#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿!𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼, the guy who works at the same campsite every summer since he's old enough to do so, the stubborn mule who grumbles all day but still helps if asked, the grumbler nicknamed "hero" by the kids because he once helped a cat stuck in a tree.
#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿!𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼, who considers himself a normal person, just a regular simple man, but who attracts your attention since days.
#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿!𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼 noticed you. Of course, he wasn't blind. It's not every day that someone buzz around him like an annoying mosquito. He doesn't really understand your interest even if his colleague, Eijiro sometimes called him irresistible.
#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿!𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼, that you once found repainting an old fence, the perfect opportunity to talk to him, right ? You approached, smiling innocently as if you hadn't been following him everywhere he went since your arrival.
"Hi..."
He doesn't look at you, too focused on that damn fence, but after a few seconds of awkward silence, he blurts out "Can I help you ?" in a gruff tone.
You couldn't think straight when he looked so damn good like that. Yeah breath, improvisation's good too.
"No, uhm, but...maybe I could help ?"
#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿!𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼 knew you were talking about helping him with the fence's painting, but seeing you follow him like that had piqued his curiosity. That meant you liked him, right ? So he took his chance.
#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿!𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼 ’s door was opened at an astonishing speed by the person who "was absolutely not waiting for your arrival" behind her. He invited you, his intentions were clear. You had come. He didn't want to seem defeatist, but he had a little trouble believing it. But you were there so he just grabbed you by the hips and kissed you.
#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿!𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼 really knew how to use his tongue for something other than complaining. You've had proof of that for, what, a good half hour ? Well, thirty-four minutes and twenty-two seconds, but he doesn't count at all. Nothing. Not even your three (and almost four) orgasms.
#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿!𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼 kept playing dominant guy while fucking you, and he was really good at it. His cock hit your sensitive spot every vigorous thrust, and he didn't neglect your clitoris either ! It was so intense and so good that he even lost the orgasms' count.
#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿!𝗯𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼 covered you in slobbery kisses to thank you for helping him so much. To his surprise, the next morning he found only one note in your place: "My number. Call me if you need help."
#𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿 had now to admit that Eijiro was right, he was perhaps a little irresistible...
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ᘏ𐑼 [repost] shopping with bf!sukuna ノ sukuna x fem!reader ꒰ m.list ꒱
Honestly, Sukuna didn’t really appreciate the idea of accompanying you for the seasonal sales. You promised it would be funny but your excitement was not mutual.
His weekend was supposed to be quiet and restful. Eventually he ended up in one of the most crowded areas of Shibuya. He agreed because you promised him a compensation, especially not because he loves you a little too much - yes, let’s leave him in his love denial.
So you spent the afternoon dragging him around the local shopping streets. You stopped at least thirty times in front of a display case, analyzing it and its content. But without ever bothering to enter the shop.
“Women and their stupid shopping”, he meant it, he couldn’t help thinking so when he was in that kind of situation right in the middle of the city.
And fortunately for Sukuna’s nerves, a shop finally catches your attention - finally.
In front of the fitting room, he was patiently waiting for his darling’s return, his beautiful red eyes placed on the screen of his phone, his finger scrolling through videos to pass the time.
And then you came out of your cave, dressed in a bold color set. You wore that adorable little mixed pout that you only do when something really bothers you.
He notices it, obviously. What an attentive man !
“A problem my queen ? ” he said while putting his phone in his back pocket, ready to listen to you.
You were frowning, focused. Was this problem that important ?
“This color doesn’t suit me, does it ‘Kuna ?”, You stare at him, so fixedly that he feels obliged to answer. A wave of heat then reaches the face of the great Sukuna.
“I’m not a stylist..."
Oh.
"...but I think it really suits you...” , he says it like that, without flinching and so quickly that one can no longer dispute his frankness
You ended up buying this set and Sukuna got the right to his reward by coming home.
Women and the joy of shopping.
📎note :: happy monday with Sukuna 😌☝️
-> this is a repost from my old account ( @aeriine ). I'm not stealing it or anything like this 🙂
the concept of creating an entire blog dedicated to shaming writers and calling their supporters “parasocial” is insane because to me, nothing is more parasocial than creating a whole ass account made for that reason .
half the shit that is being sent by other gross people isn’t even true. if you’re going to accuse someone of using ai , then at least have the proof to show so and have the courage to stop hiding behind anons.
and then these girls have the audacity to say that it’s not their fault writers are being doxxed / harassed / getting their personal problems out to the public when it quite literally is. you gave people the opportunity and you ENCOURAGED them into talking badly about others
if your whole goal was to bring attention to the usage of ai in the writing community , you three could’ve done that a very different way that doesn’t involve cyber bullying.
if you’re upset because of the influx amount of smut being written , support those who post fluff. reblog comment and follow their blog . make a post recommending said blogs so others have the ability to read what they want.
and the way they drew the line when a big blog was mentioned and said “we don’t have anything against them” meaning you have something against the rest of us ?
asking for people not to call out minors who are writing smut and refusing to post asks regarding that matter just proves that these girls behind the account are minors themselves
the blog is disgusting itself but the people who engaged with it for negative reason aren’t any better. you can’t cry about our community being toxic when you’re just making it worse.
