#mating press

You can't recall a time in your life where you had sweat this much. The baby hairs on your forehead feel like they've been merged to the soft skin of your forehead like glue.

With your heartbeat going a thousand miles a minute, you are almost a hundred percent sure that if you glanced down at your chest, you would be able to physically see your beloved organ thumping in and out of your skin like a cartoon.

Soft groans leave your lips as you continue your mental and physical exertion. You glance over your apartment for the umpteenth time tonight, the soft glow or ten or so candles illuminating your space.

You take a deep breath in, the warm and comforting scent of vanilla and lemon drift through the air, tickling your senses. But having no amenity to your shaky nerves and sweaty palms.

It was meant to make the scene romantic, calming, so far it was doing an absolutely terrible job.

Off reflex, your eyes shift to the dusted-circular vintage styled clock that rests just above the crinkled cream paint of your wall.

The time 8:27 registers in your mind as you squint to read it, your mind recognizes that your boyfriend should grace the frame of your front door any minute now.

Almost as if on key, the familiar sound turning and clicking of the metal keyhole, bounces off the drywall of your living room. This is what you’ve been waiting for.

He’s home.

You watch as the door shoots open, all 6 feet and 4 inches of your beloved corn-fed farmalien farmboy stand in your shared doorway.

He stands and stares at you, hand still on his key in the door, as his eyes slowly register your figure in front of him.

As you stand in the middle of your living room, all shaved, and lathered in your favourite body oils and lotions, wearing the nightgown you had bought as a gag. The thin midnight blue colored silk, sit gracefully on your skin.

The now well-known sign for hope, placed just above your right breast.

Your nipples peak through the material in excitement of the anticipated events of tonight.

He only ever bought you the nightgown because it felt like a little joke between you too. But now, as he stands in the door way, frozen at the sight of you, accidentally squeezing the key in his hand into nothing but a metal rod with his bare hands, he curses himself. He curses the version of himself that just so happened to wander into the mall on an extra long lunch break. The version of himself who caught the familiar crest out of the corner of his eye and thought,

“Huh… maybe she’d like this.”

Because if it weren’t for him, he wouldn’t be standing in front of you, slack jawed, like an idiot. With a raging hard on at the sight of you.

Your eyes drift away from his shocked facial expression, down to the crushed key in his bare hand, then lower, to the ever so prominent bulge in his khaki colored “reporter pants.”

Your audible “gulp” is what breaks the silence between the two of you, for you at least. Clark heard your wet heat slide against the matching blue lace panties you chose to wear, when you glanced down at his pants.

He had never heard something so profound before, he didn’t even know he could do that. He decides to make a mental note for later, to focus on the sound of his co-

“Y-yeah?” He tries, his voice coming out to quiet on his first attempt, obviously because of you.

You shift on your feet before addressing him again, taking just a moment to push down the thoughts of fear that swarmed in your mind like a heavy blizzard.

“Are you gonna come inside or just stand there?” you say the words carefully, a quiet fear festers deep in your mind that he might superspeed away the next time you blink.

“Ah- yes, yeah im, yeah of course”

He takes a moment before responding, then shakes his head at himself once he realizes how silly he must look right now.

This isn't like the two of you.

Well it is like him to be skittish and awkward but it's not like you. You too had a cycle, he would be his normal awkward clumsy farm raised self, and you’d tease him for it.

You wish that you could find it in yourself to crack this sexual tension with a joke. But everytime you try to will your mind towards forming an actual thought, your eyes drfit back down to your Clarks… area. Leaving you speechless.

You had seen it before, of course you had. Like just last week when an artificially intelligent supervillain beat Clark half way into the ground, just when the sun set.

You can still feel the void of fear that burrowed in your heart at the sight of your superman, bleeding into your new cream colored carpet. And of course you had seen it when the lust eventually overtook the both of you, encouraging you to parktake in… other things.

Not sex though, never sex. Until tonight that is.

You slowly moved towards your boyfriend until your chests were touching, and you could feel his rock hard chest against your peaked breasts. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you crane you head up a little, to gaze into those deep blue eyes of his. The only thing that has succeeded for the past something-teen years, in consistently calming your nerves.

You’d always found comfort in Clark. The hint of fresh wheat, layered under a sea of cedarwood sent that had followed him around since primary school. Or the way his eyes bored into yours now, like it looked hard enough, he could see into your mind and reveal what thoughts bubbled in your head.

Taking a deep breath in, you feel the calm that you only ever feel with him. Whether they were calming you before your first fourth grade clarinet assembly, or breathing air into your lungs before you propose your next wild story to your boss. Whatever it was, you would be fine, because you had Clark, your Clark.

“Are you still sure about this? Because I'm not sure I know how to control my powers during uh, I could hurt you.” He speaks in the same tone you spoke to him in earlier, like he’s scared he’ll scare you away. Your thighs subconsciously clench at the thought of being able to make Clark feel so good, he’s unable to control himself.

Now it's your turn to calm him down.

“Clark?”

He sighs before replying, feeling his fears now more than ever. “Yeah?”

“We’ll be fine, you won't hurt me. We've dealt with worse than this.” You joke, feeling his tightly wound muscles release some tension under your soft fingertips.

Clark brings his hand up under your chin, tilting it up towards him at the same he just barely leans over to connect your lips.

You sigh into him, the taste of coffee and a a Clark Kent flood your senses as the two of you try to remove each other's clothes, without disconnecting from each other.

Your mind feels like mush by the time you feel him back you up into the wall, kissing you deeper now, both of his large hands gracing the sides of your jaw.

By the time you blindly stumble into your bedroom, knocking over several items on your way, you are finally out of air. Pulling your face away from Clarks, to pull as much air into your lungs as possible, you give his face a look over again. His lips are flushed with a pinky tint that bleeds into his neck, an effect tended to have on him whenever you kiss like this.

Clark takes this break as an opportunity to set you down horizontally on your shared bed, impatiently ripping the buttons off his shirt in order to remove it before moving to connect your lips again.

He glides his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for access which you grant him by opening your mouth a little wider.

He trails his mouth away from yours, planting messy, lusted kisses to the right corner of your mouth. He continues to travel, his mouth finding the sharp edge of your jaw, before moving over to the side of your neck, just beneath your ear.

Kissing and sucking repeatedly, with your mouth free of his, you moan and whimper into the open space of your bedroom.

The sounds encourage him to grind his clothed bulge over your pulsing, lace covered heat. He groans into the soft skin of your neck, the sensation feeling too good to withhold himself.

Forcing himself to pry his lips off of your neck, he lowers himself down to your lower body. Grabbing a hold of the flimsy fabric, pushing it up to your upper thighs, to reveal your matching underwear. He lets out a sound that is dangerously close to a whimper at the sight of you. Making you eager to see his face. When you drag yourself up to your elbows, giving you a good view of him, you carefully track his movements.

Watching as he hooks a thumb around the lacy fabric, the feeling of his finger against your sensitive skin causing you to shiver, he drags it down your freshly shaved legs.

The sight of your bare cunt rendered his thoughts void. Forgetting what he was here to do, brings his hands to either side, and uses his thumbs to stretch your lower lips. The action gives him a clear view of you, he lets out a sigh of admiration.

Bringing his head closer, he plants a soft kiss against your aching bud, before licking a stripe down your middle, collecting your liquids in the process.

“C-Clark!” his action calls you to call out.

You watch as he brings his face away from you to meet your gaze.

“I’ve waited long enough! take your pants off please” You dont even recognise your tone as the words fly out of your mouth.

Lightly chuckling to himself, Clark leans off of you and begins to lower his own pants.

You take the time to pull the nightgown completely over your head, leaving you completely naked. By the time you had undressed your self, clark had aswell.

Okay, here we go, this is happening, you think to yourself, eyes trained on the length that sprang against your boyfriend's stomach upon release.

You watch him roll the condom over the glistening tip, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him pick up a condom, let alone open one.

Both of his large arms brace his body on the sides of your head, leaning down close enough for his dick to skim along your inner thigh. Your hips squirm at the action, Clark brings a hand from the side of your head and uses it to line his tip up with your entrance.

“Can- hm, Can I?” He asks, tone stumbling as he tries to get the words out.

Unable to speak, you nod quickly as a reply, eyes focused on the crinkle that forms when he draws his eyebrows together in seriousness.

You feel the stretch before anything else, the feeling causing you to wince. Upon hearing your discomfort, Clark stops immediately, dragging his gaze away from where you are connected and up to your eyes.

“Does that hurt? Should I stop?” His worried tone matching his equally worried expression as he speaks to you.

“No don’t, don’t stop” You squirm at the odd sensation, unsure as to why you feel like you need him to keep going, if the action was causing you pain.

Listening to you, he continues to push deeper inside of you, until the majority of his cock is buried in your warmth. The connection causes a strangled noise to leave both of you in synchronization.

“I’m gonna move now, is- are you-“

“Yeah, yes, please start moving baby” The words leave your mouth in a strangled plea and Clark obliges. Beginning to set a steady pace of moving his abnormally long length, in and out of you.

