO type, if Iâm being honest.â
âIâm not,â he agrees, surprisingly unbothered by the observation. You consider yourself lucky he doesnât take it as an insult. âIâd be looking for a co-founder to handle the personal, financial, and sales bullshit. Iâd run strategy and go-to-market.â
Admittedly, yeah. That suits him. Heâs sharp and straightforward, he seems like the type to be more inclined to work on strategy and run everything without the constant need for approval and help from others.
âThat sounds more your style. What made you think of the platform idea?â
He doesnât look back as he replies. âJust seemed like something that would make money.â
You recognize that as Sukuna being polite. Heâs shutting you down without a look that makes your skin crawl for once. You suppose itâs as good of a time as any to return to your texts. Your friend from back home has been religiously sending memes during your shifts to get you through the Sukuna days and today is no exception. You laugh at a few of them under your breath.
The day is as uneventful as usual. Sukuna even casts an approving glance in your direction when you correctly answer a customerâs question. Heâs not so bad when he isnât glaring every couple of minutes.
You pray the weather stays sunny in Sukunaland.
Shutting the register as a customer leaves, you turn back inside the store to find Sukuna back to work, hunched over his textbook and regurgitating the information into notes. You opt not to bother him, turning your attention instead to a flickering bulb in the back of the floor. Much like both men have chosen not to mention or fix it, you have too.
Turning your attention back to your phone, you cast a smile at your latest text from Satoru.
5:53 PM You || The weather's looking surprisingly sunny today!!
5:54 PM Satoru || be on the lookout for rain. the weather can change on a dime
5:54 PM You || I can handle a bit of rain
5:55 PM Satoru || iâll bet you can ;)
There your stomach goes doing flips again. Your thumbs fiddle with the edges of your phone case, pulling at the plastic as you stare at the message with that horrible mix of nerves and your stomach tying in knots. You get so caught up in your own self-doubt, you donât realize youâre staring at Sukuna, busy with his own phone.
âWhat?â He gruffs, retaining that hint of annoyance.
âHm?â You blink, brought back to the present. Before you, Sukuna is leaning against the counter, phone in-hand as his jaw shifts left and right. His lip ring noticeably catches like heâs fiddling with it. âOh. Sorry.â With a shake of your head, you stare back down at your screen. Your gaze catches on the winky face. The underlying meaning behind it and his text. The impression youâve probably given off working at a sex toy boutique.
The goddamn butterflies, though. The same ones causing the wave of self-consciousness that you know is foolish. But fuck is it hard not to feel that way when Satoru is undeniably the kind of guy that has people hanging off his shoulder with little to no effort. Your experience shouldnât matter, but society has taught you to think otherwise.
âHey,â you speak up on impulse before your mind can catch up to the move your mouth is already making. You canât be certain whether itâs bravery or stupidity. âYou know a lot about what we sell, right?â
His eyes narrow, minute. Just enough to catch your attention. âYeah. Iâm good at my job.â
The dig at your knowledge has you pressing your lips together. God, heâs frustrating. âAsshole.â His brow raises slightly, like something he once deemed uninteresting or unuseful has caught his attention and heâs appraising the situation to find if youâre deserving of it. âIs there, like⊠a way to improve without watching porn?â You query, worrying your lip between your teeth.
No longer engrossed in his laptop upon noticing your stare, Sukunaâs gaze bores into you. He doesnât particularly make you uneasy now like he did when you first started, but it is sharp in spite of the evenness behind it. âI told you. Buy toys.â
You suppose you could have been a bit more specific. âNo, I know that. A lot of them need a partner, though.â
He waves his hand in disinterest through the air like youâve already answered your own question and heâs done entertaining any more. âFind one, then.â Heâs already looking away as he replies.
You suck in a breath. âIâm from a small town. I just moved here, I donât really know anyone.â
Sukuna just stares at you again like he expects you to figure it out yourself. His arms cross over his chest, his hip leaned against the counter. Itâs not until the air turns stifling, your words hanging a hair too long as you meet his gaze that he cuts the tension with a disbelieving laugh.
âYouâre asking me?â You canât make heads or tails of his expression when it sits somewhere between disbelief and intrigue. Itâs akin to the look you got upon calling him an asshole.
âNo! Orâ maybe? I donât know.â The wince you shoot him is humiliating as you try to navigate the stormy seas youâve set yourself sailing through.
âWhy donât you go ask Satoru?â He queries, pushing a hand back through his black-dyed locks like this question was never meant for him. Still, his tone doesnât give off the impression that heâs irritated by you, so much as something more curious in nature.
Your gaze averts as your jaw hangs open in a frustrating moment of hesitation. Briefly glancing at the texts sitting in your hand is the only tell Sukuna needs, unfortunately able to read you like a book for some god forsaken reason.
âYouâve got to be fucking with me,â he chuckles, airy and amused. He pushes up off the counter, taking a step towards you like heâs laying out a challenge. âYou donât give a shit about the job. Youâre trying to impress that fucker.â He rakes his tongue over his teeth, standing over you like he owns this damn conversation.
You cross your arms over your chest, fixing him with your own judgement. âYou donât have to make a big deal out of it.â
He pushes a condescending breath through his nose, smiling with nothing but mockery. âI donât, but Iâm gonna. You two would hit it off.â
Frowning, you opt to not give him the reaction he wants. Your nails dig into the skin of your arm. âI think I liked you better when you didnât talk as much.â
âMost people do,â he smirks. He steps forward, hands in his pockets as he leans over you. âYou still want me to teach you a thing or two, sweetheart?â His tone drips with condescension now that the person he once saw as little more than a pain in his ass has become something he can toy with.
You roll your eyes. You hadnât expected your quiet co-worker to be this kind of an asshole. Why couldnât he just say no and move on? Where did all the theatrics come from? âWhy are you such a dick?â
âAnswer the question,â he deflects, unbothered and painfully egotistical.
You huff, staring at the lemon-shaped vibrator sitting atop the counter that youâve been contemplating buying for the last hour. âFine. Yeah, I do.â
He blows a breath through his nose, standing upright again once heâs gotten your admission in his hands. âWhatâs in it for me?â The way he stands over you, chin tilted, and eyes narrowed, makes you huff.
You hadnât exactly thought that far ahead. Hell, you didnât expect to even voice your thoughts out loud. You barely even know enough about him to offer him anything. âI took business as a minor,â you suggest. âI could tutor you.â
âNah, Iâm set.â
You shrug, exasperated. Your hands wave uselessly through the air before plopping back down at your sides. âWhat do you want, then?â
He regards you with a thoughtful expression. âIâll train you to close. Doesnât matter what youâre doing, if I ask you to take my shift, you drop whatever youâre doing and take it.â
You shift your jaw to the left, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You expected worse.
âAnd you donât tell Jillian or Satoru you took my shift. I keep the money.â
Ah. Thereâs the âworseâ you expected.
Frowning, you give the nerves in the pit of your stomach a moment to settle over making a deal with the devil. You want to say figuratively but you arenât so sure. âFine.â You extend your hand, but the man shakes his head, frowning.
âRules first, then we shake.â He holds up his pointer. âDonât tell a soul. Not even your friends back home.â Another finger. âNo kissing. No making out. No sex.â He holds up a third finger. âThis isnât a little romantic fantasy thing. This isnât a relationship. Donât call this shit friends with benefits or fuck buddies, either. Weâre not friends. Donât expect anything cute from me. Got that?â
You donât bother holding back a scoff. âI wasnât going to, trust me.â
He smirks, unbothered. âGood.â His hand extends first this time.
For a long moment, you stare. You contemplate your life choices. You debate just ignoring your fears with Satoru and praying you can play the role of having experience. You equally contemplate just telling him you have no experience and that youâre nervous.
But somehow, the way nerves churn your stomach makes the butterflies worse. You want to squash them. You want to impress Satoru.
And you know. You know itâs stupid. You know you shouldnât have to impress him, but the heart and mind donât always connect, do they?
Against your better judgement, you clasp hands with him. You go to do the actual motion of a handshake but he keeps your hand in place. When your gaze raises to meet his in a silent question, heâs scrutinizing every little movement in your features.
His expression doesnât hold the condescension you expect. His gaze is devoid of amusement, fixated on the frown you bear. âYou really sure about this?â
You donât hesitate to nod.
His eyes narrow a sliver. âWell, aren't you full of surprises?â Thereâs that hint of assholery. âOne more rule.â His hand remains unmoving, still clasped with yours as he holds your gaze. âEither of us can shut this down at any time. It still never gets mentioned.â
You nod. âAgreed.â
Finally, he goes through with shaking your hand. âWhen are you looking to start?â
Your nose wrinkles at the way he makes it sound. âDo you have to say it like itâs aâ I donât know, job or something?â
âOh, my bad,â he sneers, his grin too proud. âWhen do you wanna get fucked?â
You shouldnât have asked.
Pulling your hand away from him, you rub your temples. Youâre definitely not about to prod any further, lest he get more vulgar. âIâm free tonââ
âNot tonight,â he interrupts. âI got someone coming over to study.â
Scheduling ahead doesnât sit right with you either. âCan we just decide during shifts? See how weâre feeling?â
âWhatever suits you,â he shrugs. The mild arrogance to his tone is⊠another can of worms to unpack, but as your colleague turns back to his studies, you only have one question for yourself.
What the hell have you gotten yourself into?
main masterlist || series masterlist || next âȘą
ౚৠa/n ; i hope you enjoyed the first chapter of what will be a VERY kinky series LOLOL. i'm having a lot of fun with these two so far and i hope you are too <3
as a note, i'm trying moving tags to another blog which some of you may have seen due to changes in how tumblr's bot detection system is working, so please bear with me while i figure out how to not get my account flagged while doing taglists đ
ౚৠtaglist ; OPEN. age must be visible in bio. 18+ only.
Satoru Gojo is the top masseuse at this fine establishment - he's the best at giving his clients the happiest endings. Yet you are by far the most tense damn girl he's ever touched.
"Shit, you're all locked up," he mumbles, those long fingers gliding across your muscles, pressing into your skin with that jasmine scented oil. "You good, sweetheart?"
"Mmm, not really," you mumble, sucking in a breath when he starts pressing harder on your sore, aching muscles. "Ah! You're so rough!"
"Well normally I just finger girls, you actually need a damn massage," you snort and he chuckles a bit, pausing when you turn your head to look at him, pretty eyes all dilated.
You're so fucking pretty.
This elegant pretty that comes from being in your late twenties that is his weakness - Satoru is twenty three but he loves a thirty year old milf. He just can't help his tastes, really, especially when they blush all sweet like you.
He's no poor college student trying to make it, no - he's rich enough to buy this entire spa twenty times over. Satoru is here for the joy of it, carpal tunnel and all can't stop him from making sure he got these clients off. Nothing really is as fulfilling as watching a woman come apart under his long fingers.
Making them squirt is truly a fucking art form.
But he never has felt this much tension, he's having to put his actual skills to use for once - and honestly? Satoru was better at fingering than rubbing backs.
He tugs that tiny towel down, till it's barely covering your ass, thumbs gliding in on those cute dimples. He vividly pictures how pretty your hips would be in his big ass hands - breedable hips that are wreaking havoc on his brain.
He's usually pretty unaffected, used to this, but the way you arch and whine out fucks him up.
Satoru kneads those thumbs into your hips now, a couple stretch marks right on them making him throb - he's not kidding when he says he loves a milf. You're gasping out, little filthy sound ruining him, he can't help but raise a brow.
"Hmm, husband not doing it for you?"
"I'm separated now..." You mumble, peeking at that spot your wedding band left a line.
You're still technically 'married' to your shitty husband Naoya, who had always been terrible, but recently fucked someone right in your bed, and had the utter audacity to act offended when you left. So what better to cheer you up, then to have someone work all that frustration out?
"Bad split?"
"You could say that..." you can't stop arching up a more, he takes the hint and slides his hands up your ribcage, eliciting a soft little moan.
Fingers glide down the sides of your breasts, your cunt is dripping wet then - the very recent memory of your cheating husband washed away with every glide of long fingers on your skin.
"You like me touching right here, sweetheart?" He asks softly. you moan, nodding. "Then turn around for me."
You obey easily, blushing a bit, his hands brushing oil on your tits, making your lashes flutter shut, covering up just a bit.
"Don't, you're sexy.."
You blush even more if that were possible, breasts rising and falling as his huge hands knead that flesh, plucking at your nipples. Satoru moves to stand right over your head, the view of his cock tenting his pants fucking you up.
"You're getting the highest tip," he snorts at that.
"Oh?" He's gliding more oil across your tummy, leaning over to part your thighs and eye your slick pussy, hesitating just a bit - this is where he likes to let the clients guide him. "Put my hand where you want."
"Oh..." your heart hammers in your chest as you slip it down further, he lets out a soft little moan when his fingertips are right between your slit. "Mnh!"
"You don't need any oil there," he muses softly, teasing fingers slipping up your slit, making you jolt as they toy with your twitchy clit. Your hips arch as he teases your entrance, slick pouring from your little hole down his fingers. "So wet already, we just started the massage.... your little cunt is so needy."
All you manage is your eyes rolling back in your skull - your man just never made you cum, and your own fingers didn't feel close to as good as those five inch fingers did.
You swear they're bigger than your ex's cock.
Rough fingertips dip in your slick just to the first knuckle, slutty little moans escape your throat at it.
"Feel good?" He murmurs softly, one hand holds your thigh apart, the other swirls around your messy cunt and sliding in. "You're so tight here, too, I think need to loosen you up."
"Please," this slutty masseuse with pretty blue eyes pumps your pussy full - stretching you out with these sweet nurn6, that spongy spot he presses, making you gasp out, back arching off the little bed. "Mnh, there, there!"
"Shh, not too loud," he leans fully over you to press a kiss on your inner knee - that was not protocol, not when he couldn't stop thinking of drinking your pussy and breeding you. "Your cunt is already so loud."
You huff, earning another chuckle, when suddenly you can't help but tug at his zipper, sliding so your head dangles off the bed. He pauses, blushing and looking down at you, fingers sliding out.
"What are..." You look up all pretty with hearts in your eyes for him, biting your lip, thighs shaking.
"I really want your cock in my throat, I'll pay so much more," he almost laughs.
Paying him to suck his cock!?
"You sure, sweetheart? This is for you."
"I'll love it if you would like it," you turn around, on your elbows and knees, looking right up at him as he frees his cock. "Is this special treatment?"
"It is, can't say anyone's touched me," he mumbles, suddenly nervous, when you've got your mouth wrapping his cock, his head falls back, groan slipping from his throat as that tip grazes the roof of your mouth.
You didn't look the type to suck a dick down your throat like you have no gag reflex - but here you are, swallowing him like you can't get enough. Your oiled up ass is arched, Satoru reaches a long arm over you, one hand entangled in your hair, the other finding your hole and fucking his fingers in and out.
The loud sounds of your squelching pussy and his cock choking your slutty throat are loud, the stupid ass spa music falling on deaf ears as he thinks he's in love with your mouth.
"F-fuck you're... too good at..." He's never one to be at a loss for words, but with every glide of his pretty pink tip in your throat, you're swallowing impossibly more of him. "That's it - fuck, just like..."
Satoru bites down on his lower lip as he shoves the back of your head so he's choking you with his length, curling his fingers just right so you squirt right down him. Dripping in rivulets you're making the biggest mess, squishing sounds loud when he rushes his fingers side to side to make you squirt even more.
"Mmmph," tears streak down your eyes as you swallow Satoru's cock, thighs shaking on the leather bed, nails pressing into well muscled thighs. His grip on your head tightens as he bends over, fucking your throat even faster
"Want me to use your throat, cum deep inside it, huh sweetheart? Use your mouth like a pretty toy till all my cum makes you full?" Your answer is to desperately suck, two of his hands now on your head. Hips snapping, cock fucking in and out.
For a woman who had nothing but missionary and a little spit on your cunt as lube, you've never wanted to please like this. You want him to use yojr throat - fuck you would let him use every hole he wanted, looking up at him to see his flushed cheeks through your watering eyes.
"Mnh, m"gonna..." he cups your face to hold it in place, cock bottoming out so his drool soaked balls press on your chin. He pumps so much cum his knees are weak, he damn near has to cling to the bed as you keep sucking. "That thirsty? Gonna suck me dry..."
You keep sucking even as he is sensitive, Satoru pulls back and looks at the mess he's made of you, cum having slipped down your chin. He gathers it and slips it back between your lips.
"Open for me, pretty."
You eagerly listen- you, a soccer mom having this white haired masseuse spit in your open mouth in a filthy string. You eagerly swallow him up, earning him yanking you to your knees, kissing you right when the little timer goes off for his next client.
"Oh," you flush as you realize just how much you loved that, tying your robe hastily and almost bouncing at the door before he stops you.
"Hey," he tilts your chin up, pressing you against the door. "Can I see you again? Like... dinner or..."
"You want to go on a date? With me?"
"Nervous about a date but you just let me spit in your mouth?" he grins and you cover your face now.
"Oh god..."
"Pretty please?"
He is pretty sure he is in love when you give him your number and peck a kiss on his cheek.
and when he has to cancel his next client, it may or may not be because he's jerking his cock to the way your juices are still coating his fingers đ
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âShhhhh.â Tojiâs voice is dangerous. Low. His chin was hooked into the crook of your neck - and youâre getting pushed back down, down, dooooown his-Â
âOh myâŠâ Your mouth waters, weak arm reaching out to grasp the edge of the futon.
But Tojiâs guiding it to his shaggy salt-and-pepper hair. Making you tug. Making you wrench.
His other palm - calloused after what you assume to be countless years of training his Heavenly Restriction - comes up to plaster over your mouth. âUnless ya want them to hear.â He mutters, referring to the council of elders seated behind the sliding doors.Â
You knew it was part of the ceremony: to make sure that you and the older clan leaderâŠaffirmed your new union.
An arranged marriage, of course. The marriage of the century in jujutsu societyâs highest circles.Â
But even after a lavish wedding, and an even more lavish title suited to you, you still couldnât believe that you were married to Zenin Toji.
Perhaps expected considering that the two of you had met just a few weeks ago; youâd announced to your council that you were ready for marriage. And theyâd then presented you with a list of all the potential candidates for husbandâevery eligible bachelor from the Kamo clan to the rather obscure Fujiwara clan. The list had gone on and on with their names and ages.
And at the very end youâd spottedâ
Zenin TojiâAge: 38 (once divorced).Â
As soon as the elders had noticed you focusing on that one name, theyâd dismissed you with a nervous chuckle. âOh, thatâs just Toji. Ignore him, heâs just there out of obligation-â
âBut why would I ignore him?âAnd that had effectively shut them up.
Although what you really wanted were more answers.
Toji.
Toji.
Most of the other candidates ranged across their twenties, and they were names youâd heard of in mere passing during those stuffy clan functions. Toji, however, was beyond that age range and once divorcedâand youâd heard of him almost too well. You knew him without ever knowing him.
Youâd heard of the newly-appointed Zenin clan leader as he fought against every single elder to claim his rightful title as head - the first one sinceâŠever without a speck of cursed energy.
Youâd heard of the terror of the Zenin clan - or so they whispered - who could bring down battalions with a single swipe of his cursed weapons. He didnât need cursed energyâand what they feared above all was the power of raw humanity underneath it.
ButâŠyouâd also heard of the merciful man. The first Zenin clan leader to grant his wife a divorce when she wished for it, thus leaving him printed once more upon a paper listing jujutsu societyâs bachelors.Â
Leaving him impressioned in your mind.
Zenin Toji was an enigma you wanted to understand.
And you laughed at the expressions upon your eldersâ faces as you announced that the sole candidate you were interested in was none other than the notorious Toji. You could count on one hand how many had readily agreed to your union with the older manâand that would be exactly zero fingers.Â
However, the meeting had proceeded as tradition dictated. Your council of elders reached out to the uptight council of the Zenins - and theyâd reached out to re-confirm thrice that the man you were really looking for was Toji. Wasnât he much older? Wasnât he fearsome? Wasnât he difficult to understand?
You waved off their worries and met him over a fragrant tea ceremony.Â
To be quite honest; there wasnât much talking between the two of you - although the Zenin elders kept up a constant stream of chatter with the elders of your own family. Meanwhile you simply looked at Toji over the rim of your ceramic cupâandâwatchedâ
And he met your gaze just as intensely.
By the end of the tea ceremony, you nudged your elders to proclaim your approval for a union.
And Toji nodded his own approval.
The wedding preparations were accomplished in a week. It was a wedding for the history books - you heard that your council of elders were pushing to get it written in already - and it ended off with a lavish banquet that lasted into the long, long hours of the night.Â
As sunlight started seeping into the horizon, you and Toji got up from your seats at the head of the table. And you made your way to the master bedroomâwhere rows upon rows of elders sat outside in preparation for the consummation.
They were here to hear you-
âFuck.â You canât stop the sudden whimper that escapes you at the feeling of Toji hiking up one of his muscular thighs. He still had his wedding robes on - dishevelled upon his frame, the graze of expensive Zenin cotton nâ silk makes you shiverâ
And as soon as you do, you feel one of his large palms settle at the base of your spine.
Toji keeps you pinned down - deliciously helpless - once he reaches that upright leg forwards and rests his heel atop your scalp. Stepping on your sweaty crown. Keeping you pinned in one place as he fucks you- with a sheer audacity that makes your jaw drop.
âCareful.â Tojiâs low tone trundles out. Youâre bent into such a shape that it makes his cock thicker- stretchinâ out your snug channel with a sultry squeeeelch! âKeep your mouth open like that and youâll catch flies.â
Leaning down as far as he could, he then spits.
âOr youâll catch me.â
A few more vicious strokes that leave you gaping.
A few more changing angles- Toji was the type to not just straightly thrust. He was stirring his cock âround in somewhat circular motions of his hips as he pummeled inside, managing to hit eeeeevery single nerve-ended spot inside you. âAnd- hah, and we wouldnât wanna explain that to those old toads, heh?â Asking you. And thenâŠnot you. âIsnât that right, fuckers?â
Thereâs restless murmuring from outside.Â
âW-well, maybe if youâfuuuuuck.â Just as soon as youâre mid-sentence - as though Toji had been waiting for this exact moment - he reaches forwards and slams! his ruddied tip into you hard enough that you can feel him in your damn throat. âFuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-âÂ
âLoud.â Scoffing. âThough I bet they already know whatâs happening- hah.â
You were in utter shambles.Â
Tojiâs cock was sensually curved towards the right - the perfect angle to spot those areas where you were most sensitive and stimulate them until you were crying. âY-youâre so shamelessâ!â
With a roll of his forest-green eyes, the clan leader crouches his body further forwards and accelerates his pace. His heel pressing down even harder.
With this position he had you in, Toji couldnât keep his palm glued to your drivelling maw anymore. And he was letting it aaaaaall outâthe more nâ more pretty moans that were leaving you, the more heâs speeding up his hips. Purposefully thumping his blushinâ red tip down your most precious spots.Â
And as if that wasnât enough, heâs using his free hand to sift apart your stuffy pussy. Pressinâ aside your folds and getting a good eyeful of your entrance - getting flooded with his rock-hard inches, and then emptied out for him to do it all over again. And again. And again and again andââAnd who was it that decided to marry me?â
You donât know whatâs hitting you harder: the shock of being called out, or the sudden wad of saliva that heâs spitting between your legs. âWellâŠmeâŠâ
Toji nods. âPretty young thing like youâŠfor what reason could you want to marry- me-â Every space between his words was punctured with a targeted strike to your g-spot. âMoney? Name? Power?â
Your headâs getting foggy - you donât even realize that youâre drooling before Toji looks down and tuts. He watches as a slick puddle formulates underneath youââDid you wanna marry this olâ clan leader for power, doll? Sâthat what you wanted?â
As much as you could, youâre shaking your head- difficult, given the way he still had the heel of his foot on you.
âNo? Then what?â Toji pretends to think. âHmmm, could it be that your clan elders pressured you into this, doll?â And just at that moment, he stops- even though it seems as if he wanted to say more. âIâll kill you all ifââ
It wasnât targeted towards you.Â
But youâre vehemently denyingââNo. No. Not at allâŠâ Sobs and sultry moans strangle in your throat, and your poor, poor hips are driving back into his as much as you could. âPlease- oh, I j-just wantedââ
âLet me think.â Now that heâd started his vigorous pace up again, your eardrums were crackling with the constant pap-pap-pap! of Tojiâs toned hips hitting yours. He was just so large - in every possible way, it was as though he was engulfing you with his massive body, with his shaft stretchinâ out your insides in ways youâve never experienced before. âIs it because- haaaaahâŠâ Toji breathes, the cloud of his heated breath wafting down your arched spine. âIs it because you knew that those other- boys couldnât fuck you as well as I could?â
Your jaw drops- âFuck.â
But it seems that Toji had found his footing. He drags you even harder against him - the ramming of your two bodies almost violently shaking the flooring beneath. âIs it because you knew that- mmm, this pussy would always be satisfied with me?â Whatever little jostling youâre experiencing at his movements, heâs considering it a nod. âIs it because youâd been greedy? Because youâve been yearning-â
Somehow, heâs tipping his head backwards and managing to perfect a stream of spit down onto your stuffed cunt.
â-for someone more mature. Someone that knows how to handle a pussy, doll?â Voice dipped in lust. âHave you been yearning for Zenin Toji to fuck you properly?â
âY-yesââ You pitch out softly. Sniffling. Seeing stars behind your eyelids. âToji, mâso closeâŠâ
âSo cum, then?â He snickers, as though it should be the most obvious thing in the world. âWhatâre you waiting for? Permission?â Leaning back and projecting his voice - though, not for you. âJust so yâknow, Iâm gonna make my wife cum.âÂ
âOh-oh my godââ The words crackle in your throat as a final bash to your syrupy-sweet spot leaving you careening into your high. Stars of pleasure burst behind your shuttered lids - and youâre dragged through wave upon wave of white-hot bliss.Â
It overtakes you like nothing youâve ever felt before.
And Toji was only more than happy to prolong them using his length. Hitting you right when your peaks were at their highest - and if you were in the right state, then youâd wonder how he even managed to time them - and making your veins feel molten within. Making you whimper and thrash into him. Thrashing and thrashingâfucked like youâve never been before through your orgasm.
Youâre so hazy afterwards that you barely even register the shuffling outside the bedroom - as the elders started making their way back to the banquet. Mission accomplished, you suppose.
And Toji takes his foot off your head.Â
âHaaaaah, fuck.â He hisses. âWant to give them an encore, my wife?â
You couldnât nod faster.
Before you know it, heâs tipping his head back and calling out - at the eldersâ
âGet ready for an encore, fuckers.â
⥠NANAMI KENTO - Parent-teacher DATING?!
âMs. TeacherâŠâÂ
Itadoriâs sweet, sweet voice breaks through your conversation with one of the parents; and youâre looking down to see him clasping one end of your flower-patterned apron. Pink brows furrowed. Chubby cheeks puffed. And how could anyone resist that face?
So throwing an apologetic smile at the parent, youâre leaning down slightly so that you could hear the little boy better. âYes, Yuji?â
He cups a hand over his mouth then leans in towards your ear as if to whisper. âI have a secret to tell you.â And he does not whisper.
Still, you bite back a giggle and ask. âOh, really? How exciting. Do I get to know that secret, Yuji?â
He nods.
Then leans in once more-
âMy papa has a big, big crush on y-â
âYujiâ!â
You didnât have to look up to see that it was none other than Nanami Kento, Itadoriâs father, pushing past a few gossiping parents and kids playing jumprope- heading in your direction. He quickly clasps Itadoriâs arm and gently tugs the boy away, âI am so, so sorryâI have no idea whatâs gotten into him-â Nanami pinches the top of his nosebridge with a sigh. âHe seems to have gotten it into his head that I have f-feelings for you, andâŠâ
You watch, almost astounded, as the ever-stoic Nanamiâs ears burn bright red.
âA-and I sincerely apologize if he made you uncomfortable in any way-â
âOh, no.â Youâre raising your hands up and fervently shaking your head. âHe didnât make me uncomfortable at all. Did you, Yuji?â
âYup!â Those tufts of pink hair atop his head bounce as he nods as well, beaming - happy to see that you were on his side, at the very least. He then turns back to Nanami. âI didnât make Ms. Teacher uncomfortable, papa. I just told her what you told me-â
âSunshineâŠâ Nanami grumbles, though with less panic in his voice this time.
And youâre biting back a smile as you look between the handsome father and his son; itâd been two years since Nanami had adopted Itadori, according to what the man had told you when heâd first enrolled the boy in Tokyo Jujutsu Elementary. Since then, youâve had the privilege of watching over the father-son duo as they become closer, as they found family in one another, as they opened themselves up to both the school and you.Â
And although you knew you shouldnât have favorites as a teacher - you canât deny that one of the best parts of your day was seeing the two.Â
Yes, the two.
It didnât quite help that Nanami Kento was the talk amongst the single ladies and men at pick-up. Tall. Tender. With his broad shoulders and his blond hairâalways slicked back, not even a single strand out of line.Â
Nanami was the type of man to hold doors open for students, other parents, and teachers alike - heâd happily stand there for half an hour as an entire grade passed by, if he had to.
Nanami was the type of man to not worry about what anyone thought of him as he let his energetic son paste stickers all over him, or use the play make-up heâd snagged from Kugisaki.
Nanami was the type of man to buy you a large bouquet of roses for Teacherâs Day- roses. And heâd apologized for at least fifteen minutes about not meaning any sort of innuendo, and heâd completely understand if you didnât want to take themâyouâd cut him off then nâ there by taking them with a gracious thank you. Even if others at pick-up shot you knowing smiles.Â
So could you blame yourself if you happened to form a crush on the man?
And hearing what Itadori had to say about it nowâŠ
âI wouldnât mind, yâknow.â You speak once youâd ushered Itadori to play with some of his friendsâFushiguro and Kugisaki had just been dropped off. And Nanami was still standing next to you, watching as his son scampered off after causing perhaps the most chaos heâs ever experienced in his life.Â
But ahâŠyour voice was low enough that it couldnât be heard by anyone around you two. Perhaps not even Nanami himself- but of course, he heard.
Of course, he heard.
He turns to you with widened eyes, âI uhâŠI- excuse me?â
You turn back to him with a grin, âHow about coffee sometime this week?â
âI have a better plan.â As soon as the first bout of shyness wears off, heâs clearing his crackling throat and answering you. âHow about dinner?â
.
.
.
âFuck. Fuck. Fuh-fuck.â Nanami wrenches between clenched teeth. His hot breath sticks against the side of your throat; and every single puff makes your skin erupt with perspiration.Â
Which worked for himâit just let the movements between your two ravenous bodies proceed even faster, slipperier, sloppier. Nanami has you pressed flat against his neat mattress, in a bedroom that was humble and meticulously organized - and with Itadori at Fushiguroâs for a sleepover, the two of you could let those ancient bedsprings creak as much as they liked.Â
Nanami could fuck you as hard as you liked.
Heâs grinding that golden happy trail into your front; both palms pressed flatly atop your inner thighs to keep them open. To keep you stretched as faaaaar apart as you could goâbecause fuck- Nanamiâs cock was thick enough that he had to pin you down nâ squeeeeeeze his inches inside as far as they could go.Â
Rubbinâ his prominent veins along your walls. Entire body tensing up whenever you clench-
âFuuuuuuck.â With a heavy sigh, heâs letting his head tip backwards. And honestlyâyou donât think youâd ever seen a more attractive sight.Â
Youâve always known that Nanami was ripped underneath those office button-ups of his - but this was damn-near Herculean. The way his shoulders were defined and pulled taut as they closed in on you, the way his chest was absolutely lusciousâyou almost wanted to take a bite. And youâd guessed that with energetic Itadori as a son, he hadnât had the time to hit the gym lately.
Because there was a layer of thickness over his muscles that left Nanami softer and stronger- the soft curve of his belly pushes down on your core.Â
Jostling your body back nâ forth with every honed thrust.
Banging at the back of your cervix and your throat- âFuck. It feels so good, Kento.âÂ
âS-soooooo fucking good.â And you wonder which one of you two was more gone on your syrupy cunt: you or him. Nanami struggles to keep his damn head up- collapsing into the crook of your neck and letting out botched groans- every single time his sensitive tip slid uuuuuup your channel into its deepest depths. He almost sounded as though he was in pain as he weptââF-forgive me, darling.â
Perking your head off the plush pillows, âWhat for, Kento?â
âWell itâs justâŠâ And his foggy glasses were still on his face - which Nanami pushes up his nose bridge. âI havenât felt this good inâforever. So forgive me if Iâm a littleâŠâ
And then heâs surging his hips forwards and giving you a good thwack! with the rounded end of his shaft. Enough to make stars appear in your vision-
â-rough.â
And then itâs like the floodgates have opened.
Because Nanamiâs grip on you grows hard enough to leave fucking nail marks, his sweat splashes with the urgency of his movements. âAnd I wanted to f-fuck you all niiiiiice and slow like this pretty pussy deserves.â Those strong arms keep manhandling you open as he shovels straight into you. âW-wanted to show you that a mature man like me could- hngh, make you feel the best youâve ever felt.â
âBut I already doâŠâ You huff out, arms thrown needily around his neck.Â
Yet Nanami doesnât seem to hearâhe doesnât even seem to register. At least, the only acknowledgement that you get of your response is the way his body flinches ever-so-slightly at the mere sound of your voice. âAnd yetâŠâ Those hazel-brown eyes of his widen as they run down your body, ultimately resting where your pussy was bloated all âround him. âAnd yet, one kiss of these pretty lips and Iâm done for.â
âD-done forâŠâ You repeat - mostly because you donât know what else to do.
Donât know what else youâre capable of doing other than wrapping your weak legs around his waist. Your hamstrings stretch and scream; and youâre sobbing yourself as his pace seems to accelerate.
âI can feel myselfâŠâ Nanami speaks through a watery mouth. â-getting fucking addictedâshit, like some hormonal punk. I should know better. A man my ageâŠâ
âOh- oh, Kento.â
âI should know better- I should fucking know better.â He admonishes himself - though that doesnât stop or even slow down the feral pap-pap-paps! of his pelvis hitting yours. Through scrunched-up eyes, heâs gazing upon you. âC-canât believe you got some old man like me-â Despite your instant protests. â-to finally break.â
After a few more sudden strikes - almost animalistic - youâre managing to string together enough syllables. âButâŠI donât mind, Kento.â
And thatâthat might just be the one thing that makes him falter. âPardon?â He blinks up at you with glazed-over eyes.
Nodding, âI promise I donât mind.â In fact, youâre tugging him in with a fistful of his blond strands between your fingers. âI- ngh! want you to go even harderâŠif you can-â
âOf course I can, my love.â The both of you are startled by his instant answer. âI-I mean, if you know that it means I might leave a few marks andâeven more marks.â Perhaps most notably on your spongy cervix, welcoming his bashing thrusts.
But you donât mind. Like you said.
Youâre nodding even harder, âYes, please.â
So polite. How could he ever refuse?
And in the blink of an eye, the blond-haired man leans over to clasp that patterned tie draped over his bedpost. Itâd gotten thrown there sometime after the frenzy of getting home - quite convenient for when Nanami wanted to throw it loosely over his clammy neck and give you the other end to hold ontoâ
âDonât be afraid to pull if it gets too much.â He puffs out at you in a breezy breath.
âToo much?â You ogle up at his handsome face. You half-jokingly wondered whether the bed - and perhaps you - would be in one piece by the time that Itadori gets home tomorrow. It was going to be a never-ending nightâŠ
âMhm, because this is going to be rough, darling.â
⥠GETO SUGURU - Controversy.
WHO IS ROCKSTAR HEARTTHROB GETO SUGURUâS GIRLFRIEND? HOW CAN WE BE HER?!