to begin this, i apologize for the tags: though i do feel they are necessary as you continue to read this post. this will be my one and only time doing this.
not to be dramatic, no. actually, let’s do so briefly- with the wake of the new gossip/hate page @tojioffline that frankly, only wants to spread lies, drama and hatred. i have decided to make this account to spread positivity and YOU CAN TOO !
i am also aware of the ever so lovely @sweethearticism blog which is similar in tone to this one (i believe it is @bouquets-for-jjk , i could be mistaken ) this account is in no way to take light from that, i encourage you so highly right now to show so much love to not only her but to the account !
i firmly believe with the toxicity in this community that any extra support, love and happiness can’t be spread enough. we, yes WE are tired of the competitiveness between accounts, the hatred, the toxicity and the jealousy that overflows.
so to ACTUALLY start this off :: please feel free, anonymous or not to send in messages or asks about your favorite creators, jjk fandom or any fandom, feel free to send in helpful tips for beginner writers, feel free to just pop in and say hello !
if hatred is commented, messaged or asked, it will be blocked.
i hope we as a community can ignore accounts that only want to provoke more hatred where there is already enough. i send you all honey kisses and i can’t wait to be able to see love spread !
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sukuna had always found his bitchy student council president hot, especially when you're pointing fingers at him. he convinces himself that you'll be the perfect brat when beneath him— but what happens when he finds out that you're all bark and no bite? the esteemed president, actually an inexperienced princess.
♡ ₊˚‧ sweetheart. this was commissioned by anonymous <3
"And then she blocked me!"
"Eh. Deserved."
"Excuse me? Who could ever say no to these baby blues?"
"Blue eyes on a rat don't change a thing now does it?"
Rolling his eyes to the air vents, Sukuna shut his locker in a rattle of metal. Shuffling his duffel bag over his shoulder, he side-stepped to thump the whining, white-haired nuisance beside him with a broad shoulder.
"Kunnnaaa, he's being mean to me," pouted Satoru, throwing an arm over his shoulders and squeezing on his bicep in that not-so-subtle way.
"Well for one, maybe stop sharing your love life with Fushiguro of all people." Sukuna reached a hand out, snatching his friend by the back of his pearly white tresses and wrenching him off. "And secondly, off."
"Don't you love me anymore? Is there someone else? Am I— gasp—" trembling his hands, Satoru raised them to his mouth. Exaggerating his eyes in what he probably thought was cute. "Am I the other woman?"
"More like a skank." Toji grinned, immediately side-stepping a hit that came his way.
Sukuna sighed, deep from his soul that had grown weary dealing with the dumb-and-dumber duo he called his friend group. Unfortunately these knuckleheads were also apart of his team. Guess this was fate.
The hallway bustled with a stream of college stereotypes. The preps and their perfect palettes, prattling as they pranced around. The stoners who propped against lockers on the far end of the hallways, zoned out and scrolling. The nerds with their arrogant stares, standing upright as they beelined for their next class, somehow avoiding collision even with a textbook wedged in their hand. Everyone had their role in this academic ecosystem and moral wasteland.
Role. Stereotype. Stigmatism. Sukuna never quite understood it. How most people plopped themselves into a box with a poorly-scribbled label on the front and called it home.
By definition, he was a jock. Captain of the college's star rugby team. With mean eyes and rough hands. Where girls swooned, guys were scared.
No one expected the jock to be an engineering major. Guess that's the assumption when your enrolment in an institution relied on a sports scholarship.
"Engineering," he remembered how a pretty girl from finance batted her eyes at him in surprise. "Wouldn't have expected that from you."
Sukuna always rolled his eyes at that. And what would anyone expect of an engineering student? Someone more put-together, refined, with a pair of fogged-up glasses and maybe a tight fitting button-up?
He'd never understand it.
"Hey you three, quit loitering."
But he always understood that smooth voice.
He could already see it from his peripheral. Your creaseless blazer shining your badge proudly. The pencil skirt that was exactly three fingers above the knee. Your hair fixed appropriately without a strand straying. The school's code of conduct glinted in your eyes.
Another one who fit her role perfectly. The pretty student council president.
"Oh c'mon, prez. It's end semester." Satoru cooed, still finding the audacity to lean against one of the lockers despite the reprimand.
You stopped. Shoes placed exact centre on the grey tiles as you shot the delinquent a look. "The end of the semester is Friday. It's Monday."
Satoru grinned, pushing hand through his hair. "Always sooo dutiful. Lighten up a lil."
Sukuna heard it before you said it. Saw the trail of your eyes before you had even darted your gaze to their mess of uniforms. Satoru's blazer was tied around his waist. Toji was missing his entirely. Sukuna's belt hung low. Don't even get started on all three of their hairstyles that broke at least four regulations.
Yeah, delinquent was putting it lightly.
Sukuna was already mouthing your reprimand before it left your lips.
"Fix yourselves." Calm and controlled, coupled with that glare in your eye as you folded your arms. "Lest I file a complaint in the register."
"Over what? Looking good?" Toji teased.
You huffed. Snapping your sharp stare over to Sukuna who was all but waiting for it. Red eyes held yours in nonchalance. With a hint of something dangerously close to amusement. Admiration.