The once painful sensation quickly shifts into a pleasurable one. In response to this, your body squeezes Clark impossibly deeper inside of you.

Bringing his mouth up to kiss yours, Clark is interrupted by a moan that leaves him without his permission, the combined feelings overwhelming him.

“Fuckkk” He moans into your open mouth, burying his head in your neck as his thrust increases in pace.

Clark halts his movements, shifting the two of you into a new position. Before you can question, your knees are up to your chest and he is buried even deeper in you.

The new feeling causes you to moan loudly into his ear, with his cock moving in and out of you at an even faster rate and his base grinding against your sensitive bud, the combined sensations render your thoughts useless.

“you’re, really tight hnghh g-gosh…” he moans deeply into your skin

You couldn’t do anything if you wanted to. You've lost most feeling in your legs, because of his sheer body weight repeatedly crushing into you. Hitting so deep inside you, leaving you unable to form a sentence.

Shifting again, Clark grips the wooden pole bedframe, an attempt to stabilize himself. In his efforts, the bed crumbles on top of the both of you. Even then, his pace doesn’t let up for a second, just shifts. His large muscular frame protects you from debris, while also trapping you under his mercy.

“I- Shit, something- fuck somethings happening. I can’t” his tone worried once again, but his movements show no signs of stopping.

“it’s o-okay, you can come, I… I think i’m close too” You cut yourself off with a loud, pornographic moan, something you were sure you’d be embarrassed about if you could think right now.

Clark realizes that you don’t understand, and he isn’t sure how to tell you about the recognizable heat that is building behind his eyes as his climax approaches. He knows it’s coming, and he knows he should stop. He’ll, he should’ve stopped when the bed came down on both of you, but he can’t”

Pumping into you over and over, hitting that same spot inside you that makes you cry out, you feel yourself bubble over the edge. Crying out as you reach your climax, dragging Clark along with you.

Only this time is different, he’s never felt it like this. His heat vision continues to approach with his release, involuntarily shooting out his eyes as he releases his load into you. His hand shoots up to cover the flame releasing from him, vision obscured with a red heat haze and his hand, his heat vision flashing into his hand for the entire duration of his high.

He whimpers and groans in both pleasure and pain, just barely managing to shield you from the heat of his eyes. After his peak, he squeezes his eyes back shut, bringing both his pain and pleasure to a halt.

Both of you breathe heavily into the other, in disbelief of the events that just occurred. Not exactly how you had imagined it but you still wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Did… did you just?” Your broken voice breaks the silence first.

Clark remains frozen, mortification from his lack of control and the fear of hurting you flood back into his mind as the sex haze over his mind lifts.

On instinct, he raises himself off of you, too quickly. The speed of which he removes himself from you causes a whimper to leave your lips, another thing he curses himself for.

“I am so sorry baby, I don’t, I didn’t even-“ He speaks hurriedly as he rolls the condom off of himself and throws it in the trash. You curl into yourself, weirdly unable to move your legs.

You groaned in response to his apology, you had meant to tell him that what had just happened was the best experience of your life but, unfortunately you couldn’t form that sentence.

Ever so carefully, he brings his hands underneath your knees and neck, slowly lifting you from the broken mess that used to be your bed. Nuzzling into his strong naked shoulder, you blink, and you're in your bathroom.

Dimly lit by candles you had set earlier, you wince as he sets you down on the side of your tub wall, the cold metal feeling uncomfortable on your sticky thighs.

“Clark..” you speak slowly

“Yeah baby?” he over at you from where his head is poked under your bathroom sink, gathering materials to clean you up.

“I cant even move my legs right now” You say with an undertone of amusement in your voice.

The two of you erupt in a soft fit of giggles as you both glance back into your bedroom, the room completely wrecked. Clark moves over to you, kneeling in between your thighs, resting both his hands on opposite sides of your knees.

“Okay seriously, did I hurt you?” He says, doing that thing he always does, looking through your eyes into your thoughts.

“Clark, that was…” you trail off, recapping the events of the night. Leaving your boyfriend in nervous anticipation. “It was?” he asks shakily, in fear that you’ll finally decide dating an alien is too weird for you.

“Fucking amazing, Clark.” You say with a soft laugh.

The corner of his lips tilt up in that familiar dorky little smile that you know so well. “Always so crude…” he says to himself, slowly beginning to clean the liquids off your inner thighs.

Dating Clark isn’t perfect, and it never will be. But you know two things for sure. Number one, is that Clark Kent, Kal-el, Superman, whoever he is… Is your forever.

The second thing you know for sure is, you definitely won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

Two hours later you’re in his bed, sheets already twisted, his mouth between your legs like he’s got all night. He’s so careful—broad shoulders keeping your thighs open, tongue slow and filthy, two thick fingers curling just right. You’re moaning, hips rolling, pleasure coiling tight and warm in your belly, but you know how this ends. You always know.

“Bucky,” you gasp, fingers in his hair, “you don’t have to—”

He lifts his head, lips shiny, eyes dark. “I want to. Let me take care of you, baby.”

You nod, because how are you supposed to say no to that? He crawls up your body, all that beefy muscle and warm skin, cock heavy against your thigh. When he pushes in—slow, thick, stretching you open—you moan loud enough to echo. He feels incredible. He always does. You rock with him, hands on his back, nails digging in as he fucks you deep and steady, murmuring praise against your throat.

“That’s it, sweetheart. So fucking tight for me. You feel so good.”

You’re lost in it, in the drag of him, the way his dog tags brush your chest, the low rumble of his voice. But the edge stays just out of reach, same as always.

Then Bucky shifts. He hooks his hands behind your knees and folds you clean in half.

Your eyes fly open.

The press is sudden—your thighs pressed to your chest, ankles by your ears, his massive frame pinning you down so completely you can’t even squirm. He sinks in deeper than you thought possible, cock dragging right against that spot that makes your brain short-circuit. The angle is filthy, overwhelming. Every thrust grinds against your clit and punches straight into the place that’s never been touched like this.

“Oh my god—Bucky—”

He feels it the second you clench. His hips stutter. “Fuck, doll, you’re squeezin’ me so tight—”

You come like a freight train.

It hits you so hard your vision whites out. Your whole body locks up, thighs shaking against his shoulders, a broken cry ripping out of you as you pulse around him, wet and hot and endless. You’ve never come with anyone before. Never. Not once.

Bucky loses it.

His eyes blow wide, pupils swallowing the blue, mouth dropping open in pure stunned lust. “Holy shit—did you just—?” He drives in again, harder, chasing the way your cunt flutters and gushes around him. “You came. You came on my cock, baby. Fuck, look at you.”

He’s grinning now, cocky and wild, sweat dripping down his temple as he fucks you through it, hips snapping sharp and deep. “You just needed it deeper, huh? That’s all it took? My pretty girl been waiting for me to fold her in half and ruin her little pussy?”

You can’t even answer—just whimper and nod, tears slipping down your temples because it feels too good, too much. He groans, low and wrecked, and comes right after you, buried to the hilt, growling your name like a prayer.

After that, everything changes.

The next night he’s got you bent over the kitchen counter, fucking you slow and lazy while you try to finish the dishes you started. You’re close—whining, pushing back on him—but it’s not enough. You know what you need now. You hate how badly you need it.

“Bucky… please…”

He chuckles, dark and knowing, and slows down even more. “What’s wrong, doll? You sound so desperate. Use your words.”

You shove your face into your arms, mortified and aching. “The position. Please. I need—”

He pulls out, spins you around, and scoops you up like you weigh nothing. In two strides he’s got you on the couch, legs shoved up and back until your knees are by your shoulders. The second he sinks back inside you come again—hard, fast, sobbing his name while he laughs softly against your mouth.

“Greedy little thing,” he murmurs, still moving, still hard. “One taste and now you can’t get off unless I bend you in half like a pretzel, huh?”

It becomes your thing.

Every time after that you turn into a whiny, desperate mess the second he teases you with shallow thrusts. You’ll be riding him, hands braced on his chest, bouncing so pretty, and he’ll just smirk up at you.

“You close, baby?”

You nod frantically, hips grinding faster. “Mhm—Bucky—please—”

He grabs your waist, stilling you. “Nah. Not like this.” His voice drops, filthy and sweet all at once. “You need me to put you in position? Need me to fold those pretty legs up and fuck you so deep you see stars?”

You whine, high and pathetic, cheeks burning. “Yes—yes, please, Bucky, I need it—”

He flips you so fast your head spins. Knees to chest, his massive body looming over you, cock sliding back in with one brutal thrust. You come instantly, screaming, nails raking down his back while he fucks you through it with that smug, adoring grin.

“Every damn time,” he growls, hips snapping. “Only come when I’ve got you pinned and open like this. My perfect girl. Say it.”

“I—fuck—I only come when you put me in the mating press—oh god—”

He kisses you messy and deep, still thrusting, still teasing. “That’s right. And you’re gonna keep begging me for it, aren’t you?”

You nod frantically, already feeling the next one building.

Because now you know the truth: you can come. You just need Bucky Barnes to press you down, fold you up, and give it to you deeper than anyone ever has.