GOLD DIGGER?! BASSIST OF 6EYES SHUTS DOWN MALICIOUS RUMORS SURROUNDING BEAU: SAYS THEY ARE âBULLSHITâ.Â
DILF OFF THE MARKET: GETO SUGURU CONFIRMS RELATIONSHIP OF âYEARSâ HE SAYS.Â
Everyone knew of Geto Suguru. Or so it seemed when they were screaming his name and cursing yoursâeveryone wanted to be with him.Â
Or be him.
Who wouldnât? Thick rings. Grey-black hair. Feline smile.
A 6â2, long-haired dreamboat that just-so-happened to be the bassist of the hottest rock band on the charts right now: 6Eyes. Theyâd been discovered quite early on - when theyâd just been out of high school, actually - and had maintained a steady presence in the music scene ever since. Shattering record after record and filling stadium after stadium. By the time youâd gone with some of your college friends to one of their concerts, they were already titans in the industryâand youâd been an instant fan.Â
So imagine your surprise when your friend announced that one of the security had invited your group backstage.Â
That was the night youâd met Geto Suguru - youâd locked eyes and the both of you had just known.
You signed that NDA. You met for dates under disguises. And youâd even met his young adopted daughters- oh, you adored them.
Several months later, when TMZ or some other site had broken the story of Geto secretly dating a fan over ten years younger than him - and that was when scandal ensued. The fandom was rabidâand you understood.
Though Geto, who was rather used to biting headlines and speculation, told you that the whole thing would blow over soon enough- you holed up in your shared penthouse. You turned off your social media notification. You tried not to turn on any celebrity news channel.Â
And you decided: the very least you could do is make a good first impressionâŠ
âEasy nowâŠeasy thereâŠâ Geto holds the recorder in one hand nâ the side of your hips in his other. Youâre maddeningly aware of both the rolling tape and the way his puckered, pretty tip is getting guided to your entranceââDonât strain yourself now. Trust Suguru.â
Just the very first inch of it slipping lusciously between your pussylips and easing inside.
Geto was always so thick, donning numerous veins that creep up the sides of his shaft in zig-zagging patterns. And the sheer girth of him intruding is enough to make you gasp-
âMmm, thatâs good.â The older man murmurs with a smile- long, greying hair forming a curtain around the two of you. âLetâs try again. A little louder this time.â Before he reels his hips back the mere inches heâs squeezed inside, and then ramminâ right back in again - it sounds the loudest squelch! as youâre taking even more of him. âOhhhh, thatâs good. Maybe I can use that as the outro, heh?â
âMaybe just use it for the entire ch-chorus.â You hiss.
âTrying to take my spotlight?â Geto leans down to kiss your swollen lips- or so you think. Heâs pressing his pierced mouth against yours and gnawinâ down on your lower lip.
âScared of- mmpf. Scared of being ousted by the young new talents?â
The edges of his lips curling upwards. âA rock veteran like me? Oh, I donât think I have anything to be scared ofâŠâ
And you can only moan straight into his greedy, greedy maw as youâre jostled back and forth. Getoâs thrusts were oh-so-merciless and puncturing deeeeep into your wombâusing the smooth Prince Albertâs piercing atop his flared tip, heâs torching every hidden spot and nerve-end inside. Mazinâ around your walls and pushing into those little ridges that just made your back arch into him-
His eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles.Â
âHey hey-â The only thing snapping you out of your frenzy is Getoâs sharp tuts. He stalls your restless hips by hooking his fingers into your thighs and throwing them over his broad shoulders- dragging you back into him. âDonât run away, gorgeousâthe studio sessionâs not over yet.â
âI wasnât running away.â You huff.
âSure seemed like it to me.â He grins - that silver piercing of his glinting in the dim lighting. It was the type of Cheshire-cat grin that you knew wouldnât bode well for youâŠand as soon as youâre thinking about it, Geto opens his sensual mouth and spitsâstraight between your lips.
The wad lands softly on your tongue.
And Geto himself reaches a second ringed hand up to close your jaw- to urge you to swallow. âRemember to keep those vocals hydrated, gorgeous. Weâre getting to the good part now.â
You think you could gasp at the audacityâbut whatâs leaving you instead are a series of long, lewd moans. Mewls. Pleas.Â
Heâs drawing them out over and over again by hiking your thighs up his shoulders and pressing you into a mean mating press- lunging his body down into yours. Crushing your pliable self underneath him. Slashing your cervix with loooooong thrusts and his ropey precum puddling sweetly at the back of your pussy.
âYeah- yeah, louder now.â Pushing the recorder even closer. âLouder, girl.â
âI amâoh.â With the way he was fucking you like he almost hated you - though it was rather the opposite - your sentences warble with hiccups and gasps. The lines of his veins were somehow massaging the exact hidden spots that drove you wild.Â
âYou got this.â
âFuck-â
âLouder. Sâjust you and me.â This was exactly what he wanted to hear - his favorite melody was you. âJust a bit of chopping up nâ remixing- this is perfect. Gonna sound so fuckinâ pretty to my bass.â
âFuh-feels so good-â
âMhmmm, I know, gorgeous. Now let the listeners know.âÂ
Making your noise pitch upwards in volume.Â
After a few more strokes, he bores down at you with a thoughtful expression. âNowâŠwhy donâtcha try calling me âSuguâ for the recording?â
âYou want me to be sappy? Okay, rockstar.â Youâre unable to bite your tongue fast enough- though your snapping only makes him even more excited.
Amethyst eyes glistening. âOh, donât be a diva just yet, newbie.â The older musician brings the audio recorder closer to catch your every breath, âTrust me. Iâve been in this industry for a loooooong time- câmon now. Listen to your- heh, vocal coachâsay âSuguâ.â
How you loved riling him up just as much as he did to you. âThen give me something good to moan for, baby.â
âDonât test my patience, superstar.â
Though he does as you say.Â
You should have expected it all the same; the rockstar had mapped out every single good spot inside you. And it was with a near-photographic memory that heâs inching his length backwards- until it was just his lavish red tip lickinâ up your entrance.
Just for a secondâŠjust for twoâŠ
Before slamming into your g-spot so hard nâ suddenly that you almost sob.
Making your cunt mold to the exact texture of his circular piercing- hitting your sensitive area first, before then pushing his smooth tip into it as well. Youâre feeling every bit of himâand youâre making sure that your future audiences can hear it, too.Â
âS-Suguâ!â Youâre thrashing in his arms- and heâs crashing and crashing his hips into you. Gluing the heated, stinging pink skin of his pelvis against yours so ferally that you canât keep up with his pace no matter how fast youâre attempting to buck and bounce.
âOh, that oneâs going in the intro for sure.â He titters.Â
âSâfucking mean.â You whimper as he pushes down on your lower half - purposefully, so that his scruffy happy trail scratches your clit.
âSugu knows best.â So sweetly, he kisses your foreheadâand you wonder whether the loud smacking sound that he leaves behind is more for the recorder or to make you squirm. Shy, much? âNow how about I fuck you pregnant nâ we just announce the baby on the album?â
You pause for a second - before a smile twitches at your lips. âA rockstar baby? You read my mind.â
He reciprocates. âAlways knew you were made fâme.â
The headlines were sure to love this.
⥠CHOSO KAMO - MY UNCLEâS GF?!
Someone had suggested playing two truths and a lie:
You werenât a lot older than Choso- at least in his eyes. That didnât matter to him.
Choso has always wanted you.
Heâs over that now, though.
Chosoâs palms are sweaty âround his lightweight beer as he utters the words; words just a little louder than he intended them to be. Maybe that was the pre-game finally kicking inâbut he couldnât blame it on that, either. Had it been called three truths and a lie, then Choso would have also confessed that he was stone-cold sober as he murmurs two of his deepest secrets to the little circle of drunk college kids.Â
And you.
YouâŠyouâre looking at him like youâd already guessed heâd say that.
Had he really been that obvious? Choso first met you three years ago, during his sophomore year in college, when heâd gone home for the holidaysâand discovered that, this year, Sukuna had been dragged home, too. ExceptâŠhis uncle hadnât come alone this time.
Heâd brought along- you.Â
You were the one to greet him at the doorâand Choso remembers his breath catching in his chest. He remembers feeling his heart bang against his ribcage. He remembers his eyes widening- and his mouth gaping stupidly as you introduced yourself.
So caught up in you, heâd been forced to ask Sukuna for your name again-
âBack off.â His uncle had scoffed, crimson eyes narrowing. Honestly - Ryomen Sukuna was the only person alive that could make cotton candy-pink hair look intimidating. âDonât think I donât see the way yer looking at her.â
Heâd probably stammered something intelligible-
âLook all ya want- if she feels uncomfortable, sheâll thump ya herself. But you canât touch.â Sukuna set his beer bottle down. âMâactually serious about this one.â
And Choso could see why - you were the first person that Sukuna had ever brought into the Itadori family home. You were smart. You were funny. You werenât afraid to put the pink-haired man in his place. You were fucking gorgeousâ
AndâŠyou were Sukunaâs girlfriend. Ten years older than Choso.
Which is why - no matter how badly you made his heart flutter - Choso had vowed to never, never so much as even think to act upon his feelings for you.Â
He just had to grit his teeth and avoid prolonged conversation with you during every family function and gathering you attended with Sukuna- of which the man was making an appearance at every single one now. Almost as though to provoke him even more.Â
And Choso was forced to make peace with the fact that heâd never make peace with his feelings.
That isâŠuntil the two of you broke up.
Heâd heard news about it just a few weeks ago, actually- his father had said something about Sukuna being down in the dumps after youâd broken up with him. Something about not making enough time and drifting apartâChoso hadnât heard the details, heâd been too overwhelmed with the guilty glee thatâd shot through his body and made his heart pound. And then just tonight - oh, how he wished he could kiss whoever was looking down at him (but no, that was saved for youâŠ) - Choso just-so-happened to run into you at the bar he was attending with his friends.
So of course he had to invite you over to their table.
Of course, he had to ignore your protests about being older than them all. None of that shit mattered.Â
Of course, he had to sit right opposite you on the table and divulge his greatest secret - one heâd been keeping to himself for three years now.
Youâre just opening your mouth to respond-
When Chosoâs feeling a harsh smack! on his back and one of his friends crowing in his ear. âAtta boy! You never struck me as the type to like MILFs, man.â
âTechnically Iâm not a MILF yet.â You giggle, fixating your gaze upon him. He almost flinches. âBut youâre rightâŠI never thought youâd be the type to like older women. Iâm ten years older than you, Choso, you know that right?â
Choso mumbles almost too quietly to hear. âTh-that doesnât matter to meâŠâ
âYeah- and youâd probably like that âmaâamâ shit, eh?â His friend guffaws, making the now-bashful Choso - whatever courage he had liquified - duck his head. âOh- sorry I didnât meanââ
âNo, no.â You dismiss the babbling college boy. âIâm not offended at all. In fact, you might be right.â
The table bursts into wolf whistles-
And itâs a blur until youâre ragging with the banter a little more - before discreetly excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Chosoâs staring up at you - totally not admiring your back like some pathetic lovesick fool - before catching your gaze and your pointed wink.
And then heâs scrambling right after you. As discreetly as a sledgehammer.
.
.
.
Nose buried into the crook of your neck. Mouth gaped wide open- letting out the sweetest crackling moans into your skin.Â
Choso had you pushed against the bathroom stall - clean, donât you worry - with his arms wrapped around your body nâ his cock shoved between your legs. Dragging in and out in a way that was so messyâheâs roverinâ around his globules of cum with that fat tip of his, and then reeling his hips rapidly backwards to spray it down your walls over and over.
Heâd cum as soon as heâd put it inside.
And it wasnât his fault.
Honest!Â
âOh- oh.â And now he was panting desperate breath after breath between thrustsââIâm sorryâŠthe condom broke, baby.â Chosoâs lower lip cutely trembles as he speaks. âCanât help it. And then your pussyâs just so warm and welcoming a-andâŠâ
His breath hitches as he hits that one gluttonous spot that makes you clench.
â-and I just- canât- when youâre squeezing me like that.â
Basically hypnotized, Chosoâs slender fingers dip down between your legs. And so swiftly - that youâre almost surprised at his nimbleness - he pulls out of your wet hole nâ clasps his hand around his barely-wrapped length. The rubber condom had been too tight around him, and itâd shattered into a million piecesâChoso looks up at you through his doe-like lashes, and waits until youâre nodding.
Thatâs when heâs wringing off his broken condom and squeezing out whatever wetness it held. Pushing out the cum back onto your pussy.Â
Making such a mess.Â
Those pure-white droplets that end up splattered back down on your pussy- warm and utterly unwholesome. A sinful cover. He wasnât leaving a single ounce wasted. âSh-shit.â Chosoâs mouth gapes wide open. âItâs all your faultâŠâ
Just the cutest trickle of saliva makes its way down his lips - and youâre reaching upwards to wipe it away. âAwwww. Ever done it raw before, Cho?â
After a brief bout of hesitation, he shakes his head.
âIâve never done it before.â He confesses. Your eyes widen, so he was a virginâŠ
âThen are you sure you can handle it, baby? No need to push yourself if-â
âNo.â He gasps. Sharp. Shot-through. It leaves his lips before he even knows whatâs happening- and then youâre clenching again in a way that makes his brows twist together, and his fingers dig into your waist. âNo, no, no, no-â Eyes frenzied. âWe donât have to stop fâme, baby. We donât even have to slow downââ
Cum-coated; his thickened cock gets sandwiched between your lips then jerked back and forth a few times. By now he was so wet with slick nâ sap that it was making him slip a few times before heâs actually managing to get it in againâand that, too, with your help.Â
You reach down to help grip Chosoâs raging-hot erection, and guide it inside your cunt: an action that leaves the other man blushing down to the roots of his hair. Even his tip throbs just a little harderââTh-thank you, maâam.â
Your brows raise in amusement- and it only hits him then. So he was into the âmaâamâ thing.
âI mean- baby.â He sounds so utterly ruined. âThank you, baby. Promise I can handle it now, mâkay?â
And ohâŠyou canât deny that it was just so fun to tease him. âHmmmâŠI dunno, Choso-â
Chocolate-brown bangs sticking to your skin, heâs lurching his face away to bore straight into your eyes. âI-is it because Iâm younger?â He asks with a hint of desperation, and your lips part as your exâs hot nephew keeps steamrolling away with his pussydrunken mouth. Poor, poor Choso. âBecause I promise I can handle it. I can fuck you- ngh, the best. Promise mâgonna make you feel soooooââ
Chosoâs hips were hammerinâ away at a pace youâd never have suspected- and his hips end up crushed against yours. So close that the scruff of his happy trail scratches your clit raw.
â-g-good.â A single tear track runs down his face - youâre unsure whether heâs talking about you or himself.
âEasy there, tiger.â Youâre pushing back on a stray lock of his hair- darker now with perspiration. The sweet gesture makes Choso huffs.Â
It wasnât doing him any favors, however, as that only made him look even cuter. Youâre craning your neck and planting a chaste peck on his bubblegum-pink lipsâonly for Choso to take control of the kiss and softly bite down on your bottom lip. âBaby-â He rasps. And with just how sweet Choso had always been to you, you couldâve almost forgotten how strong he was- how easily he could bounce you down on his cock- how needy he was for you. Feral. Even though you had him wrapped âround your finger, he was jostling your pussyâs inside like craaaazy. âDonât do that. Donât baby me- I need to be taken- ngh, s-seriously by you, mâkay?â
âOhâŠâ Youâre letting out a heated breath as his tip empties out at your cervix.
And to prolong that sensation; Choso claws his hand up and pushes on the lower part of your stomach. Right beneath where your cunt was expanding and contracting with his cock. âFeel how big I am?â He doesnât stop putting pressure on that spot until youâre nodding - âHow hard? How much Iâm leaking?â Just on cue, a splatter! of precum leaks between your pussylips.
And with something like a broken whimper- Choso snakes his fingers down to push the leakage back up your channel.Â
âO-ohâthis pussyâs so fuckinâ wet. And I can handle it- I can handle it.â He utters more to himself. The more heâs speaking, the harder and longer heâs fucking you, the more ruined he sounds. âMânot as innocent as you think, baby.â
âOh? Do tell.â You smile.
Such a gorgeous, gorgeous smile that he almost hesitates wiping away with a roll of his thumb - stimulating the nerves of your clit. But it makes you break out into the prettiest lewd expression that leaves him rutting his hips even harder, âDo you have any idea how fuh-fucking long Iâve waited for this? How badly Iâve wanted to- ngh, stuff my cock and fuck you like an animal?â As he trails off, he feels his stinging tip start to twitch even more wildly. Dangerously. âFuckââ
âH-how long?â Youâre asking with a smug smirk.
Chosoâs blinking a few times just to let the question register- and finally muttering. âEven when you were dating- him. Ever since I first saw youâŠâ And then he rubs his thumb at an even more steadied pace, matching it to the pushes of his spearing cock. âYou were wearing that red dress of yours- hah, and I could see the strap of your pretty pink bra peaking outâŠthe one with the bows on-â
That makes you gasp.
Which Choso takes advantage of to plaster his lips against yours nâ suckle on your tongue.Â
âAnd then-â Barely managing out through kisses- through stabs of his length- through the pleasure. âAnd then you called me âbabyâ as you were getting ready to leave, and I- ngh, knew you were teasing me for being youngerâfuck, I h-had to run to the bathroom just to jerk off.â
Rovering his mushroomy trip straight into your nerve-ended g-spot; youâre arching into his chest as you feel Choso lose his grip on his sanity.
Already having been so loose.
Heâs babbling as he cums long and hard, and oh-so-deeeeeply into your cunt. Mouth ajar. Body collapsing against yours - caging you even further against the bathroom wall. âBaby- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-â
âShit, so muchâŠâ Just feeling the ribbons upon ribbons of creamy-white sap he was emptying out. Hot. hypnotizing. Every stroke managed to hit your best spots, and every push meant your pussy was getting overloaded with his cum. The inches of his shaft were curved just perfectly enough that heâs managing to slip aside your walls and use his tip to circle and circle those webs of cum at the very base of your pussy. All over.Â
Soon enough, youâre feeling a layer of it make its way down your inner-thighsâand Choso still didnât seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. You moan, âH-how can you cum this much- mmpf.â
He captures your lips in another sloppy kiss. âMust be the stamina of a younger guy.â
âChoso youâre pussydrunk.â Youâve never heard him sound so drawling and dreamy.
âHmmmmâŠâ Heâs nuzzling the crook of your neck, leaving bite marks that will be entirely too difficult to explain when youâre going back outside. âDid you cum? Promise I can- ngh, make you cum, tooâŠâ Grazing your skin with his lips.
âProve it, then.â
âYes, maâam.â
⥠RYOMEN SUKUNA - 6âŠ9?
âItâs a fuckinâ pandemic, isnât it?â
Youâre looking at your boyfriend over the rim of your book, âExcuse me?â
Sukuna was seated on the armchair in the corner of your bedroom; just having finished a video call with his brother and his nephew. The bright chatter (at least from their end) had died down some minutes ago, and theyâd bid your boyfriend goodnightâwhich was rather the same routine for these biweekly calls. Despite how much the two of you visited, Itadori Yuji always found it too hilarious to put strange filters on his grumpy uncle.
Except, tonightâŠSukuna had sat in the armchair for a few minutes longer.
Usually; he would join you in bed.
Usually; he would grumble - though with a fond smile on his face - about whatever Yuji had been chattering about before.Â
He was practically an honorary father to the boy, and it always made you smile to see.Â
Usually; he wouldnât look up at you as expressionless as if heâd seen a ghost- as if his soul had wafted away. And ask you about someâŠpandemic? Did Yuji put something in his head again?
At the confused expression on your face, Sukuna was heaving out a sighâpushing up those glasses that were totally, most definitely not glasses and merely a tool he uses toâŠseeâŠbetter up his handsome nosebridge. Sukuna was in his late thirties, and silver was beginning to tinge the edges of his pink hair, climbing up his temples. His crowsâ feet creased as he frowned at you, âTheâŠ67 thing. Itâs a pandemic.â
â67 thing?â You gape, your book plopping down on the bed.Â
âYou heard me.â He scoffs. âIâve been thinking itâs mass hysteria- every brat at his kindergarten keeps repeating it. But there seems to be no pattern or cohesion. I thought it was just those damn kindergarteners, but the other day I even caught Jin saying it-â
âS-sixâŠsevenâŠthing.â Youâre repeating - for no reason other than to confirm to yourself that what youâre hearing was real.
Sukuna straightens in his chair, âSee? Now itâs got youââ
âKuna, like the meme?â Youâre shaking your head, âThe one from the song? Oh my god, itâs not mass hysteria-â
He crinkles his nose. âThe hell is aâŠmeme?â
âYou donât know what aââ How has he been Yuji - of all peopleâs - uncle but still had no idea? You continue, âItâs basically an Internet inside joke- itâs been over for a while now but the kids are still obsessed with it.â Finally gripping your book once more, you level him a look. âYou didnât seriously think it was mass hysteria, did you, Kuna?â
Sukuna crosses his bulky arms and looks away. âTchââ
And when he catches you giggling, he barks-
âWhat?!â
âOh- nothing.â And from the smile upon your lips - Sukuna knew that whatever was coming out of your mouth next wasnât about to be anything sincere.Â
Which is why heâs raising himself off the sofa and climbing up the foot of your bed.
You continue, âItâs just youâre getting old, Kuna.â
Joking; nothing ever riled Ryomen Sukuna up more than teasing him for not understanding some new slang or lyric.Â
And with how much he riled you up sometimesâyou had to get back at him somehow, alright?
Soon enough, heâs pinning you down to the bed - with his toned pelvis pressing down on your waist, and his arms creeping upwards to keep your wrists pushed against the mattress. âSay that shit again. I dare you.â
Youâre leaning up as though to kiss him. âOld man.â
.
.
.
Sukunaâs tongue was zig-zagging wiiiiildly between your legs- striking the soft circle of your entrance and then swervinâ as deeply inside as it could go. Deeper. Deeper.
No matter how fervently his mouth was glued to your pussy.Â
No matter how ravenously.
His hips rut off the bed with every single lickâand that fat, throbbing tip of his kept shovelling nâ shovelling at a synchronized pace with his tongue.Â
He had you twisted in sixty-nine with your pussy latched onto his lips.Â
Sukunaâs own cock squeezing out heavy volumes of his salty precum near your lips, then promptly pushinâ them inside with his thrusts- Sukuna was so loooong and rock-hard that he was managing to swab across every spot and directly target the back of your throat. Playing with that dangly in the back.
Youâre moaning as he squeezes two ringed-decorated fingers into your tight cunt. And he grins as he feels the vibrationsââAh ah- sârude to talk with your mouth full.âÂ
Just then, Sukunaâs planting a smack! on your pussy that makes you pull off of his shaft with a loud pop! âH-heyâŠâ
âWhat?â He trundles. Reaching his hips up and guiding his needy tip back into your mouth, âSpeak.â
All because he knew that youâd attempt to nonetheless- and it would end up with the most lewd noises being muffled into this cock. It would end up with his eyes scrunching shut, his head throwing backwards at the shocks of pleasure. âTh-thought I told you to speak? Hah- not babble. Cock got your tongue or something?â
AndâŠit would end up with you being all huffy nâ puffy. âThatâs not even f-fairâŠâ
âHeh- fair?â From where heâd been nipping at your clit, Sukuna pulls off - just to confirm he wasnât hearing things. He wasnât. And though you couldnât see his expression from this angle, you could practically hear the amusement in his tone. âWhat happened to me being old, huh? You surely donât need me to go easy on you.â
âI d-didnât say thatâŠâ Youâre stubbornly answering him - though the constant drives of his fingers were driving you absolutely mad. Sure.Â
âGood.â And then youâre feeling two more consecutive smack-smacks! atop your bloated folds. âBecause, babydollâŠmâbarely even started.â
In no time, Sukuna has you manhandled so that your stomachâs against the soft bed. Your backâs against his thoroughly toned front - so incredibly strong; he was bulkyâwith a layer of thickness to him that made your skin tingle with want - and his erect cock placed between your legs. He takes a few moments to wetten your core up- because no matter how many times youâve taken him, you think youâll never get used to Sukunaâs sheer size.
And before long youâre clawing onto the headboard for dear lifeâas he damn-near molds your tender cunt to his size. Startinâ at the tip-top of his bloated shaft, and then bouncing you down- down- down so many inches greedily.Â
Utterly greedily.Â
âOh- oh, fuuuuuck.â Hands shooting forwards to grab onto more of the mahogany frame.
But Sukuna stops you right then nâ there by wrapping his right arm around your neck; like a wreath, your pants are immediately cut off. And his muscles bulge as they tightenâthe defined ridges of his biceps pushing against your throat - itâs sensual enough to make your mouth waterâŠâAnd whereâd you think youâre going, huh?â
âNowher- mmpf.â Cut off immediately by the tightening of his muscled restraint.Â
âLyingâs not a good look, brat.â Then his second set of fingers snakes down to spank! your stuffed pussy- right atop your bloated folds. The shockwaves that run up your spine are enough to make you buck and whineâand enough to make him drag you back into him. Again and again. âWasnât stuffing this mouth earlier ânough to teach you a little lesson?â
So stubborn. âNot at all-â
Heâs spitting straight between your lips.
And when Sukunaâs fucking you; itâs with harsh, pointed jabs - scouring deeeeep into the bottom of your pussy and leaving the mark of his cockhead. That rounded bruise you feel throb-throb-throbbinâ away every time he repeats the actionâhe fucks you like he hates you.
And heâs only growing faster, harder by the second.
Only tightening his headlock and wrenching your body back into his. Again and again.
Over and over.
Until the globes of your ass were stinging with impact, and youâve memorized the pattern of his happy trail. Itâs practically a part of you.Â
Sukunaâs rugged cock knew aaaaall the right spots. Making your pupils roll around in the whites of your eyes, and leaving you wondering just how he had this much stamina stillâŠâAwww, câmon now.â His low voice trundles in your ears. âGet your act together, girl. You donât wanna be this cockdrunk for someone so old, huh?â
âI-Iââ
âWhat was it you called me?â He growls, sharp canines nipping at the shells of your ears. âHuh? What was it you called me? See, this fossil âere has some troubleâŠremembering-â
Every syllable of his was punctured by a thorough glide across the velvety channel of your pussy- âUmmm, then in that case, I didnât say anything?â You try your luck.
âNice try.â Sukuna grins. âBut mânot that geriatric yet.â
Another spank. âPlease-â
âWhat did you call me?â
âI-I just meant-â
And another. âWhat did you call me?â
âAnâŠold man.â You feel embarrassed just letting the words slip between your lips.
You didnât think he could get even rougher with his movements - his shaft was throbbing, and his pelvis was smack-smack-smacking into you. So hard that youâre propelled forwards by the sheer force; and Sukuna roughly lurches you back with his headlock. âI might be an old man- cheh. I might not know all theseâŠdamn Internet memes- but I do know how to fuck this pussy right.â To prove his point, he scours in-between your pussylips to squeeze your pretty clit. âLook at her- sheâs in love with me.â
âO-ohââ Eyes fluttering shut.Â
âI know how to make her cry with pleasure. I know how to make her- mmmngh, squeeze like she doesnât want me leavinââŠheh.â He continues muttering into your ear as his hips grow more fervent. âI know how to make her feel so goodââ
Your teeth grit. âShit.â And you recognize the twisting sensation at the pit of your stomach. âK-Kuna, Iâm gonna cum-â
âAnd even better.â He chuckles. Gnawing at the top of your ear shell, before moving down to bite the tender crook of your neck - like a wolf catching his prey. âI might not know those fuckinâ- memes like the youngsters do. But I do know how to make this pussy- cum.â
âS-sooo closeâdonât stop.â Youâre bouncing nâ bouncing back into his pistoning hips.Â
Feeling the pleasure well up. Feeling your head start to spin a little as you near your high-Â
Youâre crashing past your tipping point. And Sukuna gives you one, two, three good strokes to fuck you through the bursts of white-hot pleasure running through your veins - before heâs suddenly setting you free of his headlock and letting you drop straight into the plush pillows.Â
Reeling his damn cock out.
You donât know whatâs louder: your disappointed groan or his rough cackle.
âWhat? Wanted this old man to be nice in bed or something?â As soon as youâre looking over your shoulder, youâre met with Sukunaâs priggish grinâhis sharp canines peaking out at the edges of his lower lip.Â
Grumpily, you nod. âYes? What- canât last orâoh.â
Another smack. âThatâs not gonna work on me again- sorry, babydoll.â And before you know it, youâre being flipped right over - getting your legs thrown over his shoulders and pushed into the meanest mating press youâve ever experienced. âBecause mânot letting my bratty girl properly cum until Iâve had a good few rounds to blow off some steam. And mâsure you can keep up- heh, if notâŠâ
âAnd um- how many rounds might that be exactly?â
Sukuna smirks. â67.â
âI hate you.â
⥠INO TAKUMA - âM-mommy!â
AITA for seducing the HOT rich MILF (40âsF) that I (23M) pool-clean for while her ex-husband and kids were away?! In my defense, sheâs reeeeeally hot.
You freeze.
Ino freezes.
The world itself seems to freeze; all except for the ruby-red tip of Ino Takumaâs cock. Shoved deeeep inside your cunt - deep enough to leave a permanent bruise there - and throbbing away wildlyâheâs cumming with that particular title escaping his lips.Â
And then his lower lip wobbles once- twice- before he ducks down and attempts to hide his face in his arms.Â
âHey hey-â Swiftly, you reach down to push his hands away - youâd be disappointed not to see his pretty expressions as you fucked him even further. All pouty lips and doe-like eyesâIno Takuma was so pretty, and perhaps thatâs what drew you to the younger pool cleaner in the first place. âWhatâs the matter, Taku?â
âI-I didnât mean to call you that- honest!â He stammers out.
To which youâre cocking your head with a sly smile- time to try something. âCall me what, Taku?â
âYâknow what it isâŠâ Ino grumbles, huffing. And when you simply continue to stare at him in slight confusion, heâs rockinâ up into your wet cunt as he speaks- âThe way I c-called youâmommy- oh.â Just as youâd predicted, his velvety length jolts at the mere utterance of that title. Excitedly spurting out a few creamy-white wads of cum that glue to your cervix.
So messy. He was so fucking messy.
How ironic, considering that his entire job was to clean your pool.
Youâd been introduced to Ino through one of your friends - those networks of older rich women with far too much time and money on their hands. Juggling kids and businesses. And youâd just been complaining to them over a gold-flaked brunch that your last pool cleaner had moved towns, and with your kids now entering middle school, the pool was left without use and starting to gather leaves.Â
Thatâs when theyâd shared Inoâs number with youâa reliable pool cleaner. Just graduated college, and so easy on the eyes if they did say so themselvesâŠ
Youâd huffed that youâd tell their husbands- meanwhile you on the other hand had just recently gotten divorced. One too many nights of your husband coming home with a cloud of mysterious perfume around him, or a lipstick stain on his collar - at least youâd gotten a good chunk of everything in the divorce!
But that was all in the past- maybe love just wasnât for you.
You had your kids. You had your gorgeous hillside mansion. You had your hobbies and friends- men just werenâtâŠforâŠ
Fuck, thatâs when heâd showed up at your door.Â
Bright and early. Beaming with all his gorgeous pearly whites; the sweetest smile on such a killer body. Ino showed up in nothing but an unbuttoned flowery shirt and swim trunksâtheir lightning-yellow color perfectly complemented his slightly-tanned skin and messy brown hair. Slightly tawny from the Sun.
âEr, I hope you donât mind.â Ino had said, a sheepish smile on his face. âI thought Iâd get changed for the job before I got here.â
Mind? Mind?!
In simply what world would you mindâit took every speck of reason and rationality in you to dart your eyes away from the plane of his chest, his washboard abs. Sultry shoulders. Slender waist. There was a scattered happy trail that ran between his six-pack and- beneath his swimming trunks.Â
Fuck.Â
Instead, you focused on the tight necklace of shells around Inoâs throat. âC-come in.â
On the first day, you stayed inside - only peeking out occasionally from your bedroom window - as Ino cleaned your pool. You tipped him heavily.
On the second day, heâd told you that it was completely okay with him even if you used the pool whilst he was cleaningâand you took that as your sign. You donned a bikini you hadnât gotten the chance to use in years, and sprawled yourself out on the nearest sun bed - making occasional conversation with him almost as an excuse to ogle him.
And if you werenât mistaken, youâd say that he ogled you too.Â
But you really did discover that Ino was a sweetheart- and made you giggle like a schoolgirl, too. How embarrassing you felt admitting this!
And a part of you was almost relieved when your kids arrived home from school - escorted by their driver - so you could resume your mundane lavishness. But a bigger part of you was already yearning for when youâd see him againâŠ
And so continued the third day.
And the fourth day.
And so on to the fifth and the sixth.
Before you knew it, Ino had been employed as your pool-cleaner for at least a monthâand heâd quickly grown to become someone you and your kids were quite fond of. Even your driver had caught on, and shot you a knowing smile every time you asked him to escort Ino back to his downtown apartment. Perhaps feeling jealous of such an occurrence, your ex-husband had showed up with tickets to an amusement park - already having planned a day trip for your kids.
Theyâd, of course, begged to go. And so youâd agreed.
Leaving nobody inside this vast mansion: but you, Ino, and the growing tension between you two.Â
The only thing was, right before he left, your ex-husband had the audacity to stop Ino and snipe at him. Low and threatening. âTouch her and Iâll make you very, very sorry.â
So, of course youâd fucked Ino as soon as they were out of the house.Â
Squeezing your robe-covered thighs âround his waistâjust so perfectly curved to meet your embrace. âW-we really shouldnât beâŠI mean- Iâm old enough to be your-â
âWorks just fine for me, pretty.â Heâd cut you off. Pulling on the gauzy material of your robe to let your tits spill out- fuck, he was in heaven.
Enough so that itâd taken just putting it in for Ino to cover your luscious inside in his sap. To watch the satiny liquid seep between your pussylips and leave his pelvis gleaming with a sheen. To wrench out the most pathetic calls of your nameâand one particular title that made him want to get swallowed up by the Earth.
Again and again.
Inoâs cock was longer than youâd expected - and all this time, youâd been wondering where the hell heâd been hiding all that in his swimming trunks. Just reaching over six pretty inches. Just smooooth and leaned ever-so-slightly towards the left. Itâs making his bulbous tip drag across every sweet spot inside you, and your thighs quiver as you take him.
Every single inch. Youâre arching your back and mustering up your strength to grind your hips forwards and back, forwards and back.
Milking himâ
âCâmon, baby.â Youâre cooing down at the handsome man. He blinks his teary eyes open- and you just canât help but lean down nâ kiss them away from his cheeks. âCall me âmommyâ again?â
âC-canâtâŠâ Ino blushes down to the roots of his chocolate-brown hair. âItâs embarrassing-â
âBut it gets me so wet, Taku.â You poutâand his eyes widen at your admission. You watch as his pupils shift down- as if making sure. âPleeeeeeeease? Just once?â
And in response, you smush your thighs harder around him. Youâre sure you leave red, red welts on his skin - but that wasnât registering in his mind right now. Nothing was. Nothing but the smooch of your soft velvety insides embracing his cock, and the sensation of cum sploshinâ around inside you. âFineâŠbut only because I wanna impress youâŠâ His breath hitches. â-mommy.â
You shiver. âOh, I liked thatââ
And he does, too, because your cuntâs just suctioning on his length as if you were trying to take his soul. His fucking soul.Â
The thing is- Ino would have gladly given it to you at this moment.
âIt feels good- it f-feels s-sooooo good.â Tears begin to crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and Inoâs fingers dig into the sides of your hips as he bucks upwards. âFuck, it should be illegal for it to feel this good- mommy.â And he canât fucking help itâit echoes before he can stop himself.Â
âTaku, I think you like saying that more than me.â With a soft chuckle, your dominant hand ends up wrapped around his throat. âCâmon now- a little faster for mommy.â
âSh-shutângh.â No matter how hard he attempts to regain control- it doesnât work. He pushes upwards into your soft, syrupy cervix as though marking it.