"You're the captain of the rugby team. Be an example to your teammates, Ryomen."
Oh, there's that tone he loved. That strict, smooth command that sent a shiver up his spine. He bit back a smirk.
Yeah, you all had your roles. And yours was maintaining order and, by the looks of it, eye-fucking him in the middle of the hallway.
"Yes Ma'am." He nodded, pushing himself from the locker to stand at his full height. Towering over you just to see if you'd flinch.
You didn't, of course. You never did. You held his stare with an arched brow and your chin never downturned. That's what he liked about you. A bold brat through and through.
"C'mon you two. One last class before practice." Sukuna nudged at Satoru's shoulder who was a little too preoccupied with the sliver of your thigh peeking out of your skirt. The sight clenched Sukuna's jaw, but he bit back comments in favour of wrangling dumb-and-dumber.
Halfway down the hallway, and yet, he could still feel your eyes. Pierced into his spine. He couldn't help but shoot you a glance over his shoulder. Meet that controlled stare that always rivalled his.
Guess it's the one time he let the stereotypes get to him. He wondered how much you'd keep up that bratty beauty if he had you under him.
The thought of you had grown from annoyance to arousal months ago. The perfect president with her commands as sharp as crystal and her glare prettier than them. Always proper. So poised.
He wondered what it'd take to break that little attitude.
Although, if he's being entirely honest. He was kinda into those mint manicured nails that always pointed at him. Not to mention that stare? How you tried to pretend that it never lingered on him?
He saw you again at practice. Even with the sun glaring his vision and his throat burning for water. Sweat dripping down his forehead as he chugged down a bottle.
You were impossible to miss. Even in his exhaustion. Strutting along the outer corridor. Probably on your way to file in reports while others called it a day.
He caught your stare, as he always did. Felt it creeping up his back and shoulders.
Just like in the hallway, he shot you a look. Locked eyes. Only this time, he cast you a little grin.
You turned away. Like the stubborn brat he was hopelessly attracted to.
Nothing beat the rush of a whistle whipping through the air and a successful try on the final second. 50 - 46. Another win by the skin of their teeth.
The cheers of the stadium, the flashing lights, the bruised and battered arms of teammates that tossed around each other as an excited roar ripped through haze. Yeah, nothing beat that.
Well, the celebration that came after was a close second.
Stars of the league once more, Sukuna's team was treated to relax. He'd say for once, but other than training, his band of misfits hardly did much. Slacking-off was their everyday. But at least they'd earned it this time.
The blaring cheers had blurred out into the blast of music. Rhythm and beat vibrating the college assembly hall cleared out just for them. Littered in bodies and alcohol. The coach saw to them well, organised everything with the student council beforehand since he never doubted the team once.
Flashing lights. Grinding bodies. More booze than a Shibuya pub. Sukuna migrated through, his sharp shoulders finally sagged. Spotting some of his teammate with either their tongues down throats or chugging down red solo cups still floating beer pongs.
Steering through the crowd and shrugging off a drunk Satoru who tried to harass him as per-usual, he searched for the drink table. He was far too sober for this celebration. Shitfaced and slurring was what he wanted to be by the end of the night. He deserved it for being able to wrangle the hooligans he called teammates all semester.
And then, he felt it. That stare creeping up his spine.
He glanced to the left and sure enough— there it was. Calm and collected. Calculated even out of that blazer pressed with pristine in every inch. A black dress hugged and complimented your features far better. Certainly more than three fingers above the knee. Not so dignified with a drink in your hand.
Not even your posture was refined— you leaned against the drink table. One arm still folded over you, shoulders still squared.
You stare still on him.
Oh, his night just got a whole lot better.
"How irresponsible, prez." Drawled Sukuna as he stepped up beside you. Snatching one of the cups into his large hand and propping himself next to you.
Deep maroons roved your figure. The curves and dips in all the right places. Damn, he was almost jealous of that dress.
His head quirked with the corner of his lips. "It's a good look on you."
"Don't start." You scoffed a chuckle, raising the red plastic to your lips. Was that lipstick? Red. He could get used to his favourite colour on you.
It was almost uncanny. Seeing you so relaxed. Drinking. Completely out of your element and yet still poised in every right. It thrummed something deep within him. Dark.
He watched your eyes rake over him in what he could only describe as shameless with the flashing shadows obscuring it. You asked, "shouldn't you be celebrating with your team, Ryomen?"
"Sukuna." He corrected, just to watch your eyes. Watch your shoulders that tensed all the more firmer. As if it would break conduct to call him by anything familiar.
His smirk curled higher, as he slumped back with a swig. "And nah. Not when there's a pretty girl all alone back here."
Gauging your reaction, Sukuna bit a grin into the plastic rim of his cup when he noticed you cleared your throat. Where's all that confidence now, huh?
". . .Could it be that the elusive rugby captain is flirting with me?" You mused.
Something ticked within him.
His hulking body slanted, angled towards you as he propped a forearm on the table. Watched as you turned to him, almost hesitantly.
"Could it be that the uptight princess president is entertaining me?" He returned.
Your nose curled, the lights flashed over your face just in time for him to catch the wrinkles. A smile trembled over your lips. "Princess, huh?"