“I told you I'd stay with you tonight, didn't I?” There was a softness in his tone that he would murder any of his friends if they ever heard him right now. “That's what we agreed on for you coming tonight. Let me be with you.”

Your chest tightens, in that warm, embarrassing, fluttery way.

He stares at you for half a beat. “Still overwhelmed?”

“A little.”

“Then,” he dips his head slightly, lips brushing against your cheekbones, barely there, barely real, but it sends the butterflies in your stomach in a frenzy. “Stay with me. I'll handle everything tonight.”

You exhale, the previous tension slipping off your shoulders and being replaced with the new shy feeling you usually get around him.

“You're acting all sweet.”

He rolls his eyes, but his thumb strokes a small pattern on the top of your right hand where no one can see. “Don't get used to it.”

“Oh, I'm already used to it,” You say playfully. “You've been nothing but sweet to me since we started talking.”

He huffs, but you didn't miss the faint curve of his lips tilting upwards.

“Come,” he says, lacing his fingers with yours and tugging you gently. “Let's meet Gojo. He's loud and fucking weird, but you'd like him.”

His palm is warm and solid, and the moment his palm swallows yours, a little bit of panic unclenches in your chest. He leads you through the throne of bodies and sounds, pulling you closer to him and guiding you like he's cutting a path through all the drunken chaos that's so alien to you.

The living room spills into the kitchen, where the music dips just enough that people don't need to scream to be heard.

The first thing you notice is a white haired guy with sunglasses on despite him being indoors and being night time. Not because he's making a scene—he's really not. He's leaning against the counter, long legs crossed at his ankles, a drink in his hand and the other waving animatedly to the guy you notice in front of him.

Long dark hair pulled back loosely, relaxed posture, amused smile that looks like it never melts away. He listens with an easy patience, not minding the other guys rambling, occasionally humming and nodding, like he's indulging a familiar habit rather than enduring it.

They seem quite… normal? Not at all how Sukuna was trying to make them out to be.

And then you hear a snippet of their conversation.

“-and I'm, like, just saying,” the white haired man exclaims, dramatically flailing his hand in the air, “if you're going to commit to serving punch that tastes like lighter fluid and paint thinner, you might as well label it as a public health hazard.”

The dark haired guy snorts. “Yet, you've drunk three cups of it.”

“And I don't know why! It tastes like ass and dread!” He pours the liquid down in the sink next to him. “Suguru, go get me another drink.”

“Excuse you, I'm not a dog that answers to your beck and call.” He replies, though, he does reach over to grab a can of Sprite for him.

That earns a soft laugh from you before you could stop it.

Both of them glance up from the sound.

The white haired man's eyes brighten from behind his round sunglasses. “Oh, hey! Didn't think you were real."

What?

Sukuna groans. “Don't.”

“Pay up, Satoru.” The dark haired man, you infer is Suguru, puts his hand out and makes some sort of gesture that makes the other guys fish out some cash from his back pocket.

Sukuna drags a hand down his face like he's already regretting this entire introduction. “For the love of God, tell me you two didn't-”

Satoru beams up at him despite losing money. “I absolutely did. Odds were terrible by the way. No one believed you were actually consistently seeing the same girl.”

Suguru holds his hand out further, “pay up.”

Satoru slaps a couple of bills into his palm. “For the record,” he looks at you, “I did say you were definitely real—I mean, he wouldn't stop talking about you. I just didn't think Sukuna here knew how to keep someone around for so long.”

You blink slowly, ignoring his contradiction to his previous statement, then glance up at Sukuna. “Am I… a special cryptid?”

“More like an urban legend,” Suguru says, finally meeting your eyes with a polite smile. “Satoru thought Sukuna was exaggerating.”

The white haired man shrugs. “He lies about everything. His GPA, his height, his emotional availability. This felt on-brand.”

“You're such a dickhead.” Sukuna says flatly and Satoru quickly quips him with a “language” and “wow, you have no tact to please the ladies”

...Whatever that means.

“So,” he leans in, curiosity glinting behind his tinted sunglasses. “What made you stick around for so long?”

“Careful.” Sukuna warns flatly.

“He's good to me.” You say pleasantly with a smile. “Oh! He also buys me my favourite cakes from the patisserie downtown.”

“Ah, that explains it.” Suguru raises a brow.

“Yeah, that would make me stay too.”

“Don't make it weird.” Sukuna mutters, but his hand settles more securely at your waist.

Suguru reaches behind him and pours some Sprite and something clear into a red cup. “Vodka sprite. Light pour. Consider it a peace offering.”

You hesitate, then take it. One sip, then another. It’s sharp but manageable.

“That’ll make the music less… offensive.”

“It still sounds like construction noise,” you say.

“Exactly,” Satoru points. “You get it.”

He leans closer to you again. “So, just so we're clear, you are aware you're dating the human equivalent of a warning label.”

You take a careful sip of the vodka sprite, the alcohol warming your chest almost immediately. “I read the fine print.”

Sukuna huffs, glaring pointedly at his friends. “Why are you like this?”

Because,” he says cheerfully, “it's very funny to see you whipped for someone.”

“I am not-”

“I mean, it's not like you weren't sneaking her in at night and walking her out early in the morning because you didn't want anyone to see her.”

Satoru slaps his arm in agreement. “Yeah! You're not slick, idiot. We can hear you both.”

Sukuna freezes.

Slowly—very slowly, he turns head to face the two of them. “You two are on very thin ice.”

Suguru only hums, unfazed. “Walls are thin. It is an old house.”

“And you,” Satoru adds, pointing at you accusingly and grinning wide, “are very loud.”

You choke on your drink, face heating up in embarrassment. “Oh my God.”

Sukuna groans like he's physically in pain, his large hand leaving your waist to pat your back to let all your choked coughs out. “I hate it here.”

“That's not what you said last week Thursday at two-forty seven am.” Satoru teases helpfully.

“Stop talking or I'll drag you out by your stupid sunglasses.”

“Ooo,” he grins, playfully fanning himself. “Protective too? This keeps getting better.”

You laugh despite yourself, and Sukuna slides his hand back to your waist and tightens.

Not painful or aggressive at all.

“Alright,” he says, voice low and fed up by his friends. “That's enough.”

“Aw,” Satoru grins like he's won the lottery or something, “are we being dismissed?”

He doesn't dignify him with a response, just waits for you to finish your drink.

“Wait! We were just bonding!”

“Goonight.” Sukuna says flatly, turning your sharply so your back is to his chest, and large arm hooking around your middle like a fucking steel bar. You gasp, more startled than uncomfortable as he guides you away from the kitchen.

“You good?”

You nod, cheeks still warm. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he murmurs. “Because if they say one more word, I’m throwing them off the balcony.”

Behind you, Satoru’s voice carries. “Have fun upstairs!”

Sukuna flips him off without looking.

Sukuna steers you through the kitchen and toward the stairs, his grip never loosening. Every step, he adjusts. Hand firm at your waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind you he’s there, guiding you, grounding you.

Your heart’s doing something stupid in your chest.

“You're-” You glance back, halfway up the stairs. “Are you manhandling me?”

“Yeah,” he replies easily, tugging you closer as if you aren't already flush against him. “You’re walking too slow.”

Your breath stutters. “You don't usually complain.”

“That was before they started running their mouths.”

The corridor upstairs is quieter, the bass from downstairs reduced to a distant thrum that vibrates through the floorboards. Sukuna's hand stays firm around yours as he leads you past several closed doors, each one marked with different name plates and decorations before stopping at the door at the end of the corridor for his room.

He unlocks the door and guides you inside, flicking on a warm lamp he bought after you made a comment about the cool light fixtures he has in his room gives you a migraine. Because of course he uses cool light and instead of warm like a psychopath.

It's surprisingly clean for a frat house bedroom. A large bed with dark sheets, a desk actually organised, weights in the corner, some band posters on the walls. It smells good too, the intoxicating mix of cologne and something uniquely him.

The door clicks shut behind you, the sound small, almost insignificant, but it feels final in an odd way. Like the rest of the house just got muted.

Sukuna doesn't give you time to turn around.

His hand slides from your waist to your hip and pulls, firm and sudden, until your back hits the door behind you with a soft thud. Not hard. Just enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

“Hey-” you start, half a laugh, half a gasp.

He crowds into your space without hesitation, one arm planting itself beside your head while the other stays firm on your hip, thumb pressing in like a quiet reminder that you’re exactly where he wants you.

“You okay?” he asks low, eyes scanning your face for any discomfort.

You nod, a little breathless and jittery. “Yeah- just surprised.”

“Good.” His thumb presses into your hip, grounding and borderline possessive. “Because I’ve been holding back all night.”

Your stomach flips.

“Those idiots,” he mutters, forehead dropping to yours, voice rough with restraint. “Running their mouths. Watching you. Talking about you like you’re not standing right there.”

“They weren't being rude.”

His hand tightens once, just once, before easing. Controlled. Deliberate.

“And then you,” he adds quietly, “standing there smiling like that.”