After a few desperate thrusts, he asks you- âIs this okay?â
âHmmmmâŠâ You pretend to think - and the ruined expression on his face is oh-so-completely worth it. âHow about a biiiiit faster?â
His jaw drops- but he doesnât complain. Heâs grabbing onto either side of your thighs now, and plunging straight into your deepest depthsâmultiple thwacks! every second, it feels like. âH-how about-â
âJust a little faster.â
Doubting himself. âIs that even possible-â
âBut youâd do it for- heh, me wonât you? Youâd do it to make me feel good?â
Nodding and nodding. âYes, mommy. A-anything for you mommyââ Broken moans and pleas cycle at the back of Inoâs throat, and heâs planted his feet flat on the mattress to push himself up ravenously. âMâjust here for you to use me.â
Your eyes widen - your smile grows.
âJust use me-â He gasps, face reddening as he follows your instructions. âFucking use me like a toy. Use me- fuh-fuuuckââ
âA liiiiiittle bitââ Your head tips backwards as heâs entering the perfect pace - rapid enough to leave your thoughts stupidly muddled, but still steady enough that youâre feeling every single ridge, vein, and curve. Giving your walls such a good massageââTh-thatâs perfect, Taku.â You squeeze his pretty neck tighter, and youâre hearing him let out a little hiccup of a sob. âMommyâs so proud of you.â
Oh, and you thought that he was ruined enough already?
You thought that he was reaching his limits?
Because after that particular sentence - oh, youâre evil for that - Ino digs his digits into the flesh of your thighs and rams deep into your womb. His pistoning cock resting there for a brief few split-seconds as he sputtersââL-let me make you a mommy all over again.â
Your breath catches. âDo you even know what youâre asking for, Taku-â
âFucking yes.â His glazed tip twitches dangerously in a way that told you he was oh-so-close to cumming again. Again. âYes, please- fuuuuck, let me get you pregnant. Let me make you a mommy for the third time. I-I promise Iâll be the best- ngh, dad and nothing like that asshole. Iâll take care of you and cherish you and-â
You kiss him to shut him up.
âBut of course, baby.â You hum. âBut you have to be quick before my ex-husband finds out.â
Heâs never cum harder in his life.Â
Verdict: NTA (drop the fucking tutorial, OP).
⥠GOJO SATORU - Sugar, sugarâŠ
Gojo Satoru wasnât technically a DILF - but he was a sugar daddy.
And they called you a gold digger.
Gojo called you business-savvy.
It was a rather unique situation: the relationship between the two of you had started out as a regular sugar daddy-sugar baby relation. You met Gojo Satoru at some stuffy olâ business function when you were the arm candy of some other businessmanâone whoâd been ignoring you in favor of one of his business associates the entire night, of course.
Whatever.
Youâd gotten used to this routine by now - and so youâd drifted by the grazing table with microscopic clean cuts and cheeses you couldnât even pronounce.Â
And that was exactly how your knight-in-shining-suit had sidled up next to you.
With two champagne glasses in-hand and a flirtatious smile upon his face, he handed you one of the drinks. Then you gestured at the businessmen youâd arrived with- and Gojo had the audacity to roll his eyes and pretend to retch. That was when you knew youâd get along.
Tall. Toned. With twinkling blue eyesâand just the slightest bit of silver creeping into his already-white hair. Gojo Satoru was as handsome as he was richâand considering that both aspects occupied a fair share of the conversations tonight, you were rather flattered to be in his presence. Though the CEO of Gojo Corporations didnât waste time: âYâknow, if I was lucky enough to arrive with an angel- Iâd never leave her sight. Why waste time with some geezers over such a gorgeous gal?â
You smiled.
And you left that night with Gojo instead.
From the boxes of jewelries and flights around the world - to the tabloids and online speculation that couldnât get enough of you.Â
CEO of Gojo Corporations finally finds love?!
Gold digger or gold-hearted: All we know about Gojo Satoruâs girlfriend!
Is it sugar baby season? The newest IT Girlâs best red-carpet looks so farâ
But of course, there was always some truth to those headlines. Perhaps.Â
You were Gojo Satoruâs sugar baby. You were in a transactional relationship- though he never laid a hand on you. Not unless you initiated it.
SoâŠwhat was it really?
You got your answer a few months into this limbo of lustâthe two of you finally started dating.Â
And to be quite honest; it wasnât that big of a change at first. The two of you went out for romantic dinners either way. The two of you dodged paparazzi and rumors every step. The two of you bantered and teased as much as you did anyways- the only change would be that Gojo Satoru finally let loose when he fucked you.
Though, at times, he still did like to let his sugar daddy side peek throughâŠ
âA-awwww- just look at you.â Gojoâs hands were rubbinâ furiously down his length - from those curls of white cozily decorating his base, up to that poor, pretty tip that just wouldnât stop cumming. Up and down. Up and down.Â
Salty-sweet heaps of cum were pouring out of his cockhead and splashing down your front- your stomach, your inner thighs, your cunt. He watches as it creates a little waterfall effectâand Gojo reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy with his long fingers. âNo matter what pretty trinkets nâ expensive lingerie you wear- you always look the prettiest covered in my cum, sweetheart.â
âS-Satoruââ Youâre squirming underneath him. Hands clasping the silken sheets.
Your fingers were decked-out in diamond rings. Your lacy lingerie was tugged nâ pulled aside for access.Â
Around you were bracelets upon necklaces upon every piece of jewelry that your heart could desire - Gojo had taken it upon himself to empty out Tokyoâs luxury stores earlier. All for you, of course.
All to drown you inâwhilst he attempted to do the same with his fucking cum-
âI fuckinâ loooooove it when it covers you like this.â He hisses- nose scrunches in a feral way as he glides his fingers across those splatters. Those smears. That ruinous mess. His favorite was to see you like this: pull out game, who? You often scoffed whenever Gojo claimed that his was unmatched. âLove the way it looks like your pretty pussy canât keep it in-â Just another light tap on your cunt. âLove the way it looks so pretty on your skin like thisâmmm, youâve got me obsessed, girl.â
Your thighs were shaky- but not shaky enough to stop you from attempting to pull him even closer. Theyâre wrapping around his waist, and careening him close ânough to kiss your puffy pussylips with his throbbing tip. His length doesnât stop sensitively twitching for a single secondââO-ohâŠgreedy for more, my girl?âÂ
âMore.â Just barely managing to wrangle out. âW-want some moreââ
âFuuuuck.â He whispers underneath his breath - something so ragged in his tone. That blushinâ tip of his was twitching in excitement already, and Gojo probably doesnât even realize before heâs slotted his still-erect length between your legs and his rockinâ away at a slow pace. âYou seriously want more?â
Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation of him intruding your hole- seemingly only growing bigger every time he feels you clenchinâ around nothing. So needy.Â
âYes-â Youâre nodding furiously. Perhaps had this been any other time, then youâd have been almost embarrassed at your unabashed eagerness. âB-but this time, I want it inside, Toru.â
âInside?â Gojoâs pale brows fly to his hairline. âBut youâre already stuffed so full, my sweetheart.â
And then heâs smearing his fingertips between your bloated folds- teasinâ them apart and taking a good look at your entrance. He canât help himself - heâs spitting straight into that puckered holeâand watching at the glossy wad slips down your crevice and only adds to the mess heâs made previously. Youâre shivering as he runs his nimble digits up nâ down your slit and presses on your clit.
âYes, butââ You keen, arching into his firm core. âBut you never really came inside, Toru.â
âOhâŠâ Those glossed lips of his part.
And youâre taking the opportunity to throw your arms weakly around him- âAnd I want it inside this time.â Though Gojo loved teasing you with his creamy-white sapâmaking you beg for it at times, heâs never properly cum inside.
He always thought itâd be too soon: you were younger, after all. And a pregnancy at this point might derail your plans-
âBut I want it.â Had he been babbling this entire time? The sheer determination in your eyes sends a jolt of dark-black need through him - far more primal than he ever thought possible. Far more. Gojoâs blue peripherals glaze over as he clasps his cock even tighter, as though afraid heâs so hard now that itâd fucking fall off.
âShouldnât fall off now.â He whispers breathily.
âWhat?â
âNothing.â Gojo quickly amends. Before he uses the pointed tip of his shaft to web up those dollops of cum heâd spurted âround your thighs and foldsâit creates a gloss of white that he thinks would suit the insides of your pussy so well (did he mention that he was the one to pick out your lingerie colors?) âRound and âround.
It devises the most sinful sounds between your legs. And your breath catches in your throat: âA-are you gonna cum inside or not, Toru? Hurry-â
âSo impatient.â Heâs tutting. Voice low and husky. âI hope you know that if I fuck my cum insideâthen mâgonna fuck you pregnant, sweetheart.â
Goosebumps scatter across your skin.
But Gojo doesnât let you squirm, he doesnât let you move about restlessly- heâs pinning you down with his hips and rumbling lowly in your ear. âMâgonna make sure it takes.â A rough sliiiiiide of his length sandwiched between your cushy pussylips - drooling for him by now. âMâgonna stuff you so full that you wonât even be able to walkââ Another rough slide. A thrust. âMâgonna give you the most precious gift of all - in my eyes.â
âP-pleaseâ!â
As youâre letting your head tip backwards, Gojo reaches his hand up to and clasps your gorgeous, gorgeous face. Smushing your cheeks together in a way that was so pathetic - âAre you okay with that, pretty baby?â
Youâve never heard him sound so serious.
And youâve never yowled an affirmation faster in your entire lifeâ
In the next few seconds, Gojoâs stuffed rawly all the way to the hilt and is messinâ up your insides with determined strokes. Once. Twice. Thrice- he punctures through your clingy walls and hits all the best spots - memorizing your g-spot and running his flared tip along it.Â
And honestly, it doesnât take much - the two of you were already so overstimulated already - before youâre feeling the wave of euphoria start to build up in your stomach already. Almost as lewd of a sensation as the clear twitchinâ mess that Gojo and his length had turned intoâbabbling, gasping, sobbing as he runs his fat cock raw on your velvety walls. Fucking raw.
You were going to make him an actual DILF.
âY-youâre gonna get it nowâŠâ Itâs the last thing heâs getting out before a flood of white sap enters your tight cunt. Getting absolutely drenched from the inside. âWhen have I ever forgone you of a gift, my girl?â
âNeverââ Youâre keening out. Rushes of pleasure start up between your legs- before crackling through your veins and ultimately ending up at your brain.
Hazy and startling at the feeling of him fucking you through both your highs. Thrust after thrust. Gush after gush of both pleasure nâ his milky-white cum.Â
Underneath the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm; you can feel his spurts of cum start to trickle between your legs. It was just as warm as your skin was getting, and creating a little puddle beneath you that Gojo takes one looks at and gasps-Â
âNow now, are you wasting your gift, sweetheartâ?â He cocks his head, genuinely ruined.Â
âN-no?â
âOr do I just have to- heh, regift it to you again?â
âShut up.â
⥠HIGURUMA HIROMI - Ms. Babysitter.
âWe have to be quiet, angel- fuck. Fuck.â Higurumaâs voice sounded raggedâ
Ruined. Nothing but carnal desire creeping up into the edges of his tone; giving you a jolt, considering that youâve known the older man to be nothing but utterly calm and collected.
He was one of the best parents that you babysat for.Â
One of your college friends had recommended you for the job - the hot lawyer in your neighborhood needed someone to look after his young daughter whilst he worked long nights? You were agreeing before youâd even heard the hours, you canât denyâand despite how hasty of a decision it had been, you thoroughly enjoyed working under Higuruma Hiromi.
And being under Higuruma HiromiâŠthough that didnât come until a few weeks after youâd been employed.Â
The first night, youâd barely seen him. Dark hair. Dark circles.
The main thing you remember was that he looked exhaustedâand some strange part of you was actually enticed by the hard-working man. Especially when he was such a gentlemanâŠ
Fuck, that suit fit him so well.
He addressed you oh-so-respectfully; unlike some parents who were tempted to treat you like a live-in server. Hands behind his back. Jet-black eyes to himself as he gave you a two-minute tour around the house- youâd been thoroughly enjoying yourself admiring his broad shoulders in that suit, when a sudden call from the office meant your tour had to be paused.Â
Higuruma had pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. Heâd sighed.
And he was out that door before you could even confirm bedtime- which hadnât been too much of a problem, to be honest. His daughter was extremely well-behaved and didnât hesitate to let you know.Â
She also didnât hesitate to let you know that her dad was very, very single.
You let her stay up just a liiittle past her bedtime.Â
And then the second night, heâd apologized for his hastiness - telling you that a recent case had them fighting to prepare before the court deadline, and thereâd just been so many fucking tax audits to go through.
You nodded like you understood. But what really intrigued you was when heâd told you that his daughter had just loved having you over. Though a part of you was simply satisfied that you did your job well (buttered popcorn and K-pop Demon Hunters wins again!), you canât deny that it made your heartâŠflutter hearing it from the older man like this.Â
It made you realize that you had a little crush.
So of course, you made him a regular.
And the pay was so good that you were able to weed out your other clients to focus predominantly on Higuruma and his bizarre babysitting schedule (some nights he worked until 3AMâŠ)âyou guessed the overtime was paying off.Â
Though your interactions were limited mostly to the brief conversations before and after- though you never did cross your boundaries. That all came to a head when one night - about a month or two into your babysitting gig - Higuruma suddenly perked up after a late night at the office. It was 3:31AM when he quietly let himself inside the house, sighing as he finally tugged off his tie.
It was 3:32AM by the time you got up off the couch and offered him some cookies youâd made with his daughter in the morning.
3:40AM when he suddenly remembered- and suggested resuming that house tour you didnât get to finish. And though youâd been a bit hesitantâfor nothing other than the fact that you might wake his sleeping daughter up, he promised that the two of you would be quiet.
Then, finally, 3:47AM when he was telling you to be quiet in bed-
âWouldnât wanna wake her up, hm?â The prominent outline of his nose runs down the side of your throat - and it makes you shiver. Fuck, you always have thought that that was one of the most handsome parts of him.Â
A soft moan strangles in your throat as he slots his thickened tip between your foldsâfeeling it like this, your mindâs reeling with the question of how the fuck heâs going to fit like this.
Higuruma always did strike you as the type of man to be big; but this was enough to make your mouth water and your eyes damn-near bulge out of your skull. From here, you were feeling at least seven or eight inches of his erection, furiously hot, wrapped in throbbing red veins and having the most luscious precum dripping out from top. He seemed hard enough to fucking ruin you - just how you wanted it.Â
And as if reading your mind, Higuruma runs his slippery wet tip down your pussylips, and trundles in his low tone. âAre you sure you want to do it? We donât have to rush into anything if you donât want-â
âI do.â Cutting him off mid-sentence.
Although by the way that Higurumaâs stern lips were quirking up ever-so-slightlyâyouâre taking it to mean that he didnât exactly mind. He keeps one hand underneath your ass, so that you can be pushed up into his roverinâ hips, and his other one caresses your cheek softly. âHm, is that soâŠ? Then I guess what I meant to say isâŠcan you take every single inch, sugar?â
You gulp. Your eyes dart down nervously to his twitchinâ, throbbing length. âYes.â
And youâve never been more sure of anything.
Higuruma merely horses out - âThen buckle up, angel.â
Before you know it, his round, ruddied tip is probinâ inside. Sifting your gluey walls from side-to-side before spreading you up so maddeningly open.
He spots your sweet areas with a few dollops of pre- as soon as Higuruma found himself inside you, he was fighting back whimpers of pleasure. The older manâs achinâ cock doing all the talking for him as he shovels his way inâ
âSh-shit.â Your eyes sprint to the back of your head as you take him. âShit, youâre so big-â
The way youâre moving your hips around as though confused whether to buck right down or make him ease up- itâs just so cute. And he plants a reassuring hand on the side of your waist, âEasy now.â Higuruma hushes out, âEeeeeeasy, angel. You can take it for me.â
âRight thereââ You keen out as his flared tip rubs along your g-spot.
And although he knows what you meant, that doesnât stop Higuruma from throwing you a ravishing smirk. Letting his second hand run down your core- âNo, sugar. Right here.â He pushes down right where he knew your womb would be - that soft pressure making your walls clench around him wildly, until you could feel every throb of his engorged tip even in your brain. âAnd youâre gonna take it fâme, right?âÂ
Jostling you hard with every thrustâso that youâre nodding away. Almost pathetically.Â
âMhmâŠexactly what I thought.â He coos - so lovingly thrusting away between your quiverinâ legs. Higurumaâs skin slap-slap-slaps against yours at a steady pace, âJust a few more inches nowâkeep quiet, please.â
âIâm t-trying.â Gnawing down on your lower lip. âHow many more?â
âAh, just one inchâŠtwoâŠâ And after a prolonged thrust- so deep that you swear youâre feeling it in your throat, Higuruma cracks a grin. âMaybe more.â
Five more?
Five more?
And you were already on the verge of being fucked absolutely stupid? Youâre letting a groan escape youâlewd and louder than you intended- and before the realization hits you, Higuruma himself swiftly reaches over to where his work tie had been dangling off the side of the bed. Bunching it up, shoving it between those pretty lips - he couldnât have anyone waking up now, could he?
And thatâs exactly what heâs telling you: âCâmon, angelâŠâ Shoves getting deeper and longer. Rougher- as he rams his thickened inches past where you donât think anyoneâs ever gone before. And throughout it all, the older man was so steady with youââCâmon- câmon. You can do thisâfuuuuuck, you can do this. This pussyâs gonna take all of me, right?â
Nodding and nodding.
âYeah? Because youâre my goooood girl, right? Taking me so well.â He continues rasping - tone pitching higher and higher as he goes on. âMy good- fucking- girlââ
âO-oh, fuck, fuck, fuck-â
âYouâre my goooooood fucking girl, huh?â The stubs of his five oâ clock shadow rub up against your skin. The deeper he thrusts, the hotter his body seems to become on top of yours. More and more. âCan you count how many inches mâputting in you?â
Tears flow down your eyes, âY-yes- mmpf.â Somehow managing past the tie. âAh- four? Five. Six.â
Higurumaâs eyes widen.
âSevenââ Your voice seems like itâs on the verge of cracking. âEight.â
Itâs just too adorable how youâre sweetly attempting to respond to him even with the gag in. And Higuruma canât help himself as he leans in and kisses you through the tie.
Itâs hot and itâs messy.
And it ends up with him smiling against your stuffed lips, âFinally bottomed-out.â
Hazily, youâre blinking a few times. It clears your vision enough for you to jerk your head down and see that it was indeed true, Higuruma had stuffed himself inside your pussy until his thick base was kissinâ your pussylips. Just the most innocent peck.
âAnd nowâŠâ ExceptâŠfuck, except he was reeling right back again. â-for the fun part.â
Right back until that rounded tip stretched your hole out.
Right back inside-
âMakes me wanna put a baby in you- I swear. Taking me like this.âÂ
i kept trying to like understand multiple people words/thoughts in relation to a lot of the shit thatâs happening and i think i came to a conclusion
or at least I donât fully get it.
I donât get the whole argument of everything mainly because some of these things are between some people, why are outsiders and anons getting into it to do some sort of street justice, this isnât ur thing, these arenât people that you even know, why are you going into a witch hunt and for what even
like the one currently was the misunderstanding between two people and a couple others, why care so much if they donât want to speak to each other anymore this is between them, why are you trying to get them to talk about each other when their past 20 post explaining they donât want to anymore, why do you keep trying to drag them, tumblr is massive, they can coexist, they wonât interact witch each other but you keep dragging them together, they donât want to so respect their choice.
and thatâs an issue im having, and itâs the biggest, why did anons care so much, and they looked like they care more about making a huge mess of this, then complain about how people react aggressively or volatile, your making them angry and uncomfortable for nothing. They cared more about getting info about these people who btw didnt need to explain anything between them to outsiders (yet they did unfortunately) than trying to keep the peace between them, and itâs not even keep the peace ITS JUST THEY DIDNT NEED TO KEEP THROWING SPECULATIONS AT PEOPLE.
a vibe or âi thinkâ isnât enough to prove a point in anything, you need something concrete to actually prove it, and thatâs what they did for a while, They just threw in random words or you gave them an answer and it wasnât what they wanted?????
What the fuck do you mean that wasnât the answer that you wanted
itâs like the AI writing accusations, some said it feels AI, Why because it was consistent?? Do they not know what people have a writing style/type or just being consistent. i follow a blog and i remember that damn book (fuck that book really) someone in an ask said that their writing feels AI, maybe im stupid but I dont go based on a damn âfeelingâ, that is absolutely a nothing burger and it gets on my nerves.
That damn books gets on my nerves with everything, i didnât block it because i kept using it to well try to âunderstandâ i guess but what i ended up doing was torturing myself, âcause everything was dumb.
Then thereâs the second issue and itâs people are allowed to like anything, which is the interesting part of people, same way there are things that they wonât like and thatâs fine, but why are we shaming people, or why are we going after people. with this part i can understand a side in where certain people will say they like underage characters or like the idea of portraying real people or real kids draw in a very bad way (like what shadman, that boogeyman did) and most will agree thats gross,
but that isnât the same as someone drawing or writing a fanfic of a character that in a show is one year from being an adult and the author makes them an adult. it even explains itself, how do people go from seeing a tag âall characters are over age,â âall characters are adultsâ and people still look at the character as if the character is still the same underage one. Why are they like this, (WHY BELI WHYYY, WHYY LULU MAYMAY)
and then the cherry on top is how they are they going after people, your lack or reading skills should not be their problem, thats a skill issue on your part.
And while writing and reading this, none of this is new, itâs been said a million times in so many different ways and yet we still end up in the same place.
I just wish I could share my own thoughts but it will be complicated for some them to understand. If they are still with their own mindset then of course thats what you like and dont like but by rules of the smart, you dont like you can scroll (or be me, you dont like it but itâs good art or peak writing and you enjoyed it so you like it) and you go on with your day.
in other words, im upset :( that this became a whole mess for no reason and I blame a huge majority of anons for instigating this whole thing and not just letting it be between the people involved and not even waiting to listen to what the people had to say, MoistCritical said this thing and im forever stuck with it and seeing this whole thing reminded me of it, âYou donât care about the truth, you just want someone to hateâ
I was waiting for you to give me the rant you said you were marinating, and I know I took some time to reply (and damn tumblr saying I got more messages than I got was making me insane again) but HERE WE ARE
I just wish I could share my own thoughts but it will be complicated for some them to understand.
they can't read so don't worry, average jjk fan and antis would be devastated if they could read, though, because there is not one single scientific base on anything they preach, it's all religion, purist mindset, censorship and some more made up bullshit which the source is: the voices in their heads đ·
That damn books gets on my nerves with everything, i didnât block it because i kept using it to well try to âunderstandâ i guess but what i ended up doing was torturing myself, âcause everything was dumb.
every single anti ever, and the biggest example we sadly got was: tojioffline and its tojiofflinelings đ«
why are we going after people
you'll have a blast when we start to talk about satanic panic, witch hunt, purity and religious guilt, performative white knighting and all of the things these dumbfucks pretend they aren't doing
the idea of portraying real people or real kids draw in a very bad way (like what shadman, that boogeyman did) and most will agree thats gross,
I don't fuck with rpf (real person fiction) at all, I do (begrudgingly) understand that when someone write about jimin from bts they are writing about the persona/character that singer has portrayed, and etc etc. but it doesn't... sit right with me for a single reason: it's a real person that exists in real life and can be affected, as in those crazy fans that go to extreme shit to touch/harm/harass their idols, you see? this is the sole thing that makes me very very wary of rpf but never will I harass them, nor get out of my way to go talk shit or police the fuckery they are making. I'm wary of them as people in real life for the reasons above, the parasocial feeling (that only happens among people... irl, you can't be parasocial with a cartoon *stares at some anons that are really dumb*) and the way they treat another PERSON.
And Shadman was portraying real life kids, real life people that aren't public people in porn cartoons. This goes against a ton of laws and this isn't fiction, which people don't understand because they are as idiotic as they could possibly be - real life people =/= fictional characters. And I think shadman also had CSAM and some nazi terrible shit, I did see the rise and fall of that fucker, and it was a MESS. It also did help me understand how people couldn't separate one thing from another sometimes and made me so repulsed to see the ones defending him. Bro drew porn of the daughter of a senator (?) because the man was beefing with him. Real kid. From a real person. Minor. Daughter of a dude. Like, imagine this happening. It's insane.
Why are they like this,
because they are brainless dumbfucks that lack the ability to think and to separate fiction from reality, thus they are people I hope never ever get close to any kids nor... anyone irl, since the mfs can't understand that a real life artist and real life author are REAL PEOPLE, whereas Satoru Gojo is not, so it's not (I repeat, it's NOT) a problem if you make a fucking fictional piece portraying Satoru Gojo as: being abused, killed, dismembered, a minor, an elder, a fuckwhat.
because
he's not real. âš
âYou donât care about the truth, you just want someone to hateâ
yup, and anonymity, the idea of it for the cowards, is what makes them feel big and mighty but if they stood by their ideals they would be yapping on their main with their whole ass face behind it, but they can't because they know it's bullshit, so...
but hey, this shit happens every now and them, I don't know if you are aware of the 80s and 90s satanic panic or even brazil's 64 military dictatorship but if you got some time give it a go, it's a very interesting read and will get you into why I would prefer to shove a whole ass brick inside someone's mouth than let them defend censorship in front of me.
I don't respect any person preaching censorship at all, so they can bark and cry and die, I'll be doing the worst fictional shit possible until they cease the fucking noise.
AND YAY MEXICO, GIVE CAT A HUG @thereisacatinmybankaccount (of course everyone in mexico will eventually meet that's geography) and Arizona i have no idea whatchu got there, maybe that one tea, the arizona tea, very good tea.
i forgot one part and it was how some or a lot of these people dont forgive, even when the issue isnt a bout them. you make the most basic or simple mistake ONCE and they want you hanged. Literally being an anon gives them the âpowerâ to just be a horrible person and wipe their hands and pretend they didnât just write some terrible shit.
the few satanic panics that iâve heard are all just by mouth, i havent really looked since they always tell em it happened around the 90s (im 2005 and i keep forgetting to read more about the 80-90s or a lot of the past), iâll put it in a notes to look more into it. I know just a few âcause i somewhat refuse a bit to look to much into religion since im not that religious and out of anger since they forced religion onto me as a kid.
And me neither i donât fuck with rpf, i dont shame people or anything but the fact that this person is real is just a little too much for me. I havenât dived much into it but the few instances iâve tried to read it i cant seem to immerse myself or connect.
I saw shadmans collapse later but i remember the video that i watched and it was how no one seemed to care at the beginning how it was fucked up since everyone hated the dude and this was a ââgoodââ revenge, idk and i dont. are enough to defend this dude, hes still around apparently but al least heâs acknowledged by most to be a fucking weirdo
@belimah im not unc status i donât have the knowledge that you have but im trying, i started to experience most of life literally these few years since they kept me sheltered (unrestricted internet tho but all i ended up finding was just porn doujins) and actually iâll admit that when i wrote this for a second I thought that i wrote something incredibly dumb and contradictory and i got scared since it took a while to answer and i couldnât remember everything i wrote đ„
which btw while writing this i thought that a lot of people go against parts of their religion and some even experience being forced into it, i would have assumed that we can collectively agree that we are all sinners and so everyone should understand that trying to censor someone is dog shit behavior (but i guess some are trying to purify?? or do good to go to heaven i guess),
which again why is it that did we fall again here, this, this is just a way for some to feel good about themselves, to say they did something good (which to them was just harassing a person because they didnât like the same thing the author likes) which is dumb
this is so dumb, literally âim gonna go after a person because i donât like the same things they like, therefore theirs is badâ
this is just the religion wars again but instead of fighting over a god itâs preferences which makes it even 10x dumb
Anyways Mexico is great
im in Guadalajara and itâs been amazing, ive just been eating so much, especially desserts and coffee (the heat and sugar rush has been giving me a headache but iâm pushing through it since i really want to explore more)
but the greatest thing isnt just the food, ITS THE PEOPLE and the fact i can speak my mother tongue and we can understand each other, tho we have different accents but doesnât matter. I love it here.
Arizona is just were my sister is doing her interns, and where her son is and thats all I care about, i love my annoying nephew :3. Arizona is just a desert that got turned into a state, tho it does have pretty good environments to explore and normal cities, itâs mostly know because this were the Grand Canyon is.
sukuna's convinced he'll never find a mate. he's tried it all, mate pairing programs, rehabilitation. no one wants him. who needs a bond anyway? he prefers the solitude. you're his last hope. an optimistic volunteer thrown at him by that pesky support program in hopes that he'll finally find a mate. will you be the one to show him that he doesn't really wanna be lonely? or will you throw him to the curb like everyone else? well, his rough exterior and unexpected rut truly puts you to the test.
⥠ïč 8.6k words
⥠ïč this was commissioned by @lycanqueen
ê° đ âž°  ⊠đws. hybrid au :: human!reader :: smut :: hurt/comfort :: mean!sukuna :: sweet!reader :: possessiveness :: pining :: hybrid ruts :: scenting :: marking :: oral ( f.receiving ) :: face-sitting :: p in v :: rough sex :: mating press :: multiple orgasms :: emotional sex :: overstimulation :: choking :: breeding :: talks of cubs :: creampie ê±
"Maybe they were right about you. You are a lost cause."
So this rehabilitation agent had guts? Sukuna would give him that much.
The sun pierced his eyes and slitted his pupils as he stared at the man before him, unshaken. Bold, for someone with noting but a flimsy clipboard for a weapon if Sukuna let his temper get the better of him.
He never had an issue with it before. So where were his claws?
"That mean I can finally do my own damn thing now?" He gruffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he propped against his doorway. He ignored his tail that hung low.
The man furrowed his brows. Sucked in a breath. Looked like he was searching for patience in the late afternoon air. His hand with the clipboard dropped as he stood straight.
"You don't get it, do you Ryomen?"
"What's there to get? That I can't play housecat for your domesticity programs?"
"Behavioural programs."
"That've made shit progress."
"It's not as if you make it any easier."
"Your potential mates bore me."
"You scared them off. Every one of them."
The man didn't need to match Sukuna's tone to scathe him. His face never broke clinical aloofness, even with each word loaded. Baggage of the ugly truth: that Ryomen Sukuna was a lost cause.
Countless mates. Five? Six? He lost track. He pretended to forget their names but he remembered every one.
The first left quietly. Said he was too loud.
The second left loudly. Said he was too quiet.
The third claimed she was frightened. The fourth didn't even give him a reason. Fifth and sixth were some ugly variation of all of the above.
Sukuna stopped caring.
He did care, at one point. That's why he let his coworker convince him to join this stupid 'hybrid nature rehabilitation program' in the first place, right? Because maybe tigers were too bold. Too frightening. Too much.
Too much. That's what the last one said.
Well, if he was too much for anyone, maybe they weren't enough for him.
The agent sighed. Pinching the bridge of his nose and probably contemplating why he chose to work for a facility that boasted a 100% rehabilitation record. Guess Sukuna was about to ruin that too. As he did most things.
"Look," the man said. His shoulders slumped. "We do not typically give up on our patients, but surely you understand that we've tried everything in the book for you, right?"
Sukuna didn't reply.
"Behavioural therapy. Group counselling. Mate pairings and courses. You've chased away every volunteer and potential mate. Somehow even frightened off your therapist last month."
"She was weak."
"She was doing her job. You act like. . ."
Sukuna grunted. His claws threatening to lash out and tear up his own shirt. "What?" He knew the answer. Knew that sickening word that they all used for him. "An animal?"
The man didn't answer. Didn't have to. He sighed again and checked his clipboard. "This is your last shot for clearance."
"And if I don't pass?"
"You'll be escorted to a private facility."
Hybrids were monitored under lock and key by the state. Sukuna guessed he couldn't really blame them. They were different. Unpredictable.
Animals.
Sukuna regretted ever approaching the program in the first place. If he knew what he knew nowâ that he was simply built to be on his own, he would have swallowed the furball and bit his own tail. Lived out the rest of his life without the feeling of being watched.
Now, they knew he was unstable. Now, they considered him a threat. Guess his claws really were clipped.
"Thanks to your last stunt, none of the volunteers stepped up for this," the man said, flipping through his clipboard.
Sukuna huffed. "What's the point then? Just ship me off already." At least he'd get to be alone, then.
"Because miraculously, one of our assistants offered to help." The man looked up. "She's new. And your last shot." He handed over the clipboard with a small picture clipped at the top right.
That's the first time Sukuna saw you.
The second time he saw you, you smiled at him. Stupid move, really. For someone so small, so frailâ so breakable.
"It's nice to meet you," he's sure you lied as you stuck out your hand. Chirpier than a bird hybrid. Bright eyed as a squirrel. Were they sure that you were human?
"Yeah. Hi." He gruffed, not reaching for your hand. It looked too gentle for him.
You dropped your arm to your side, still smiling, but softer. Before you trotted off to lug the rest of your belongings into his home.
He helped you, of course. Tiny thing like you probably would sprain her spine if she did it all by herself. Pathetic.
This was his last hope? They might as well cage him and ship him off already.
Within a week, he was sharing his space again. The few days of blissful solitude had come to an end. Now, there was a canvas in his living room. Pink body wash and products littered across his bathroom counter. Books from authors he couldn't even pronounce occupying his empty shelves.
You were sweeter than the three spoons of sugar you dumped in your strawberry tea every morning. Softer than the dinner rolls you insisted on making every Wednesday and Friday. Shy. Gentle.
Too gentle for someone like him.
In the beginning, Sukuna had watched you. Like a tiger stalked its prey. Scouring for the first sign of discomfort. A hint of fear. Even those who started off strong couldn't keep up the act for long. Not with him.
Which was what made it so odd.
You were timid, sure. But not afraid of him. Guess he'd give it some time.
Because that's simply his fate now, right? Watch a new volunteer skip into his lair and run off with their tail between their legs once he got too much. No one stayed. Not like they did with everyone else.
Others made hybrid bonding look easy. They'd join circles and find mates in the same week. Same night, even. Claiming it all as 'the right timing'. The right person.
Sukuna was a wrong person. Therefore, no right person would fit. Like an unwanted puzzle piece.
Not that he cared. He didn't need to fit in with anyone. If he was too much for any twisted jigsaw of companionship then he'd simply be the missing piece. A corner piece no one looked for. The one that made no difference to the puzzle. The one that no one needed.
He preferred being alone, anyway.
If this last ditch effort blew up in smoke, he guessed he'd have his wish. Whatever facility they'd stuff him intoâ at least he would be alone. It was better that way.
By himself, he didn't have to soften his tongue. By himself, he didn't have to pretend that he did not have stripes, claws and canines. Didn't have to soften himself for someone who wouldn't soften for him.
Didn't have to watch anyone leave when he became too much.
You didn't leave.
A week went by. Then two. Three, before he knew it. You rooted yourself into his floorboards like a flourishing flower and offered him the same sunny smile every morning.
"How'd you sleep, Sukuna?" You'd ask, as if you cared.
"Fine." He'd grumble from the coffee machine. The bitter stain on his tongue refused to ever let him return the question.
Why should he bother with someone who was going to sign him off anyway? Might as well show her what she was getting herself into. His poor behaviour and slacking social skills, as his therapist put it.
You never flinched. Humans sure were resilient.
But he was hybrid. And everyone knew that tigers were ruthless.
He wouldn't shroud his nature to make himself more palatable for you. For anyone, ever again.
It's odd. You actually tried.
You adapted your body clock to him. Sukuna woke up drearily early. To catch the dawn on his ears during his morning run. He supposed you started waking up shortly after him. Giving you enough time to ready breakfast for him when he stepped back through the door.
Eggs. Bacon. Any raw protein you could think of. You were unfortunately, a good cook.