"Got a problem with it?
"Watch it. I'm still your president."
"Dirty talking already?"
Sukuna watched as your breath hitched. Bickering with him often came with ease, but it was a whole different ballgame when he shifted the playing field from president and delinquent to a jock and a princess.
It was amusing, to say the least. Watching you struggle for a rebuttal. You bristled when you finally found something. Straightened your spine with that manicured finger of yours so ready to point at him as you always did—
Thump!
"What the hell!"
"Ah— sorry. Soorryyy."
Alcohol seeped into the front of your dress. Clinging to the dark fabric and permeating the shimmers. A drunken smile was your only apology.
Sukuna stood straight. Shot a glare at his wobbling teammate who'd just bumped into you and ruined that pretty dress of yours.
"For fucks sakes Fushiguro," he grunted, watching as Toji lifted his hands up in surrender and then staggered elsewhere before he could get a scolding.
Turning back to you, Sukuna watched as your jaw tightened and your hands balled at your sides. Was that a pout? Cute.
"Sorry about that," he caught himself apologising when you looked up to him with batting eyes. The light flashing over the both of you in what he could only describe as fluorescent fate.
The idea came quicker than a smother tackle.
"If you need a change of clothes. . . " he almost caught himself drawling. As he stepped forward. You didn't flinch. You never did.
But it looked like you wanted to.
"Maybe I can offer a shirt? Sure I can find one for you back in my dorm."
Your stares locked, as they always did. Rivalling, controlled. Two leaders fighting for dominance as always. Only this time, you were faltering.
He watched your shoulders sag. Your arms cross over your chest tighter. Your chin still lifted but your lips pressed in a thin line.
Sukuna would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised when you actually agreed.
You looked prettier under his cheap dorm light.
Standing in the middle of his room with your legs too pressed together and your arms folded too tight. Your stare still seeped into his shoulders as he dug through his wardrobe on the far right. Looking like a fish who willingly crawled onto land and forgot she only knew how to swim.
Sukuna's dorm wasn't anything grand. His scholarship paid for privacy, not for space. The bedroom bled into a small kitchen area on the left separated only by a small counter top. A cramped couch wedged against it. On the right was his cabinet with a door that led to the bathroom. The bed laid at the centre with a singular side-table beside it.
Small, but neat. Neater than anyone would expect some jock's room to be, he's sure.
Finally, he fished out a red shirt. He could have gone for the black, maybe the white, but that deep rouge on your lips was his favourite colour. And he wanted to see you in more of it.
"This fine?" He asked as he approached, dropping the shirt into your hands that scrambled to catch it.
You pressed your lips together. Held the clothing article up by the sleeves to observe it. Flickering your gaze between him and the red.
"It's. . . big," you murmured.
And oh, poor you. There weren't any eyes anymore to hinder him. No bubbling hallways. No delinquents and presidents.
Just a jock. And a princess.
"Well I'm a big guy, princess." His head crooked in a predatory curve as his hands shoved into his pockets. The name slipped from his tongue. Easy. As easy as it seemed to fluster you, by the looks of it.
He watched you bristle again. Chew your lip and glance at the drywall as you balled the red fabric against those once perfect manicured nails that were beginning to look like they trembled.
Cute.
"Well— yeah, that's true." You stood straight once more. Uttered something that sounded like a thank you before you shuffled to the side. Not quite putting space between the both of you. But not exactly approaching him, either.
You cast him a side eye. Brought the shirt closer like it was your new knight. Poor princess.
"Are you gonna, uh, give me a moment?"
"Not unless you want me to watch?"
Flushed. Again. Like a flustered little flower with your face blooming in heat. How odd. Where's that beautiful brat that pointed and paraded in the halls?
"What?" Sukuna drawled, taking another step forward. Towering over you as he always did. You didn't flinch. You never did.
But fuck, it might have looked cute if you did right now.
"Don't tell me that the esteemed president is actually considering it?"
His voice dripped with something other than booze. Something scarily sober. Something dangerously close to want.
Want. Yeah, he's always wanted the prestigious campus princess.
"That's— that's not what I said," you stuttered. Actually stuttered. You, the poised president with your commands as sharp as crystals and your glare prettier than them. Stuttering all because the delinquent you eagerly pointed fingers at finally got you alone.
He grinned, glinting more than the usual charm back at you. "Didn't have to, princess."
"What's with that name?"
"What?"
He was right in front of you now. Close enough to hear the stutter of your breath. Feel your nerves. The shivers. Not very perfect of you, was it?
Leaning down, Sukuna established the height difference once more. His broad shoulders casting a shadow over you as his grin loomed closer. Dangerously so.
He could smell your perfume. Cherry mixed with nervousness. Hear the stutter of your heart. Every clear of your throat as you scrambled to resurrect the status-quo. When you could stare him in the eye and shoot him a command without your knees trembling.
His murmur was low, inviting. "Seems you don't mind being my princess one bit, yeah?"
Finally, he let himself touch you. A calloused thumb stroking your cheekbone. Oddly tender. Promising something rougher.
Your eyes gaped. Wider than he'd ever seen them. Confidence drained into your wobbling knees and your hands that clung to the shirt.