You swallow. “Is that… bad?”

His lips twitch, but his eyes are dark. Focused.

“No,” he says. “That’s why we’re upstairs.”

He gives you a small smile and he looks so absolutely beautiful it hurts. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” you admit, because lying to Sukuna is always futile.

He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ears, his fingers resting against the delicate line of your jaw. “Of me? Or of what you want me to do to you?”

Your breath catches. "Both."

His laugh is low, dark, appreciative. "At least you're honest." His thumb traces your bottom lip, and your mouth parts instinctively. "I've been thinking about this all night. Watching you in that little outfit, seeing other guys look at you, wanting to drag you up here and undo your dress."

"Sukuna..." His name comes out breathy, needy.

He doesn't say much for a little bit, still revelling in the sight of you pressed between him and his door. “God… I've been holding back since you walked in.”

The kiss hits you before you can process that sentence.

It’s not gentle exactly, but it’s not rough either. All confidence and heat, like he knows exactly where to place his mouth to make your knees threaten to go weak beneath your weight. His lips move against yours. Slow at first, testing, then deeper when you tilt into him without thinking. He hums low in his chest, the sound vibrating straight through you.

His other hand slides up from your waist to your jaw,cradling you as he angles your head just right. You gasp softly into the kiss, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt like you need something solid to hang onto.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your mouth, barely pulling back. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

He kisses you again, shorter this time, breathier, like he’s trying not to lose control completely. His forehead rests against yours for a second, both of you breathing hard.

Then he grips your hand.

“Come here.”

He doesn’t give you time to argue. Just tugs you away from the door, guiding you backward until your calves hit the edge of the bed. You stumble, laughing softly, and he follows you down without hesitation, hands bracketing your hips as you land against the mattress.

The bed dips under his weight as he leans over you, eyes searching your face one more time.

"You tell me if anything's too much," he murmurs against your lips, his hand sliding under the hem of your dress. "You say stop, we stop. Understand?"

You nod, but he pulls back, his expression serious.

"Words, baby. I need words."

"I understand," you breathe. "I'll tell you. I promise.”

"That's my girl." He rewards you with another searing kiss, his hands surprisingly gentle as he undresses you, like he's unwrapping something precious. When you're finally bare beneath him, he sits back just to look at you with an intensity that makes you a bit nervous.

“Don't,” he catches your wrist before they could fly up to cover your burning face. “Don't hide for me. You're fucking gorgeous.”

Heat floods your cheeks, but the way he's looking at you, like you're the only thing in the world that matters, makes you relax into the sheets.

He leans down, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down between your breasts, across your stomach. Each touch of his lips sends sparks skittering across your skin. "Gonna take my time with you," he murmurs against your hip. "Gonna make you feel so good. Is that okay?"

"Yes," you breathe, your fingers threading through the pink hues of his hair.

His mouth finds your breast, tongue circling your nipple before he takes it between his lips, sucking gently. The sensation makes you arch into him with a gasp, and you feel him smile against your skin.

"Sensitive here?" he asks, his hand coming up to palm your other breast, thumb brushing over the peak. "Good to know."

He pours attention on your chest until you're squirming beneath him, soft whimpers escaping your throat. Then he's kissing his way down your stomach, his hands spreading your thighs apart.

"Sukuna-" Your voice comes out shaky, nervous.

He pauses, looking up at you from between your legs, his expression softening. “Say the word,” he says, voice low. “I'll stop.”

"No, I just-" You bite down your bottom lip. "I'm nervous."

"I know." He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, the sharp points of canines grazes your skin as his hands stroke soothingly along your legs. “That’s why I’m right here.” He leans in, mouth brushing your thigh, not rushed, not hesitant either. When he speaks again, it’s closer, rougher, but sure. “Let me make you feel good."

When his mouth finally finds you, the first touch of his tongue makes you cry out, your hips twitching involuntarily. He holds you steady, one arm banded across your hips as he works you with his mouth. Licking, sucking, his tongue doing things that make your vision blur and your heart hammering against your ribs.

"Oh god," you whimper, your hands fisting in his hair. "Sukuna, that's-"

"That's it," he encourages, pulling back just enough to speak. “Don’t hold back. Let me hear it. I need to know what gets that reaction out of you.”

He seals his lips around your clit and sucks, and the sensation is so intense you nearly come apart right there. But he pulls back, keeping you on that edge, building the pleasure slowly.

"Doing so good for me," he praises, sliding a thick finger inside you, and the stretch makes you choke out a broken gasp. "So wet, so perfect. Think you can take another?"

"Yes," you manage, and he adds a second finger, curling them just right as his mouth returns to your clit. The dual sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter.

"That's my girl," he murmurs, his fingers pumping steadily, stretching you, preparing you. "So fucking beautiful like this. Love watching you fall apart for me."

You love this version of Sukuna. The one that only ever shows up in the quiet and just with you.

Around company, he’s all sharp edges and indifference, posture loose like nothing ever really touches him. He doesn’t soften for anyone. Doesn’t bend. Doesn’t bother explaining himself. And you’ve always liked and kind of envied that about him. The way he exists so solidly in himself, unbothered by expectations or noise.

But here, with you bare and beneath him and his body close enough that you can feel the heat rolling off him, that edge turns into something else.

He’s still rough around the edges. Hands firm, grip sure, presence overwhelming in the best way, but there’s a quiet attentiveness threaded through it. The way he watches your face instead of your body. The way his hand presses at your hip like he’s grounding himself as much as you. The way his voice drops when he speaks to you, like the world doesn’t get to hear it.

You feel it most in the pauses too. The moments where he doesn’t rush, doesn’t take, doesn’t assume. Where he leans in just enough to make your breath hitch and then waits, eyes dark, like he wants to see if you’ll close the distance yourself.

He adds a third finger, and the stretch is more intense, but he works you patiently, his mouth never stopping its attention on your clit until you're trembling, right on the edge.

"Sukuna, please-" You're not even sure what you're begging for anymore.

"Come for me," he commands, his voice rough. "Come on my fingers, baby. Show me how good I make you feel."

His fingers curl against that sweet spot inside you, his tongue flicking smoothly, and you shatter with a cry, your body clenching around his fingers as waves of pleasure crash through you. He works you through it, gentling his touch as you come down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs.

"So perfect," he murmurs, slowly withdrawing his fingers. “Always like this for me.” His hand stays firm, possessive. “Stay with me. I’m not done yet.”

You nod, still breathless, watching as he finally strips off his shirt and his jeans and his boxers. He's big—bigger than you expected when you first had sex with him—and the flutter of nervousness returns every time you see it.

He catches your expression and leans down to kiss you softly. "Easy,” he murmurs. “I’m not rushing this.” His hand stays firm, steady. “You’re ready, but I’m taking my time with you.”

"Okay," you whisper.

He reaches for a condom from his nightstand, rolling it on, and then he's positioning himself between your thighs, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. "Look at me," he says softly. "I want your eyes on me.”

He pushes in slowly, and even with all the prep, the stretch is intense. Your fingers dig crescent moons into his shoulder blades as he fills you inch by inch, his jaw clenched with restraint.

"Breathe," he reminds you, pausing halfway. "You're doing so good. Taking me so well. Just breathe for me."

You do, and he slides in deeper, until he's fully seated inside you. The fullness is overwhelming, but not painful. Just intense, perfect.

"Fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to yours. "You feel incredible. So tight, so perfect. You're okay?"

"Yes," you manage to whimper out. "You can move."

He starts with slow, deep rolls of his hips, letting you adjust to the feeling of him. "That's it," he praises. "Just like that, baby. You're taking my cock so well."

But slow isn't enough. You need more. "Harder," you beg. "Please, I can take it."

Something shifts in his expression, that careful control cracking. He pulls out almost completely, then drives back in with a thrust that makes you cry out and feel all dizzy and dazed. "Like that?"

He hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half, and the new angle makes him seep so much deeper. The position leaves you pinned beneath him, bodies locked together as his thrusts grow harder, deeper, impossible to not thoroughly feel.

"Is this what you need?" he asks, voice low and rough, and his pace relentless now. "Need me to fuck you properly? Need me to fill you up?"

"Yes-" the word tears from your throat as he drives into you, the bed frame creaking with each harsh thrust. "Oh God, yes-"

"That's it, take it," he praises, one hand gripping your thigh while the other braces beside your head. "Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking girl for me. You feel incredible, so perfect-"

His words make everything more intense, and you're already embarrassingly close again, your body wound tight. "Sukuna, I'm- I can't-"

"Yes you can," he encourages, his thumb finding your oversensitive clit and circling with just the right pressure. "Come on my cock, baby. Let me feel it. Let me feel you fall apart for me again."

The combination of his words, his touch, the relentless drive of his hips, it's too much. You shatter with a cry of his name, your body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crash through you, even more intense than the first time.

"Fuck, that's it, just like that," he groans, his rhythm faltering as your orgasm triggers his own. "So good, you're so fucking good-" He buries himself deep with a guttural moan, his body shuddering as he comes.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, both breathing hard, sweat-slicked and trembling. Then carefully, he lowers your legs and pulls out, disposing of the condom before collapsing beside you and immediately pulling you into his arms.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his mouth brushes your cheek with each word. "Did I push too far?”