"This isn't necessary," he said from the counter, but still wolfed down your perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs.
"Waking up early has its perks." You mused, sipping your tea. Probably strawberry. Or rose. He hated that he now knew your favourites.
You made his bed whenever he wasn't looking. He scolded you for it, the first few times. You insisted it was fine. That you liked cleaning up.
You tried to watch movies with him. Plopped beside him on the sofa and struck him your signature smile.
"Wanna watch something?" You asked, soft. Already dangling the remote. Sukuna couldn't help but compare the size of your hand to his.
He scoffed. "What? Some romcom?"
"Or horror." You bashed.
His instincts told him that a gentle soul like you wouldn't last ten seconds with a horror movie. Still, he indulged you. The last thing he wanted was to endure some stupid hybrid hallmark film.
A slasher flick. He didn't pay attention to the name. All he knew was that you quivered halfway through it and that stirred an urge in his gut.
Urge to what? Now that, he once again had no answers to.
It was warm. Low. The same way he felt when kids dropped their ice creams and mothers tripped in grocery stores. He couldn't name it. But he did drape his arm over the back of the couch. Not grazing your shoulders but, there.
You'd probably have nightmares tonight. Silly girl. Now he would be obligated to return the favour.
Because you did, a few nights ago. When he tossed and turned. Creased his sheets and slashed his blankets. Sukuna wasn't one to dreamâ but he did have nightmares.
About the darkness. About the cold. About a void that for some, unfathomable reason, unsettled him.
"It's okay, shh." Your voice reached out to him through the shadow. Light against the darkness.
"It's okay. I'm here. Wake up, please."
You were luck he hadn't broken your arm.
His grip was too tight. Claws too wretched. Not lucid enough to realise that he snatched your wrist when he had woken up.
"Get out." His voice rumbled. Eyes bloodshot and pupils tight. Sweat burned his forehead.
It must have not sounded like a threat, or maybe it was your stupid human resilience. You leaned over him. One knee on his bed and your hand ghosting his shoulder.
"You're freezing," you whispered.
He jerked from you. Rolled over onto his side and refused to allow himself to be vulnerable under your gentle gaze.
"I'm fine." He said.
You insisted. Are you sure? â Can I get you anything? â All the things that people said to catch you off guard and then left anyway.
"I said I'm fine."
His voice boomed, final. It was the first time he'd seen you flinch. He did not bother calling out for you as you shuffled out of the room. Assumed your bags would be packed by the morning. Your pink body wash nowhere to be seen on his counters and your books vanished from his shelves.
You didn't leave. Here you were, a few days later, with shaky knees and a horror movie. But insisting that you were enjoying it for his sake.
You never turned tail. Never backed down. Maybe it was more than human resilience. Maybe it was stubbornness.
That's the only thing that made sense to him. Why else hadn't you disappeared regardless of how much steam he'd blown at you? Especially when he was too much.
"Let's get one thing straight."
You had said something stupid one day in the kitchen. Something about being there for him. Some empty promise he had heard mixed and minced several different ways until it lost all meaning.
As if his mood was not sour enough.
Your back pressed into the fridge. His strong forearm shoved above your head. Sukuna's hulking body shadowed yours. Perhaps this was it. Where you finally became apart of that void that haunted his dreams.
"You and I. Are not. Compatible." His ears pinned back to his head. Tail coiled tight. Like his jaw and teeth that clenched.
Still, you held his stare. Even when it burned.
"Not a thing. Not. Possible." He spat. "So stop acting like you aren't just gonna sign me off so I can be caged up."
"I'm notâ"
"I want you to."
He cut you off. Sharp as his heave as he craned closer. Close enough to smell your cherry shampooâ but not a hint of fear.
What was wrong with you?
"I want you to sign me off. So that we can stop pretending like any of this is gonna work and that I'm anything but better off alone."
The fridge rattled as he shoved himself off. He expected your knees to shake. Expected you to clamber out of the kitchen and stuff whatever you could into a suitcase for the night.
Instead, you watched him storm off. With those same, achingly gentle eyes.
Why were you so gentle?
Why did you stay?
Why did he find himself being gentler, too?
Of course, Sukuna didn't want to snap at you. You were simply the closest thing. The softest thing. His hands weren't built to cherish the tender.
Yet, tender were his hands, as they cooked for you. If you handled breakfast, it was only fair that dinner was his responsibility. Even if all he exchanged with you were grunts and gruffs, as long as you went to bed full, he was content.
Content? Odd. That wasn't a word in his vocabulary anymore.
His voice dangered tender's territory on nights you'd be out. Work, friends, whatever he never bothered listening to but for some reason found himself worrying over when the street lights switched on.
"Do you need a lift back?" He asked into the phone. Taking note to look uninterested, even if you couldn't see him.
"I should be fine, Sukuna." You chirped.
"You sure? It's almost midnight."
"I'm sure! What's the worst that could happen?"
To a sweet thing like you? A lot. More than he'd like to imagine.
Morals, he told himself. He pulled up in the middle of the morning to pick you up because of his pesky morals.
"Sorry you had to come all this way," you said as you shut the passenger door.
Sukuna considered your dress. Hated himself for it.
"What?" His tongue clicked. "Were you expecting to walk all the way back?"
"What's the worst that couldâ"
"A lot."
It wasn't like the other times. His voice raised, but didn't roar. His brows narrowed, but didn't glare.
The car ride was silent.
Your smile was sickening.
Cute.
He watched you closer. Not as a tiger stalked prey. Not anymore. He couldn't name this.
He refused to call it gentle.
Even when he carefully observed the way you fixed your hair every morning. How he noted which of your curves that the sun bounced odd of. The soft plush of your body and how your thighs moulded into the couch cushions, or rounded perfectly in your shorts.
Never had he been one to appreciate artâ though he stood in front of your canvases and stared at your paint patterns. Swirls of green and blotches of warmth. Illustrations of nature: jungles and wild flowers.
It called to something within him. He assumed his hybrid traits. A tiger yearned for jungle, that was his home.
Home.
Sukuna didn't have a home.
He had a house. He had you. Had pink body wash on his counters and books he'd learnt the names of on his shelves. Had a warm meal every morning and a warmer bed you still insisted on making.
He had movie nights. A running partner. Someone who finally rooted her heels to the floorboards and blossomed in his walls. Stubborn as she was shy.
But not a home.
It was only a matter of time. Until he said something that finally was the thing. Until he'd wake up to your paintings missing, and your shampoo gone. He'd come home to no protein, but a sheet of paper:
I've signed you off. Good riddance.
You told him that you wouldn't, after he insisted it that night in the kitchen.
You padded to doorway of his room, picking at your sleeves with a petal-soft voice.
"All we have to do is clear you for rehabilitation," you said.
Not once did your eyes meet his.
"Then what? I can finally be alone?" He asked, incredulous.
You nodded.
It's what he wanted. What he claimed to want. So why was your agreement a sharp pang between his ribs?
That was then. He assumed your plans hadn't changed much. A silent agreement that if he behaved, you'd leave him be by the end of it all.
That's why he was gentler, he told himself.
Just trying to ensure his goals, he insisted.
For now, he would take care of you as you did him. Whether conscious or not. If it meant that when it was through, he'd get what was best for him.
Solitude.
But if solitude was what he wanted, why did he hate seeing you in others' company?
It was late. Emergency work call. He missed his afternoon cat nap and only scuffed down half of his breakfast.
The sun peeped at him from its sprawl across the horizon. Glaring into the back of his head as he stalked home. Burning him hotter. Hot.
He felt so. Fucking. Hot.
It wasn't even summer yet. Spring had only perked its preppy head. The blossoms bloomed. Their nectar tickled his nose. Couples gifted their flowers.
Sukuna hated spring.
He hoped you hadn't cooked dinner yet. That was his job. His responsibility.
But no, you were outside. Prattling to a neighbour.
All smiles and soft. Cupping your hands in front of you as you listened to the man's stories. The irritable snow leopard that lived next door. With his baby blue eyes and boyish grin.
What were you even doing outside in the first place? Didn't he tell you it was dangerous once the street lights started switching on?
Sukuna did what he did best. He watched. Looming by the telephone wire. Feeling the sun stab into his head. His spine. Feeling the heat gurgle from his gut. Splutter up his lungs. Against the back of his teeth.
That spotted fucker touched your arm.
Sukuna scathed.
Blurred colours. A muffled yelp. His claw caught on your woolly sweater as he snatched your arm.
"Sukunaâ!"
Your gasp drowned in the rumble of his growl. Grated from the back of his throat. The leopard backed off. Your muscles tensed under his calloused fingers.
"Inside. Now."
He didn't wait for you to agree nor disagree. Dragging you inside and rattling the walls as the door clattered! shut.
"Suâ" he lodged your voice in your throat once more. Shoved your back into the nearest thingâ the same splintering door.
Was it hotter inside? Or was that the anger?
A sweat drop sweltered between his brows.
"What the hell were you doing?" As if he had any right to ask. You weren't his mate.
Mate? Of course you weren't his mate.
Then why did his teeth crave to sink into your flesh? Mark you?
His stare hazed. Blinking rapidly. Heaving. The heat blistered into his nerves. Clenched his muscles. Suffocating. It was suffocating.
"Why were you. With him. Whyâ" he zeroed in. Mistake. Big mistake.
Your scent.
You weren't his mate. Why the hell did you smell like it, then?
Did you always smell this good?
Your gaped at him. Hands stiff on your sides and pressed flat into the wood. Your neck craned to account for the height difference. Were you watching him this time? Was he too much?
His eyes squeezed shut.
"Sukuna," you spoke. His name didn't deserve that gentleness. It ached him deeper today.
"I think you're. . ."
Snapping open his stare, he sucked in breath. Considered your words. The phrase your lips wrapped around.
Rut.
Shit.
He shoved himself away from the door. Away from you. The fire crawled up his throat. Thunked his heart. Thrummed a deep, dark chord in his gut.
The sweat slipping down his spine in the middle of spring confirmed it. He was in rut. With a poor, persistent, pretty human in claw's reach.
"Heyâ hey it's okay," you attempted, stepping forward where he stumbled back.
"Don't."
He hissed.
You preserved.
Stubborn. Stubborn, sweet thing.
"Let me help." You offered.
"No."
He tried. Tried to stumble off. Lock himself in his room. He could hump the mattress for all he cared but he wasn't so much as touchingâ
You took him by the wrist. Might as well have taken his soul while you were at it.
Splintered his restraint.
The door rattled again. Creaked awfully with the weight of him. On you. The thickness of the air. The heat. Your wrists fit well in his big hands. Looked like they belonged there.
You looked like you belonged here. Pinned under him.
His chest heaved. Voice jagged, throaty.
"You don't know what you're getting into." He said.
You gulped. He paid too much attention to your throat. "I did when I signed up for this."
"Do you even know what a rut is?"
"I know you can't be alone right now."
Sukuna's breath hitched.
You relaxed your hips. Let them mould into his. Their plush softness drove him wild.
Lashes hung over deep maroons. The quiet thrummed with your heart beats. His, thundering and wanting. Yours, tender yet eager.
He craned closer. Tuffs of his pink hair tickled your forehead.
"I can do awful things to you." He whispered.
Still no flinches. You never did.
Your eyes batted at him.
"Is that so bad?"
"Yes."
"Show me."
Even the kiss, burned.
Your lips really were petal-soft. Softer than he had imagined. He hated himself for imagining this in the first place.
The knot in his gut wound tight. Urging him to flush you further into the wood. Flush further into you. Patience slipped into the simmer between your mouths. Sukuna kissed you with violence. Nothing contained. Nothing hidden.
He told you that he wouldn't placate himself for you.
Abandoning your wrists, his grip sought your plush. Squeezing your thighs between his fingers gaps. Lifting you into his arms so that your heels pressed into his back. So that he could consume you. Tongues tangling and teeth tackling.
Your hands smacked at his shoulder. Breaths huffed through your nose. A desperate sound that plunged him deeper into heat.
He let you breathe. Barely.
"I can be good for you." Was what you used the privilege to gasp.
His chest rumbled. "Yeah?"
The slope of your throat was so pretty when you gulped.
Sukuna slipped a hand to your cheek. Rough. He couldn't be gentle. Not with you. Not now.
"Gonna be good for me, pretty girl?"
Eyes blown out. Jaw tight. If you said anything other than your whined little yes as his hips ground into yours, he might have lost his mind entirely.
His mouth attacked yours again. Sucking on whatever was left of your lychee lipgloss. Surely bruising your lips in the process. He didn't care. Let him mark you. Everywhere. So that stupid snow leopards didn't get the wrong idea. So that everyone knew what you were.
His.
The home blurred into vertigo colours. The floors creaked under the weight of his footsteps. Sukuna hoisted you with him. Haphazardly avoiding furniture in the stagger to his bedroom. Hands palming at whatever part of your flesh he could reach.
He almost stumbled in the hallway. Caught you against the doorway, one of your hands gripped at it while the other clutched the back of his neck. Fisted his hair between your fingers.
"Sukuna, careful." You whined.
He didn't listen. Too busy humping on your thighs that squished perfectly between his hard body and the cold door. Nurturing his bulge. Tucking its hot curve into the smooth crux of your skin.
"Said you'd be good for me." His growl rumbled on your pulse. Teeth mapping out his new territory: your velvet flesh. "So shut up and take it. Like a good girl, yeah?"
The door swung open. You must have palmed the handle. Feet fumbled in a clumsy waltz. Hands clinging for dear life. He caught you. Kept you pressed against his blazing body as he mouthed down your throat. Latched onto a tender spot. Marked you.
Sukuna handled his ruts the way he handled everything else: alone. His hand, a pillow, and a grotesque amount of tissue boxes. When last had he felt the soft touch of a partner? Held their warmth beneath him while his mind drove him wild with fire?
He was always too much. Too much to handle. Too aggressive. Too big.
But you.
You seemed to want everything.
In the way your nails curled on his shirt. In the pitiful way your neck arched to give him more access. Offering yourself up to him. A pretty deer who craved a tiger's claws in her. His maw latched to your throat.
"You're so eager," he groaned.
You whimpered, "I'm yours."
Fuck.
The mattress sunk. Creaking in retort to the callousness of his shove. Your body moulded into his sheets. Into him, as he staggered over you. Knees digging into the bed. Teeth clamped on the base of your throat.
You jerked. A gasped cry vibrating against his teeth. Palms knocking into his shoulders. To push him off?
Noâ to grip. Cling. To him. To your mate.
After all, you were his now, weren't you?
Bites bloomed across your neck. Over your collarbone. Down your shoulders. Your clothes threading like ribbons under Sukuna's claws. The sound of fabric tearing accentuated the rough pants and pitched whines in the humid air.
He wanted to speak. Wanted to tell you what a good girl you were being for him. Wanted to grunt into your skin about how perfect you were. Tell you that you were everything he'd been waiting for.
The words lodged in his throat. Sticky on the back of his tongue that could only muster out wet pants and deep growls as he feasted on your flesh.
Every inch of your skin revealed to him was another blessing. Your curves. The dips. The soft slopes of your body. Salivated him all the more.
Your bra never stood a chance. Clawed away. Probably ruined at the wire. He didn't care. He'd buy you a new one. Buy you whatever you wanted if you were gonna carry his cubs.
Cubs.
The word slipped into his mind with ease, and ruined it.
Pupils blown out. Lungs clenching. He made the mistake of eyeing your tummy.
Perfect, round, soft. You'd be the perfect mate. The perfect mother for his young.
The thought spurred his hands rougher. Tearing away offensive fabrics until you were laid completely bare before him. With big, doe eyes batting up at him. So pretty. So his.
From the corner of his eye he spotted your hands slipping. To cover up. Cover what was his. Your wrists were snatched in his hard grip.
"Don't," he warned. Lips assaulting yours. Stealing your breath and tonguing on your whimpers.
"Don't hide what's mine."
Your tits were softer under his tastebuds. Delicate to the harsh swirls of his tongue. So small when compared to his mouth that sought to consume, to claim.
Sweet sounds sighed from your kiss-bitten lips. Your spine curved so that you pressed back into him. Squishing your plush breasts into his face. His groan rumbled into the flesh.
So tender it was maddening. So perfect it was addicting.
Kisses, sucks, bites. He littered your tits in more claims. Feasting on your silk flesh. Fantasising about the image of them larger. Fat and swollen with milkâ just as you were round with his cubs.
His cock strained thick in his pants. Flushed hot on your inner thigh. He ground into your warmth. Rutting wildly. Like the animal he always was.
Your hands delving into his hair almost broke him. Almost. He withdrew from your chest. Eyes glowing through the dark as he found your face.
"Taste so good. So sweet." A hand roughed down your side. Cupped your thigh and strung it round his waist.
"Up."
Raw strength scooped you into his palms. Flesh spilling between the gaps of his fingers as he squeezed for good measure.
Your little squeaks were so cute.
Teeth dragged on your flesh. Callous over bites sunk into your gentle flesh. He lapped on the indents of his own canines as he wrest you over him. Shoved your thighs higher. Urging you. Demanding.
"Face. Now. Fucking sit on my face."
Senseless. Each word was a growl. It's a miracle you understood him at all. Maybe you always would. That's how mates were, right?
The cotton of your panties dragged on his collarbone. Frantic eyes darted to your face as your hips locked. Unmoving.
Stubborn little human.
"What?" He husked. Scuffling to shove you over his awaiting face. "I said sit."
Your lips pressed together. Hands scrambling for the headboard. "Wait are youâ are you sure? I'mâ"
"âdriving me mad." He hissed through clenched teeth. The throbbing in his groin pulsed the sickening heat hotter. Seared into the back of his skull. To his hands that groped your ass. To his eyes that narrowed.
"Said I wanna taste you. So get. On."
Was that too much?
Was he too much for you?
No, course not. You wanted to be his good girl. He saw it in your doe eyes batting at him. In the quiver of your lip and the tremors of your thighs. You shuffled over him. Pressing the cusp of your panties against his chin.
"Like this?" You meeked.
"Like this."
Sukuna tugged you over him. Knocking your thighs. You stumbled. Caught yourself with shaky fingers in his hair and an adorable yelp.
The musked cotton scrunched into his nose, his mouth, the rest of his hard face. Stuffing his nostrils with the sweet, intoxicating aroma. His eyes threatened to roll back.
A muffled curse rumbled into your heat. First came his tongue. Abrasive like everything else about him. Lapping on your folds. Drenching the fabric. Trying to suck in your taste through it.
Then came his teeth. Impatient. Tearing into your panties. His head wrest, violent. Claws ripping away the cloth in a feral affair.
Your sweet heat was his reward. Slicking up his face with your clit pressed into his nose.
"Fuck," his groan thrummed. Straight into your velvet. Leaking your pussy into his agitated mouth. "Knew you'd taste s'fucking sweet."
Hands slipped up your thighs. Cupped your ass. Sukuna sought to press kisses to your quivering slitâ but you dangled above him. Not pressed, not sat. Hovered.
"Said. Fucking sit."
He hauled you into him. Cramped your thighs into his head. Smothered your pussy into his face. Even with his ears muffled by your plush, he heard your stunned gasp.
The weight was perfect on his head. Your hands were perfect in his hair. Pussy pretty, pulsing, perfect, on his tongue that stroked over your slit. Lathered you in saliva. All the way to your clit.
He darted the muscle. Circled on your bud. Trying to commit to a rhythm. A pattern. It scathed into the heat of his rut. The heat to take, to claim. To make you his. Finally.
Even if you hated him after this.
Even if you signed him off and he finally got what he wanted. Solitude.
Right now, all he wanted was your pussy.
Filthy squirts and sloshes squelched through the room. Brimming the hazed air together with your whines. Moans. Gasps of his name.
He always hated how gently you said it. Like it meant something. Like it ever could mean something. Hearing it broken sounded better. Shaky and whimpered as he fucked you on his tongue.
"S-Sukâ kuna, ah."
Sweet. So sweet. Sweeter than he ever deserved. But Sukuna was a greedy man. So he gripped on your thighs, bit his nails into your flesh, and feasted to his heart's content.
"There ya go. C'mon, pretty girl, ride my face."
Spank! went his hand. Clamouring your ass and fisting the jiggles. Pulling you down, harder, closerâ till he was suffocating. Suckling on your clit. Guiding your hips into a sinful sway.
Your hips fell into rhythm. Atta girl. Always so sweet for him. Always so obedient. Yeah, if you stayed, you'd make the perfect mate.
He hoped you stayed.
He could make you stay.
Keep you in his bed. Make a den for you. Hold you down and fuck you into his sheets day-in-and-day-out. Fill you up until your tummy grew even rounder. Softer. Until you were swollen. Until you were his.
No. Fuck. That's the rut talking.
The rut talking.
It's the rut that had him palming your ass and squeezing you into his face. The rut that had his mouth kissing, sucking, licking and laving through your creamy mess. The rut that had him fucking you on his tongue and bucking his hip into the air just as yours ground down into his face. Smearing mess all over him.
Yeah. That's the rut. But fuck, if he wasn't drunk on your pathetic moans. Your messy pussy.
Your clit spasmed under the flat of his harassing tongue. Your thighs clamped around his head. Fingers dug into his skull. Even your pain was sweet.
"Shitâ kuna." Your voice croaked. Called to him as a mate should. "I'm gonna, fuck. Think 'm gonna. . . gonnaâ"
His eyes fluttered. Throat rasped.
"Gonna cum? Yeah? Gonna cum, hah, all over my face?"
From between the small gap of your thigh, Sukuna witnessed your face. Eyes rolled back. Jaw slack. Tits bouncing as you rode his face as if he was yours.
He was.
In this moment. In these blurred lines of his rut. Where he pictured you as his mate. Entertained the thought of wanting. Of being wanted. Of not being alone.
He was yours. Even if for a moment.
You sung his name through the haze. Tender even when he ripped you apart at the seams. Delicate even in his claws that threatened to tear into you. Mark you with scars and blood.
Your hips clumsily rocked. Onceâtwiceâlocked up in feverish tremors. Your hands bunching his hair. Clinging. Your body hunched over his. Shattering.
Sukuna rode you through an orgasm with his lips latched around your clit. Sucking harsh on its throbs. Teething on its twitches.
You splattered his face in warmth. Sweet, sickening warmth that doused him deeper into his rut's clutches.
"That's it. There you go. Fuck. Prettiest fucking pussy," he slurred into your wetness. Tongue delving between your puffy folds. Lapping up your cum. Greedy.
You toppled over him. Breaths ragged. One hand clutched in his hair and the other on the headboard.
"Wannaâ wanna help. Wanna." To his surprise you pulled on his hair. Interrupting his creamy kisses on your slit.
Stares met. His hot. Yours warm. Wanting.
"Wanna make you feel good too."
How pretty you were when you quivered. Lips glossed by drool and lashes soaked with tears. It ached a deep chamber in his heart.
"Wanna be good for me?" He panted.
Your nod was doeish. As everything else about you was. His delicate girl. So fragile in his hands.
He couldn't wait to break you.
The bed creaked again. You squeaked as he hauled you down into the wrinkled sheets. On your back with his hulking weight pressing down on you. His mouth fixed to yours. Magnetic. Addicted. Letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
"That mean you gonna let me breed you too, baby?" Catching your lip between his teeth, he grunted. Pressing the swell of his cock between your legs. Staining his crotch in your slick. "Gonna let me breed this sweet pussy?"
Your response was sweet, shy, but oh so eager. A tepid nod, as your fingers slipped to his shoulders. So small. Smaller than him in every way. He took the moment to appreciate it.
You, spread and waiting for him. Your pussy, swollen and twitching. His bulge pressed on your glistening folds dwarfed you entirely.
Oh, how you'd squirm on his cock.
At last he shrugged his shirt off. Shivered when your touch feathered over his chest. He made the mistake of watching your eyes. How they mapped out scars that your fingers traced.
You didn't have to say anything. Your gaze spelt affection he wasn't ready to receive.
"Don't stare at me like that." He gruffed, kicking off his pants.
"Why not?" You asked.
"Makes me think you want me."
"I do want you, kuna."
Damn you.
Damn you and your tenderness. Damn you and that sweet nickname your sugar lips latched onto. Damn you and the way you made his cock throb hard in the strained fabric of his boxers.
He palmed your throat. Focused on your pulse. The control he held over you in the moment.
"Shut up." His hiss muffled with a kiss. Hot and open-mouthed on yours. As if he could suck the words from your tongue and swallow them into his gut that knew better.
Knew that he was better off alone. That this was only for the sake of his rut.
Bulging and angry, his tip nudged between your thighs. Soaking up your arousal. The slippery sensation of your pussy sent shivers down his spine. So wet. For him. Only him.
He let you pull away. Watching as your gaze lowered to his thick cock sandwiched between your folds. Sliding against your slit and dragging on your clit. Your wide eyes eased a chuckle from him.
"What?" He drawled. "Too big?"
"Well. . . yes."
"And every inch's gonna fucking breed you."
He pinned you back into the mattress. Flat on your back with your knees scooped into his big hands. Dwarfed you there too. He pressed them back into you so that they kissed your tits. Folding you in half and completely exposing you entirely to his hungry eyes.
Salivating. He was salivating. Your eyes were too kind for how lewd your pussy spread out for him. Leaking a string of mess. Calling for him. Wanting him.
"Keep your eyes on me, you got that?" Maroon burned into yours. Searching for hesitance. For fear. For something that could cut into this feverish rut and remind him that he didn't deserve you. But no.
You obeyed him.
You wanted him.
His cockhead slotted against your slit. Dipping in to feel the silky sin of your pussy. A deep groan rumbled from the depths of his chest. His brows furrowed. Fuck. When last had he had this?
Blunt nails dug into the backs of your thighs as he sunk in. One inch. Two inch. Three inch. Fourâ popping through the first tight ring of resistance. Eyes devouring yours the entire time.
He watched your face. How it scrunched up and your mouth parted. How tears clouded your eyes as he pushed past the halfway point.
He stopped.
"You good?" He huffed. Barely gentle.
Very. Gentle.
"Yeah it'sâ just. . . just a lot." You croaked.
"Too much?"
His face didn't falter, but his heart sure did. His grip loosening on your limbs. Ready to let you go. Free you from him.
But you shook your head. Teary eyed. Twitching smile.
"Not enough."
Hips possessed. Mind a mess. He slammed forward at those two, pretty little words. Till his tip smooched your cervix and his balls squished into your folds. Bottomed out. Filling you to the brim.
The sound you made was sin itself. A blessing. Heaven, hell, and everything in between.
"Oh fuck." You cried, head tossed back. Unable to see him gasping out the same exclaim.
Your syrupy cunt hugged around him. Tight, snug. Nursing on an underside vein and milking him around the tip. Every pulse was your heartbeat, and it devastated him.
Cussing, he pushed down onto you. His heart tugging itself towards yours. To press into your skin as his hips started rutting. Slow, eager.
"Fuck. Look at you take this cock. Like you were born for it," his words husked above you.
Your lashes fluttered. Brows knitting at the centre. He watched your tears threaten to slip as he humped on the sensitive ring that was your cervix.
His tongue clicked. Swapping out a hand on your thigh, he snatched you beneath the jaw instead. Wrenching your face to his hot one.
"Didn't I say keep your eyes on me?"
"M sorry."
"Don't apologise, just take it."
He withdrew. Halfway at firstâ then shoved back in. The second time was further. And further. Until his thrusts pulled to the tip and plunged back to your womb. Languid, but hard. Sure to make you feel every inch of him pressing into your pussy nerves.
You soaked up his thighs. Splashing his balls and leaking a puddle into the sheets already. The scent was intoxicating. Flared his nostrils and dizzied his head.
The mattress shook beneath the power of his thrusts. Your body bounced with it. He made sure to coil his tail tight around your waist. Held you down like a predator did prey as he fucked you open on his cock.
Pleasure built a knot in his gut. Hot, heavy. Urging his hips to snap harder and chase bruises on your jiggling ass.
Every sound was sin. Sweet. Cries, moans, a whimper than surged into a whine of his name when he removed his other hand from your thigh to instead hold them back with a steeled forearm. So that his palm could press on the bulge swelling up the base of your tummy.
"Fuuckkk," he growled. Ears pinned back to his hair. Jaw hung and canines glinting. "Look at that. See that, pretty girl? What's here?"
You hiccuped, "yourâ ah. Your cock!"
"Yeah? What's it doing?"
"It'sâ"
You couldn't answer. Slurred by moans and the delicious drive of his dick stretching you out. He watched your eyes go static.
Spank! his palm landed hot on your clit. Bulging your eyes and jerking your hips up into his frantic thrusts. He laid another. Two. Threeâ encouraging your pitiful whimpers.
"Asked you a fucking question. What's it doing?"
"It'sâ hah. B. . . Breeedâ"
"Breeding you? Yeah?"
"Uhuh! Breeding. Breeding me s-so . . . s'goood."
Drool bubbled on your lips. Your hands that had tried to scramble on his shoulders and dig your mark into his flesh now fell flat on the pillow. Beside your head. Limp like the rest of your body that surrendered itself to him.
Heat surged down his spine as you clamped around him. Sucking the air from his scathing lungs. Staining his base in a thick, filthy ring of cream.
His hips rammed all the more faster. Harder. Imprinting you into his bed. Your slick. Your sweat. Your scent.
One of your weak hands slipped down. Meeking over to his larger one fixed on your stomach. Wrapping around two of his massive fingers. Or at least trying to.
It strung a deep chord in him. Thin and vulnerable. One he has thought he cut out long ago.
His half slipped over yours. Fingers laced. Pressing you against the bulge he plunged into your tummy. Holding your hand. Holding it tight.
"Sweet pussy's milking me," his grunt fanned your pulse as he swooped down. Mouthing on your neck. Searching for your pulse to feel it race beneath his lips. "Fuck. Wants my cum so bad. Wants my cubs."
"Please!" You slurred.
He swore he could do this for life.
Shoving all the way, Sukuna paused on your cervix. Sweat dripping from his hair. Cock drumming heavy. He clamped you down through your protesting whines.
"Yeah, yeah, shut it." It didn't sound harsh. Especially not with his firm squeeze on your hand.
Slipping out just enough, he watched your juices spray all over him. Mesmerising him. He worked on autopilot. Bundling you into his arms and manhandling you into a different position.
Tossing you to your side, Sukuna slotted behind you. Hips spooning your ass. One strong arm hooked around your neck, choking you on his bicep. While the other strung around your thigh. Wrenching you open for him and his massive cock, that bullied back into your cunt. Squelching your cum and sick in messy streams.
Your angelic cries resonated into his bicep. Making him squeeze it harder against your throat. Headlocking you into his greedy mouth that sucked hickies across your neck.
The angle was deeper. Filthier. Letting him feel so much more of you.
How much smaller you were than him. How you squeezed him just right. How perfect you were in his arms.
Like you belonged.
Shit. Don't go there.
Sukuna tried to drown it out. The returning thought of you. A permanent fixture in his life. Your pink body wash on his counter, that was now his. Your books on his shelves that he could read to you. You, in his living room, painting.
Painting the jungle. Painting home. Being his home.
His cock pulsed hard at the base and sweltered at the tip. The knot in his stomach wound tight. But that thoughtâ that thought gutted him.
That you were here. That you had been here. Warm, and sweet, and soft and for the last few weeks. His.
You could be his.
"No," he wanted it to sound like a grunt. But he whimpered. Panting, heaving, mind dizzy and thrusts franticâ
Sukuna was whimpering.
Your face was pressed into his bicep. Head limp and hand still trying to hold his that clutched your thigh. Still calling his name so sweetly.
"N-No?" You breathed.
Still attuned to him even when he was fucking your brains out.
"Don't want you to leave."
Oh.
Oh.
He hadn't realised that it slipped from his lips. Hadn't realised that through his brutal thrustsâ he was breaking. Lost in the burning bliss, the heat, and the warmth of what could be.
Sukuna lost his fucking mind.
"Don't wannaâ fuck. Don't wanna be alone." His face fell into your neck. Arms squeezing your body into his. Trying to melt your skin into his. Tuck himself into your warm flesh and the selfish wish you gave him.
Hazed, and hot, and so heavenly yours.
Slick hair pressed into your cheek. His body collapsed onto yours. Pounding his cock up into your creamy cunt. Chasing his blazing nerves as his mouth rambled.
"Don't want you to leave. Don't. Shit. Don't leave me, please, please don't fucking leave me."
His thrusts lost rhythm. As frantic as his rushed whispers. Plunging into your cervix. Bruising your thighs. Clutching you closer. As close as he could muster. As close as it would take to keep you here forever.
"Say you won'tâ say you," he slurred. Eyes squeezed shut. Words melting into a clumsy splutter of curses. "Say. Say you won't. Sayâ"
"Won't. Won't. 'kuna I won'tâ hngahh. Promise!"
That single word. So raw. So true. Choked in a gasp as you tried to nudge your face closer to him.
It shattered whatever pride he had left.
"You promise?"
He croaked. Dangerously hopeful.
You nodded. Cried.
"Promise. I promise S'kuna. Breed meâ please."
He should have known you'd be trouble from the moment you first smiled at him.
Heat trapped him. Seeped into every nerve and spasming muscle. Ears drooped. Tail clinging around your waist, as his arms did every inch of you.
He held your hand.
The ache in his hips nulled to the sound of your sweet voice. Tucking promises away in his heart and sealing them with attempted kisses, even when he was choking you.
He felt your orgasm shake through you. Your body locking up as you babbled his name into the humidity. And with that Sukuna finallyâ finally let go.
Ramming his cock up one, final time. He stilled. Deep and thrumming within you. Heat bursting from his gut and washing over him in a devastating wave of blissful carnage.
Loud and wrecked, his moan vibrated into your back. Hips rocking in small stutters as spluttering, white ropes creamed your cervix. Pouring his thick cum into every inch of your twitching cunt. Brimming you with him and his promise.
"Fucking. . . fuck. . . hah. Take it. Take all this cum in your pretty pussy." Slurs dragged up your throat, to your ear as you face limped into his arm. His voice husked, a vow.
"Just feel me breeding you full. Filling you with my cubs."
You whined, meekly rocking back into him. But he snatched your hips and pressed it down into the mattress with a soft hush.
The throbbing at his base thrummed into swelling. His knot bloomed until it lodged stiff in your cunt. Pulsing with your pathetic little twitches.
He watched your eyes widen and brows furrow. Your body locked up and a whimper strained from your swollen lips. "Mmm. That's yourâ"
"Mhhm. Just stay still."
Laving his tongue over one of the bites, Sukuna held you near. Savouring your warmth.
The silence finally didn't feel like a void. Even if it was heavy.
He held onto the moment. Clung to its peace as the warmth simmered into cooling sweat on your flesh.
You broke the quiet first.
"Did you mean that?"
He didn't answer you. But his hand cupped your tummy. Fingers still laced in yours as his face tucked against the back of your shoulder.
". . . Was it too much?"
He never thought his voice could ache.
You tried to shift again, and despite the lump in his throat, he clicked his tongue. Squeezed your thigh in warning. "I said stay still, didn't I?"
"You're never too much. Not for me, Sukuna."
There you went, saying his name like it meant something.
Nudging your face to his, Sukuna licked at the tears on your face. A tender act he never thought himself capable of. "Don't say shit like that."
"That I want you? Or that I love you?"
His breath hitched.
Once the knot settled, he pulled out. Hesitantlyâ especially with your heat still clinging to him.
"You love me?" He muttered, laying a kiss on your cheek. Then to your jaw. To your shoulder. Down your body until you were on your back.
Calloused thumbs swept your folds back. Eyeing the lewd streak of cum leaking out of you.
His eyes found yours as you spoke, tender.
"Do you want me to say it again?" One of your hands raked into his hair.
His face nudged between your thighs. His hummed approval followed the flat of his tongue. Laving up your slit. Licking away the mess and holding your thighs open amidst their intense shivers.
Even as you whined. With your eyes on the brink of tears. They were still soft for him.