He paused for the first time that night.
Watched your sorry excuse for a stare. The press of your lips. The tremor that felt foreign to your dignified strut down the college hallways. This was far from the brat he fantasised you would be when he got you alone.
Sukuna's head crooked. "What's with that look?"
"Sorry. . . . I just, uh." You chewed your inner cheek. Cute, but odd for someone like you. ". . . Haven't. Done anything like this before."
He blinked.
Spoke in that terribly stark way.
"You a virgin?"
"Must you be so blunt?"
A pink brow arched. He slowed another blink at you and watched your every move. Watched your throat bob and your shoulders sag as a shaky sigh passed your red lips. It didn't look so bold under his stare.
"Yeah— yeah I am. I don't really have time for this kind of. . . " you motioned to him and how close he was. To his hand that was now cupping your face. "Thing."
He's dealt with virgins before. Had many doe eyes and shaky hands under his belt. So why'd you go under his radar? How hadn't he noticed the signs before? He'd been so swept up by your smooth voice and controlled stare that he completely slipped the possibility that the uptight college princess was—
"Sorry if that's. Like a turn off, or something."
Your murmur cut his thoughts right off. He locked stares with you once again— or at least tried to. For once, you couldn't meet his eyes.
Sure, it wasn't what he was used to. Wasn't what he expected. But honestly?
The thought of the uptight student council president being awfully inexperienced stirred another fire within him. Something deeper. Darker.
Wouldn't it be fun to corrupt a princess?
"Hardly," he scoffed, his grin settling into an arrogant smirk as his free hand slipped down. Snatched you by the waist and dragged you against him in a rough pull.
You yelped. Dropped the shirt and scrambled your hands for the one on him instead. Damn, even the way you clung to him was pretty.
That crystal stare of yours had melted into soft edges as you batted your eyes up at him. Achingly adorable for the pain in his ass you had been for the entire semester.
Cupping your face firmer, he drew you closer. Pressing every perfect inch of you into his callouses.
His voice rumbled, "you ever kissed anyone?"
Your brows furrowed. Warmth spread through his chest at the familiar sight. There's his beautiful brat. Bristling as your fingers bunched tighter on him and you huffed.
"Obviously! I'm not that—"
His mouth shoved to yours. Rough lips sealing over your cherry ones as the hand on your waist squeezed. Feeling your softness against his jagged. Your innocence to his experience. The way you squirmed— whether trying to get closer or further, he wasn't sure. He didn't think you quite knew either.
It was funny, really. How snarky you were with that tongue of yours. Now? It trembled. Fumbled. Struggling to keep up with his kiss as he leaned into your space and flushed you into him.
Your hands slipped to the top of his shoulders. He felt your nails scratching into the skin there through his shirt. Manicure nervous where it once was confident.
The whimper was what forced him to part. Already missing your warmth as his hand on your face slipped to the back of your neck. Cupping, caressing.
"No, no. Not like that." He coaxed, dangerously soft as he peered at you through hanging lashes. His thumb traced over your pulse, reassuring. "Relax. I've got you."
He felt your body lock up against him— then ease. Felt the flutter of your heart against his and the gulp under his thumb.
No words. Just a silent stare. A small nod. Sukuna guided you back in. Still rough, but slower. His lips moulding over yours and easing you into the kiss. Giving you room to breathe. Room to feel.
The hand on your waist slipped. Arm hooking around the small of your back and hoisting you closer. Impossibly so. To feel that sigh of relief that eased out of you and the melting of your muscles.
"Atta girl," the words muffled against your lips before he could overthink them. As if it was natural to hold a pretty virgin in his hands and corrupt her with guidance. Maybe. Or maybe it was just you. The fact that he got to take control for once.
Hot kisses smeared from your mouth. Along your jaw. Down your throat. Both hands roved over your sides now. Feeling the dress that clung to you in all the right places. The body you hid under pristine uniform.
"Can't believe you were holding out on me, princess." He groaned, breath fanning your pulse. A shiver ran up his spine as your fingers delved into his messy hair. Scratching a bit on the undercut only to rake through the fluffy strands.
Your small sighs of bliss were everything to him. For once, you were quiet. No sharp reprimands. No cool commands. Just quiet. Just his. His pretty princess in his arms as his mouth poured fire into your veins.
Big hands smoothed over your hips. Venturing behind. Cupping your ass. Squeezing. Your little yelp rumbled a husked chuckle from the back of his throat.
His teeth dragged over your pulse. Nipped. "Can I?" His fingers flexed with his desire.
You nodded.
"Words." He firmed, with a small swat! to your ass just to feel you jolt again.
You squeaked. "Yes— yes."
Your thighs bundled in his hands. Fitting perfectly. Like you were made for him. With ease, he lifted you. Nudged your legs around his waist as his mouth found yours again. Hotter. Messier. Banking on your fumbling to spur the kiss into desperation as he carried you back.
Sukuna wanted to say he tossed you onto his bed. But he was gentle. Achingly gentle. Tipping you back into his sheets and roaming your shivering body with his eager hands.
He withdrew with saliva this time. Locked eyes with you to make sure you saw the sinful string. Grinned when you flushed again and tried to avert your stare.