You shift closer instinctively, still catching your breath. “No,” you say, steady despite how spent you feel. “It was good. Exactly right. Like usual.”

A quiet huff leaves him, not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief. His arm tightens around you, firm and anchoring. “Good,” he mutters. “That’s what I thought.”

His hand stays at your hip, thumb pressing in like a reminder, not gentle but not rough either. Possessive in that unmistakably Sukuna way, like he’s claiming space, not asking for it.

“Don’t get it twisted,” he adds after a beat, voice rough against your ear. “I don’t do this for just anyone.”

“I know,” You smile faintly against his chest. “I figured after talking to your friends downstairs.”

He flicks a finger against your forehead, barely hurting you. “Don't bring up other men just after I made you come twice, silly girl.”

There was no heat in his words, just the familiar bluntness you grew accustomed to like.

You huff a quiet laugh, face warm and glowing post-orgasm. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” His fingers, still wet with your slick, presses once at your hip again, grounding. “Just reminding you.”

You tilt your head back to look at him. He’s watching you through half-lidded eyes, expression lazy, satisfied, but alert in that way he always is, like he’s clocking every little movement you make.

You suddenly feel shy under the weight of it. “You’re staring.”

“Yeah,” he says simply. “You gonna live?”

You roll your eyes playfully, tucking your face into his chest. “Barely.”

A low huff rumbles out of him. Amused. “Dramatic.”

Downstairs, the noise swells, reminding you that you're at a New Years Eve party. Cheering, yelling, someone very off-key starting to count early and getting booed into silence.

You freeze. “Wait.”

His brow lifts. “What.”

You lift your head again, listening. “That’s the countdown. I think they’re about to start.”

“And?” His arm tightens slightly, like he already knows where this is going and isn’t impressed.

“You're…” You hesitate, then mumble, “You’re supposed to kiss at the start of the year.”

You shift, just a little, bracing a hand on his chest like you might sit up.

He doesn’t let you.

Sukuna’s arm bands around you and pulls you right back down, firm and unyielding, pressed flush to his chest. “Don’t move,” he mutters, voice low and certain.

“But-”

“Shh.”

The muffled counting reaches ten.

Nine.

Eight.

His hand slides up your side, not roaming, just holding you there, like he’s anchoring you exactly where he wants you.

Three.

Two.

One-

The cheer downstairs explodes.

At the same moment, he tilts your chin up and kisses you. Slow, sure, unhurried. No rush. No spectacle. Just his mouth on yours. Claiming the moment like it was always his to take, slightly tasting yourself from his tongue.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests briefly against yours.

“Happy New Year,” he says.

Your heart feels stupidly full and fluttery.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Happy New Year.”

I think im getting better at writing smut (funny tho as my libido is nowhere to be found siiighhhhh)

happy new year! may 2026 bring love and happiness to you<3

________________________________________

“Oh. My. God.” your best friend said, jaw dropped to the floor as she squealed your name like there's a fire. “You look sooooo absolutely hot!!” you can't help but smile at her remarks. It really has been a while since you got ready except for work.

“You're just saying that so I don't stay home” you teased her.

She glared at you and says, “I'd literally fuck you right now”

“Don't threaten me with a good time” you say, biting your lip. Then you two bursted out laughing.

“Thanks babe, I'd fuck you too.” You said, returning her peculiar compliment.

Looking back again in the mirror, you admire yourself. You're wearing a black miniskirt, with a deep plunge top, your cleavage out and about, black tights, and red bottoms to finish the look. “Damn, I do look good” you whisper to yourself. Fixing your hair and makeup one last time.

“You ready, hottie?” your best friend asked.

“Yep, let's get this over with.”

________________________________________

Loud music entered your senses as you and your best friend walked in the club. You squint your eyes as the lights hit your eyes. It wasn't packed but not empty either, the perfect amount of people for you. “We're lucky, there's literally no people” she said, making you look at her in disbelief but she just laughs anyway.

“Let's get drinks first” you suggested, pointing at the bar.

“Good idea” You guys headed over the stools to sit, waiting for the bartender to take your orders as he fixed someone else's drink.

“Good evening ladies, what can I get for you?” the bartender finally walked up in front of you.

“I'll have a martini, please” you say, giving the bartender a slight smile.

“What about you, miss?” he asked, turning to your friend.

“Cosmopolitan for me!” she exclaimed.

“Impeccable taste, ladies. I'll get it done in 3 minutes” the bartender said as he started to make your drinks.

“This is a strip club, right?” you ask, looking around.

“That's what I told you, yeah” your friend bluntly responded.

“I don't see any of those men” you say, not intending to sound disappointed.

“Ooohh someone's hungry for some good ol' dick I see” she teased, nudging her elbows at your side. “I think they'll come out in a bit, don't worry.”

“I'm not hungry for some dick. I just expected them to be dancing on that stage like right now.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you sayyy” her tone sounding mischievous.

________________________________________

After a few laughs while you two finished your drinks, the stage lit up in red light, matching the red background, white spot lights moving around, and the lively music got switched to a sexy one.

“Oh my god, here they come!!” the girl beside you yelped as she stood from the stool, dragging you to sit in front of the stage.

You sat on the left side of the stage, as the other people occupied the other ones with a better view. Making your best friend pout. “Damn it, we literally got the worst seat. I bet the men in front would be the hottest” she said, shaking her head as you hummed in response.

Or so you thought.

Once the men came out, the one in front of you got your mouth watering. They were all shirtless but he's so distinct. His physique is unbelievably human. He's tall, biceps looking like it can crush your skull, his abs sculpted, big chest, and you can tell his legs are just as big as the rest of him, because his pants are clinging ever so tightly.

Oh, and that fucking face. Green eyes glowing in contrast to the red background as the white party lights hit his face. The visible scar on his lip, making him even more sexy.

You pressed your legs together, silently whimpering only you can hear. “What a man” you mutter to your friend, eyes glued to him.

“Damn, you got your target already. Not my type tho, he's too big for me. I like slanky ones. I'mma go there, you stay here with your man.” she said, pointing at the other man.

“What? No don't leave m—” And she did, leaving you alone on that section of the stage. You smiled a bit at the thought of him being all “yours”.

Once they got into their formation, they started to dance. Their bodies move in rhythm with the music. People started to throw money on stage. Some whistled and shouted, “Take it all off!”

Your eyes, still glued to the man. As he got closer to you, still moving his body to the music, his eyes bore into yours. You panicked and looked away. “You getting all shy on me now, doll? After looking at me like you'll eat me whole?” your eyes snap back, glaring at him. He let out a deep chuckle, making your pussy throb.

“Hmm you got wet, didn't cha?” he said, as he got off stage, along with the other men. The people absolutely loving it, making them squeal like a bunch of teenagers seeing their crushes. Some grinded on them, as they put money in the men's pockets.

“What the fuck? You don't say that to a woman” you said while raising an eye brow

“I know, but we're in a strip club aren't we? And ‘yer obviously enjoying the view as we speak” he said, grinning, your body tensing when he finally got in front of you. His body, rolling to the music, causes his muscles to flex in every movement he executes. “I'll stop if you don't throw me some money” he coos.

You immediately reached for your wallet in your bag, grabbing a few paper bills and handing it to him. “Put it in my pocket” he says, as he grinds his upper body on you, making you feel so small by how massive he is. You put the money in both of his pockets, earning a smile from him. Your heart skipped a beat at his gesture.

“The name's Toji. What ‘bout you, doll?” He said, going behind you, rubbing his toned front on your cold back. You hissed a little from the sudden feeling of warmth from his body, turning your head to look as you told him your name. “Hmm pretty name for a pretty girl”

A few more minutes, then the music stopped. The men halted their dancing. The people groaned and complained for more. Which you did too, internally, at least. Some men stayed on the tables, mingling with the customers, while some went backstage. “Time's up” he said, clicking his tongue.

Toji was about to walk out, but he stopped his tracks when you said, “How much for a night?”

He turned his head to look at you, smirking the fuck out, his scar rising on his face. “I don't fuck customers, sweetheart” Your brows frowned at his response.

“Why not?” you try to sound composed, in which you failed.

He walked back, now standing in front of you. “Cuz I'm a stripper and not a prostitute” he said, tilting his head as his eyes stared deeply into yours.

“Hmm fair enough” you got up from your seat, and straightened yourself. Your face meeting his pecs. Toji backed up a little. “Have a good night, then” you finally say, walking away from him, finding your best friend.

He stayed in his place, his eyes following your figure moving along the crowd, denying the fact that his cock got hard at the sight of you. Toji shook his head and turned his heel as he walked backstage.

________________________________________

You've been searching the whole place for your best friend, but she's nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, your phone chimed.

twin <3 : hey babes, sorry for running on you. I didn't wanna disturb you since it looked like you were having the best time of your life ;)) I'm ‘bout to have some myself. love you, be careful! ♡

You sighed at her message and exited the club to find a taxi.