"I love you."
You shouldn't.
He shouldn't.
But he still said it back.
"My mate."
Low, and grumbled, not those three words but something that spelt a deeper bond. One he finally had.
After licking you clean, Sukuna bundled you up into the sheets. Pushing himself from the bed and returning with a warm towel and a water bottle.
He cradled the back of your head as he gave you the water.
Worshipped your flesh as he wiped you down. Tracing over bruises and bites. His mark.
And when you were finally tucked into his arms. Dozing off with your head nestled on his heart that now beat for you. His tail curled around your leg and his claws soft on your curves. Sukuna understood.
Gojo Satoru left a lot behind with his death. He left his friends, his students, the love of his life, and a daughter who will only ever know him by his name engraved into stone.
cw: angst angst angst! angst with a capital a, hurt no comfort, slight fluff, post shinjuku timeskip, husband & girl dad gojo, character death, grief, mentions of loss, proofread, listened to blue by billie eilish while writing this so yk I'm in my feels rn
art by @ezdubs185 on tiktok! gif divider by @/anitalenia, line divider by @/cursed-carmine.
Gloomy and grey, the clouds above you cry, weeping with you as the chill of the rain nestles you in an all too familiar cold that has settled deep in, digging its venomous claws into your heart long ago. The world around you stills for a moment, but the ache in your heart only grows, the silence that he once used to fill, now suffocating you, as if you were drowning on dry land.
The image of the familiar stone pathway before you still haunts your mind. With each step you take, it never becomes easier; the pathway engraved into the ground feels like it was carved for you, and the soil beneath your feet has become your home across many years and countless visits.
The flowers of the garden bend at their stem, almost like they were bowing in your presence, or perhaps at the loss of hisâthe answer was always unclear to you. The world that once used to bend to his very will, now left in ruins without him.
Lighter footsteps belonging to a smaller frame trail behind you, short legs trying to match your pace as a girl dressed in her bright yellow raincoat, protected from the unforgiving downpour, follows after you, all while mimicking your walk and the sway of your steps, as though she were a copy of you.Â
Together, you walk hand in hand, her smaller fingers wrapped around yours, and you cross the stone trail that has become an unforgettable memory for a child so young and innocent to the cruelties of this world, to the losses of this world. In your spare hands, you each clutch onto flowers as they rest peacefully in your armsâa full-blown bouquet, matching those from your wedding. And in her little arms, a smaller one, full of her favourite colours and the prettiest blooms, cradled closely.Â
Staring back at you, from the tilt of the hill trekked, was a glimpse of your past that continued to haunt youânow in the shape of a headstoneâhis grave.
Gojo Satoru. Loving father, husband, and friend.
âMama?âÂ
Her voice draws your attention away, your gaze drifting towards the childlike innocence in her ocean blue eyesâan ocean you once used to drown in before the world took him away from you. Kneeling before her, careful of spoiling your clothes on the wet grass and soil, you brush away rain-soaked ivory hair from her eyes, her chubby cheeks flushed a faint pink from the cold December air nipping at them.
âYes, sweetie?â
âWhen will daddy come back?â
You smile softlyâcomfortinglyâas you try to swallow down the despair caught in the back of your throat, smiling at her despite the tears brimming in your eyes. Placing a kiss on her chubby cheeks, your arms wrap around her, pulling her into your warm embrace, as you recite the same promise told a thousand times with a tongue laced with lies.
âSoon, sweetie.â Your voice wavers, the tears finally spilling freely.
And standing before him, his name in gold carved into stone, regret runs deep into your soulâguilty for living a life that could have been with him. If only you had held on longer, if only you had never let him escape your grasp, maybe then you wouldnât be picking up the broken pieces of a shattered heart he left behind, with bleeding hands and a daughter who looked everything like him.
And yet, as you look at her, you canât help but feel him beside you, as if he never truly left. As if he were coming alive through the sounds of her childish laughter, in hurried mornings spent rushing to get her to class, and in nights spent cleaning up after hastily thrown toys before tucking her into bed as you read her favourite bedtime stories.
A life for a life, as the saying goes.Â
Although he may have been gone, leaving you alone in a world that only knew how to take and never give, he left with a piece of himself that will continue to live on in her.
âSoon.â
And soon indeed, did the clouds above you finally clear, letting the sun shine down upon you, enveloping you like a halo of false hope. And even in the warmth of its rays, you can still feel him, in the wind carrying his unsaid words of I love yous, and in the ghost of his arms, holding on to a world he left behind.
a/n: my damn spotify crashed in the middle of writing this sobbing </3 also it took me like a whole hour trying to hunt down the right images for the headerâŠ. enjoy some angst while I work my ass off for âYou Before Meâ ;( rem write a fic longer than 500 words without trying to jump challenge! level: impossible </3 also yes this is a repost, I decided to make it a big longer than it was before LOL
a/n 2: I did edit this a bit more so đ too late now since itâs already been reblogged đ THAT DONT MATTERâŠ.
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â what's worse than one idiot in love? two idiots in love. this poor friend group has had to suffer through their inability to communicate enough, but maybe this summer retreat is the perfect opportunity to finally confess some not so secret feelingsâ
pairing friend!choso x f!reader
wc 10.9k
content mdni, fluff, smut, friends to lovers, mutual pining, multiple characters (gojo, sukuna, geto, shoko, nobara, yuuji, megumi), choso is down bad and everyone knows it, idiots in love, summer fun, jealousy, hidden feelings (from a few people mm...), love confessions, dry humping, soft dom choso, body worship, fingering, praise kink, handjob, oral (m receiving), piv sex, cuming inside, pet names (baby), aftercare, alcohol, crushes, minor injuries, friend group dynamics, soft intimacy
a/n this is a rework of an oldddd fic of mine, updated in my current writing style <3 i hope you enjoy! the choso art is by @torucider
The salty summer breeze was the first thing you noticed when your eyes started to blink awake.
It wasn't like the smell of the city, no, it was fresh and gentle, filling up your lungs with the promise of heat, fun, and sun ahead of this much anticipated holiday. Your arms stretched far above your head, and a long sigh escaped your lips as you felt every muscle loosen up atop this unfamiliar bed.
Slowly. Everything moved slowly.
Considering your hectic city life, slow felt good. Maybe this getaway really was a good idea, and you made a mental note to express your gratitude to Shoko for suggesting it and practically forcing you into saying yes.
She was right â this was exactly what you needed. The trip had barely started but you were already sold. All you needed was some quality time away with your best friends.
Doctors really did know best.
But among the chirping birds and the distant crashing waves, another noise caught your attention. More⊠human this time. A laugh you'd recognise anywhere.
It seemed your peaceful morning wouldn't last very long.
You turned to look at your phone with a groan, the screen shining a bright "7am" right in your face.
It was way too early.
But when did that ever stop Satoru Gojo?
You tried to ignore the noise for as long as you could, but eventually your interest was peeked by the commotion. It's not like you could avoid the group you chose to come on this vacation with forever, after all.
So you opened your door, leading straight to the open patio of the villa you and your friends had rented for a quiet summer getaway. Maybe it was your fault for ever believing that was a real possibility.
You were promised cocktails by the pool, sunbathing on the grass, and wholesome bonfire nights. Knowing this group, you had expected a little bit of chaos, sure â but why the hell was Gojo grinning like a maniac, with a water gun pointed directly at a drenched, and, not at all amused Sukuna at 7 in the fucking morning?!
âYou have 3 seconds...â the pink haired one murmured under his breath, his voice a promise of a million ways he could and would kill Satoru.
You wondered how long Gojo had even been planted outside the other man's door to perform this ambush, considering Sukuna had barely stepped outside of his room before being attacked. From Gojo's wide smile, he was clearly pleased with how the plan went.
"OneâŠ" he started counting, but Satoru didn't move. Considering even this far away Sukuna made your blood run cold, you did respect Satoru for standing his ground.
"TwoâŠ" Sukuna snarled, and, to his dismay, was met with another splash right on his already soaked face.
He wouldn't bother counting to three.
Your white haired best friend ran backwards as fast as he could, still facing Sukuna to continue his unrelenting water gun assault. A loud "Worth it!" escaped his lips, but the sound was cut off half way when Sukuna began his chase.
Unlucky for him, it seemed it was all a trap â Suguru was already joining in the fray, jumping in from behind one of the deck chairs.
Well⊠it was nice to know them.
âCan we not start the day with murder...â groaned a voice coming from the door next to yours, and your brain immediately forgot about the war raging on a few feet away.
Choso stood there. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, torso in full display with nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low from his hips. It was rude to stare, but⊠come on, it was impossible not to.
I mean, looking like that should be illegal.
Choso's muscles were curved in all the right places, perfectly toned from his shoulder's to his abs and everywhere in between. Damn the universe for making your crush be this ridiculously hot â at least if he wasn't you'd have some hope of getting over it.
You had had a crush on Choso ever since his little brother Yuuji introduced him to the friend group. It was love at first sight, or, well, lust at first sight. The love thing came later. Not that you'd ever admit it to yourself or anyone else, of course.
Even though you went to bed thinking of him most nights, and could barely stand in his proximity without feeling the heat pooling around your cheeks. You kept telling yourself he was just a man, just attractive, you had crushed before and everything turned out fine. It just took time, but you could get over it.
I mean, remember how you had a crush on Gojo when you had just met? Looking at the idiot being tackled by Sukuna now, you could barely remember what that even felt like.
It would be fine. There was still hope.
But then Choso turned to you â his posture immediately straightened, and you could have sworn you saw the tips of his ears turn pink.
âOh...morningâ he said, smiling softly at you.
Damn that stupid smile.
You opened your mouth to reply, but another mess of pink hair suddenly peeked out from over his shoulder, way too excited for this hour. âWater gun fight?!â Yuuji yelled, running back into the room to find his own weapon.
Choso stepped out of the way with a sigh, watching his little brother run into the grass to join in Gojo's and Geto's bullying of Sukuna. You half expected him to join in just to protect him, but⊠he didn't.
He just stayed right there, dark eyes shifting from your face, to the floor, then back to your face. He almost seemed nervous, or maybe you were reading too much into it.
âDid you sleep well? I hope they didnât wake youâ he asked finally, that deep voice that made your knees weak.
You just nodded and smiled gratefully, always struggling to find words around him. It was really sweet of him to ask. But it didn't mean anything, Choso was sweet, everyone knew that, it's not like you were special or anything. He looked back at you with those careful eyes you loved so much, his mouth opening up to say something whenâ
He immediately got splashed with water.
âThey made meâ said a very guilty Megumi, on the other end of a water gun that was still pointing at Choso.
You brought a hand to your mouth to stifle a laugh at Choso's surprised expression, trying to keep your eyes from the way the water dragged along his muscles and dripped on the floor.
âCome on bro!â yelled Yuuji, still running along the grass. âRevenge!â
Choso let out a small chuckle that definitely said itâs too damn early for this, but went inside to find his water gun anyway. Just like you expected â he'd always rush to his little brothers side.
You actually really liked that about him.
So you stood by your door, taking in the scene as it evolved in front of you.
Sukuna had now seized Gojoâs weapon and split it in half, turning his attention to Suguru, who was running to refill his ammo with the water from the pool. From the way Satoru looked pleased, you guessed he was definitely hiding a spare water gun somewhere.
Yuuji and Megumi were running circles around the pool and trying to splash each other, the dark haired one definitely more invested than he let on. You watched Choso run to his brother's defense, aiming perfectly at the other one's back, before Yuuji betrayed him and splashed his neat twintails.
But Choso didn't mind, laughing along with it.
It's just a crush, you repeated to yourself like a mantra. Be cool.
Finally, you spotted the girls. They watched the scene from the bean bags on the other side of the grass, Shoko smiling with a cigarette already dangling from her lips, and Nobara wildly waving in your direction.
You couldn't help your smile at the way the morning had unfolded.
The sun was shining bright above your perfect little circle of chaos, and you wouldnât change it for the world.
âIdiots, all of themâ Nobara groaned as you sat down on the bright green bean bag next to hers. She had a hat on to protect from the sun, and the most stylish pajama set you think you had ever seen.âWho has that much energy at this hour?!â
"It's better for them to let it out early" Shoko hummed, blowing smoke into the breeze.
"I haven't even had coffee yet" Nobara complained, throwing her had back and covering it with the hat.
"I think it's kinda cute" you said, watching as they all ran around.
"Yeah, yeah" Nobara mocked. "We all know who you think is cute"
"What are youâ"
Before you could complete the question, a jet of water hit you square across the face, splashing everywhere from your chest to the girls sitting next to you.
âWhat the hell?!" you groaned, casting a very mean stare at the white haired menace in front of you. Of course it would be him.
âOopsâ Gojo hummed, a litte guilty. As expected, a fresh water gun was already in hand. âI missed?â
âWho exactly were you trying to hit?â you growled at your best friend, motioned to the others still splashing each other on the other side of the patio. If this was his attempt at getting you to join in the fun, it wasn't working.
The girls stared at him too, soaked and annoyed, but suddenly Nobara's eyes widened and she passed you her hat, motioning to cover your chest with it. Only then had you noticed.
For fucks sake. You were wearing white.
âYou pervert!â you yelled, throwing a sandal at your best friend, though he caught it with ease.
âJust a happy coincidence, princess!â Gojo retorted, ducking from the sandals Nobara and Shoko threw his way too. "Ow! I'm sorry! I'll give you my shirt, here, I'm not even lookingâ"
The commotion easily caught everyone else's attention.
âI swear to God, Satoruââ you growled, but as he promised, Satoru had already thrown his soaking shirt for you to shield yourself with, a chorus of apologies still leaving his lips. "I really didn't realiseâ"
âWhatâs going on?â Choso cut in. Water dripped from his dark strands, and his breathing was a little heavily from rushing over so fast. But he suddenly stopped, dark eyes immediately narrowing at Satoru's half naked body standing over your group, and his wet dark shirt clinging on to your body.
His eyebrow twitched slightly and his jaw clenched, but he still looked at you with kindness. âAre you ok?â he asked you directly, completely ignoring everything else.
Nobara pointed at Gojo, whose mouth fell open in a silent gasp. âSatoru was being a pervertâ she deadpanned, as Shoko nodded solemnly.
âI said Iâm sorry!â Satoru yelled, putting both his hands up in surrender. "We all make mistakes!"
âYouâre an idiotâ Choso rolled his eyes at his friend, holding out his hand to help you stand up.
âAnd youâre too obviousâ Gojo retorted with a wink, running off before he could catch the way Choso snarled at his comment.
But whatever grimace Choso threw in Gojo's direction, it was all gone when you accepted his hand. Suddenly, his focus was completely locked on you.
"I'm ok" you smiled, the touch lingering for a little longer than necessary. âNeeded to get changed anywayâ
Physically, your body was going through your luggage, looking for something to change into, but your mind was gone â the butterflies still danced in your stomach, reminding you of how quickly Choso had come to your rescue just now. At the way his hand fit so perfectly around yours. And God he looked so good in thoseâ
âAm I interrupting your spiral?â Nobara clapped her hands to get your attention. You had completely forgotten her and Shoko had come in after you. âAre you gonna answer the question or not?â
You pursed your lips, exploring your memories but coming out empty handed. âSorry, what was the question?â you asked awkwardly.
"We lost her" Shoko sighed.
âI swear to God...â Nobara exhaled, standing up to join you by the suitcase. She looked over the mess with a hand on her hip and another under her chin, analyzing the options like this was extremely important. Finally, she seemed to have made her choice, raising a swimming costume up near your head.
"If you want impress him, this oneâ
You blinked up at her, opening your mouth to ask who, but everything about the way she glared at you screamed don't play dumb with me.
So you snapped the swimwear from her hands, throwing yourself on the bed next to Shoko. âWhat was your question?â you sighed, staring at the ceiling so your friends couldn't read the embarrassment in your face.
âI asked if youâve fucked him yetâ she declared, matter of fact.
âNobara! No!â you sat up so fast the blood rushed to your head, putting your hands forward to motion her to be quiet. But the other two just stared at you, waiting. âHeâs not like that" you completed with a surrendering exhale.
"You guys are not together?" Shoko raised an eyebrow.
You just shook your head side to side, biting the inside of your cheek. "We havenât even kissed" you admitted.
The two gasped at this very unexpected new information.
âYouâre jokingâ Nobara crossed her arms. âHe looks at you like youâve been married for decades alreadyâ
âWell, he hasnât said anything to me and I...I donât know!" you stood up, pacing across the room, finally able to get these feelings off your chest. "What if weâre wrong and he doesnât even like me?"
âDonât be an idiot. Everyone knows" Nobara huffed out.
"Youâre the only one whoâs questioning itâ Shoko agreed.
That at least got a laugh out of you. âThanksâ you murmured, looking down at your hands. You didn't even know if this realisation made you feel happy or anxious â the stakes were just too high.
âYeah, yeah, whateverâ Nobara waved it off, walking towards the door. âBut seriously, that oneâ she completed, pointing at the swimming costume in your hand.
It was a little more⊠bold than you would normally wear, but hey â maybe it was about time you took your friends advice. They were the ones witnessing you fall apart over this crush for years already anyway.
Maybe it was time to be a little more bold.
You stepped out of your room a few minutes later. Hair fixed with a pair of sunglasses on top, and the swimming costume Nobara had chosen expertly hugging your figure.
Every head snapped to you as you walked towards the group.
Nobara looked proud. Shoko nodded in encouragement. Satoru let out a wolf whistle, and Choso⊠looked very much not ok.
In fact, he looked like something had short circuited in his brain.
âShe broke himâ Gojo whispered, earning a laugh from Suguru next to him.
âPatheticâ Sukuna just rolled his eyes.
âOver here!â Nobara waved with a wicked smile of approval.
Most of the group seemed to be half asleep already, all sunbathing by the pool after a busy morning with all the running around and death threats. You could swear Yuuji was snoring softly, distracting Megumi from his book every few seconds, who looked over at him with an annoyed sigh every time.
"Nice of you to join us" Satoru grinned, moving over to the side to open up space for you.
Right next to Choso.
Had the girls been right about everyone knowing?
"You all look half asleep" you rolled your eyes, sitting next to the dark haired man, but trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. If they all knewâŠ
Did Choso know too?
Did he think you were an idiot?
"We're recharging" Suguru nodded, that casual smile of his.
"Tch. Weak" Sukuna muttered from the side, resting his hand on two bent elbows as he relaxed on the grass.
"You were asleep ten minutes ago" Suguru retorted.
"I wasn't" he growled. He probably was. "The only one asleep is Itadori"
That seemed to wake him up like a spell. "I'm awake!" he said, standing up so fast Megumi almost dropped his book on the pool. "Is it time for another water gun fight?" he asked eagerly.
"I don't have any more guns left" Satoru pouted, while Sukuna opened an evil grin.
Yuuji started listing off different games you could all play, and little by little, everyone seemed to regain the energy. Gojo barely let the man speak, cutting in every half second to offer his own suggestions or agree excitedly with what he was already proposing.
Everyone was joining in the conversation, apart from⊠you and Choso. Who looked at you like he definitely wanted to say something, but wasn't quite sure on how.
"You look beautifulâ he said finally, when your eyes happened to meet. You didn't even mean to, but it seemed neither of you could keep avoiding this dance for too long. âThatâs a great colour on youâ he completed, cheeks growing an adorable shade of red.
You hoped he couldn't see in your face the way your heart was leaping out of your chest.
âThank you, Chosoâ you smiled, biting the inside of your cheek.
âSo itâs settled!â Gojo snapped your attention back to the group, clapping his hands dramatically. âThe first game is chicken fight â the winning team gets control over the speaker for a full 2 hours!â
Shoko and Suguru immediately exchanged a conspiratorial nod. Megumi let out an exasperated sigh, but didn't argue. Nobara rolled her eyes and asked if Gojo was thirteen. Yuuji fist bumped the air, excited like a golden retriever, and Sukuna seemed too enticed by the reward to object.
Choso, in a moment of courage, turned to you, swallowing hard. âDo you want toââ
âYouâre with me, princess!â Gojo scooped you up before Choso could finish his sentence. âLet's talk strategy!â
The sun shone bright up above where the four teams met in the middle of the swimming pool, ready for the first brawl.
Nobara announced there was no way in hell she was getting on anyoneâs shoulders, so she lunged in the shade as the self appointed referee. "Remember, no fowl play" she instructed. "Did you hear that, Sukuna?"
The pink haired man only rolled his eyes, the only indicator that he was listening.
Team number one was you and Gojo: Team The Honoured Ones. You sat tall on his shoulders, as Satoru held you down with firm hands on your thighs, pretending not to notice the way Choso looked murderously at him.
Team number two was Yuuji and Megumi â the latter looking like he'd rather be anyone else. Their team name was Black Flash, which Megumi only agreed to so Yuuji would stop talking.
Team number three was Shoko and Suguru, who looked far too ready for this. Shoko barely waved where she sat atop Suguru's shoulders, the two the very image of serene confidence. Their team name was Uzumaki, suggested by Suguru.
Team number four was Choso and Sukuna: The Cursed Duo. After a long argument, Choso relented and agreed to sit on Sukunaâs shoulders. He had a bit of a pout on his face, you suspected because Yuuji had gone straight to Megumi, but when he saw you â it changed into a smile.
You were halfway through waving at him before Satoru tapped your thigh incessantly. "Focus, princess" he complained. "You're on my team"
If only you weren't resting atop his shoulders, you would have noticed a little pout in Satoru's handsome face. It wasn't like him to be this possessive over you, but it's not like you weren't used to his taunting and teasing.
"I was just assessing the competition" you quickly recovered yourself. "Who are we going for first?"
Satoru hummed underneath you, pondering the question. "I doubt Choso will go against Yuuji, so I can only assume they'll come for us or Suguru" he started, like a professional tactician. "I say we go for Yuuji and Megumin to avoid Sukuna and your boyfriend"
"My whaâ"
"I don't trust Suguru and Shoko, look at them" he immediately cut in, bringing your attention to the other two, still calmly waiting for the brawl too start, not even exchanging a word, like they could speak telepathically. "They're too calm" Satoru squinted, suspicion all over his voice.
"You're right" you hummed, started to feel a little nervous. "But what if they come for us?"
"True" Satoru sighed. "We should be ready for anything"
You nodded, swallowing thickly as you prepared mentally.
"Ready?" Nobara yelled from her reclining chair, laying back to enjoy the sun. "Go!"
The word had barely left her lips before Sukuna was lunging towards Satoru. Clearly someone still wanted to take revenge on the water gun attack from earlier.
And to your complete dismay, Team Uzumaki was quickly moving towards you too.
"Satoru!" you yelled, but his hands were strong where he held you down.
"Fight, princess!" he urged, and the sound of someone sinking was enough to snap your attention back to the game.
Team Black Flash hadn't survived the first charge, with Megumi collapsing from on top of Yuuji before they had barely moved an inch.
At least that left you with only two other teams to worry about. But Yuuji sinking had caught Choso's attention, distracting him.
This was a perfect opportunity.
But before you could extend your hands to try a shy push at Choso's shoulders, Suguru had already reached your team.
"You're getting slow, Satoru" he taunted, Shoko immediately grabbing you by the shoulder's with a non chalant "sorry".
You managed to interlock your hands with hers, the two of you laughing and not trying all that hard to push the other off. Suddenly, though, your body sank deeper, and Shoko's face twisted in surprise as she plummeted off Suguru.
"Fault!" Nobara yelled. "You're not supposed to kick the opposing teams, Satoru"
"That was never a rule!" he yelled, as Suguru and Shoko emerged, scowling at their white haired friend and his cheese eating grin.
Following a quick discussion where Sukuna agreed brute force from the base players should be allowed, Team The Honoured Ones were named the victors of the first round.
Naturally, Shoko and Suguru decided they'd rather have a smoke in the sun instead, and withdrew from the competition, calling fowl play.
"They're just bad losers" Satoru sighed, already helping you up on his shoulders again.
This meant there were only three teams standing this time.
Megumi and Yuuji had decided to switch positions, with Yuuji now standing proud on poor Megumi's shoulders. You and Gojo exchanged a glance, knowing very well what this meant â Sukuna and Choso were definitely coming towards you first.
"Ready!" Nobara called again. "Go!"
As expected, Sukuna and Choso rushed towards you â and Satoru rushed towards them.
âYouâre going down!â Gojo yelled at the other team, wide smile all over his face.
âTry itâ Sukuna retorted with an evil grin.
While you and Choso looked very much terrified on top of the other two.
Your hands snapped forwards, trying to reach for your crush even while your whole body felt as if electrocuted from the sheer anticipation of being that close to him.
The fact that Satoru kept waving you around frantically didn't help â every time you thought you had an opening, you were somehow swerved in the other direction.
What the hell were he and Sukuna doing down there?!
You finally managed to reach your hands towards Choso, but he blocked your attack with a loud "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? Iâ"
âYou have to push herâ Sukuna growled from beneath him, clearly growing angrier and angrier at his teammates inability to harm you.
But just as he opened his mouth to complain again, his pink head disappeared into the water, taking your crush with him.
And thus, Team Cursed Duo was defeated.
"No complaining, Sukuna" Nobara clicked her tongue as the latter reemerged and immediately went for Gojo's throat. "You're the one who agreed to it"
The three teams regrouped for the third and final round.
The rules were clear this time: any attacks coming from the base players would result in immediate disqualification, and bluetooth speaker rights would be revoked for the time being. It seemed his defeat had changed Sukuna's mind fairly quickly.
"Don't worry, we got this" Satoru reassured from under you, and you offered another proud nod.
Your heart still beat fast from last brawl, and more so from how close you and Choso had been.
It was ridiculous, you felt ridiculous â but somehow, you thought you might not be the only one.
Because Choso himself seemed very preoccupied with looking anywhere else but at you, his gaze firmly fixed on the water and the sky and his brother like the whole world was far too interesting.
You tried to catch his gaze, give him a thumbs up that indicated he didn't hurt you, but every time you happened to catch his eyes he averted them straight away. And you could swear the tips of his ears were turning pink.
"Choso is acting weird" you said to Satoru, keeping your voice low.
You noticed the mess of white hair move from between your thighs, before he let out a low chuckle. "Someone's jealous" he hummed, amused.
"Jealous?" you questioned, tilting your head. It was true Choso didn't have his usual calm expression, and his arms were firmly crossed over his middle while Sukuna tried to argue some strategy. His jaw was locked tight, face turning into a tiny grimace.
It was adorable how he seemed to have no control over his facial expressions.
ButâŠjealous?
"Of what?" you asked again, and you heard Satoru scoff.
"I'm pretty handsome, you know" you could feel him roll his eyes without even having to see it.
"Sure, but" you retorted. "Why would he be jealous of you? We're friends"
To your surprise, Satoru didn't argue again. You expected a tease, for him to say something along the lines of you're not my type anyway. But⊠it didn't come. If anything, you could have sworn you heard him sigh.
"Of course" he agreed, a few seconds too late. "Now focus, princess"
Nobara was already raising a hand, and motioning the beginning of the third brawl.
Team Black Flash were steadier this time, completely ignoring you and heading to Team Cursed Duo instead. "Come on bro, show me what you got!â Yuuji yelled, putting his hands up to reach for his brother.
Choso's hands locked with his as he tilted his body to the side. He was trying his hardest to not hurt Yuuji, of course, but the pressure was too much for poor Megumi to handle, and he ended up sinking after putting up a fair fight. Later, everyone agreed it was a honourable defeat.
"Yuuji? You ok?" while Choso was distracted by scanning the water for his brother, Team Honoured Ones attempted a sneak attack.
Satoru tried his best to be quiet, though that wasn't really his forte. Right as you were getting ready to push Choso, Sukuna turned around in the blink of an eye â and your hands ended up finding your opponent's chest instead of his broad shoulders.
Chosoâs body jolted straight like the sudden contact had electrocuted him. He instinctively reached for your wrists, closing his large palms around them when you welcomed it with a laugh. Encouraged by your playful smile, he began trying to tip you over, but you were stronger than you looked.
Sukuna wasn't as amused, though. With a hinge of his hips, he tipped his weight forwards â and before you knew it, Choso was falling into you and you were falling backwards, losing all balance.
Gojo tried his best to hold on to your legs and stabilise you, but was quickly overpowered by the weight of both you and Choso falling fast, and soon he was submerged too.
The water filled your open mouth as you sunk slowly, your hands desperately reaching forwards, until it found his. Choso had already locked your hands together, his other hand finding your waist to pull you out of the water as fast as possible.
"I'm sorry" he panted, completely drenched himself, helping you hold on to the edge of the pool.
Despite the coughing from the sudden water you had inhaled, you still managed to laugh. "Don't worry about it" you waved it off.
âTeam Cursed Duo winsâ Sukuna announced, but Choso didn't seem that interested in celebrating.
Despite the enduring sunlight, night time eventually came, bringing with it a more forgiving breeze to squelch the heat.
Because of the changing rules during chicken fight, no one could decide who had the rights over the speaker. Sukuna and Satoru had spent a good thirty minutes complaining, all the while Suguru took control of the music.
Nobara and Shoko were busy making everyone cocktails, but after you had been the test subject to a few too many failed attempts, you decided to excuse yourself to the furthest bean bag, and just let the summer breeze tickle your skin before your friends could get you too drunk.
Right now, you were in a perfect state, somewhere between tipsy and just high on the day's excitement.
Choso had been gone for a while, along with Megumi and Yuuji. It was sweet how close he was to his brother and his brother's best friend, but you couldn't deny you found yourself justâŠlooking for him.
Every time you heard a shuffle of feet or a noise far ahead, you wondered if it was him. Looking for his presence somewhere up in the clouds and also in the nearby voices, your mind conjuring up a million scenarios and things you could talk to him about, despite being too shy to just tell him how you feel.
Was this even normal?
Did everyone with a crush just forget to function when the object of their admiration was near?
You groaned a little, sinking deeper into the chair and just staring at the stars above. They were so bright over here. So much more so than in the city.
It was only the first day, but you already didn't want to ever leave.
âCan I sit here?â a voice finally came, and you had to blink your eyes repeatedly to make sure you weren't day dreaming again, lost in one of your wild scenarios that would never come true.
No, Choso was actually standing there. Handsome and tall against the moonlight, his distracting abs now concealed in a compression shirt that was too tight for your own good.
And he was smiling.
He always smiled around you.
"Sure" you nodded, and he took a seat in the beanbag in front of you. He was clearly too large for it, and you laughed a little at seeing him awkwardly try to fit, but his adorable pout only made you laugh more.
"These aren't very comfortable" he sighed, extending his legs to try and regain some balance. They were so close to yours they almost touched â almost.
"We can move to the chairs, if you like" you suggested, though that would mean going closer to the group.
You didn't want that, but part of you also wanted to know if he did.
As much as everyone teased, you were still not that convinced he had a crush on you too. It would simply be too good to be true.
When was reality ever that kind?
Choso turned around, looking for where the other chairs were scattered. "I'm alright here" he said, despite his clear discomfort. "âŠIf you are?" he added then, bringing his dark eyes to you.
"I'm alright here, too" you smiled.
"Good" Choso nodded awkwardly, his gaze moving from his hands, to where your legs almost touched, and then back to your face. The silence between you was a little awkward, sure, but it was far from quiet â at least on your end, the sound of your heart was loud enough to fill the whole space.
"Are you enjoying the holiday?" you asked.
"Yes" he nodded. "I'm glad Yuuji convinced me to come"
So were you.
"How did he convince you?" you asked lightheartedly, but from Choso's reaction you would have thought you just asked him something deeply personal.
"He, uhâ" his hand came to rub the back of his neck, the curve of his bicep immediately catching your attention. Was this a plan to distract you again?!
Surely not. Choso wasn't one to play games â all his endearing awkwardness was exactly who he was.
"He said you were coming" he finally admitted, with a sigh.
You felt your brows furrow close, mouth opening before you even knew what to say. "You came because of me?"
"UmâŠyeah, I did" he confirmed, staring at his hands.
"So you weren't excited to hang out with Sukuna and Gojo?" you tried to tease, and he finally looked at you with that grimace you loved.
"Definitely not" he said, and you both laughed.
It was a gorgeous sound.
On the other side of the patio, your friends were all lost in casual conversation. Megumi and Yuuji had now rejoined the group, playing some kind of card game on the grass with Nobara. Shoko and Sukuna were talking about something, or, Sukuna was talking about something, but she seemed happy enough to listen. Satoru and Suguru were the ones standing a little further away, talking about something that seemed serious, but who could guess with those two.
"Did you hurt your hand?"
Your head snapped back to Choso, and you noticed it was only you who was distracted looking at your friends. He was focused on your wrist, and how you rubbed it softly with your other hand, flexing your fingers open and close.
You hadn't even noticed you were doing it.
"Oh" you tried to wave it off. âI think I fell at a weird angle during chicken fightâ you admitted with an awkward laugh.
Choso didn't laugh, though.
âLet me seeâ he squinted his eyes, opening his palm for you to take.
You placed your hand on top of his, holding in your breath as Choso inspected your skin. He closed both hands around yours, focused on looking for any sign of bruising or broken skin. It didn't even hurt that much, but you weren't saying no to an excuse to have him look at you like that.
And you watched him â how beautiful he looked with his hair down, falling all messy around his handsome face; still a bit wet from the pool and clinging on to his forehead. His skin felt soft and warm against yours, the perfect contrast to the cool night breeze.
Choso's eyes darted to yours quickly, shyly, but you didn't avert yours. And so he didn't either.
How odd that this was the most tender moment the two of you had exchanged so far, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to be fully present. It felt like a dream, like you were floating high above the clouds â if it was the alcohol's doing, or the adrenaline from the day, or simply the way Choso's eyes looked at yours, you weren't sure.
But everything about this felt⊠magical.
Slowly, carefully, Choso closed your hand, satisfied that you weren't actually hurt. But then, he brought it close to him, as you watched with wide open eyes â as he left the tiniest kiss on your knuckles.
His face went all red, finally breaking the eye contact, and you could swear you heard his heart beat just as loud as yours.
Maybe all your friends had been right, after all.
âIf you do it again, I might forget it hurts" you teased, earning a warm smile from him.
âGood" Choso hummed. "Then Iâll keep goingâ
Your breathing hitched as Choso touched his lips against your knuckles again, firmer this time. You instinctively opened your palm, an invitation, and Choso interlaced your fingers together, looking at you under his dark eyelashes.
âDo you⊠want to go somewhere else?â he whispered, and you nodded yes.
You opened the door to your room, hoping no one else from the group had noticed the two of you sneaking away. If you had only looked back you might have noticed Shoko's approving smile and Nobara's whispered "finally", as well as Satoru's puzzling stare. But you weren't exactly paying attention to them right now.
Right now, it was just you and Choso.
"Sorry it's a bit messy" you said awkwardly, noticing you hadn't had the time to clear away all the clothes you had left on the bed, in your haste to find an appropriate swimming costume. You quickly shifted your attention to it, anything to get you away from how nervous you felt, and started putting everything away again.
Refusing to look at how Choso stood awkwardly in the middle of your room, unsure of what to do. "It's fine" he tried to say, though you were hard at work. "You should see Yuuji's room"
You smiled, finishing up and placing the suitcase back on the floor. Now you really had to turn back to him.
"Do you want to get some fresh air, maybe?" you asked, again trying to calm your beating heart. There was a little private balcony at the back, with a loveseat that would do just fine. Some air would definitely help your nerves.
"Yeah" Choso agreed, following you out into the night again.
As predicted, the breeze did help you breathe easier. You sat on the loveseat right by the back wall, shuffling your feet nervously on the ground; but Choso didn't join you.
"I've been meaning to talk to you" he said, putting his hands inside his pockets. Were his trembling like yours were?
"About what?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible, hoping he couldn't hear the anticipation in your voice.
"I justâŠ" he started, clearly unsure of what he even wanted to say. "I've been meaning to say something, and I'm not sure if it's the best time, butâ"
"You can tell me" you cut in, hands clasped together and sweating embarrassingly.