"Eyes on me." He ushered, cupping your chin.
You struggled. You, the studious student council president, struggling to hold his eyes for once. But you managed.
He drawled. "Good girl."
Then pressed a chaste kiss to your smeared lipstick and ruined it all the way back down your neck. Tracing your shivers as his fingers slipped below your waist. Over your hips. Teasing your thighs. Until he hooked into the hem of your dress.
"Let's take care of this mess, yeah?" He muttered into the crook of your throat. Sliding the fabric up. Slow. Slower when he got to your hips. Your tummy. Your breasts— over your head. Until you were laid bare before him aside from your underwear.
Red, too.
Sukuna arched his brow. "That your favourite colour? Or is it just for me?" A hand traced down your side. Cupped it so that his thumb could trace over the corner of your bra. Right over your tit. His hands were big enough to encase them entirely.
He watched you through lidded-eyes. Watched as you tensed. As you shivered. Chewing your lip when you were unable to hurl back a rebuttal.
He could get used to this darling side of yours.
A kiss atop your breast. Then the other. He pulled one out of your bra to circle his thumb on the pebbled nipple. Only to replace it with a kiss when you grew too sensitive.
You squirmed. Whimpered. Sensitive. Guess you really were a virgin. The confirmation thrummed something dark within him. Ticked his smug smirk back to his lips that dragged further down. Over the valley of your breasts. To your tummy.
You twitched when he reached your thigh.
"Fingers or mouth?" He mumbled into the softness of your inner thigh. Long finger hooked into the waistband of your panties as he stared back up at you. "Pick your poison, princess."
"I— uhm. . ." Your breathing was shaky. Fluttered. Like a poor little bird as you squeezed your thighs together— he wedged them apart with a huff.
"Fingers. . . I think."
Such a soft croak. Nothing like the girl he knew you to be. Not a prestigious president when you were under him. Drunk on his kisses and trembling from his touches.
No, here? You were just his princess.
"Tell me what feels good," he whispered, eyes locked on yours even as you struggled to hold his stare now. Fingers slipping from the waistband to your centre. Featherlight as he stroked on your thigh. Nursed the shivers there together with his mouth in softer than expected kisses.
Before he reached your soft heat. Brushed over your clothed slit. Up, down. A small stroke of his thumb. Testing. Teasing.
The damp spot tugged his smirk wider. His thumb pressed into it. Just a little firmer. A little hotter. Stroking up to nestle under the crook of your finger. Circle just right—
You pitched a whine.
"There?" His murmur fanned your tummy. Your little nod squeezed something in his heart as he circled his thumb again. "Mmm. Y'know what that is, pretty?"
"I— Yeah. . . mnn. My clit—"
"That's right," he cooed. "Feels good when someone plays with it, huh?"
Filth dripped from every words. Sought to seep into your veins and corrupt your perfect little soul. Now wouldn't that be a sight? To taint the pinnacle of perfection you always were.
After massaging over your clothed cunt enough to soak through the fabric, he hooked two fingers into the corner of your panties. Dragged them to the side to finally— finally get a look at the other girl he'd been waiting for all semester.
Wet. Sopping. Dripping a cute little leak down your sensitive slit. All for him.
"Wet lil' thing for a virgin, aren't you?" The vibration of his voice seemed to spill more of your arousal, and he chuckled at the sight. Repeated the cycle until you squirming with a small, pitiful whine.
"I've gotcha, princess." His thumb swiped over your slick. Over your clit and slit in a slow, agonising stroke that wrecked your thighs into a squirm.
"Ryo—"
"Sukuna." His thumb trapped your clit. "I'm playing with your pussy right now. You call me Sukuna."
His free hand shot out. Ambushing your wriggles and holding you still against his mattress for his hand to work between your legs. Maroon eyes pouring heat into yours as he locked your stares. Forced you to maintain it.
"Su—" you croaked, stirring under his grip as his thumb became two fingers that stroked you oh so sinfully. "Kuna. . . mngh."
"There you go," he praised, soaking his fingers in your slick just a little more. Before he circled your slit with his index. Prodded. Tested. "If it hurts lemme know. Just. . . feel."
A kiss to your tummy. A distraction. As his thick finger slowly slipped inside. Breaching your gummy velvet that clamped around his knuckle immediately.
The sound that left you was pathetic. Nothing like the president he knew. Just his pitiful princess who squeezed her eyes shut and clambered at his broad shoulder.
He paused his hand. Waited. Feeling the pulse of your walls and the tight clamp around only one of his fingers. What a little thing you were.
"Princess," he cooed. Dragging his index out. Slow. Agonisingly slow— watching the stickiness glint on his finger before he pumped it back to the knuckle. Curled just right. "If you're clenching s'much round just one fingers how're you gonna take my dick?"
You whined. Pretty. Pathetic. Your hips trying to buck into his finger that eased into a languid pace. Steady as he worked you open. Got you used to the feeling.
So silky. So soft. Spilling all over and he hadn't even given you two yet. The sight of your pussy clenching around his knuckle grumbled a groan from deep within him.
"Pussy's so eager to get her cherry popped," he muttered, pressing another finger to your slit. Waiting, working you open. Just a little further, a little more—
Your head fell back as two of his beefy fingers slipped into you.