You walked along the road, the city still alive. Lights flickering on shops, people all dressed up for night out, having the best time of their lives. You sneered at yourself, remembering the embarrassing moment.

You spotted a taxi. You signal the driver as you wait on the road side.

Unexpectedly, before the taxi could even park in front of you, a man held your arm from behind. You quickly turn your body to face him, ready to throw some hands. But– “Toji?”

“Fuck, how the hell did you get so far already?” he said, his chest panting from running. He then went to the taxi driver and apologized for being called, handing a 10 dollar bill. The driver only scoffed.

“Okay, what the fuck is happening?” you ask him, aggravated.

“Your place.”

________________________________________

“Ahhh f-fuckk!” his fingers slid and moved past your panties. Your back against the front door, holding on dearly to his shoulders, your other leg held up by his arm, as he fucks you with his thick digits.

“You're taking my fingers so good, doll. Gotta make sure ‘yer all nice and ready to take my cock, hmm?” he coos, looking down at your whimpering figure. Rubbing his bulge against your leg.

Everything happened all too fast. After giving him your address, the ride was quiet. Toji's eyes glanced at your exposed chest and thighs every now and then, as you nibbled on your lower lip, contemplating whether this situation is a good idea or not. But one thing's for sure.

You need to get fucked.

By him.

“Aughh r-right there!” his finger curled inside your walls, making you arch your back.

“Yeahh? You gonna cum for me, baby?” he said with a grin, then smashed his lips into yours. You nodded your head as you kiss each other desperately. His fingers go iiiin and ouuut of you so easily, making his pace even faster.

“Hmmpp!” you moaned in his mouth, feeling your stomach tighten at the long lost familiar feeling. You held his face and pulled away from the kiss, “T-tojiii I'm gonna— ohh fuckkkk” you cry out, reaching your orgasm.

He bit his lip at the sight of you— mouth in a silent o, chest rising and falling, your eyes going to the back of your head, and your nails digging on his shoulders which will likely leave marks. “Good girl. Let it all out, baby” Toji encourages you, causing your orgasm to last longer.

This is the feeling you've been desperately aching for. No matter what facade you put on, acting like you're not touch deprived. Deep inside, you've been tired of just touching yourself.

“You all right, doll?”

Your eyes fix themselves and look into his green ones. “Y-yeah. I'm fine, it's just that it's been a while since I last— ah!” your words got cut off when he flashed you a grin. His other arm held onto your standing leg, making you straddle his waist.

“Where's your room?” he asked, tightening his hold on you, your chests pressed together. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into his ear, biting it.

“Upstairs, first door on the left.” he hummed as he took heavy and quick steps towards your bedroom. Your mouth moves from Toji's ear to his jaw, giving him soft kisses.

As you take your sweet time kissing his face, you didn't even notice him open the door. Toji slammed both of your bodies onto your soft mattress, his massive body caging you as you're helplessly underneath him. “Look at you, so fucking needy for me. Did ‘ya instantly get wet when you saw me on that stage?”

“Urgh, just fuck me already” your tone sounding infuriated. He chuckled.

“Answer my question first. C'mon, let me hear you say it” you look at him with annoyance.

“Well… y-yeah” you say to him, your eyes avoiding his stare.

“Theeeeeere you go. Besides, a pretty doll like you ain't taking my cock unless I have a taste first.” Toji's hands quickly yanked your top off, releasing your breasts making them bounce off. His eyes glimmer at the sight, mouth going to your boob as if there's magnet to it. Your other boob's not left neglected, toji's hand massaged it, feeling his calloused fingers rub against your soft skin. His mouth goes back and forth on your boobs. Tongue licking your nipple and slightly biting it, provoking you to yelp from the pleasurable pain.

He lowers his mouth to your sternum, eyes locking with yours as he makes his way all the way dooooown. Toji stopped when he came face to face with your clothed cunt. You closed your legs, feeling embarrassed.

“Open up, baby. Let me see you” Toji's hands grabbed both your thighs, parting your legs apart. You then shivered when you felt his breath on your cunt. He smirked when you tensed up, hooking his fingers on your lace panties and taking them off nice and slow. “Eaaaasy baby, I'm not gonna eat you— That's what I'd say if I was lying” he said as he dove right in.

“Mnghhh! ” your hand grabbed his hair when the flat of his tongue lapped up and down your dripping pussy.

“Fuck, doll. You taste so fucking sweet” he says pulling his majestic face away, slightly. Then, both of his hands grabbed the back of your knee and pressed them into your body, exposing your pussy more for all his glory, giving him a nice view of how you clench around nothing. He grunted at the sight as he went back for more.

His tongue circles your puffy clit begging for attention. “T-tojii ahhh!” you cry out when he sucked it.

“Mhmm sho fucking goood” he babbled against your pussy, his eyes never leaving yours. The lewd sounds of licking and slurping echo around your bedroom as he eats you like a man starved for five years. He slides in a finger, continuing to nibble on your clit.

“S-shittt yes! Feels so good— ‘ji ahh” this might just be heaven. Toji adds another finger in, making you completely lose your damn mind. Your legs shake as you can feel your climax build up, for the second time. He curled his fingers inside you again and again, his mouth still glued to your clit as you finally reached your high. ‘Ohhhh! Keep goingggg”, your hips buck around his face, as he licks up every drop of your sweet juices.

Your body calms when he moves away from your pussy, sitting up on his knees. Not long enough, when his thumb rubbed with your now sensitive nub. You flinched when he pressed harder as he drew circles. “T-too muchhh!” you sobbed, eyes watering from overstimulation. Your quivering legs quickly shut, but his hand is still on your pussy. He continued to torture your clit, urging you to cry. “P-pleaseee no more” you whimpered, fighting the strength of his hand.

With a satisfied sneer on his face, he lets go of you. “You're already such a fucking mess and you haven't even seen my cock yet” he shakes his head teasingly, his unused thumb wipe away your tears. He leaned into your body, catching your trembling lips. The kiss he's giving you this time is soft, as if he's soothing your exhausted body.

Your hand reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it. Toji took the signal and removed his shirt. Your hands explore every crevice of his upper body. When he pulled away from the kiss, you admired the perfect body on top of you. It's not the first time you saw him shirtless, but fuck. He looks so much hotter right now. A drool shamelessly escaped the corner of your mouth.

“Awww ‘yer drooling, doll. Like what you see?” he snickered, while wiping it off.

“I want you inside me, toji. Need your dick fill me up. Please.” Your eyes look at him in pure desperation, hand moving down from his abs to his bulge being covered still by his tight pants.

“Shiiit, baby.” his head lulled back at your touch. Toji stood up and began to strip off. He removed his pants along with his boxers. Your eyes widen. What you didn't prepare for is that one hell of a monster between his legs. Thick, long, and heavy. It even swung when he walked back to the bed. Your expression earned a smug smirk from him.

“No fucking way that's real. You got it done, didn't you? Be honest” you blurted out, eyes still opened wide.

Toji laughed hysterically at your comment, getting on bed and walking with his knees, and positioned himself between your legs. “Fuck you mean I got it done? This is all organic, doll” he says, whilst providing himself a stroke. His tip is glistening with beads of precum, all red and puffy. You licked your bottom lip and reached for his cock, making it throb. Toji hisses at your touch.

“It's so big,” you big your lip. “I don't know if it can fit,” you hesitantly say to the man.

“Oh sweetheart. ‘Course it'll fit. I'll stretch you nice and good, make you feel just how fucking real my cock is” He placed his tip at your entrance and rubbed it on your clit. You both moaned in unison. He leaned down your body and kissed your forehead.

“Hold onto me, baby. ” He says, aligning his length to your hole. You wrap your arms around him, as his face rests on the crook of your neck.

“Oh fuckkkk!!” you yelped, when he finally entered you. Although he slid in pretty easily from your slick, it still hurt ‘cus of how big he is.

“Fuck, you're tight, ” he hissed on your neck. “Easy now. Relax for me” he starts to penetrate his cock into yours, going in and out. A few strokes and the pain is completely replaced by pleasure.

“Mnghhh— feels good now, toji” your nails scratch his back. With your words, he pounds into you at a quickened pace.

“That's fuuuucking it. There you go, doll. ‘Yer taking me so fucking good” he praises you. “Holy fuck you got even more wet. You like being praised, huh? How ‘bout I call you a slut? ‘Cus that's what you are, aren't you? Throwing yourself at me like a fucking whore in heat.” you moaned at his words, mind scrambled. The praise and degradation riling you up. Completely dumb fucked.

“D-deeper tojiii” you whimper against his neck.

“Deeper, huh?” and god, you wish the words didn't come out of your mouth. Because his hands grab the back of your thighs, and pressed them on your upper body, as he throws himself over, making you feel all his weight. Forcing you in a mating press, folding you in half.

“A-ahhh!” you cry out, as you feel him reach a spot that had you seeing stars. Toji's tip is kissing your sweet sweet spot in every thrust. Your boobs bouncing in every move he gives you.