Choso's eyes narrowed at you, clearly having noticed how odd you were acting. But then he smiled. And then his smile turned into a chuckle that you joined into.
Two idiots, weren't you?
"Do you remember that one time we went to the movies?" Choso started, a little more confident than before. "The first time, maybe a couple weeks after Yuuji introduced me to your group?"
"I remember" you nodded, turning your head at the memory. You were surprised Choso even recalled it, considering how long ago it had been.
"It was some horror movie Yuuji picked" he laughed, shuffling a little. "He was so excited, but I⊠I could barely look at the screen. When he asked me about my favourite scene later I had to lie, and I felt terrible. I never lie to my brother"
You were a little confused, but listened to what he was telling you with a focused expression. "Why weren't you paying attention?" you asked.
Choso finally looked at you. Breathing in, and out. Taking his time.
"Because you were sitting next to me" he admitted finally. "And all I could think about was how pretty you looked"
Your mouth fell open in complete surprise, but Choso kept going.
âYou... youâre incredible, you knowâ he exhaled. âIâve always thought that. Every time. And the way you smiled todayâŠ"
He took a breath to steady himself, his eyes closing as if lost in memory, and the sweetest smile on his lips.
âSeeing how you smiled today made me wish I could be around to watch you smile like that every timeâ he continued. âIt made me wish I could be the one making you smile that wayâ
Oh.
Oh.
You were sure your hands were still trembling, but you couldn't really feel them. It was like time itself⊠had just stopped.
âYou areâ you heard yourself say though your throat was squeezed tight, and then the dip of the loveseat as Choso settled next to you.
"Hey" he said softly, one hand finding yours where it rested nervously on your lap, the other cupping your cheek. "Don't cry" he begged you, using the pad of his thumb to dry the tears threatening to fall.
"I didn't realise I was" you laughed at yourself, leaning into his hand. "I think I'm just happy"
"Really?" Choso was the one whose voice sounded a little strained this time, but his face had a smile to match yours.
"Really" you nodded. "I didn't think you felt it too"
Choso's bottom lip pushed forward a little in a small pout hearing you say that. "How could I not?" he asked.
How could you not?
Right then, you weren't sure if you felt like an idiot for dismissing all your friends claims and waiting this long, or if the surprise just outweighed anything else.
Why did you automatically expect good things wouldn't happen to you?
Because right now, the best person you could have dreamed of was staring at you with stars in his eyes. And he wasn't pulling back.
Neither were you.
"I like you too" you finally admitted, the words you struggled with for so long finally leaving your lips. In your worse nightmares, Choso turned away or mocked you â but in reality, he didn't do any of that.
If anything, you didn't think you had ever seen him this happy.
"You do?" he repeated, like he just wanted to hear you say it a million more times.
"Yes, you idiot" you laughed at yourself. "Apparently everyone knows" you added, hoping to share some of the shame you felt.
"Yuuji said that too" he sighed, embarrassed. So that's why he had disappeared with his brother for so long.
Despite being mortified by the prospect, the two of you shared an easy laugh. One that was like a weight off your shoulders.
"I wasn't sure if I should do it here, I meanâ" he started to say, interlacing your hands together. "I didn't want to make the trip awkward"
"I'm happy you did" you reassured. There was no way you would have survived this trip otherwise⊠not with Choso constantly half naked around you.
"You are?" he swallowed thickly, shocked at how this had gone better than expected. You wondered what his expectations were, if he also had nightmares as bad as yours.
Instead of answering, you shifted forwards a little forwards, resting your forehead on his as you let the tears flow as they needed to. Choso was right there to catch each one, with his lips this time â kissing every inch of your cheeks as the two of you breathed together like a question waiting for an answer.
When you opened your eyes and smiled at him again, Choso closed the gap.
His lips found yours tentatively at first, nothing but a soft brush as the two of you held your breath. It was when you finally exhaled deeply that he pressed against you more firmly, and your lips parted to invite him in.
You were finally doing this.
Not even your most wonderful dreams could have been better than this.
Choso explored your mouth like he was dying to learn the shape of you, your taste, every smooth curve of your lips. His hands stayed on your cheeks, enjoying how warm and soft you were, still dragging each tear away.
"ChoâŠ" you whispered his name, pulling him into you, all the invitation he needed to deepen the kiss.
You wrapped both your hands around his neck, leaning so far back you almost fell from the loveseat, but Choso was right there to pull you back. His hands hovered, a little unsure before landing on your waist, steadying you, digging into your skin with sweet reverence and desire.
"You're so beautiful" he hummed again, like he couldn't believe the two of you were finally here. The kiss was a little messy, but between each awkward bump of your noses the two of you laughed, remembering the years of affection that had led to this moment.
You pulled back a little, bringing your hands to caress his cheeks instead. "I really like your tattoo" you laughed a little, brushing your thumb over the dark stripe right above his nose. "Is now a good time to tell you that?"
Choso laughed, leaning his forehead on yours. "You could have told me anytime" he said, rocking his head side to side and enjoying where it touched yours.
"I think I was embarrassed" you admitted, biting your lower lip.
"Why?" he asked, tilting your head up so he could look in your eyes again.
How were you supposed to think of anything else when he kept looking at you like that?
"I didn't think you felt the same" you admitted, nose scrunching at how silly it all felt now.
Choso's response was to press your lips together, firmly now, a promise. "I always did" he whispered against you, making all the hairs in the back of your neck stand up.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you taunted, playfully pushing his chest back, and enjoying how that only made him pull you in more.
"I thought you might be⊠with someone else" he admitted, digging his hands just a little further into your waist.
"It was always you" you confessed this time, a little shy.
Choso blinked at you like that was the last thing he expected you to say.
He kissed you again â deeper, more passionate. Before you knew it, he was on top of you, your two bodies far too big for the small two-seater, but he was very careful to not crush you with his weight.
"Is this ok?" he pulled back a little, giving you space to readjust underneath him.
You nodded with a smile, wrapping both legs around his waist and pulling him back into you. The poor man blushed from his neck to the tips of his ears, but he eagerly sank into you, rocking his hips against yours in a way you did not expect from sweet Choso.
Still, his touch was respectful, careful not to touch anywhere that could be too much too soon. His hands remained steady on your waist â but the growing bulge where his hips pressed pressed into you was getting harder and harder to ignore.
If he wanted you just as much as you wanted him⊠it was only right to be a little more forward, right?
So you bit his lip playfully, not enough to hurt but enough that his dark eyes snapped open in surprise. Your legs closed around his waist again and your hand moved down to where his was, still resting on your middle, gently encouraging it even further down.
His breathing completely stopped, but Choso allowed you to move it for him, slowly dragging his palm from your waist to your hips and, finally, settling on your thigh. Like a match had just been struck, Choso let out a guttural, deep grunt as he squeezed your flesh, lowering himself down to kiss you again.
His hips kept dragging into you with barely contained desire, all sense out the window now that you gave him permission to touch you in that way. You matched his rhythm, breath growing more and more shallow as you felt the heat pooling between your thighs.
"Fuck, Cho" you moaned, nails digging deep into his shoulders that you used to stabilize yourself. "Feels good"
"Y-yeah?" he moaned, almost a desperate whimper with how bad he wanted this.
You didn't bother responding â your body was already moving on its on, urged by this primal need you had for him. Your hands moved to remove his shirt, not caring at all that the little clothes you had on were askew, revealing far more of you than Choso thought he'd see this early on.
And you noticed the way Choso looked embarrassingly away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by staring. You looked down at your swimming costume, then back up at him with a wicked smile.
âYou can take it off if you wantâ you suggested, perching yourself up on your elbows.
Choso wasted no time â he swallowed hard, and with a hypnotized nod, moved to undo the swimming costume you still had on.
The fabric fell down, revealing your bare chest to him. Choso looked somewhere between drunk and completely awestruck, with the way he softly gasped at you, like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"Can I?" he asked, a small drop of sweat trickling from his temple.
You smiled, tangling your hand onto his dark strands to urge him forwards. Choso relinquished with no push back, sinking his face into your breasts and closing both hands on them.
"ChoâŠ" you moaned out his name, encouraging him further, all restraint out the window.
The sound of his name from your lips drove Choso absolutely insane, his large hands roughly palming your mounds as his mouth tried to give similar attention to each side, sucking and licking every inch of you. "Fuck, babyâŠ" he whimpered between them, making you moan at the affectionate nickname.
Your hand tightened on his head, pulling his hair slightly, though it only seemed to turn him on even more. Your back arched against the love seat and Choso took the opportunity to slide a forearm behind you, making you arch into him further.
He sucked on your already hard nipples, playing and rolling it with his tongue as his eyes moved to your face, so beautiful and needy for him.
Your thighs were still squeezing his hips, his rhythm against your clothed cunt never faltering. It felt good, really good, but you wanted more.
"Cho" you called, biting your lips at him.
"Yeah, pretty?" he asked, face all flushed and eyes dilated with pure desire. Even when addressing you, he refused to stop his worship of your body.
"You can take it off" you repeated your words from earlier, hoping he'd understand what you meant. "All of it" you completed, with a roll of your hips, making a point to press against his bulge.
Choso swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath in. "YouâŠwant me to?" he asked.
Maybe it wasn't the best idea â your friends were somewhere outside, probably too drunk to care, but surely someone would notice your absence soon enough.
At least, that's what your brain would have thought if you weren't in the exact position you had been dreaming about for years.
You wanted Choso. Needed him. For far longer than you cared to admit.
So you were ok with being greedy.
"I want you to" you rolled your hips again, and that was all Choso needed.
He nodded, immediately bringing his hands to finish removing your clothes. He was clearly nervous, but when he finally began to pull the fabric down, he did it so slow it felt like torture.
Was Choso also trying to seize the moment? The thought alone made you giggle. To want someone who wanted you just as bad⊠it was more than you ever thought you could get.
And there was no denying Choso wanted you bad.
âYouâre going to kill me...â he sighed when he revealed all of you, laying beautifully onto the loveseat, eager for him. He pushed himself back on his knees, taking his time to admire you like a painting.
His defined abs glistened in the moonlight, distracting, stealing all your focus. Choso was built so beautifully, like he had been sculpted by the gods themselves.
And it seemed he thought the same of you.
"FuckâŠ" he muttered as one hand dragged from your cheek, to your collarbone, to your navel. Choso took his time exploring every inch of you, letting his warm touch ghost over your skin before he took things further, like he knew he was already addicted and wanted to savour each moment.
When his hand finally reached between your thighs, he found you dripping.
"You'reâ" his words cut out as his fingers played with your heat, coating himself in your slick, your legs parting eagerly. His head dripped forwards, bangs covering his eyes, trying as best as he could to control himself.
Until he couldn't anymore.
Carefully, he slid one thick digit inside of you. It found no resistance, sinking into you so eager and wet, earning a loud moan that had his head snapping back to yours.
âLike this, baby?â he asked so sweetly, despite how he was already adding another finger inside to stretch you further. His fingers moved slowly at first, but soon they pumped into you faster, and faster, and you had to bring your hands to his thick forearm to brace yourself.
âMmmh yeaâ you moaned, squeezing the veins that protruded from his skin, his dark eyes completely locked on where your bodies met.
"You're taking it so well" he praised, groaning when it made you clench around him. "FuckâYou like that?"
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt his movements become rougher, faster. "So beautiful like this" he praised you again.
Your back arched off the seat, and Choso again used the opportunity to snake his other arm around you, pulling you close into him. In this position, you could feel his rock hard erection against your thigh, and you were desperate to know what it felt like inside of you.
One of your hands moved to his bulge, pressing into it as Choso curled his fingers just right inside you. Choso let out a surprised breath, but didn't pull back â instead, he shifted so you could feel all of him.
Your hand found its way past his swimming trunks, your mouth immediately hanging open in shock at the sheer size of him. You moved your hand up and down, exploring, noticing how he was just as long as he was thick, the thought of taking all of him already making you drool.
"Ah" he panted, head falling to your collarbone as you continued to stroke him. Despite his closed eyes and fucked out expression, Choso never stopped the motion of his fingers inside of you, completely focused on your pleasure.
You could feel yourself getting close from his fingers alone, but you didn't want it to stop there.
âI want youâ you whispered into his ear, and instantly felt his whole body jolt on top of you.
The movement of his fingers stilled for just a second, before he resumed them like clockwork. "Are you sure?" he asked you, pulling back to look in your eyes again.
How could he be so handsome and sweet at the same time.
âI'm sureâ you nodded, bringing one hand to cradle his beautiful face, while the other kept stroking his cock.
Choso pressed a kiss to your lips as he slowly removed himself from you. He stood up slowly as not to hurt you, and finally began to remove the rest of his clothes.
Just as you expected, Choso was beautiful. Every inch of him. And seeing him like that, naked and towering over you with affection in his eyes, only made you need him more.
You sat up fast, your mouth opening around his cock before Choso even realised what you were about to do. You held it with one hand, giving it a shy lick first, tasting the saltiness of his precum on your tongue.
"BabyâŠ" he moaned, placing one hand on your head. He didn't push, just felt the movement with you; the way you started to open up around him, taking him in your mouth inch by inch. "You'reângh, really good at that" he groaned.
Your mouth kept the back and forwards motion, struggling with his length as it started to hit the back of your throat. Choso moaned at how it constricted around him, seconds away from coming in your mouth if he didn't pull himself back.
"You're gonna make meâ" his voice shook a little, his hips chasing you already.
"What?" you asked, knowing exactly what he meant, but unable to resist seeing his lustful face.
His adams apple bobbed up and down when you playfully licked him again, the hand on your hair pulling your strands just a little bit more. Choso was close to losing control, and you loved every bit of it.
"You want me toângh" he tried to speak, bringing his eyes to your beautiful face. "You want me to come down your throat?"
You nodded yes, eager, salty tears starting to streak down your face. You were desperate to make him feel good, to know what he tasted like, to keep hearing those delicious noises he kept making.
But then, he pulled away again. Fast, just at the last second when he really couldn't hold it in anymore, and moved to tower on top of you, laying you back down on the loveseat. "I want to feel you first" he panted, his tip already touching your entrance while you opened your legs wide for him.
"Please" you moaned, and Choso swallowed the end of the word with a kiss. His mouth sank into you, and his cock sank into your heat, stretching you fully as you whimpered into his mouth.
He was big. Too big. And Choso was aware of it.
âSlowlyâ he reassured you, brushing your hair away from your face. âIâll be gentleâ he said with a kiss to the top of your head, and you had no reason to believe otherwise.
You let yourself sink into him, closing your arms around his shoulders as you began to relax. To further help, his hand moved to circle your clit, gently massaging the bundle of nerves that made you clench around him.
"Does it feel good?" he asked, starting to move his hips into you, in and out, in and out.
"So good" you whimpered, chasing his lips for a kiss again. "You're so big, Cho"
He smiled at the compliment, but didn't let the praise distract him. His touch was careful and precise, helping you relax around him and take him inch by inch, until he finally bottomed out.
"You're doing so well, pretty" he kissed the top of your head, fully sheathed into you now.
Your body clenched as it tried to adjust, and Choso was already struggling to keep his composure. But when your nails dug into his back, and you bit your lips at him, Choso knew he was done for.
He let himself pick up the pace, stretching you so deliciously all else faded to the background. All you could think about was Choso Choso Choso, and how good he felt, how warm his hands were all over your body, how delicious his tongue tasted.
"You have to be more quiet, baby" he whispered against your mouth, muffling your moans with a rough kiss.
âFuck, Cho, you-â you tried to say, but his hips angled just right and his pace grew even faster, all your words meshing together into a whimper of pleasure instead.
âYouâre so beautifulâ he groaned against your lips. âSo fucking beautiful like thisâ
Your nails were drawing blood from his shoulders, but neither of you cared. It felt too good to stop. You had wanted this for too long to stop.
Despite his earlier words, Choso was also struggling to control his sounds. His moans of pleasure filled your ears like music as he panted on top of you, kissing every inch of your face and neck he could find.
"I'm close" he said, head falling forwards as his eyes shut tight, face contorting in pleasure.
You wanted to see him like this forever.
Completely drunk in you.
âChoâ you muttered, pulling him even deeper with your legs, nails leaving marks all over his body. âCum inside of meâ you asked.
He huffed out all the breath from his lungs, struggling to believe what you had just said.
âFuckâ he grunted, hips going faster and faster. âAre you sure, baby?â he checked again.
âYeahâ you moaned in pleasure, the sounds mixing in with his as you both approached your climax.
âNot before youâ he said instead, taking your clit between his thumb and index, rolling the bud carefully, knowing exactly how to drive you insane.
Your body began to shake as the heat started pooling upwards, and just as you were about to tip over the edge, Choso closed your lips with his, drinking up all your moans.
Your body was shaking, pulling him in and milking him desperately, but it was the sounds you were making that made him reach his peak.
"Take it" he grunted, slamming his hips into you as his seed began to spill. You felt the heat filling you up, and your whole body begged for more, but the only words you could get out were his name.
"ChosoâŠ" you whispered once more, and he let himself relax on top of you.
His arms closed around your waist, pulling you into his chest as he readjusted to your side, slowly removing himself from you. It was a little awkward in the two-seater, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
Being nestled into Choso's chest was everything you needed right now.
He slowly caressed your thigh, hand brushing the sweat away from your forehead and tucking your hair behind your ear. Even after all of this, he looked at you like something precious, something he needed to protect.
âThank youâ Choso whispered against your hair, leaving a kiss to your temple.
How the hell was he so sweet?
ââŠThank you?â you echoed with a laugh, trying to tilt your head towards him, but Choso didn't let you â choosing to leave another kiss to your forehead, then another, and another, until you went back to resting on his chest.
âI guess...â he started, all shy. "For being youâ he completed, dropping his head to the crook of your neck.
"You're really sweet" you murmured, unsure if you wanted to cry or laugh. All you knew is you just wanted to be right here.
Choso didn't reply to that, his face turning into a small pout, but he was too happy to pretend to be self conscious. "I'm sorry I took so long" he said instead.
"I'm sorry too" you nuzzled into him, hand finding his. âIâve wanted this for a while, you knowâ you muttered, your face warm against his chest while Choso softly caressed your hair.
âReally?â he asked, enjoying how your words made him feel. "Me too" he admitted.
âSince when?â you asked, curious.
But Choso only let out a small chuckle. âI think Iâve been in love with you since the first time I saw youâ he admitted, looking up at the sky instead of you, letting you in on a secret he had never dared utter out loud.
You followed his gaze, turning your head around to look up at the stars. It was a beautiful night. "Why today?â you asked again.
âI couldnât hold it in anymoreâ he replied, resting his cheek against your head.
âWas it because I was on Gojoâs team for chicken fight?â you teased, remembering how your friend had said Choso was jealous earlier.
âNoâ Choso answered too quick, though his arms held you tighter. âBut I canât say I was a fan of thatâ he murmured shyly, earning a chuckle out of you.
"You're cute" you laughed, sinking into him.
"How's your wrist?" he asked, hand brushing over the skin that felt tender earlier.
"Doesn't hurt anymore" you noted. "Guess the kissing really did work"
Choso laughed, bringing your hand to his lips again. "As many as you need" he said against your knuckles.
"I might not ever want you to stop" you muttered, a little shy.
"I hope so" he exhaled, bringing you in closer.
You both stayed like that, holding each other in the hot summer night. You didn't speak much, but you didn't need to â so much of what you felt rested in the in between, in the space the two of you effortlessly shared. Choso just made you feel so incredibly comfortable, so perfectly safe.
You could hear some faint laughter coming from the other side of the villa, the signs of a party raging on without you, but neither of you rushed to join the group just yet.
Shoko really had been right, after all. You really needed this holiday.
You let the weight of the day wash over you, as Choso cradled your body close under the stars. All the fun and laughter and confessions, and the promises of much more to come.
And as you held each other close, you both knew â this would be a summer to remember.Â
i hope you enjoyed <3 this won the poll for my 1 year anniversary here on tumblr, thank you to everyone who voted and for all my readers too! hope you all have the most wonderful day/night. mwah!
MONSTROUS APPETITES, SUKUNA
my submission for @lemonswirlss's 3k circus collab!
synopsis. when you decide to join a travelling circus, the last thing you expect is to form a queer bond with the famed âtwo-faced demonââthe four-armed, four-eyed, two-mouthed circus freak sukuna.
contains. true form sukuna, p in v, dubious ethics, cannibalism (past), two dick sukuna, a live animal is eaten.
wc. 12.3k
I.
The first time you see him, youâre a newly hired aerialist at his motley circus. Fresh from an interaction with the pleasant yet unsettling ringmaster, Kenjaku, whoâd effused the merits of his staff and demanded you explore the different attractions, youâd been drawn away from his presence and towards his veiled stage. It had been accompanied by only a mild annoyance; why did you have to explore first, before being able to settle down in your own quarters? To view the stage youâd be performing on, rather than this nameless stranger?
Wheels poke from beneath the stage, and the door at the side is triple-locked shut. Itâs what had drawn you to the attraction, that niggling curiosity of why is it still in the caravan when it's meant to be performing? A red curtain covers the front of the caravan, and a showman stands before it, projecting his voice as he soaks in the crowd.
ââmore monster than human, with an appetite so ravenous he couldnât be matched by a dozen lions! He ate his own twin in the womb, killed his mother chewing his way out of her stomach, is a scourge on men and women alikeâŠâ the man gesticulates, face lit with manic glee. âIt feasts on women and children; is beholden to no God; he is an abomination made real; a bane to all that is just⊠I introduce to you, the two-faced demon!â
The curtains open. Around you, people gasp. A woman swallows a scream, hands cupping her face; beside her, her husband is sickeningly pale as he holds his wifeâs arm in a white-knuckled grasp. A child shrieks, hiding behind his motherâs legs, and the mother ushers him away with a terrified prayer. The two-faced demon lounges lazily, separated from you by thick metal bars within his miniscule cage.
Heâs not even that ugly, you think, vaguely mystified by the theatrics of the audience. Heâs horrifyingly tall, yes, standing at least a head above you. The two-faced demonâs torso is unfathomably wide and entirely bare, tattoos tracing his well-chiseled abdomen up to the lines of his sculpted face, down beneath his low-slinging pants. Disconcertingly, a mouth sits where his belly button should, wide spread in a grotesque grin as a tongue pokes out from between sharp teeth. You follow his tattoos up to his jaw, and seeâ
âA monster,â someone murmurs.
âa man.
Thereâs a strong jaw and a wide face, with cheekbones sitting high on his face. His nose stands tall, slightly ridged and strongly angled. A second pair of eyes, as crimson red as the first, sit half-slitted beneath the main pair. His hair, short and a shocking shade of cherry blossom pink, is deceptively sweet against the rest of his features. Most interestingly, something wooden and mask-like sits on the right side of his face where his features slope at a harsh, asymmetrical diagonal. His mouth is pulled taut against the skin. It must be where the nickname is from, that two-faced dichotomy; his face split between vaguely human familiarity and absolute, monstrous novelty. Itâs barely fathomable. Watching him scowl down at your crowd, itâs easy to see glimpses of the inhuman monster that everyone is so terrified of.
Youâve heard of the two-faced demon before. Heâs an infamous attraction, even if only for his grotesque appearance. There are rumours about having fought lions beforeâhe has, allegedly, once fought an elephant and wonâ-and each story is as ludicrous as it is widespread. You just hadnât expected that, if you squint, he could be considered handsome. Werenât such monstrous creatures meant to be hideous?
Ignorant to your inner dialogue, the two-faced demon crosses his bottom pair of arms tightly around his chest, muscles bulging with an unspoken threat. How incredible he is, to make such a simple movement seem so domineering. The showman continues. âDespite his fearsome appearance as a rampaging beast, he is incredibly docile!â Docile? âHe rarely speaks, is barely capable of following basic instruction, and acts entirely on his own whimsââ What part of that is docile? ââbut, rest assured, he is uninterested in harming others. His diet consists only of meatâwe have a raw cow being brought in at eight, should anyone want to witness his feedingââ he rattles off a price, and the two-faced demonâs scowl only deepens.
What a salesman. You could almost convince yourself this guy is trying to sell you an antique, rather than an exclusive experience to watch a man eat.Â
âAdding to his inhumane appearance, the two-faced demon is stronger than an ox, and can tear apart metal like a man does paperââ
âThen why doesnât he break out?â The words escape you before you can stop them. His captive audience turns, disturbed from their horrified trance; the showman looks somewhat displeased.
âWhat did you say, dear viewer?â
âYou said he can tear apart metal, but heâs in a wooden caravan with metal bars. Why doesnât he break out, if heâs so strong?â
The man scowls, displeased by your break in immersion. âDidnât you hear me? Heâs uninterested in harming others.â
âBut isnât he a rampaging beast?â
âA rampaging beast can rampage all he likes, if heâs too lazy to think his way out of a wooden box.â Still, the people around you look uneasy. Someone edges away. Even to you the logic is barely nebulous, ridiculously flimsy at best. Why would that matter, if he can tear through metal so simply? It just doesnât make sense. The two-faced demon, the allegedly unknowing topic of your conversation, lounges backwards, top pair of eyes flitting close. The bottom pair, that blazing inhumanity, peek open; for some unfathomable reason, as the showman faultingly continues his monologue, they remain trained on you.
II.
You donât see the two-faced demon for another two weeks after joining the troupe. He is, you learn, eternally locked within that small caravan; he eats there, he sleeps there, he pisses in a bucket and has someone else toss out the waste. The curtains are constantly closedâso as to not scare the other circus members, the showman, Haruta, tells youâand the caravan is silent, except for those few sickening minutes each night where he tears into the raw flesh of an animal and its dying squeals echo.
So, when he calls out to you, fresh from a few hours of practice, you find yourself a little surprised.
âYou.âÂ
The sound is raspy from disuse, low and rumbling from deep in the chest. Itâs not a voice youâve ever heard before, for all it immediately sends warmth to your face, so you really canât be blamed for your response of:
âMe?â You echo dumbly.Â
You turn to see the two-faced demon locked in his caravan. For once, the curtains are open. He lounges languidly in his cage, head resting against his palm as he braces his elbow against the wall. In the light of day, his inhumanities are both sharpened and softened; the sun lifts the veil of his sinister appearance, at once lessening the horror and throwing the details into brutal relief. Your eyes linger on his stomach mouth for a moment, before returning to the four eyes glaring sharply down at you.
âYes, you.â He says, his voice sharp. âI saw you.â
âI imagine you see a lot of people, considering our profession.â
He sneers. âInsolent woman.â Which⊠okay? Youâre not sure what he was expecting, approaching you like that; youâre not sure he even knows how he wanted you to react, based on the way his scowl only deepens. Maybe itâs some leftover aggression for all that lion-killing he used to allegedly perform. âYou were there when that foolish peacock was displaying me.â
Foolish peacockâ? Ah. Haruta. âI didnât realise I left such an impression.â
âHm.â He leans forward, grinning with both mouths. His canines are frighteningly sharp. âBring me some food.â
You blink. âNo. Thatâs not under my jurisdiction.â
âThere is no jurisdiction for who brings me my meals.â
Your brows furrow as you shoot him a disbelieving look. âYes, there is. Uraume delegates it to someone at the start of every week. I canât just disrupt someone elseâs tasks.â
âThat peacock of a showman said it himself, didnât he? I feast on the weak. Bring me my meal, or Iâll feast my hunger elsewhere.â He leers at you, more ravenous than covetous. It doesnât feel like desire. For a moment, you feel like nothing more than the sack of meat you must appear asâskin and meat and blood and bone, packaged beneath a pretty face and shielding a beating heart. Nothing more than a single meal to quench an endless thirst.Â
âThat peacock,â you stress his nickname for Haruta, âalso said you barely spoke and were assuredly docile. How am I to know whether or not thatâs another exaggeration among many?â
âMy existence is no exaggeration.â You hum in demeaning acquiescence. The two-faced demon growls. âWhatâs your name, woman?â
What a non-sequitor. You look at him, features carefully blank in the face of his inhumanity. His nails are frighteningly sharp, you notice suddenly. Sharper than they have any right to be. Long and razor-thin, more akin to claws than fingernails. You tell him your name, slow and sure. âDo I get to learn your name in return?â
âWhat makes you think you have any right to it?â
Nothing could stop you from rolling your eyes. âOf course. What was I thinking?â Biting back further grumbling, you make to walk past his enclosure. âIâm sure your meal will be here shortly. Have a good day, demon.â
For all his gallivanting, he doesnât break out of his cage. He sits there in that imperious sprawl and scowls with all four eyes as he watches you leave. Maybe he really is domesticated; maybe he doesnât think the effort of catching you is worth the meagre meal. It doesnât matterâeither way, you move on unimpeded, while he stays rotting in that tiny caravan. His threat goes unfulfilled. So much for the privilege of his name.
III.
The two-faced demon doesnât take up much of your attention after that. You are, for the most part, uninterested in your disfigured colleague. On the few occasions where he is allowed to see the sun (because, for some unfathomable reason, he refuses to either draw the curtains himself or request they be done so), he singles you out. You talk, he calls you an âinsolent womanâ or âfoolish performerâ or, on the one occasion you really annoyed him, âwayward maggotâ. Frustrated with him, you leave. A couple days pass, and the same event reoccurs.Â
Over these few encounters you learn a few things, both from him and others: no one knows his name. He speaks to no one, unless it is to demand food. He calls no one by their name, demeaning them as being too below him to know his, and him too above them to refer to them as anything other than insulting descriptors. He really did previously fight animals for show before his kill streak knocked too high, and everyone that witnessed it continues to live in paralysing fear over what he may do to them if he grows too bored. Their dramatics know no bounds.
You are perfectly happy with this routine of vague familiarity until you meet Uraume.
Despite being an aerialist, being a member of a travelling troupe means that everyone is often pitching in for odd jobs. Working as an aerialist doesnât mean you arenât helping with booths or applying the kids' show make-up or assisting Toji in feeding the animals. Likewise, Uraumeâs role as a performer doesnât prevent them from also being the best cook in the circus. With your odd jobs and their famed skill, it doesnât take long until youâre tasked with assisting them in the kitchen.
âLeave that for the two-faced demon.â
You jolt from where youâre leaning over the meat, reaching for a cut of steak. Uraumeâs expression, usually placid and slightly derisive, is underlined with an uncharacteristic anger; brows furrowed, lips twisting downwards, shoulders squared as they loom over you. You glance between them and the meat in question. âI thought that guy only ate live animalsâŠ?â
âHe did.â Their expression smooths out as you step back, grabbing a different cut. âHis tastes have changed since his reallocation.â
Reallocation? âI thought he was always there purely for hisâŠâ how to word this politely? â...cosmetic value.â
âDonât be ridiculous. Heâd never degrade himself in such a manner.â Isnât that exactly what heâs doing now? âHe used to work with the animals. Once per location, after the animal tamer performed, he would appear and fight a predatorâlions, most oftenâfor show. It was always the most anticipated event of the circus. The animals were, unsurprisingly, no match for the two-faced demon, but the display of his strength was notable all the same.â
Fascinating. Maybe those muscles arenât all for show. You decide to ignore the concept that he was apparently so strong that lions were unable to beat himâlegendary as those stories are, youâd always considered them mere stories. Itâs discomforting to know thereâs more truth to them than you previously assumed. âThen whyâd he stop doing it?â
They level you with a dispassionate look. âThey couldnât keep up with him. He kept killing them. The law decided to prohibit his actions, but their attempts at restraining him led to the previous animal tamer meeting a⊠sudden end.â
âIs that why everyone is so scared of him?â
âTheyâre scared of him because they should be.â Uraume clears their throat. âAfter that debacle, they banned him from fighting in the circus. Heâs decided to simply remain a viewing attraction, and abides by their drivel as long as he is sufficiently provided for.â
âEven after killing a worker?â
âEven after eating a worker.â
You blink in muted surprise. You donât know why youâre shocked, given the nature of his threats and the way people act around him, but eating someone? You canât fathom it. The two-faced demon, for all his bluster, is notably tame. âHe mustâve been an amazing fighter, for the circus to have kept him after that.â
Uraume turns to you, uncharacteristically passionate. Their next words come out slightly breathless. âHe was magnificent.â
And, well, thatâs that. Uraume says no more on the topic, even as they continue their tasks with a quiet joy. Youâve never seen them as happy as they are now, as if the mere thought of the two-faced demon is enough to brighten their spirit. Huh. Youâre beginning to get the feeling that he maybe really is that awe-inspiring, considering the various dramatics of your fellow circus performers.
Maybe thatâs why, when Uraume hands you a massive steak so lightly cooked you can imagine its heart is still beating, you donât deny their request to deliver it to the two-faced demon. Instead, you take the heavy mealâwhich, seriously? This portion size could feed at least six peopleâand bring it to that ever shielded caravan.
âKnock on the door before you enter,â Uraume tells you as you leave. âHe wonât attack you or try to escape. Pay him the decency he deserves, given his illustrious nature.â
You donât exactly take it into account. Rather, what you do is call âDinnerâs ready!â as you near the caravan, knocking at the door with one foot as you hold theâfrankly massiveâplate with both hands. âOpen the door.â
âOpen it yourself.â
Your eye twitches. Must this man be such a contrarian? âMy apologies. What I meant to say is, I am unable to open the doorâeither open it for me, or continue on without your dinner. Itâs no concern to me.â
A growl sounds, then the low creak of movement. Heâs awfully quiet for such a large man, but even then, the caravan creaks and sinks with every step of his massive weight. The door opens with a harsh lurch, and you are abruptly the closest youâve ever been to his monstrous form. This close, a mere half-meter separating you, his eyes are impossibly large, impossibly red; his cherry blossom hair an even softer pink than you initially conceived. Bizarrely, you find yourself almost wanting to touch it. Even the scar you first noticed seems more like a mask this close for how raised and shapely it is; yet his malformed eyes blink lazily at you in a way no puppetry could emulate.
How sickening, you think, fascinated.
âWell?â He says mockingly. âServe me my dinner.â
He disappears back into his trailer. Itâs honestly impressive that he even manages itâthe trailer couldnât be more than 5 meters by half; somehow, he turns it into a chasm. âIâll leave it withââ
âServe me.â
How frustrating. âIf I must.â You keep your tone perfectly neutral, stepping into the darkness of his abode. Itâs as discomfortingly small as you imagined. You donât know how he manages to lounge so broadly and still look as though he has room to move; a well-practiced artifice, though you donât know why he tolerates it. The man that could beat a lion in a fair fight, wasting away in a cage even smaller than the predators. You would laugh, if you didnât think he would eat you for the mockery.Â
You lay the plate out on the floor before him. The two-faced demon licks over his teeth with his too-long tongue. âSit with me.â
âPardon?â
âDonât tell me youâre even stupider than you look. Sit.â His voice is a rumbling growl. You sit, stumbling awkwardly until youâre on the floor of the caravan, legs tucked beneath you. Sitting like this, he looms over you as a carnivorous shadow; thereâs no illusion of even footing. He watches you for a moment, expression bored and impassive, before leaning his head down and taking a bite of his steak. Blood streams from the bite.
His hunger is voracious. He tears into the beef with abandon, uncaring of his audience and greedy in his hunger. He tears through the meat as if it were butter, cleaving through it with a single grind of his jaw. Itâs horrifying. Itâs beautiful, in a way, as if for a moment his appetite makes him something both more and less than human. His top pair of eyes shut in something akin to delight, but his bottom pair remain fixed on you. Youâre paralysed by his stare; his hunger; the monstrous strength of his jaw; the awful sharpness of his teeth.