"S'kuna. . ." you croaked. Blinking those big eyes at his ceiling as your chest rose quick. Falling in stutters. Struggling to breathe. Your nails slipped from his shoulder to his elbow. Trying to hold him. Trembling.
"Sshhh, I've got you. Doing so good." The hand holding you down stroked up your thigh. To your side. Caressing so tenderly as his fingers pumped slow yet filthy. Stretching you out on just his middle and index. Leaking your stickiness all over his palm and wrist. Fuck.
"Messy girl." Another kiss pressed to your taut tummy. He pumped back into your squelching pussy a little harder. A little faster. When he gouged you could take it. When your moans told him you wanted more.
He observed you. The scrunch of your face. The knit of your brows and the way your lips parted. Whines mixing into whimpers mixing into moans. Thighs tense yet squirming. Into him. Away from him. Causing his fingers to bump and grind on several sensitive spots within you.
He curled. You croaked. Bucking your hips down into his palm in a display he could only describe as need. That neediness poor little virgins broke out into when they learnt what true pleasure was.
He grinned. Curled his fingers again. Searched for a spot— there.
"Fuck— there," you whined.
"Here princess? Righhttt here?" He drawled, fingers circling that gummy spot until your spine lifted off of the bed and he had to return to holding you down. "Oh, there it is." His fingers thrust. Once— twice— maddening. "That's the spot. The one that's gonna make you cum for me."
Spilling. Messily, helplessly. Your pussy soaked him with every pulse. Spasming when his thumb finally joined the mix. Flushed to your clit and stroked as his fingers found a fast pace. Pumping mercilessly and working you up to that first orgasm.
"I— 'm gonna. . . fuck, kuna—" you whimpered, teary. One hand fisting the sheets while another shot to his wrist, clinging to him feebly. "Gonna. . . I'm—"
"Gonna cum?" His grin smooched your tummy. Fingers worked faster. Stroking deadlier. Right into that spot as he swirled your clit. He watched your face. Watched you break.
"Yeah you are. Cum for me baby."
Your body bowed. Obeyed him. For once. Cunt clamping around his knuckles. Quivering into pronounced throbs as a sob crossed with a whine spilled from your lips.
Sukuna watched your body submit to the orgasm. Shaking in thralls of pleasure as your hips mindlessly ground into his hand that had long since stopped. Fingers curling and rubbing into that spot along with your pitiful grinds to ride you through your high.
His pretty president. Just a pathetic princess. Cumming all over his hand.
"There you go. That's it, just feel it. Lose yourself." He swirled your clit one more time for good measure. Just enough to feel it twitch weakly against his callous.
His fingers slipped out. Coated in your slick. He brought them to his mouth without a second thought. Watched you through the haze of your orgasm and how your eyes still tried to find his even when you were wrecked.
His tongue flicked out. Laved over your wetness as he held your stare. Made sure you watching him enjoy the mess that he had made you. The taste on his tongue. Fuck—
Sweet. So fucking sweet.
"Always knew you'd be so sweet." He huffed, breaths heaving as he took the moment to observe you. The far cry that he had broken you down into.
So pretty when you were ruined. Just as he thought you'd be.
But still speaking, it seemed.
"Sukuna. . ." you murmured, trying to look up despite your rattling thighs and your shaky breath. Your grip returned to his shoulders. Clinging to him.
"Want. . . wanna make you feel good too," your legs hooked around his waist. Squeezed. Oh fuck.
He shut his eyes. Reran your words in his hazed mind. How could he ever deny you?
"What an eager princess." His hands snatched you by the waist. Swung you over so that you squeaked at how easy it was for him to manhandle you.
Propped in his lap like a pretty thing like you should be. Slotted so perfectly and wedged against his burning bulge. Nudged just right into your messy cunt and dragging the slick all over his jeans. Seeping through and soaking into him.
His eyes fluttered. A grunt forced between his teeth as his hands splayed over your waist. Clamping down and grinding you into the rough rolls of his hips.
A large hand found your face again. Cradled it so gently while his body worked animalistically. "Yeah? Want me to feel good too? What're you gonna do for me?"
His lips fell back to yours. Smothering your answer into pretty little whines. His tongue ventured in this time. Dominating you in every way he could. Searing his mark into you. His princess. His.
"I— hngh. Kuna."
"You gonna whine like a brat? Huh?"
"Mngh."
His hand slipped behind you. Palmed your ass and squeezed it. Pressing you firm into him to spur the sparks between your crotches. Rubbing the heat into something feral until you were both bucking messily.
Hot kisses laved your neck. Over your throat. Your pulse. Sucking hickies in his wake as he caught your clit on the rift of his erection. Grinding just right until you whined his name in that prettily pathetic way again.
"Fuck," his huff fanned your jugular. "Gonna fuck that pretty pussy so good. Make her all mine."
Rough hands dwarfed yours. Encasing them as he dragged your fingers to his belt. Pressed them into the buckle with the demand clear in sight. The promise of what was to come. What he'd do to you.
Your hands froze.
So did he.