“Oh yeeeahhh. Feel how deep I am now, baby?” he looks at you, grinning like a motherfucker. His hand presses on your lower tummy, “Look. That's how—fuck! nghh deep I am in you, doll” he says looking down, making you do so too. You notice an evident bulge make its mark on your tummy in every thrust.

He's pounding into you so deep, his balls clap against your ass. You're both a moaning mess. He groans your name as he fucks your pussy relentlessly. A white ring forming on his base from your mixed juices.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me” Toji says, as he kisses your lips sweetly— completely in contrast by how mean he's going to your other lip.

You feel a knot in your stomach. “Mhmmpp,” you broke away from the kiss. “T-toji I'm c-close— ahh! Keep going!” he continues to pound into you. A few more of those and then you came undone. Legs shaking, your pussy dripping from your slick, your hands tugging on his hair, as you orgasm. You moaned and moaned and moaned. Which he did, in return. Your name came out like a sweet melody from his mouth.

“F-fuckk. I'm close, baby. Don't you give up on me— ahh take me” his brows furrowed, trying to chase his high.

“Shit shitttt. Toji I feel like I'm gonna pee— stopppp” you cry out. He didn't listen and proceeded to reach his orgasm.

“Mnghhh, ‘s okay. Let it out, baby. Put on a show f'me.” not taking you seriously, he even starts to rub your perked clit with his thumb. You couldn't hold it in—

“Fuuuuuuckkk!! Tojiiii” you shrieked, squirting on his stomach. Your eyes are spilling tears from the overwhelming pleasure. Not long, the sight helped him cum.

“Ohhhh fuck.” He grunted, finally reaching his orgasm. His cum shoots, warming up your insides, some spilling out. He stopped his movements and looked down at you, before pulling his cock out. Upon laying his eyes on you, he couldn't help but smile. “Look at the mess you made. You did so good for me, doll” he kissed your lips.

Your body is totally worn out. You can't even speak, or think straight. He finally got up and asked, “You got any towels here?” his voice sweet.

“Mhmm bathroom” you say, his head nodding in response. After a while, he came back with a towel. He cleaned himself up prior as you can tell by how the glisten on his stomach is gone, as well as the mess on his cock and thighs. Toji reached over to wipe you down with the damp cloth. You yelped when he ran over your pussy, still overstimulated. He chuckled.

“My bad, sweetheart. Damn, you okay?” he asks, now concerned.

“You fucking with me?” you retort, while scoffing.

“I mean, I just did. Hard and good too, mind you.” he continues to tease you. You didn't have any more energy left in you, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tossed the towel somewhere on the floor before going to bed and lay down with you.

"Thought you didn't fuck customers"

"Hmm you weren't in the club when I approached you, doesn't make 'ya a customer" he bluntly replied, shrugging his shoulders.

His hands slip on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your back pressed against his chest. Once you feel his warmth creep onto yours, you melt away and drift to sleep.

________________________________________

You got woken up by the sunlight blinding your eye. Your body is sore. Especially between your legs. You look over your side, hoping to find the one hell of a man.

But, you are left all alone on your bed. You grunted and laid flat on your back. “Shit” you muttered to yourself. After mustering all your strength, you finally got up. As you stood by the bed, you saw a piece of paper on your bed side table.

Hey doll, last night was amaaazing ;) Unfortunately, I have to leave early. My babysitter is threatening me that he'll cut my head off if I don't come home right this instant. Nice house btw.

His number was written at the back with a matching “Call me if you want ;))”

You sighed and crumpled the paper, throwing it in your bin. “Yeah, as if. This will never fucking happen again” you say to yourself.

want more?

>𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

________________________________________

I took down my first post, cus I thought it'd be better to just include the smut lmao.

thanks for reading! hope you liked it <3

When he did touch down, the earth seemed to rumble. Nature quieted around him, his steps deadly as he swept through the house, wherever you were. Hunting for you. 

Only you could relieve him—please him the way he needed. 

He was a gentle man, or at least, he tried to be. But a man could only be pushed so far when he did what was required of him, saving her and him, beating this or that. And then to put it all away, the power and strength, at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t possible. 

The adrenaline rush. It was lethal. 

When you offered yourself up as the solution, he’d immediately shut you down. You were human, fragile, and precious to him.

Not an offense, a simple truth. But after days and weeks of pleading, and enough close calls of him losing his temper, you finally convinced him to try.

To use that remaining adrenaline on you. 

To fuck you. Use you. Break you, need be.

The ‘breaking’ was excessive. The ‘using you’ was not. 

Use you he did, day and night. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing; once he was sure you’d be fine with it, he took your body wherever he was fresh out of a fight. 

Over your kitchen counter, appearing through the door like some secret assailant, bending you and spreading your legs. Fucking you until you could barely breathe. Or in the night, awaking you from deep slumber, sweat-stained and panting as he ripped your shorts off, covering your mouth with his palm. Or dragged into a broom closet, out of your history lecture, told to hold onto the railing of the shelves as he took and took and spent and spent. 

And you loved it—every second—every ounce of heat he spilled into you, every bruise he left, every dirty word he whispered into your ear. 

Tonight was no different. 

You’d been left in Guardian HQ, stowed away safely in Mark’s room there, awaiting the end of whatever battle he’d been sent off to. 

A rough one, it would seem, if his face, cloaked in storm shadows, had any insight to it. 

He appeared, battle-worn and bloodied. You stood up instantly, dressed in nothing but one of his old t-shirts, panic ripping through you. 

“Not my blood,” Mark rumbled, eyes falling down your body, lingering on your bare legs. You nodded, the panic washing away with each passing millisecond. You wiped your sweaty palms against your sides, core clenching on nothing. Mark noticed, as if he’d heard it. His jaw clenched, pure hunger flashing through his eyes. He took a staggering step forward, one hand reaching behind his head to undo his suit. 

“Can’t be nice tonight, baby,” He muttered. “Need it rough. Need to get rid of it. Put it all somewhere.”

‘Cecil’s war machine,’ he’d been called earlier. Mark must’ve heard it if you had. It was getting to him, you were sure. 

“I can take it,” you whispered, stepping away from the desk you were leaning against. “Give it to me.”

He was on you before you could even blink, hands threaded in your hair as he dragged your lips to his. And he consumed you, heat and anger and rage dripping from his lips as he kissed you. You groaned deeply into his mouth as you molded against him, hands creeping up his chest. 

You gasped as your back slammed against the wall, Mark’s tongue hot in your mouth as he searched for your soul. Your innocence. The light that lit both. He wanted it, craved it, and believed it would cleanse him as well. 

He pulled away from you with a ragged intake of breath, saliva falling in strands from your mouths. Lust clouded his gaze as he wiped his mouth lazily, his other hand motioning to you. 

“Off.”

Mark’s shirt hit the floor not a moment later, the chilled air rippling over your nipples. 

Mark’s breath hitched, eyes drinking in the sight of your full breasts and lush thighs, your sweet cunt hidden by a strip of grey underwear. He released a shaky breath, letting his costume fall from his battered body. And it was your turn to oggle, eyes darkening as you took in his rippling abdominal muscles and tented boxers. Thick, large tent. 

One large hand shot up into the hair at the nape of your neck, wrenching you back and onto your stomach, over the desk. You nearly choked as your bare chest collided with the cool metal, breasts squishing from the force. Mark’s foot slid in between both of yours, knocking them wide and far enough for his hips to press against your ass. Mark’s other hand slid down your spine, cursing lowly at the sight of your body below him. He twisted that hand in your underwear. And ripped… like wrapping paper, it fell from your body onto the floor. And his rough fingers were spreading your ass, a warm glob of spit falling behind it. Slick and wet, dripping into your tight asshole and rushing past it to disappear into the entrance of your cunt. 

“Fuuuck,” He rasped, fingers kneading the globes of your ass. “So pretty. So perfect.”

You mewled as you felt his cock slap against your skin, rubbing in the slick there. There was no preparation, no foreplay. Rough and hard, like he said. Mark leaned over your spine, leaving hot kisses between your shoulder blades. 

“Relax,” He ordered gruffly, moving his cock to spear through your folds. You shivered as his breath wafted over you, his pulsing cock nudging at your entrance. “‘m sorry, pretty girl.”

You panted below him, smiling against the desk. 

“Don’t be.” 

Your eyes flew wide as he entered you with a solid thrust, getting a few inches in. The breath was knocked from your lungs, mouth hanging open as he drove in again and again, until his pelvis bucked against the flesh of your ass. Hilted fully within you, substantial and dense. You could barely think, let alone breathe, as he groaned above you, releasing your hair to hold both your hips. Tautly, his fingertips bruising your skin. 

And he withdrew from you with a squelch, thrusting back with just as much vigor as the first. And then another. And another. Until the only sounds were your hips knocking against the table, the table clanging against the wall, and your guttural wails to top all of it off. 

“Good girl,” Mark praised, hips snapping. “Cry for me.”

You did. Every thrust and every inch Mark gave you was pushed through your mouth and into the air. Your cunt squelched and sang nearly as loudly, Mark grinning wickedly down at the spot where you sucked him in. 