âYouâre unafraid of me.â
You jolt, eyes tearing from his pinning gaze to land on his mouth, brows furrowed. Your gaze darts further down, and the mouth on his stomach stretches into a leering grin. Itâs disconcerting, so out of place; you didnât realise that mouth was capable of anything more than aesthetic disfigurement. His face-mouth swallows, taking another monstrous bite of meat. âOh? Is this all it takes to frighten you?â
Your expression briefly drops into a scowl. âWhy would I be?â
âStories of my feats couldnât have dissipated so quickly,â he scorns. âYou have good reason to be scared.â
âUraume was very flattering,â you concede. âBut as far as Iâm concerned, youâve done nothing but sit here, leer, and make the occasional threat for the entire time Iâve been employed. Why should I be scared when youâve taken no action against me?â
Itâs a blatant goad, not that you mean it as one. If the two-faced demon is as thoughtlessly savage as Haruta claims, he would no doubt jump on it; grab you, loom over you, and laugh as your life is balanced in the claws of his mercy. He does not. It speaks to his inaction; he truly mustâve become domesticated.
âDo you take me for a beast?â He asks, his lip curling. âYouâve simply done nothing to anger me yet.â
âIf I havenât angered you, then I have no need to be scared.â
âHm.â He takes another bite of his food, leaning forward until one arm rests on his knee, propping up his head. It moves him closer to you, impossibly large despite his hunched posture. Itâs grotesque, how he manages to swallow down such a sizable slab of raw meat in so few bites. He swallows languidly, bringing the plate to his torso, and has his stomach mouth lick the leftover blood off the ceramic. When he stretches his arm out, glistening plateâseriously, grossâoutstretched, you take it as your cue to leave.
Of course, you donât even get to touch the plate before his other arm snatches yours, dragging you a step closer as his hand creates a bruising shackle around your wrist. His lip curls into a smiling snarl.
âOw,â you say belatedly. You hadnât expected it to hurt, for your bones to creak like a rotting frame beneath the pressure. Stillâis that it? A man that felled lions, resorting to squeezing your wrist a little? Are you supposed to feel threatened?
He stares at you, expression placid. The two-faced demon is threatening you. But for what? Because youâre not scared of him? How is this supposed to make you any more frightened? You level him with a (very minor, unintentional) challenge, and he responds by giving you a bruised wrist. It doesnât inspire fear like he expects his man-eating habits to. You stare back at him, unimpressed, and lightly tug your wrist out of his grasp. He doesnât let go.
Rather, he sneers. âWas that pathetic tug all you could conjure?â
You roll your eyes. âCould you let go of me?â Then, to be polite; âPlease? I still have tasks left to complete.â
âIs that all youâre worried about?â
âYes.â Kenjaku will have your head if you donât complete everything in time. He really is so frustratingly particular. In fact, now that you think of it, you think youâd prefer death by the two-faced demon before risking Kenjakuâs disappointmentâMahito might get away with being a brat, but you? He doesnât care half as much about you, nor do you bring in enough money for him to justify anything but extreme consequences to minor offences. Maybe, if the demon holds you here long enough, you should suggest your death to him; surely, heâll accept a freely offered meal?
The grip on your hand spasms, tightening so quickly a blinding bolt shoots up your arm, and then abruptly lets go. âHopeless,â he growls. âA pathetic little maggot, unaffected by a predator. Your foolishness will kill you.â
âThis is a circus, not the wild.â You say blandly. Doesnât that prove your point, anyway? Why would a caged lion kill a maggot? Itâd sooner save its own skin escaping before it considered eating the prey of its prey. He really is dramatic, jumping to these exaggerated threats.
You scoop the plate off the floor, shaking your wrist like thatâll ease the bone-deep ache. Sending him one last look as you leaveâa glance at this thoughtless, self-captive predator, who lets people think he canât break out through bars when he can easily open the doorâyou roll your eyes once more. âHave a good night, demon.â
(Sukuna lets your arm go, watching you through abruptly lidded eyes. You donât retreat. It took him a moment to realise, but he understands nowâyouâre not frozen out of fear, or resolute in a need to prove yourself unafraid of him. Youâre simply not, staring back at him with those heavy, thoughtful eyes. Youâre sedate. It strikes him, with a feeling both raging and delighted, that you arenât unafraid; no, you donât care. He could tear you apart with a single bite, unhinge his jaw and clamp down on your hand and rend your fingers from your palm, tear your flesh straight from the bone, and you donât care for the threat.
Your hand flexes idly as if you had stiff joints in need of loosening, unaware of his hunger. Or, maybe, you are awareâyou just simply donât care enough to be scared. It lights a fire in his stomach; for the first time in a long, long time, he wants. He wants ravenously; he wants your blood in his mouth, your eyes pickled in a jar, your heart puncturing between his teeth, your bones a broth to flavour his soup.Â
His mouth waters at the thought. You make him so hungry.Â
But, more than anything, Sukuna wants to see you scared.)
IV.
âI hear you and the two-faced demon have struck up a friendship.â
Damn this circus and its unending gossip mill. You turn to Yorozu, who has taken the seat at the table beside you and is now grabbing whatever food is within reach. âTo categorise it as âfriendshipâ is a generous stretch of the word.â
âIf he hasnât threatened to eat you, youâre practically soulmates.â She pops a bite of food into her mouth, peeking one eye open to look at you. âHas he threatened to eat you?â
âYes.â
âDamn.â She almost looks jealous. âAnd youâre not scared?â
âI didnât think it was worth mentioning.â Youâre sure Yorozu has heard a dozen of the same story from a dozen different people; itâs not something you felt the need to contribute to. How is your encounter with him any more poignant than anyone else's? âHe only threatened it. Itâs not as if he went through with the threat.â
âAnd youâre⊠okay with that?â
âIt was an empty threat. Why would I be concerned?â
She sends you a queer look. âYouâre a weird girl. You know he used to kill lions, right? Once, he tore the leg off of one while it was still fighting. Barely broke a sweat doing it, too. It was beautiful, really. You shouldâve seen the way heââ
You stare at her blankly. âUraume told me.â
âIsnât he just terrifying?â She swoons as she says it. âYou werenât there for it, but he ate one of the workers once.â Then, as if sheâd just commented on the morning weather, Yorozu pops another bite into her mouth. âThe guy couldnât even fight back, it was so quick. That demon, heâ he didnât even laugh. Said the fight was too easy for him to get any pleasure out of it.â
âUraume also told me that,â you say pleasantly. âBe that as it may, he just lounges around nowadays.â
âHe only lounges around âcause he doesnât see any point in killing us. Doesnât think weâd be worth the effort,â she manages to look somewhat offended as she says it. âBesides, heâs happy as long as heâs given some poor lamb to tear apart every few days. We were all surprised when he became so languidâI mean, heâs such a monster. What kind of freak can kill a lion bare-handed? It feels like Kenjaku is dancing with the devil somedays, keeping him around. Not that I can blame him.â
âHe hasnât hurt anyone since though, has he?â
âWhat?â She shoots you an incredulous look. âI just said he ate someone.â You roll your eyes. âWhatâs with that look?â
âI just think youâre blowing things out of proportion. Thatâs all.â
V.
It's hard to wrap your mind around the entirety of the threat that is the two-faced demon. Sure, youâve heard plenty about his lion-fighting, man-eating days, but it means nothing in the face of his complacency. A part of you acknowledges that heâs strongâthe encounter the other day proves thatâbut even then, it failed to spark fear in you. He just⊠was.Â
So what if he could eat you if he isnât going to follow up on it? When it comes down to it, anyone could kill you. He may be horrifically strong and monstrous in appearance, but he seemed more prone to idle threats than violent execution. Even the ring of bruises, once a dark brand on your wrist, has mellowed out to a discomforting yellow.
The lamb between his jaws squeals as he bites down, slicing through bone in a single bite. Upon being told to deliver a live lamb to the two-faced demon, youâd been faced with immediate disgust; heâs all-consuming and ravenous as is, so why must you witness a further indulgence? Itâs every bit as grotesque as you imagined. He makes no play of it, tearing it apart while it heaves and dies, trapping it within the chasm of his jaw. What fun could he possibly contrive out of the gruesome act?
âWhy did you talk to me?â You ask suddenly.Â
After all, didnât Yorozu say it herself? The only reason the two-faced demon hasnât broken out of his poorly crafted caravan and eaten another man is because he doesnât see the point in doing so. What is there for you to fear? He canât even be bothered to break out of his cage. Youâre certainly not worth the effort.Â
Still, you thinkâhe doesnât do anything he doesnât think worth doing. He clearly sees some value in eating a live animal, unfathomable as it is to you. He sees a point in demanding the best steaks the circus can conjure. Youâve begun to understand that aspect of his character. He does only what he wants, and indulges no further. So, as it stands, why does he bother himself with you?
âI wanted to.â the two-faced demon stares at you dispassionately. âI wanted to, so I did. Do I need any other reason?â
âYou donât want to do anything,â you counter levelly.
âI want plenty of things.â Your mouth twitches at his words, a small glimpse at your inner amusement. His eyes narrow in on your expression. âYou presume to know me better than I know myself?â
âOf course not. You just donât act on any of your wants, do you?â
âI do. How else could I have ended up in the situation I am now?âÂ
Isnât it obvious? He was born malformed, and taken in as a circus freak due to a lack of other opportunities; entranced by his beastial nature, they forced him to fight animals until he became too much of a danger; following that, he became little more than an aesthetic attraction, confined to his small cage. Sure, there was a case of cannibalism, and maybe a couple of threats, but most of whatâs happened to him has, in fact, happened to him. Itâs not as if he needed to do much to ensure the order of events.
âYouâre more of a fool than I thought, if you truly think that.â
âYou are more of a fool than I imagined, if you think I canâtâand donâtâtake what I want.â
Oh, please. âDo you truly believe that? Youâve forgotten how to want. You sit here in this cage, demanding things come to you. You donât do anything for yourselfâyouâre so content, having it handed to you. Is there anything you truly want? Anything youâll ever desire that canât be handed to you that youâll still have the grasp to reach for?âÂ
âI tire of your hypocrisy,â he growls. âYou accuse me of idleness, when you subsist solely on ambivalence; there is nothing in this world you want. Youâre closer to a monk than a woman.â
âWe are not the same in that regard.â
âWeâre more similar than you think,â he says, his voice thick with something. âYou talk so much nonsense about desire and inaction. Havenât you ever wanted to be something more than a sack of meat?â Heâs awfully entertained by his own words; when the two-faced demon stretches out a hand, a raw chunk of lamb dangling between his fingers, you think you begin to understand. âCome. Feast on the lesser. Or have you not learned to want yourself?â
You swallow. âYou think yourself better than everyone else here?â
âIâm the strongest, arenât I? The weak bend to my will. They conform to my wants. Itâs the way of life.â
âThat sounds like a very overdressed excuse for a lazy man,â you say as if youâre demurring to him. You canât tell if heâs delighted or incensed by your tone. âYouâre strong, so you do nothing for yourself? Theyâre weak, so your life is assured? Youâre so complacent, so unaware. Your arrogance is astounding.â
âThat sounds like an awful lot of drivel to excuse your own inadequacies,â he sneers. âI suppose you are nothing more than a writhing maggot, afterââ
You take a bite of the lamb.
More accurately, you lean forward; take hold of his thick wrist; drag the meat between your teeth and force your jaw shut until your teeth, blunt and weak, have no choice but to dig into the warm flesh. Blood pools in your mouth as you work your jaw, forcing a bite from the bone; where the two-faced demon cleaved through it like a hand through water, youâre left with a harsh ache in your jaw. Itâs raw and vile, heavy on your tongue as blood gathers thickly in your mouth. In that moment, with a warm carcass partially sitting on your tongue and blood spilling from between your lips, you feel more animal than humanâyou arenât an aerialist or a man or a thinking being, but a thing of raw instinct. Your brain insists you chew, and your frustrating humanity impedes your actions. Oh, why canât your teeth slough through this meat like his? Why must they be so woefully inadequate?
The two-faced demon laughs at your expression. Itâs a deep rumble from low in his chest, coming out closer to an animal's growl; his mouth splits open, impossibly wide, and he pulls you into a kiss.
Heâs big. His mouth is large enough to eclipse your own two-fold, lips rough and chapped whilst his teeth are frighteningly sharp. His tongue bullies its way into your mouth, wet with blood and stinking of iron. And his eyesâhis eyes. His eyes are that of a watchful predator, lazily lidded and staring at you with single-minded intent. All four, lasered in on you. The wet slide of your tongues set your cheeks on fire, so caught in the feeling of his hand moving to twine in your hair, pulling taut until your scalp screams beneath his grip, that you donât realise what heâs doing until he pulls away.
A low moan escapes you as youâre left suspended there, head pulled back and neck bare for his perusal. His mouth parts on another bloody, gruesome smile, and it's only then that you realise the lamb once between your teeth is now trapped in his, its larger carcass tossed aside. The bite is comically small in his mouth as his tongue curls around it, swallowing it down without a single bite of his own. You stare after it, almost mournfulâyou practically broke your jaw working your teeth through its flesh, and it was stolen just like that?
Wait, why do you care? You didnât want to eat it to begin with, did you?
âWhat a monstrous look you have there,â he sneers, even as satisfaction leaks from every inch of his being.
âI worked hard for that,â you say. âI donât have your carnivorous teeth, demon.â
His mouth spreads wider. You remain caught, his hand in your hair tight enough to have tears prickling at your lash line. Another hand moves to grab the lamb back up, as if content to leave you trapped by the hair whilst he continues to feast on his meal. That selfish, lazy bastard! He can kiss you, take the food from your mouth, and then continue to eat as if nothing happened? As if youâre not a trapped fish in his hook?
âAllow me to remedy that,â he says, voice pleasant yet sinister from his stomach mouth as his face is occupied with another bite of lamb. He chews once, twice, thrice; then he leans in once more.
Youâre startlingly aware of the meat as his tongue crawls into your mouth. He forces his way past your lips, jaw unhinging until you can feel his teeth bite into your cheek. Itâs gross. Itâs so unsexy. Somehow, with a hand at your head and his mouth eclipsing the bottom half of your face, youâre the hottest youâve ever been. He forces the lamb past your lips, holding you in place as he deposits it half-chewed on your tongue. His mouth retreats for only just long enough for you to swallow, your throat bobbing around the uncooperative bite, before he leans in once more.
âDonât talk to me about desire,â he says, the sound of his stomach-mouth a rumbling growl. He bites at your lip, canines digging dangerously, threatening to pierce skin, and an airy sigh escapes you. âYouâre too caught up in your humanity to even conceptualise what you truly crave. I, at least, know what I want.â
VI.
You hate to admit it, but his words follow you. Something about itâweâre more similar than you thinkâclings to you; you think about it while youâre training, while youâre cooking, while youâre delivering his meals and watching him eat. What does he want? you think, watching him tear through a live lamb. What did he mean by that? then, as he pops its head off with a single twist, what do you want?
He doesnât kiss you again. Somehow, that feels all the more damning.Â
Did you not prove yourself to him? Show him what he wanted to see? You ate a raw lamb, for goodness sake, kissed it half-chewed out of his mouth with no regard for how gross it was in the moment. Heâd made youâ youâd feltâ youâd thoughtâ
You purse your lips, turning sharply on your heel. What a ridiculous line of thinking youâd started meandering down; youâd shown him? Proven yourself? You wonât kid yourselfâyou enjoyed that far more than you logically should. It had sent a perverse thrill down your spine, suffocating on his tongue and indulging in a blood-soaked kiss. He hadnât forced you to do anything. Heâd offered you the slightest encouragement and youâd wanted it all on your own.Â
That thought is what draws you back to his caravan, where heâs once more engaging a crowd. People wave at you as you pass, taken in by your costumeâand no doubt excited for your showâbut you pay them no mind, suddenly caught up in your thoughts.
Youâre not sure why such a prideful being is so content being gawked at and paraded around like little more than a show animal, or how he can consider himself so far above others yet be content with a life of ridicule. You suddenly, desperately, want to watch it once more; to see if thereâs something there that you missed the first time.
Haruta is caught in his own theatrics as you approach, monologuing loudly to the gathered crowd. "The two-faced demon is a beast more monster than human, with an appetite so ravenous he couldn't be matched by a dozen lions! He ate his own twin in the womb, killed his mother chewing his way out of her stomach, is a scourge on men and women alike! He feasts on women and children; is beholden to no God; he is an abomination made real; a bane to all that is justâŠ"
It's the exact same speech as the last time you watched this, you realise. The same speech recycled for a second audience. Haruta continues, "Look upon him as he feasts! Of course, this mere calf does nothing to sate the appetite of a monster that prefers to glut on man, but witness how he tears into his meal! Watch the disgusting voracity of his appetite!â
The two-faced demon is not eating like a ravenous animal. Heâs far calmer with an audience. Rather than that steadfast, all-encompassing hunger as meat is swallowed in mammoth-like mouthfuls between a strong, grasping jaw, he eats with a casual disregard. Polite, slow, uninterestedâmore like a lounging cat than the predatory creature he fashions himself as.
What a hypocrite. The thought is almost fond. To let himself be carted around like a beast publicly, yet studiously consume a mannered meal as if he isnât ravenous in private. Itâs almost charming to know he lied so boldly to your face.
âHe doesnât seem that aggressive today,â you say conversationally as you approach Haruta. âI thought people had to pay an extra fee to watch him eat, anyway?â
Haruta deflates, turning to you with a bitter whisper. âKenjaku tossed the idea. Apparently heâs not beastly enough for the extra costs. Can you believe that? As if heâs not disgusting when he eats regularly.â
The demonâs eyes, previously focused on the meal, dart over to meet yoursâjust the bottom pair, like heâs playing at being coy. He blinks leisurely, savouring the bite in his mouth as he watches you. How cute.
âMaybe he doesnât see it worthwhile to upkeep manners around us,â you comment, bemused.
âNo, heâs doing it to spite me. I know it. Kenjaku said I could take 2% of the salesââ only 2%? ââwith the private meal showings, since I came up with the idea, and then overnight that beast developed manners. I donât know why we havenât slaughtered the thing already.â
That does sound like him.
âOh, really?â You say with faux-surprise. âHeâs perfectly mannered whenever Iâm serving his meals.â
The demon snorts, a loud huff that has a kid sticking his hand through the caravans bars (much to his mother's despair) falling back with a horrified wail. Haruta looks beyond disbelieving. âReally?â
Obviously not. You disregard his comment altogether. âWhen does the showing end? Iâd like to talk to him.â
âNow,â the demon cuts in sharply, placing down his half-eaten calf with a dull thud. âPeacock. Close my curtains.â
Haruta squawks; someone in the audience boos loudly. Seriously? Whatâs so interesting about watching him eat? You think back on that night a couple weeks ago; the cord of his neck, the monstrous strength of his jaw, his razor sharp teeth, his methodical, unwasting hungerâ
âwho are you kidding? You probably got twice the perverse enjoyment out of watching him than everyone in the crowd combined.
âYou canât just close your own exhibit,â Haruta protests, a whine edging his voice. âPeople paid to see this, you canât just sayââ
The two-faced demon bares his teeth in a vague approximation of a smile.
Haruta really is a coward; a single flash of those animalistic teeth, and heâs scurrying like a rat to herd people away. Clearly not thinking heâs going fast enough, the demon reaches for the bars. One ominous creak, the slightest bend of metal, and Haruta yelps like heâs personally being attacked.
It doesnât take long for Haruta to clear the area of disgruntled viewers.
âWoman,â he says finally, once the both of you are alone.
âSo demeaning,â you mutter. âWould it hurt to call me by my name, for once?â
He ignores you. âWhat is it?â
You, in turn, ignore himâwho said you werenât prone to a little pettiness? âDid you need to go through all of that fanfare? You couldâve just used the door.â He has used the door, in fact, many timesâwith the monstrous size of his meals, youâve grown very used to demanding he clear the entrance into his caravan. If heâs going to be a lazy bastard, he might as well be a well-mannered one.
âUsing the door wouldnât have been half as effective. Let them see me as the brute I am. It only benefits me.â
âThe brute you are? But you were so polite with your meal.âÂ
âWhat?â
âYour dinner,â you repeat softly. âIf it truly didnât bother you, why were you so polite in front of the audience? Clearly, thereâs something about being seen as some ravenous monster that displeases you.â
He regards you placidly. âI did not want him to make a mockery of me, so I didnât allow it.â
You hum in acquiescence. âAnd here I thought you were perfectly content in your position.â
âIâm certainly more at ease than you are, woman.â Itâs uncharacteristically defensive. You find yourself tempted to press. You almost do, until you recall that flash of teeth; the warm, weeping flesh being shoved down your throat and chased by a hot, large tongue. Your cheeks burn, and you say nothing. âWhy are you here?â
âBecause I wanted to be.â
âThat doesnât answer my question. Why are you here?â
Your lips tug on a smile. Itâs cathartic to throw his own words back in his face; âDidnât I? Iâm here because I want to be. Thereâs nowhere that attracts my attention more, so thereâs nowhere else to be.â
He leans backwards. If you had any more of an ego about you, youâd say he looks pleased. âAt the circus. Why are you with the circus?â
What a simple question. Isnât it obvious? You love it here; maybe not the people, bar the infuriating man before you, but certainly everything else. The work, the routine, the performance, the audienceâitâs an addictive concoction. For once, you can live as you please and be rewarded for it; you can pursue your own passion, and the only consequence is the roaring applause of an enamoured crowd. Itâs perfect.
Hm. Maybe his words have some merit after all. âBecause here, I can do what I want to. Isnât that enough?â
âSo you do have something you desire.â
You batter away that wayward memory once more. âNo. I already have what I want. Iâll have it for as long as Iâm here.â You glance at him sideways, uncharacteristically sly. âMaybe I should be asking you that. This is a bit targeted, donât you think?â
âIâm simply returning the favour from our previous encounters.â His eyes glimmer with⊠something. You canât tell what, from so far away. âThere must be some reason you stick around. It was almost beginning to seem like it was me.â
âDonât flatter yourself too much.â You consider him, and a question calls to you from the back of your mouth. Given your prior presumptuousness, you have no qualms asking itâheâs indulged your curiosity every time before now, and itâs made you a glutton for your own non-sequitors. âWhy donât you ever leave? The circus, I mean.â
âWhy would I?â He leans backwards on a stretch, straightening his spine and revealing a glimpse of his monstrous size. His shadow doubles, his eyes flash; for a moment, he looks closer to a monster than he does a human. Even having felt it, having traced it with your tongue, you contemplate the idea of him having fangs hidden in that large mouth; teeth like a lion or a wolf, a further deviance from humanity. âI eat when I want to eat, and I play when I want to play. Iâm pampered as I please, and have no need to do anything but exactly what I want to do. If I wished for it, I could waste time this way until the day I die.â
You donât say but what point is there in living?, because you know that argument holds no interest for him. By now, you have a pretty good grasp on what heâd sayâbecause I want to, maybe, or because I donât yet desire death, if heâs feeling more verbose.Â
You huff a laugh. âBe proactive for once, demon. At the rate youâre going, I imagine Iâll never see you out of that cage. Is there truly nothing worth leaving it?â
VII.
There is no greater thrill than that of performing. You werenât lying when you told the two-faced demon that you joined the circus simply because you wanted toâyou love it. Thereâs a thrill that comes with being an aerialist, swinging through the air on nothing more than threads of silk and listening to the audience awe over your manoeuvres. It makes the practice worthwhile, makes everything worthwhile; why wouldnât you have run off to join the circus when you are lauded for your talents here? When youâre surrounded by such curious personalities? You are, for once in your life, encouraged to pursue your talents as an aerialist. Despite the many flaws of the ringmaster, his accepting you into his employ has made it so you can never resent him.
Itâs while youâre in the air that you see it, your heart thudding in your chest and breath straining your lungsâ-a monstrous, hulking shadow in the back of the crowd.
The two-faced demon?
It's a well-grained routine that prevents you from fumbling. You keep an eye on that monstrous presence, though, and know for certain that it's him. Heâs wearing a robe youâve never seen before, bottom arms veiled by its sweeping sleeves while his top pair are crossed in front of his chest, peeking out from the deep plunge of the neckline. His four eyes seem to glow in the dark, head cocked slightly to the side. No one else seems to have noticed him, but you canât help but wonder; why is he here?Â
His eyes, trained on you, flash with recognition. Mouth pulling into a mocking smile, he bares his teeth at you and slips between the curtain, escaping outside.Â
What the hell?
Your heart thuds in your chest for the rest of your performance, the soothing silks you dance through suddenly chafing and restrictive; knowing he was watching, that the two-faced demon has left his cage, leaves your breath caught in your throat. By the time your routine is over and youâre dancing off the stage to make room for the next performer, you feel both hot and cold at once. You canât help itâwhy is he doing this? What does he want?
Yorozu calls your name as youâre slipping out of the tent, features twisted in a complicated expression. âThe two-faced demon got out,â she says simply, pulling you close to whisper it in your ear. âWe donât know where, but everyoneâs freaking outâthey think it might be likeââ she cuts herself off, glancing around.
Your mind fills in the blanksâlike the animal tamer. That unnamed man, made a victim at the mercy of the demonâs mercurial moods.
âI justâŠâ Yorozu sighs, as if in genuine mourning. âWhy didnât he come to me?â
Is she serious? âDo you have any idea where he could be?â
She shakes her head. âKenjaku wants us to keep an eye out for him. He doesnât want that demon attacking any visitors. Even if it would be within his rightsâŠâ
You ignore her muttered comment. âHe hasnât hurt anyone, has he?â It doesnât come out like a question; no, it feels certain. Why would he? The two-faced demon is someone ruled by his own desires, comfortable in the precedent he has set forth. He doesnât desire to eat or attack people when food to play with can simply be given to him. So, what is so important that heâd bother with these theatrics? That heâd actually bother to take action?
âNot that we know of. Itâs only a matter of time, of course. Such a magnificent man wouldnâtâhey!â
You brush past her.Â
Curse your damned mouth. This is almost certainly your fault. What was the last thing you said to him? At the rate youâre going, I imagine Iâll never see you out of that cage. Is there truly nothing worth leaving it? Youâre too goading, too proud, too ignorantly overt. It seems there is, after all, something worth the effort. Bless whoever is made victim to his whims now.
In true theatricism, the metal of his caravan is warped and misshapen as you walk past it. Completely unnecessary, when the man can simply use the door. Somehow, it looks even smaller without him in it; youâd have thought that his leering, monstrous presence wouldâve done the opposite.Â
Youâd also think that the sheer mass of him would make him a little easier to spot. Yet, as youâre nearing the caravan you call home, youâre tugged suddenly and slammed against a wall.
A hand covers your mouth before you can scream.
You glance up at his looming form, frozen for a second in the shadow of his embrace. Two of his arms settle at your waist, unexpectedly tender as he massages his thumbs against your stomach. You are, of course, immediately distracted by the tongue bullying at your lips even as his hand continues to sit over your mouth.
He can do that!?
A muffled yelp escapes you, eyes blown wide. A cat-like satisfaction dawns on his face as he parts your mouth, tongue delving past your teeth and twining with your own. Itâs so weird. Itâs gross; uncomfortable; so, so disturbing you want to gag around his tongue. You donât, cheeks burning as your hands grapple against his arms, nails digging into the skin of his biceps.
âThere you are,â he murmurs, a smug smile curling at his lips. âI was looking for you.â
Oh, god. His palm pushes uncomfortably closer, and a dull ache begins to bloom as his fingers dig into the flesh of your cheeks. His fourth arm, unimpeded, cups your neck, bracing your head as he leans further into you. You crane at an uncomfortable angle, throat discomfortingly vulnerable as you stretch the full length of your neck.
Your nails leave pink-streaked divots in his skin, one hand fumbling for his palm to tug it away from your mouth. It shouldnât shock you to realise that heâs letting you; that your individual strength is so incomparable to him, every action you take is a concession he allows. It shouldnât have heat gathering in your stomach, pooling southward. âDemonââ
âSukuna,â he rasps.Â
Your brows furrow, momentarily thrown. âPardon?â
âSukuna,â he repeats slowly. âThatâs my name. If I hear a whisper of it from any mouth other than yours, Iâll tear off your head and eat you whole.â
Somehow, you donât doubt it. You cock your head to the side, evaluating him thoughtfully. Sukuna, with shockingly soft pink hair and hateful red eyes. Sukuna, whose name quite literally means âdemonâ or âcalamityâ. You wonder how his mother had the time to name him, if he truly ate his way out of her stomach. Did she pick it in advance, knowing what awaited her? Was her death slow, giving her just enough time to depart him with such a curse? Or are his mythic origins another blatant fabrication, the name bestowed upon him by another? âSukuna, huh? It suits you.â
Itâs almost funny to realise that you have, in a way, been calling him by his name all along.
âSo Iâve been told.â
You huff. âSukuna. What are you doing?â
âIsnât it obvious? Iâm taking what I want.â
âDonât be obtuse.â It doesnât sound half as chiding as it should, when youâre still recovering from being kissed breathless with his hand mouth, for all that it sounds absolutely ludicrous. âYou left your caravan.â
âHavenât you spent weeks goading me to?â He leans in so close that your noses brush, a colossal shadow hiding you away from the rest of the world. Leaning over you like this, heâs all-encompassingâa being of bestial passion, the likes of which Yorozu whimsically dreams of. âDonât make such demands of me, if youâre unwilling to shoulder the consequences.â He says it as a growl and a tease at once.
Insufferable. âDonât put words in my mouth. You justââ you cut yourself off, glancing up at him through your lashes. He is just doing what youâve been all but begging him to for weeks. Taking what he wants. It at once sets a fire beneath your skin, a need to prove to him that you can do the same; youâre too caught up in your humanity to even conceptualise what you truly crave, heâd told you. Who gave him the right to make such an accusation?Â
âInfuriating,â you murmur, hands moving to run faint lines over the skin of his cheeksâone humanly smooth, the other monstrously rough. His lower pair of eyes flicker shut, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. âYou love to talk around what you want, donât you, Sukuna?â His name is a treasure on your tongue; you want to keep it there forever. Sukuna. Who else can claim to know that name? âTell me. What do you want from me?â
His thumbs rub circles into your waist. Yours streak patterns along his cheekbones, through wisps of cherry blossom pink hair. A grin, monstrously wide, begins to stretch across his large mouth.
âI was born hungry,â Sukuna tells you. âWith every passing day, Iâve wanted more than I have. Thereâs no craving I canât satisfy, and no satisfaction that truly curbs my craving.â He leans in closer, lips brushing against the edge of your mouth. âLikewise, everything Iâve wanted has been achievable through the use of others. Why fight for what I want, when others are so willing to give it to me?â
âYouâre talking around the point,â you chide. The words escape you breathlessly; in that same moment, he lifts you effortlessly, pressing you further against the caravan and twining your legs around his torso. His breath puffs against your face as he laughs. His head dips as he runs his rough tongue along the hinge where your neck meets your jaw, following it with the weighted press of his mouth.
âInfuriating,â he says, an echo of your own words. âInfer it for yourself, woman. I rarely need to be proactive about anything. I barely need to ask for anything, when it is handed to me without a request. And yet, an insufferable little maggot sits beside me while I eat, incessantly pestering me; what do you want? it asks me. You lazy beast, if you want me so bad, show me it. Iâve proven myself worth the effort, havenât I?â
You have said no such thing; how he inferred that from your own words, you donât know. Still, itâs difficult to argue when his mouth follows your neck downward, his lips stretching wide until those terrifyingly sharp teeth lay flush against your skin. An implicit threat lies in the action, in the horrific strength he wields, the unsaid vulnerability of your position.
Your pulse is a hummingbird; you are a hummingbird, paralysed beneath the weight of a predatorâs teeth at your throat, his claws at your nape. Youâre laid impossibly vulnerableâa single bite, and those teeth can kill you. One careless nick, and youâll be dead before you can scream. It almost shocks you to realise youâre scared. Oh, God, you donât want to die.
You flush, shaking beneath the sudden weight of your own need.
âYou,â he mouths against your skin, more a breath than a word. âI want you.â
Well. It doesnât get much more overt than that, does it? You pull him away from your neck by the hair, and he huffs another laugh as he allows the movement. Pulling him towards you, kissing him, does nothing to muffle the cut-off groan that escapes him.
Poor Sukuna, you think, with a vague fascination. Was he really so pent up? Driven mad with want for you?
It seems so. His hands, big enough to eclipse your waist, ride upwards. It chafes against your costume, and his fingers dig deeper, nearly bruising your ribs, as if reprimanding you for it. Truly, what a frustrating man. A breathy sigh escapes you as his thumbs rub at the underside of your breast, sensations dulled by the fabric separating you, and on your next breath youâre pushing your tongue into his mouth.
With the groan he lets out, youâd think heâd come right there. He pushes closer, closer, until thereâs no room to breathe. Heâs flush against you, a blazing heat against your front. Thereâs no room to pull away, no leverage against the monster caging you. Youâre a pinned bird, laid bare at the mercy of his whims.
A whimper escapes you at the thought.Â
One of his hands trace the curve of your thigh. Thereâs barely room to breathe in the space between you, his fingers digging so deeply into your skin you can already feel the bruise. Itâs hard to keep track of what heâs doingâwith four arms, heâs effortlessly doing twice the work of a regular man. It leaves your head swimming, your diaphragm contracting beneath his palms as he growls. His nails, sharp as claws, tear through your leotard.
âSukunaâ!â He cuts off your complaint with another kiss. Your clothes are shed thoughtlessly, and the wind is a shock against your skin, even as your front lies flush against Sukuna. Oh God, youâre outside. Youâd completely forgotten.
You tear yourself away from his mouth, turning your head to the side as you heave for breath. âYou brute,â you say, breathless. âKenjaku will kill me when he finds out you ripped that.â
âA paltry complaint.â The words come from his stomach-mouth. His real mouth is otherwise occupied, biting at your neck where your heart beats the hardest, sucking it between his teeth until the skin stains purple. âHe wouldnât dare.â
A paltry complaint? Youâll show him a paltry complaint. Honestly, his arrogance! âWe also need toââ you cut yourself off on a gasp as his tongue laves over your neck, dipping down between your breasts. ââmove inside.â
âI see no reason to move.â
âAnyone could seeââ
âThey wonât see you. I wonât let them.â
His self-assuredness is as attractive as it is infuriating. âEveryoneâs on the look-out for you.â
He smiles against your breast, moving until he lacks flatly over your nipple. The sudden sensation has you jolting. âThey wonât find me. Do you think I canât predict those inane maggots? Theyâre swarming like ants to keep customers safe and entertained. No one will venture out this far.â
Truly, he is too confident. Youâre not given room to argue, however, when heâs sucking your nipple into his mouth, too-sharp teeth grazing the bud whilst your other breast is taken into hand between those frighteningly sharp claws. Your breath hitches on a gasp, body twitching further into his touch, and thin scratches bead against his fingers.Â
Not willing to leave everything to him, you move, fingers delicately tracing the edges of his robe. Your hand ventures downwards, inwards, until youâve gone from the wide frame of his shoulders to the hard skin of his abdomen. Youâd never thought yourself to be interested in such brutal masculinity, but something about it has knocked your head loose; he could strangle me so easily, you think, relishing in the way his palm cups your breast and nails threaten to break your skin. He could kill me and it wouldnât even be a struggle, as you dip your head, pressing a kiss to his scalp and tweaking a nipple between two fingers. He grunts with the motion, jerking as if he hadnât expected to like it.
You want to hear that sound again. You pinch, but he once again has a mastery over his reactions; he raises his head, and a soft flush lines his cheeks. He groans at your expression, hiking you up with a hand at your waist until his cock is pressing against you. Heâsâ itâsâ
âWhyâs it soâ?â You cut yourself off with a sharp gasp as your ripped leotard is opened further and his hands make home scratching thin lines down your torso. He rolls his hips once, twice, and you relish in the feeling before regaining your wits. You move, fingers grasping at those soft pink strands and tugging him away from your breast. He allows the movement, peering down at you with those heavy red eyes. âSukuna? Why does it feel likeââ
You donât finish the sentence. You canât, because it feels so ludicrous to voice aloud. Itâs just⊠how can he be soâŠ?