With a tender consideration so uncharacteristic of him, Sukuna pulled from your neck. Nudged you to face him. "Hey," his thumb pressed to your cheek. "You okay?"
Your eyes tried to avoid him. He saw it. Dragging your stare back to him at least three times before you finally held it again.
"I. . . I just. . . I don't know if I—"
His eyes softened.
"Nervous?" He murmured.
You stiffened. Unblinking. Before you cleared your throat and slowly, so achingly slowly, nodded your head.
Sukuna was no brute. No matter what the stereotypes said. So the little nod was all he needed before his hands slipped back to your waist and carefully pulled you off of him.
"That's okay," the assurance didn't even sound like his voice. Soft, for the elusive rugby captain everyone knew him as. "We don't have to do anything else. You did good."
A kiss to your temple. He felt you ease against him as he sat you on the edge of the bed and got up. Walked over to where you dropped the shirt he'd gotten you earlier and came back to pull it back over your head. Careful. Attentive.
The fabric fell over you. Hanging low like a dress. He couldn't help the quirk at the corner of his lips. Yeah, his colour looked good on you.
"We'll get you cleaned up in a bit. You're gonna need some water."
"I. . . thanks. Thank you."
"For being a decent human being?"
He scoffed at your big eyes. Long arms caging you in on the edge of the bed as he observed you. Your pouting lips and tear-streaked face.
Fuck. He could get used to this.
"Don't get to used to it," the tease fanned your lips. Just to hear that hitch in your breath again.
The pretty, prestigious president. His pitiful princess. All softness to his callouses and tender to his roughness.
His thumb and forefinger caught your chin. Nudged it up.
"Next time, I won't let you run away, yeah?"
A rough peck to your lips. It sounded like a threat, but when he pulled back, there was no denying it. The affection in his eyes.
The affection for you. His pretty pain in the ass.
ᘏ𐑼 [draft repost] the claw machine ノ choso.k x reader ꒰ m.list ꒱
Choso was obsessed with the idea of winning this stuffed toy since you passed by that claw machine. The lights and various colorful prizes had caught your attention to the point of stopping in the middle of the street.
"Oh...it’s adorable..." you murmur while batting your long eyelashes. Your gaze fixing on a plush that strangely resembles your boyfriend.
This gives him a soft smile.
He takes out his wallet and pulls a few coins from it, which he slides into the slot of the machine.
The lights come to life. The game begins.
You encourage him.
And even focused, he loses.
Every time...
You notice the disappointment in his eyes, the tiny tremor in his lips. And somewhere in your chest, your heart breaks.
"Anyway, it’s a scam..." do you console him by affectionately kissing his cheek.
And then what’s the point of having a stuffed toy when you have the official version in your arms ?
note :: Another repost because I don't have any time to write...
-> this is a repost from my old account ( @/aeriine ). I'm not stealing it or anything like this 🙂
You are imprisoned between Sukuna's four muscular arms.
His fingers activate on all the sensitive areas. Feet, hips, armpits, ribs. Everything goes there.
It is as touching as exciting.
"You said I was cute. You made fun of me, it’s your punishment." He hums with a smirk.
You’re not dreaming.
The king of curses takes pleasure tickling for you.
One cannot help but laugh and find him even cuter.
note :: I am reposting this for my friend @kiikuna as an archive since she will deactivate her acc. Don’t worry, she literally asked me to do it, I don’t steal her work <3
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ᘏ𐑼 [repost] shopping with bf!sukuna ノ sukuna x fem!reader ꒰ m.list ꒱
Honestly, Sukuna didn’t really appreciate the idea of accompanying you for the seasonal sales. You promised it would be funny but your excitement was not mutual.
His weekend was supposed to be quiet and restful. Eventually he ended up in one of the most crowded areas of Shibuya. He agreed because you promised him a compensation, especially not because he loves you a little too much - yes, let’s leave him in his love denial.
So you spent the afternoon dragging him around the local shopping streets. You stopped at least thirty times in front of a display case, analyzing it and its content. But without ever bothering to enter the shop.
“Women and their stupid shopping”, he meant it, he couldn’t help thinking so when he was in that kind of situation right in the middle of the city.
And fortunately for Sukuna’s nerves, a shop finally catches your attention - finally.
In front of the fitting room, he was patiently waiting for his darling’s return, his beautiful red eyes placed on the screen of his phone, his finger scrolling through videos to pass the time.
And then you came out of your cave, dressed in a bold color set. You wore that adorable little mixed pout that you only do when something really bothers you.
He notices it, obviously. What an attentive man !
“A problem my queen ? ” he said while putting his phone in his back pocket, ready to listen to you.
You were frowning, focused. Was this problem that important ?
“This color doesn’t suit me, does it ‘Kuna ?”, You stare at him, so fixedly that he feels obliged to answer. A wave of heat then reaches the face of the great Sukuna.
“I’m not a stylist..."
Oh.
"...but I think it really suits you...” , he says it like that, without flinching and so quickly that one can no longer dispute his frankness
You ended up buying this set and Sukuna got the right to his reward by coming home.
Women and the joy of shopping.
📎note :: happy monday with Sukuna 😌☝️
-> this is a repost from my old account ( @aeriine ). I'm not stealing it or anything like this 🙂
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