The adrenaline rush began, the high overtaking him as he let go and pulled pleasure from your body. It was borderline too rough, too painful, too much. But you could take it. 

You squealed as he hauled you up suddenly, turning you and flinging you onto the bed. His hands wrapped around your throat as he fell atop you, body covering yours completely. Within seconds, he was in you again, moving to shove your thighs up to your chest. And then his fingers were back around your throat, using it as leverage to fuck you so deeply your vision blurred. 

Fast and deep, over and over, until you thought you’d choke on his cock. Pleasure rocketed through your body, warmth blooming all the way to your toes. You were going mad, eyes rolling back and core clamping down on your lover. 

Cresting and building and rolling. Until at last, you siezed, coming all over him. Screaming, your hands fisting the sheets beside your head. 

“Yes, fuck, just like that,” Mark cried out, fucking you through your orgasm. “God, this pussy was made for me, wasn’t she?”

He groaned, hand clutching your jaw, turning it to face him. You watched him, through teary eyes, as he spoke praises over you. With a growl, he leaned down and began suckling deep, bloodied marks into your skin, teeth and nails etching his claim into you.

Until one orgasm led into another, resulting in you nearly losing touch with reality. Mark’s hands flew over your body, grasping at you like you’d disappear if he didn’t hold you there. Gasping into your ear as his thrusts grew choppy, the burning in your thighs growing. 

And all at once, he was cumming, ragged and broken moans falling from his lips as he emptied into you. His release flooded you, warming and filling you until you were sure it was leaking down your thighs. 

The world finally slowed, your heart lulling into calm once more as Mark fell atop you. His chest was slick against yours as he maneuvered your legs down, tucking you into his side. Many moments passed before you reopened your eyes…Before your head stopped spinning. You found Mark gazing down upon you, sleepy eyes twinkling. 

“Hi,” he whispered. 

“Hi,” You smiled, raising your chin to kiss him. A sore ache shot up from multiple places as you moved, resulting in a hiss. 

“Yeah,” Mark grimaced, glancing down the expanse of your body. “Sorry about… All of that.”

You giggled as you studied the painting your body had become. 

“It’s fine, bruises heal.” 

Mark’s brows raised as he pushed himself onto his elbows. 

“Yes, well, that won’t fix itself, now will it?”

You turned, ignoring the ache, finding the bed split in half with feathers spilling from the pillows. And in the daze of the moment, you did the only sane thing. You began laughing. Mark’s head whipped around to catch you doubling over, heaving for air as you cackled. Shaking his head, he scooped you up into his arms and began carrying you to the bathroom. 

“Guess we’re staying at yours tonight,” He sighed, kicking the door open with his foot. You hiccuped, shaking your head instantly.

“Nuh uh, my bed is off limits to you.”

Mark slowed, a wicked gleam in his eyes. He leaned in, nuzzling his nose to yours. 

“We’ll see.”

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Your thighs tried to snap shut again, trembling with the effort, but his big palm shoved them wider, pinning you open while two thick, ringed fingers slammed back into your dripping cunt. The wet, obscene sound of it filled the room, mixing with your broken moans and the low buzz of the toy waiting on the nightstand.

Pretty crocodile tears spilled down your flushed cheeks, catching on your lashes before sliding into your hair. Your whole body burned, overstretched and aching in the best-worst way, every drag of his knuckles against your walls sending sparks up your spine.

“Can’t?” Mattheo’s voice was dark velvet edged with venom. His eyes, usually so wickedly warm for you, were sharp and mean now, drinking in every twitch and gasp like he owned them. “Can’t what, baby? Can’t take my fingers? Can’t take what you fucking earned?”

He curled them cruelly against that spot inside you, scissoring just to watch your back arch off the bed. He had no intention of stopping—not unless your safe word tumbled from those puffy, bitten lips. He was going to wring you dry tonight, fuck the jealousy out of his veins until you were a sobbing, soaking mess beneath him. And even then, he wasn’t sure the rage would leave.

The memory flashed behind his eyes again: that boy’s hands on your waist, the way you’d smiled up at him, all sweet and fluttering lashes while you let the conversation stretch on. You’d fed it. You’d let him think he had a chance.

Your head thrashed against the pillow, eyes wide and glassy as Mattheo reached for the buzzing toy. The low vibration hummed through the air like a threat.

It had been bait.

And Mattheo had bitten—hard.

You should be grateful he was here, buried between your thighs and punishing your pretty little cunt instead of rotting in Azkaban for what he’d almost done to that pathetic boy.

You were certain you couldn’t survive another orgasm. The moment the buzzing toy pressed firm against your swollen clit, a raw wail tore from your throat only to be swallowed by the thick magical bubble he’d cast around you. Searing pleasure-pain exploded through your body like lightning, white-hot and merciless. Your hips jerked wildly, trying to twist away, but the knot in your stomach only tightened further, that familiar, devastating coil winding tighter with every brutal pulse.

“I-I’m sorry! I was being—”

Your desperate apology shattered into a pathetic little hiccup as his dark eyes locked onto yours, unblinking. He could see the safe word hovering right there on your tongue, and his lips curved into that cruel smile. The one that promised he’d break you tonight and enjoy every second of it.

But you didn’t say it.

Instead, you collapsed back against the pillows as another weak, shattering orgasm ripped through you. Your whole body trembled violently from head to toe, thighs quivering uncontrollably around the relentless toy. Heat flushed down from your cheeks, blooming across your chest and stomach in deep, rosy waves as your bound hands twisted uselessly against the enchanted restraints, fingers flexing like you could somehow push him away.

“You’re too smart to be this fucking stupid, princess,” Mattheo tsked, the disappointment in his voice laced with dark satisfaction. His fingers finally slipped from your abused cunt with a wet sound that made your cheeks burn hotter, but the toy stayed right where it was. Enchanted to keep buzzing mercilessly against your oversensitive clit, wrecking every raw nerve ending without mercy.

He rose slowly, peeling off his shirt with deliberate movements, revealing the toned, scarred skin you loved tracing with your fingertips in gentler moments. Scars from battles, from curses, from a life that made him dangerous. His cock sprang free as he shoved his pants down, thick, flushed dark red, and leaking steadily at the tip, hard enough to look almost painful.

“But that’s okay, baby,” he murmured, voice low and rough as he stroked himself once, twice, eyes never leaving your wrecked form. “You’ll give in eventually. You always do.”

Mattheo climbed back onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he gripped your thighs and shoved them wider, folding you open like he owned every inch. He dragged the thick head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your mess, deliberately bumping the buzzing toy still tormenting your clit. Your hips jerked violently, a broken sob tearing from your throat as fresh tears spilled down your temples.

“Mattheo—please—too much, I can’t—”

“You can,” he snapped, notching himself at your entrance. “And you fucking will.” And with one brutal thrust, he buried himself halfway inside you.

The stretch was devastating. Even after his fingers and the toy, his size split you open, forcing your walls to yield around the thick girth. A sharp cry ripped from your lips, muffled by the magical bubble as white-hot painful pleasure flooded your body. You felt every vein and ridge as he worked deeper, slower this time, savoring the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around the invasion.

“Fuck, so tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes dark and mean as he watched your face contort. “Even after I wrecked you, this greedy hole still has to fight to take me. That’s my girl.”

He bottomed out with a final snap of his hips, the head of his cock pressing so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach. The toy kept buzzing mercilessly against your clit, and the dual sensation made your vision spark white. Another orgasm crashed over you almost immediately—weak and pathetic, your walls spasming so hard around his cock that he groaned, hips stuttering.

But he didn’t stop. His hips snapped in deep, punishing strokes that dragged against every oversensitive inch inside you. The wet, filthy sound of his cock slamming into your soaked cunt filled the room, mixed with your hiccuping sobs and the relentless buzz.

“You let him touch you,” Mattheo snarled, leaning down to bite at your neck, hips snapping harder. “Was it worth it, princess? Ya think I’d just let it go?”

“I-I’m sorry!” The words finally broke free on a wail, your bound hands twisting uselessly as another brutal thrust made your back arch clean off the bed. “Mattheo, please! I was being stupid, I didn’t mean it— I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

Your voice cracked into desperate begging, tears streaming freely now. “Don’t be mad at me… please don’t be mad. I only want you. Only you. I swear—”

He slowed, just slightly, hips still grinding deep as he studied your wrecked face. The mean glint in his eyes flickered with something softer bleeding through, even if the jealousy still burned hot beneath it. His hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing away a rogue tear.

“Yeah?” His voice was still rough, breath hot against your lips. “All fucking mine. Say it while I’m buried inside you.”

“I’m yours,” you sobbed, clenching around his cock as another wave of overstimulation threatened to pull you under. “Only yours. Please… m’sorry.”

Mattheo cursed under his breath, forehead dropping to yours. The punishing rhythm eased into something slower and deeper that was still overwhelming, but no longer cruel. “I’m still very mad,” he admitted, voice low and raw. “But fuck… you sound so pretty when you beg.”