âDonât act so shocked,â he purrs, grinning like a fat cat being served its fourth meal. A hand cups your ass, guiding you to grind against him; he laughs at the soft sigh that escapes you at the feeling. âOver and again, Iâve been called a monster. The two-faced demon, they call me; are you truly surprised the moniker extends elsewhere?â
This man! You flush violently, suddenly so hot you canât help trying to squirm away from him. He doesnât let you, guiding you closer, pulling you flush against his two (two!) cocks. What does any man need two of them for?
Yet, you canât help yourself. What can you say? Youâre a glutton for his inhumanities; with every monstrous revelation, youâre drawn closer into his net. You want to see, to feel, to touch. Your mouth waters at the very prospect. Can you be blamed for drawing your hand lower? Dipping below the waist of that robe until the tips of your fingers graze against the base of one of his two (seriously, two!) penises?
A cut-off moan escapes him. âWomanââ
âCall me by my name,â you murmur, tracing the base and following it to his second penis. âYou asked me what I want? Thatâs it. I want you to say my name.â
Your name escapes him on a strangled whimper. âDonât toy with me.â
You hum, pressing a kiss to his temple. He hurriedly sheds you of what scraps remain of your costume, loosening his robe and freeing his cocksâreally, youâre not quite over that detailâbefore pressing forward. Air escapes you on a keen as Sukuna slides through your slick folds, and he groans appreciatively at the sound.Â
âBeautiful,â he mutters, low enough you almost donât catch it.Â
âOh my god, hurry up,â you hiss between your teeth, voice hitching on a moan as he bumps against your clit. The sudden stimulation is a shock to your core, and you clench fruitlessly around nothing. You want him so bad it hurts.
âSo demanding,â he laughs, like he didnât jolt closer towards you at the sound of your moan. âDonât worry. Iâll give you what you want.â
He does not, in fact, give you what you want. Instead, Sukuna winds his bottom pair of arms around your thighs, jerking you up the wall until youâre situated face to face. He pulls you into a suspiciously tender kiss, even as his mouth eclipses your own. It should be gross. It should be weird. Somehow, you just find it impossibly attractive.Â
Then a tongue is swiping through your folds, and you jerk so abruptly that you accidentally bite down on his tongue. Youâd forgotten about the stomach mouth, right up until it's all you can think aboutâhe licks around your entrance, trails the tip of his tongue against your clit, careful not to apply too much pressure. He leaves you squirming, grinning against your lips and opening his mouth-mouth so wide his bottom teeth accidentally clip your chin.
Fuck, heâs so big. Itâs unbelievable.
You choke on his name as a hand comes up, grasping you by the throat to hold you still. His fingers flex idly, as if it takes no pressure at all to leave you bruised. He could kill me, you think wildly. He could squeeze right now and crush your windpipe; he could open that stomach mouth a little wider and cleave right through your thighs; one careless move, and youâd be nothing but a heaping sack of meat. He could kill me, and itâd take no effort at all.
Your next moan hinges on a ridiculous whine. It feels like heâs eating your face, drinking up your cunt, toying with your tits while he humps against nothing like a rabid dog. His tongue circles your opening, stimulating sensitive nerves until youâre squirming away. Then he dips in, unimpeded by the way you clench down on his tongue at the feeling.
Thank god, the part of your brain still capable of higher executive function murmurs; thereâs no world in which you were going to let him put those nails inside of you. The thought has you huffing a laugh that abruptly hitches into another moan as he massages you from the inside.
You pinch his nipple in revenge. He groans, and his teeth leave a hairline scratch against your cheek. You already know youâre going to look mauled when this is over; the mere thought has heat coursing down your spine. You want to mark him in returnâyou want to scratch him so deeply it takes weeks to heal, and no one will be able to glimpse at those wide shoulders, that monumental chest, and not immediately know what you did to him.Â
Your pussy spasms at the thought. Fuck.
You lose track of time like that, the world narrowing down to the slick slide of his mouth on yours and his tongue spearing you open. It feels like you blink and youâre panting heavily, dangling on a precipice and scratching at his chest. You manage to pull him away for just long enough to mutter, âDear God, please put your cock in me,â before heâs fumbling like a fool, large hand gripping his own cock and lining himself up against you.
Then he pushes in and, well, your dreams of scratching him up become a reality. Red beads along the path of your nails, weeping under the weight of his moan. You duck your head to bite at his neck, chewing along his jugular like youâre trying to break skin and tear through his heartbeat. His dick twitches within you.
An eon and a moment pass at once as he sinks into you. Heâs big, heavy, and the unfamiliar weight has your breath trapping in your chest. His second cock drags through your labia as he bottoms out in you, the underside dragging at your clit and sending sparks shivering through your frame. The pleasure feels inescapable; youâre cored out on his cock and trapped against a wall, unable to do anything but take it.
âYou feel so good,â you whisper against his throat, tasting the way his heart thuds violently. âI want you toâ Sukuna, pleaseââ
He pulls out before sinking back in one smooth motion. It creates constant pressure on your clit, a long trail of sensation that makes your tongue numb in your mouth. âYes,â he hisses between his teeth, âwhatever you want. Just tell me. Beg me.â
âYou insufferableâ!â Your teeth clamp down around his skin as he plows into you. It pulls a long, low groan from him, the sound vibrating against your teeth as it travels up his throat. That man! Trying to make you beg for him as if he didnât leave his caravan for the first time in your memory just to kiss you. Just to prove youâre worth that miniscule effort.
But oh, how you want him; his arm around your throat, his hands crushing your ribs, his teeth digging past your skin and wrenching the flesh straight off your bones. You want to be consumedâyou want his teeth to work through your skin, to squeeze at your heart, for him to turn into the violent predator everyone described him as. You want him to bruise you so deeply you canât breathe without feeling an echo of him. You wantâ-
âHarder,â you gasp.Â
âThere we go,â he mutters. âDonât you feel good, taking what you want?â
If you were taking what you wanted, youâd be riding him. You tell him as much between hiccuping breaths and he chokes on a laugh that curdles into a moan halfway through.Â
He chants your name on a low grunt as you near your completion, hands grasping you impossibly tight. Your ribs creak under the pressure, your breath cutting short thanks to his hand at your throat, your hair pulled so tight that tears prick at your eyes. He spasms from the pleasure; you jerk from the same. Itâs almost a dance, the both of you sparking like a wildfire as you hurdle towards a mutual end. It builds, builds, builds.
âSukuna,â you gasp. âSukuna, Sukuna, Sukunaââ
He comes on a choked whimper, fucking you through his own completion. His other penis coats your stomach and thighs with his come, slicking your vagina further as he bumps against your clit until you physically canât take it, following him with a strangled gasp of his name.
You heave in the aftermath, twitching with residual pleasure as he softens inside of you. Youâre sensitive as a bruise. Sukunaâs hands stroke against your sides, and you can barely handle it from the dual pain-pleasure of his fingers gliding over those scratches. Your mouth is thick with bloodâyou hadnât realised it in the moment, but youâd bitten your way through his skin to leave a bloody kiss carved into his collarbone. You canât help feeling proud of it.
âI want you,â he says wretchedly, muffled against sweat-slick skin. âI want you.â
You press a soft kiss over the bite. Privately, you hope it scars; hope he has to keep this symbol of you forever. âI know, Sukuna. I want you too.â
(Sukunaâs back in his cage the next day, lounging as though he never left. Kenjaku looks at him through misshapen metal bars, a spike of irritation lancing through him at the ruckus the demon caused. He asks, âWhat was that about, yesterday? Did you have to make such a fuss?â
Sukunaâs mouth twitches into a snarling grin. âI went where I wished to be.â)
exbf!toji who still has a key to your apartment and uses it at 2 AM, letting himself in like he owns the place.Â
youâre half-asleep on the couch when you hear the door click, and you sit up just as he steps into the living room, his frame filling the doorway.
"toji, what the hell are you doing here?" you hiss, pulling your blanket tighter around you. he shrugs, tossing his jacket onto the chair like he still lives there.Â
"missed you. figured you missed me too."Â
"i donât," you lie, but your voice cracks, and he grins like heâs already won.Â
"yeah? then why you still lettinâ me in, baby?"
exbf!toji who has no job, no money, and no shame about asking you for either. heâs leaning against your kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching you make coffee like heâs got all the time in the world. "you got twenty bucks? just till friday."Â
you scoff, not even turning around. "toji, iâm not your fucking atm."Â
he steps up behind you, his hands sliding around your waist, his mouth brushing your ear. "câmon, baby. iâll make it worth your while. you know i always do."Â
you hate how your body reacts, how heat pools low in your belly at the promise in his voice. "youâre such a bum," you mutter, but youâre already reaching for your wallet.
exbf!toji who fucks you like itâs the only thing heâs good at, because it probably is.Â
heâs got you bent over your kitchen table, your cheek pressed against the wood, his hand fisted in your hair.Â
"fuck, youâre tight," he groans, his hips snapping forward, driving into you so deep you see stars. "missed this pussy. missed how you squeeze me."Â
youâre moaning, your fingers gripping the edge of the table, and you hate yourself for how good it feels. "t-tojiâfuckâslow downnnn!â"Â
"nah," he pants, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. "you like it fast. you like it rough. donât lie to me, baby. i know you better than that."
exbf!toji who still knows exactly how to touch you, like your body never forgot him.Â
heâs got two fingers inside you, curling against that spot that makes your legs shake, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. "youâre so wet," he murmurs, his voice low and filthy. "you been thinkinâ about me? touchinâ yourself at night, wishinâ it was me?"Â
youâre panting, your hips rolling against his hand despite yourself. "shut up," you gasp.Â
he laughs, low and rough. "thatâs not a no."
exbf!toji who refuses to leave after heâs done with you, sprawling across your bed like he still belongs there.Â
youâre lying beside him, your body still humming, your mind already regretting everything. "you should go," you say, but thereâs no conviction in it.Â
he rolls onto his side, propping his head on his hand, his dark eyes watching you. "nah. iâm comfortable."Â
"tojiâ"Â
"câmonnn, baby. just let me stay the night. iâll be gone in the morning. i promise." you know heâs lying.Â
you know heâll still be there when you wake up, and youâll hate yourself for it. but when he pulls you against his chest, his arm heavy around your waist, you donât push him away.
exbf!toji who gets jealous when he sees you talking to someone else, even though he has no right.Â
youâre at a bar, nursing a drink, when a guy approaches youâtall, clean-cut, smiling. youâre laughing at something he says when you feel a presence behind you, a hand on your lower back.
"hey, baby," toji says, his voice deceptively casual. "whoâs this?" the guy looks between you two, sensing the tension.Â
"i was just leaving," he mutters, backing off. you turn to toji, furious.Â
"you donât get to do that, asshole! weâre not together anymore."Â
he leans in, his mouth brushing your ear. "yeah? then why you still lettinâ me fuck you into your mattress every other day?"
exbf!toji who has a filthy mouth and knows exactly how to use it.
heâs got you on your back, your legs over his shoulders, his cock buried so deep you can barely breathe. "look at you," he groans, his eyes raking over your body. "so fuckinâ pretty when youâre takinâ my cock. you love this, donât you? you love lettinâ me fuck you stupid."
youâre moaning, your hands fisting the sheets, and you canât even deny it. "tojiâfuckk!â"Â
"say it," he demands, his thrusts getting harder. "tell me you love it."Â
"i l-love it," you sob. "i love it, tojiii! pleaseâ"
exbf!toji who leaves bruises on your hips and bite marks on your neck, and you hate how much you like seeing them in the mirror the next day.Â
youâre standing in your bathroom, your fingers tracing the purple marks on your skin, when he appears behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist. "sorry âbout that, sweetheart. i'll be gentler next time." he says, but he doesnât sound sorry at all.Â
"no, you won't," you mutter. he grins, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.Â
"yeah. you're right."
exbf!toji who always comes back, no matter how many times you swear youâre done with him.Â
itâs been three months since you last saw him, and youâre finally starting to feel okay again. then your phone buzzes.Â
DO NOT ANSWER. [2:03 AM] :Â u up?
you stare at the message, your heart pounding. you should probably ignore it. you should definitely block him. but your fingers are already typing.Â
You [2:07 AM] : the doorâs unlocked. and you hate yourself for it, but when he shows up twenty minutes later, smelling like cigarettes and that damn cologne, you let him in. you'll always let him in.
exbf!toji who makes you cum so hard you forget your own name, and then has the audacity to ask if you want to get breakfast in the morning.Â
youâre lying in bed, your body wrecked, your mind fuzzy, when he rolls over and looks at you. "you hungry? thereâs that diner down the street. the one with the good pancakes."Â
you laugh, despite yourself. "toji, you donât even have the money for pancakes."Â
he shrugs, pulling you closer. "i was hoping it'd be your treat."Â
you know you should kick him out and finally end this cycle. but his arm is warm around you, and his heartbeat is steady under your ear, and for now, you just let yourself have this quiet moment
The apartment door barely latched before Sukuna shoved you face-down over the back of the couch, yanking your dress up, spreading your slick with his cock, his precum mixing yours as he thrusted into you.
âShitâKunaâslow downââ you gasped, but he only laughed and fucked you harder, the wet squelch of your pussy echoing through the quiet living room.
Down the hall, Tojiâs eyes snapped open in the darkness of his room. The rhythmic thump thump thump of the couch against the wall is whatâd woken him.
Your next moan was shamelessly loud as Tojiâs door creaked open. He stood in the doorway, shirtless, massive bulge straining his gray sweats, âWoke me up with this sloppy shit,â he rumbled.
His eyes raking over your bouncing tits and the way Sukunaâs thick cock disappeared inside your dripping cunt.
Sukuna slowed his thrusts but didnât stop, grinding deep while looking over at his roommate. âTook you long enough, Fushiguro. Sheâs making too much noise anyway. Come shut her up.â
Toji didnât hesitate, shoving his sweats down, letting his heavy, veiny cock spring free. You barely had time to whimper before he was gripping your hair and feeding his length past your lips, stretching your mouth wide.
âFuck⊠thatâs it,â Toji groaned, eyes rolling back as your tongue swirled around him.
They found their rhythm fast, Sukuna pounding your pussy while Toji fucked your throat, their hands roaming your body. You came hard with a muffled scream around Tojiâs cock, pussy clenching and gushing around Sukuna. Both men groaned at the feeling.
The gluck-gluck-gluck mixing with the constant schlick-schlick of Sukuna destroying your pussy. You moaned desperately around Tojiâs length, tears streaming as you came hard. Your pussy spasmed violently, squirting around Sukunaâs cock.
Sukuna followed instantly, pumping rope after rope of hot seed into your pulsing cunt until it leaked down your thighs. Toji came last, thrusting himself deep down your throat flooding your mouth with thick cum.
Toji pulled out of your mouth as he wiped the mess across your cheek, smirking down at your tear-streaked, fucked-out face. âSwallowed most of it like a good girl.â
You barely caught your breath before Sukuna yanked you up by the hair, spinning you around and shoving you onto your back on the couch.
Toji moved in immediately, grabbing your ankles and folding you in half, knees pressed to your shoulders in a mean mating press. âFuckâwaitââ you whimpered, still twitching from the last orgasm.
He grinned down at you, that scarred lip curling as the fat head of his cock nudged your swollen folds, pushing Sukunaâs seed back inside you.
âDonât worry, princess, Iâll go slow on this pretty pussy.â Toji growled, he sank in with his thick cock and fuck, he was even bigger than Kuna. You moaned loudly as Sukuna caught the look on your face, he was determined to get an answer, âWhoâs bigger, Ji or me?â
a/n: I think Tojiâs bigger but thatâs j cus heâs sittin right here next to me
When the topic of âthe most embarrassing thing your ex ever said in bedâ came up. You laughed, told him about the one guy who kept asking if you were âclose yetâ like he was checking a fucking timer. Toji snorted laughing, âBet none of âem ever made you squirt, huh?â
You blinked at the dumb shit that heâd just said. âMade meâŠwhat?â
He stared at you for a second, then barked out a laugh. âYouâre shittinâ me. You really donât know?â
You shrugged, cheeks burning. âI mean, Iâve come before. It feels good. But squirting? ThatâsâŠporn bullshit, not real life.â you laughed, kicking your legs up onto his lap. âGirls fake that shit for views.â
He sat up, elbows on his knees, looking at you like you were fucking crazy, âYou serious right now?â You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, âYeah, okay, Mr. Expert. Youâve made every girl youâve fucked squirt then?â
He caught your ankle again when you tried to playfully kick his face, this time yanking you forward so fast you yelped, sliding you halfway onto his lap. âHell yeah, everyone single one and the fact that none of those pathetic exes of yours ever got you thereâŠkinda pisses me off.â
You opened your mouth to deny it, âWhatever. Itâs not a big deal. Iâm not missing out on anything.â Tojiâs hand landed heavy on your thigh, slapping it, âYou are. And Iâm not letting my best friend walk around thinking she canât squirt when I know damn well she canâŠBet I could make you.â
Now your best friend had you pinned on his bed, shirt shoved up over your tits, shorts and panties dangling off one ankle. His palm strokes slow circles over your stomach, the other hand resting heavy on your inner thigh. âRelax, baby,â he murmurs against your ear, âYou trust me, right?â
You nod, this was Toji. Your best friend. The guy whoâs seen you ugly-cry over breakups and insults you about it. And now his fingers are sliding through your already slick folds like heâs done this a hundred times in his head. âFuck, youâre so wet already,â he laughed at you. âJust from talking about it?â
You tried to glare at him, but it came out as a shaky breath when his calloused thumb found your clit and rubbed lazy circles. Your back arched off the bed, tits bouncing slightly with the movement since your shirt was bunched uselessly above them. âShut up,â you moaned, as he pushed two thick fingers inside you. He leaned down, biting the side of your breast before sucking your nipple into his hot mouth.
âIâI donâtââ You gasped as he added a third finger, âItâs not gonna happen, Ji. I already t-told youâit doesnât happen to me-e.â Youâre soaked, embarrassingly so, as you bit your lip hard, trying not to moan too loudly.
ââCause you didnât know what the fuck you were doing,â Toji growled, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and shifting so he could watch his fingers disappear into you. âTojiâwait, it feelsâŠweirdââ you whimpered, trying to close your legs. It was too intense, like you had to pee but a hundred times stronger.
He spits on your clit, then drags his tongue through your folds in one long lick before sucking your clit into his mouth. âThatâs your body telling you youâre about to squirt all over my fucking hand like a good girl.â He spits on your clit again, three thick fingers stretching you open as he fucks you faster.
The slick sounds were louder now, as you tried to close your legs, but Tojiâs broad shoulders keep you spread wide, his free hand pinning your thigh down, the other curling perfectly while his palm slapped wetly against your clit with every stroke so you couldnât escape the overwhelming sensation. âSquirt for me like a good fucking girl.â
You begin to whimper desperately, âTojiâToji Iâoh my godâ!â You shake your head, panting, âJi, seriouslyâstop, it feels like Iâm gonnaââ Your back arches hard, tits heaving, nipples stiff and aching from his earlier attention.
Your whole body is trembling, thighs trying uselessly to snap shut around his huge fuckass shoulders while gushing squirts soak Tojiâs wrist, his forearm, the sheets beneath your ass in a clear, messy spray. You whimper louder as your squirt splashes messily against his chest and stomach, âFuuuck, there it is,â Toji groaned, watching with satisfaction as you made a mess. âLook at that. Keep going, good girl, thatâs it.â
When he finally slowed his fingers and pulled them out, you were a shaking whimpering mess. He lifted his soaked hand to his mouth and licked off his fingers groaning. âFuckinâ told you,â he said, voice rough with arousal.
Your pussy clenched and fluttered around his fingers as the last weak spurts trickled out. You lay there panting, trembling, thighs soaked and staring up at him in stunned, blissed-out disbelief. âTold you it was real,â he rasped, âItâs a good thing I love provinâ you wrong.â
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Toji Zenin is incomprehensibly powerful due to his Heavenly Restriction, granting him superhuman abilities that reflect in his strength, speed, and even⊠senses.
Yet it isn't until he goes out on a date with his first girlfriend at the ripe age of 22 that he realizes how exceptional his prowess really is when it comes to surpassing the average human.
His nose twitches. âYou get a new perfume or somethinâ?â he inquires as you pull him back into your apartment, kicking your shoes off at the entryway impatiently and standing on your tip toes to pepper kisses along the column of his throat, teeth grazing his carotid.
You shrug absentmindedly like you canât quite hear him through the haze of your lust, fingers curling into the supple feel of his leather jacket and peeling it off of his sturdy shoulders.
As if he canât get undressed fast enough, or slip his cock into you sooner.
âNope. Shut up and kiss me,â you headily groan out, voice breathy and body emanating a heat that has him cocking an eyebrow.
Things shifted from then on, Toji picking up on the minute details.
Every couple of months, when heâd be in close quarters with you, youâd start nuzzling against him like a whiny mutt and exude a fucking scent that had him itching his scalp. Heâd barely rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes and youâd be canting your hips back against his crotch, whimpering in your groggy state at the asscrack of dawn about how he needed to "kiss your cervix."
Whatever that meant.
At first, he chalked it up to you being horned up and ready to goâbut coupled with the scent? It had him reeling.
Toji is a smart man, and he isn't incognizant with the female body. But he is still a manâone who needs to do his research and allow someone to explain whatever heâd missed out on puzzling together on his own.
r/SexEd - 3 hr. ago
tojiz
I (22M) have run into an issue of sorts with my girlfriend (22F). Her body emits this weird smell when sheâs horny and trying to mount me. Anyone know what this is?
â
sixeyesandsixabs - 1 hr. agoÂ
lmfao. sounds like sheâs in heat.
Tojiâs fingers twitch against his phone screen.
Heat? As in the fucking wattpad shit you made him read?
He audibly scoffs at the guyâs piercing blue eyes in his profile picture. No, you werenât in heat, a cramping omega in need of their fucking alpha to soothe their pains, and this wasn't fucking Omegaverse. There was no fantastical sweet scent like pastries that trickled from your glands to make his mouth water.
It was more⊠primal. A feminine musk that radiated from you when you were needy. Itâd last for around a day or so, then be gone with the wind along with your incessant need to have him stuffing you with his cock.
He groans, dragging a hand down his face, before his phone notifies him of another comment.
leopardprint - Just now
Maybe youâve just got a knack for sensing her ovulation.
âHuh,â he breathes out, mind now churning like an oiled cog in a rusty mechanism.
He tosses his phone aside noncommittally and quickly paces over to you. You have your legs tossed over the side of the couch, bleakly flipping through his ancient television with no streaming options and only droning cable. You're wearing his shirt, perky nipples pressing through the flimsy fabric. Mascara from the night before and a bare face. The kind of look he'd prefer over anything else.
âWhen was your last period?â
Skeptically, you drag your gaze up to him. âWell, hello to you, too,â you scrunch your eyebrows, squinting at him before pinpointing an answer. âUh. Like a week ago. Why?â
A quiet hum of realization hits him. That makes perfect fucking sense. Women typically ovulate about two weeks after their period starts, giving him⊠not long until your next ovulation period.
He cocks his head down at you, hungry gaze trickling over your form. Youâre in his boxers like a fucking tease.
Maybe he was the one ovulating and needing to paint his biological needs on your insides with the way blood was rushing south like molten lava.
You hadnât been pawing at him in a bit, a hint that you should be starting it up soon.
Heâd just jump the gun before you could squeeze the trigger.
Your boyfriend leans over you, splaying a hand over your lower abdomen and adding a bit of pressure. Playful intent and all, the corner of his lip twitches upwards and you feel skittish. âYou feel anything here, darling?â
His voice is gravelly and thick, the tone he reserves for the bedroom, and the timbre is sent straight to your core to pool heat in your loins.
You swallow thickly, orbs darting between his jade irises before nodding.
He inches forward, bringing his nose towards your neck and inhaling the scent covering your skin.Â
Affirmed, youâre ovulating.
He chuckles low, knowing, pressing a tender kiss against your jugular.
pairing. hockeyplayer!sukuna x fem!reader x hockeyplayer!toji
summary. being best friends with two hockey stars came with it's perks; including being their fuck toy after tournaments.
warnings. NSFW/MDNI, explicit sexual content, smut, threesome, car sex, semi-public sex, praise kink, degradation, sexual overstimulation, voyeurism, f! and m! masturbating, dacryphilia, belly bulge, orgasm denial, porn what plot, double penetration, unprotected sex, nudes, use of endearments. art by to00fu
Being best friends with the two hottest hockey players on campus came with itâs perks. Even if they got on each otherâs nerves from who could score the most points, to who was the MVP, to who you favored, you relished in it.
For one, you had an automatic entry to any function you wanted to attend.
Heads turn the second you walk in, prickling and hair-raising. Glares from girls who wish they were in your position, or guys who wanted you for themselves, too busy dragging their eyeline up your bare legs to the swell of your ass below your oversized T-shirt to say a word.
âI heard their meeting with their managers ran long and theyâre exhausted. Did they say anything to you?â
âYou know anything about them coming tonight?â
âThis is probably really stupid⊠but do you know if Sukuna got my text from two days ago?â
You plop down on the sofa, legs crossed lazily and a bleak stare heavy in your eyes as a girl passes you her joint. The words from your peers surrounding you blur into convoluted nonsense, intangible. All you know is you miss the company of your best friends, and they should be making an appearance tonight you read from their text earlier so why ruin the surprise?
The smoke billows in your lungsâwarm, and enough to dull the blinding neon lights and suffocating atmosphere reeking of stale beer and sweat. Youâre not even a huge fan of parties, but this is where they wanted you.
Thud.
A grin crawls up the corner of your mouth as the doors swing open.
What people donât know is that your friendship with the two hockey stars went further than most.
The room seems to tilt the second they step past the threshold. Clearly freshly showered, the tips of their raven and salmon hair dripping beneath their hoods, the scent of body wash infiltrating your nostrils over the intoxicating ale and ash. You scowl when your eyes drop down to Tojiâs pelvis, realizing that he hadnât even cared to throw on underwear, his thick cock slapping against his thigh beneath his sweatpants and creating an imprint on the thin fabric.
The salivary glands in your mouth start working.
You sigh, tossing your head back like youâre inconvenienced before handing the blunt back, anticipating bubbling in your gut. âSorry, guys. My rideâs here.â
Sukunaâs lip peels back into a pleased smirk when he realizes youâre sporting his graphic tee this time around instead of Tojiâs, head tilting downwards as you saunter past both towering men without a word, clearly understanding your sexual innuendo that seems to float above everyone elses head. Those red-rimmed eyes are glued to your ass as you slip out the front door and towards Tojiâs car. Itâs only when a smack lands against the back of his head that heâs rooted back in reality.
âPerv,â Toji snarls, clicking his tongue in mirth.
Sukuna shoves his shoulder into the hockey forward, baring his canines. âYou were just telling me you missed her tits.â
The jade-eyed green man shrugs, slipping his hood off. âFirst one outside gets to come on those tits.â
Sukuna doesnât wait for a countdown from his friend, sprinting past the crowd and to his car where you wait patiently, Toji clipping his heels with a frown.
Oh, and another thing that people didnât know, is that the two men reveled in fighting over you. Maybe it was the common athletes competitive nature, but you werenât complaining.
You grab Tojiâs hoodie from the backseat and slip it on, some gripe on your tongue about how cold it is outside, simply wanting to see the jealous flicker in those crimson eyes in the backseat. Tojiâs fingers curl around the steering wheel, tallying another win onto his imaginary board in his head.
âYâknow, everyone in there missed you guys,â you start, biting the grin on the inside of your cheek, watching the treeline blur in the dark of the night.
âSâthat so?â Sukuna asks, running his tongue over his teeth. Heâs too focused on the thought of those pretty lips suctioning around his cock thatâs practically screaming your name.
âDid you guys miss me?â you seek, turning over to face the both of them, batting your eyelashes. Heat is already pooling in your loins from the sheer desire rolling off the two men you hadnât seen in weeks since they had a tournament out of town, but egging them on is so much more fun before giving them a taste.
âFuck yeah,â Toji groans in irritation like itâs out of question, eyeline darting over towards you from the driverâs seat, just to trail down to your legs. âYou miss us, doll?â
Cue the desperation.
Angling your back against the door, a whine of assent trickles from your lips, a pout hanging from your lower lip. You nod, your hand sliding down your navel and disappearing along the apex of your thighs.
âFuckkkk.â The elongated groan comes from the backseat, voice terrifyingly raspy and deep, and you can see Sukuna pressing a hand against his clothed cock.
You lick your lips, lithe fingers sliding past the waistband of your shorts and pressing the gusset of your panties. Damp, coated in saccharine arousal. âItâs been so hard,â you whimper, lashes fluttering shut, painting circles over your silky folds above your underwear. âYou guys know my fingers canât reach that deep.â
You can hear Tojiâs breath hitch, air stripped from his lungs at the lewd sight. His pretty best friend, touching herself in his hoodie, in his car.
âYeah? Couldnât make yourself cum like we make you?â Sukuna poses, already shuffling his sweatpants off along with his boxers, erection springing up and against his hoodie.
You sigh despondently. âMhm. Will you guys help me now that youâre back?â
You already know the answer. Itâs just too much fun watching the lust suffocate the both of them.
Sukunaâs grin splits wide across his face, fingers curling around his hard-rock shaft.
âWeâre gonna make you cum so hard you cry.â
â
âO-Oh my fuckkk.â
Youâre straddling Toji in the backseat, hoodie and T-shirt long discarded, his raw cock pressing past the ring of resistance slick with arousal, dipping into your pussy. Heâs got both hands on your tits, squeezing the flesh and pressing his face into them, soft groans leaving his lips. Hands rough, calloused, needy.
Sukunaâs standing outside the parked car, one hand on your waist as he feeds his unprotected cock into your ass, tossing his head back with a moan to echo into the night.
You shudder, tears biting your waterline, the stretch unbearable. Yeah, youâve taken them both at the same time before, but itâd been so long since you last saw them that youâre struggling to adjust.
âRelax, girl,â Sukuna grits out from above, watching your body tense up. With only the tip in, heâs fighting back his pleasure to fully bottom out, but he needs you to release the tension first or else youâll get hurt in the process. âIâve got you.â
âWhat he said,â Toji sighs muffled, his cock slipping in deeper and punching a moan from you. A hand of his slips down past the valley of your breasts to find your clit, stimulating the neglected bundle of nerves. âIf you donât ease up, how am I supposed to cum on these tits?â
That earns a strained laugh from you, hands digging into his broad chest. Your stomach inverts when you realize youâre the only one fully naked here, resting your head on Tojiâs shoulder and letting out a shuddered breath.
âYou have no idea how much we missed you,â Toji whispers into your ear, husky and breathless like he needs to thrust up into you.
âOh, Iâve got an i-idea,â you retort, thinking back on the picture Sukuna sent you from their hotel room.
Both of them, standing in front a mirror, jerking themselves off to the picture you sent of your tits.
âDid you guys kiss after?â you quiz, feeling your walls flutter around their shafts, slowly sucking them in.
Sukuna gasps, eyebrows drawing inwards as he watches him and his best friend disappear inside you, cock spasming inside your walls. âYouâd like that shit, wouldnât you?â
You shrug, tongue darting out from your mouth to wet your lips, lifting yourself up to press back into their cocks.
The moan you release is nothing short of pornographic, sinful.
âMaybe.â
âOh, doll,â Toji grunts, hands coming up to smack your ass. âFeels so much fuckinâ better than I remember.â
Your arousal leaks onto them, and soon enough, theyâve bottomed out their massive cocks into you, practically pressing into your fucking lungs. Your face twists up as Tojiâs cock presses up against your sweet spot, dribbling precum inside you, your ass squeezing Sukunaâs cock like a vice.
And if Toji and Sukuna arenât losing themselves in youâToji pressing forward to suck onto your tits and leave love bites youâll sure will bruise by morning, Sukuna pressing a splayed palm into the small of your back just to see that sinful arch.
âKeep squeezinâ me like that and, fuck, Iâll cum inside your ass,â Sukuna huffs, sweat building above his furrowed brows, slowly beginning to thrust into your puckering hole. âDonât need much from you, brat.â
The veins youâve memorized on both their cocksâwhether from fisted handjobs or tracing your tongue up their lengthsâdrag against your gummy walls, sucking the air from your lungs. You can barely form a coherent sentence, feeling so unbearably and deliciously filled by their dicks, your maw hanging open.
The car is filled with sloppy, slick noises of them burying their cocks into you, animalistic grunts and groans, muttered praises that slip into filthy degradation.
âDoing so well, this sweet pussy.â
âYou can take it. Say it, baby.â
âFuckinâ whore. Ya need two cocks to get off, huh?â
Sukuna suddenly grips your wrists and wrenches you backwards, splitting your further on both dicks. A strangled gasp is ripped from you, stomaching caving inward, Toji propping his head up on two arms, enjoying the show.
âWell, would ya look at that,â he taunts, pools of jade honed in on your stomach. âLooks like weâre givinâ her a little bulge.â
You follow his blown pupils, gut erupting in butterflies where you see a thick outline pressing against your abdomen.
Too. Fucking. Much.
âOh f-fucking hell,â you gasp, the sound bordering on a cry.
Sukuna peers past your shoulder, a muscle in his jaw pulsing at the delicious sight. Both of his best friends, laid out and groaning like itâs their last day on earth.
You squirm in Sukunaâs hold, their mushroomed tips pistoning deep enough to slate your brain of anything. All you can focus on is how fucking good this feels. Their maddening cadence doesnât slow, no. If anything, it only quickens.
Fuck. The stamina of an athlete.
Heat fists in your gut, threatening to uncoil. You squeal unabashedly, barely able to keep up with how each rut knocks the wind out of you. Your orgasm is approaching, and very soon, while these two donât look like theyâll be done with you anytime soon.
âI-Iâm gonna cum!â you spill out, Tojiâs fingers finding your clit again.
Toji pouts, leaning forward and cocking his head. âIs that so? Where are your manners, sweetheart?â
A maniacal laugh erupts from Sukunaâs chest, sounding straight into your ear.
How could you forget how cruel they can be?
âYou didnât even ask.â
Your lip quivers, vision turning blurry with the overstimulation. Toji pinches your clit when you donât answer, your arms fighting against the burning restraint Sukuna is holding you back with.
âMay I c-cum?â
â⊠please.â
Your breath is sucked from your chest. âPlease?â
Toji smacks your cunt, your body jolting, his grin dipping into something wicked. âCum on our cocks.â
The orgasm that hits you is so blinding, your ears ring while a scream is ripped from your throat, black wiping out your vision. They sheath themselves to the fucking hilt, holding their cocks still inside of you, keeping you stretched and full.
Sukuna releases his hold, your body falling limp onto Toji who catches your body against his chest. You shudder, their strokes picking up slowly, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. Sukuna leans forward, pressing kisses against your shoulder.
âYou know how competitive me and Fushiguro get, right?â he breathes into your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth while you squirm.
Itâs too much, all too much. Sukunaâs cock nestled too deep, Toji still toying with your bud.
You nod, every muscle in your body aching and screaming from the exertion.
âWell, we made a bet tonight.â
Your ears perk up at the sound of Sukunaâs smooth words.
âW-what bet?â
Tojiâs grin widens against his your hairline where heâs peppering soft kisses.
âYa wanna do the honors?â Toji smirks, his free hand finding your ass to knead the supple flesh.
âWe made a bet on how many times we could make you cum tonight. How much youâd be able to give us.â
You still, nerves blooming behind your ribs.
âHow much did you guys bet?â
Sukuna straightens, running his fingers through his hair. âDonât worry your pretty lilâ head about it. Youâll find that out once you tap out.â
You scoff, turning back to glower. âWho says you guys wonât tap out first?â
The two men exchange a knowing look, then give you a slow appraisal.
Your skin flares in embarrassment, their eyes trailing the state of your body more grueling than being fucked by the both of them at the same time.
Sukuna shrugs noncommittally, but the shit-eating grin tells you everything you need to know.