#ryomeans

when toji says nothing can keep him away from you, he’s not kidding.

morning breath and you haven’t brushed your teeth? he doesn’t care, he’ll kiss you like always and lick the front and back of both rows of your teeth clean.

don’t even try to tell him you can’t kiss him because you’ve gone down with a cold and can’t breathe out of your nose. he’ll suck the snot out himself.

but his favorite?

it’s when you haven’t showered yet.

it’s when you taste and smell like you. no sugary body wash, no minty shampoo, just you.

“toji, i’m sweaty and i haven’t showered,” you protested, although your words fall on deaf ears as he pulls your shorts and underwear down in one go.

he takes one long look at the marvelous sight in front of him, feeling his mouth water at your glistening cunt. his tongue runs over his lips, then the rough scar just adjacent to it.

toji doesn’t waste any time — diving into your slick folds nose-first and taking a deep breath in. your thoughts melt into a puddle every time his nose rubs against your clit and teases your entrance.

a guttural groan rumbles in his chest, arms wrapping around your thighs to bury his face deeper into your cunt.

the moment his tongue darts out to lick a long stripe against your slit, gathering your sweetness onto his tastebuds, he’s a goner.

he doesn’t stop, no — he doesn’t even think about it. not even after you’ve lost count of your orgasms; not even after you’ve squirted heaps onto him that he looked like he had just come out of the shower.

his boxers were soaked from him coming after rutting his dick against the edge of the bed, senses heightened from the pleasure he was giving you.

toji’s definitely a little gross, but you love it.

the time has come.

the week toji hates because he’s forced to keep his hands off you for most of it. your period.

it’s not like he’s against getting his sword bloody. you’re the one who’s always talking about how it’s ‘gross’ and ‘it smells’.

“i keep telling you, baby, it’s not gross,” toji murmurs against your stomach, pressing a gentle kiss just below your belly button.

“it totally is! it’s— it’s dirty blood, not even normal blood!” you exclaimed, threading your fingers through his hair.

he groaned softly, head inching lower as he continued leaving kisses. “not dirty if it’s coming from you.”

you watch nervously, but your pussy’s throbbing harder than it has in a while. then, he does something that has you squeaking in embarrassment.

he presses his face against your crotch, before inhaling.

“what the hell, toji? that’s—!”

“mm, smells like… coins.”

you deadpan at his words, the shame fading away instantly. “are you serious? out of everything you could have said — that just turned me way off.”

he laughs, voice deep and husky that it has your hole clenching around nothing, “how’s that bad? you know i like money, baby.”

a rough finger pad rubs against your clit through your clothes, making your hips buck up as a pathetic mewl escapes your lips.

he pulls away for a bit, before tugging his sweatpants down until his cock sprang out — hard, heavy, and leaking. “just relax for me. they did say orgasms helped with cramps, no?”

well, it’s safe to say period sex’s ticked off toji’s bucket list.

his eyes were glued to your body, legs haphazardly spread as he leaned back against the chair that was situated across your shared bed.

“mhm, jus’ like that,” he mutters gruffly, shifting slightly in his seat and adjusting the painfully obvious tent in his pants. “don’t act shy now, sweets. run ‘em up and down your pussy and get it all wet.”

biting your lip, you obliged, hesitantly running your hand up and down your cunt. the moment the pads of your fingers pressed down onto your swollen bundle of nerves, a whine ripped from your throat as liquids gushed out from your entrance.

it was almost otherworldly; how wet you got from mere masturbation.

husband!toji whose cock is about to rip his pants open at the sight of you rutting against your hand like a needy whore.

it didn’t take long before he completely forgot that he was supposed to be teaching you — tugging his pants down and pushing his throbbing, hard cock inside of your pussy.

the corner of his lips twitch upwards as his gaze casts downwards. he’s met with the sight of a completely drenched pussy and sheets. he’s right, he thinks, only he can get you this wet.

not in that weird, pervy way— actually, let’s retract that statement. he doesn’t watch it to fuck his fist to the girls getting dicked down by some scrawny guy.

he uses it as a reference.

oddly enough, he gets aroused by the thought of doing it to you. he memorizes the way the girl’s legs were pushed up to her chest, the pillow placed below her lower back, the angle the guy was hitting it from… he just can’t wait to try it out with you.

gojo follows his usual routine— stuffing two fingers up your wet cunt and swirling them around in that torturous circular movement that had you squirming in seconds, squelching noises almost becoming louder than your own moans before shoving his dick into your needy hole.

his hands wrap around the back of your knees, spreading your legs just enough for him to slot himself in between them. the small tuft of hair at the base of his cock brushes against your swollen and sensitive bundle of nerves with every move of his hips, each thrust carefully thought out to maximize your pleasure. the tip of his cock constantly pushes against your g-spot, brushing against your cervix and causing you to gush all over him.

gojo’s never heard you moan this loud before— and neither has he felt you squeeze around him so good.

you'd think this absolute hunk of a man who was practically blessed by the gods of sex themselves would have, well, experienced sex at least once in his life- completely wrong, by the way.

his fingers are digging into your hips, leaving crescent-shaped nail indents as a shaky breath escapes his lips.

"you have to relax, satoru," you cooed, teasing the already leaking tip of his cock by sliding it against your wet cunt.

he whines, his bottom lip swollen from biting down on it too hard to stifle his noises. "inside, p-please," sator sputtered, his eyes already filled with unshed tears from pure need. "w-wan' fill up your pussy already..."

virgin!satoru who shoots ropes of thick cum into your tight, dripping cunt as soon as he bottoms out, literal sobs leaving his mouth as his forehead falls onto your shoulder.

you're about to ask him if he's okay, but he interrupts you by wrapping his arms around your waist and planting his feet onto the surface below him.

satoru's hips lift from the bed and begin to piston in and out of you, his cum spilling out and forming a creamy white ring on the base of his cock. his eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes half-lidded with lust as his mouth latches onto your breast, drool dribbling out and onto his chin.

he doesn’t stop until your pretty little cunt’s milked him dry, eventually shooting blanks out of his slowly softening dick.

virgin!satoru who’s living the dream— and he’s buried deep in it.

he was never supposed to even enter the bathroom — best friends have boundaries, after all — but hearing a strained scream of his name had him rushing to check if you were okay.

…only for him to realize a few moments later that it wasn’t a scream.

bestfriend!suguru who wordlessly pulls you out of the bathroom and tosses you onto the bed, ravaging you like a thirsty man that had been stranded in a desert.

your cunt was already sensitive from your previous actions, making you cry out and tangle his locks in between your fingers, but oh god — the way his tongue circled your clit before pushing inside your entrance, lapping up all of your wetness and tongue-fucking you without mercy — you weren’t sure whether to push him away or pull him impossibly closer.

at one point, his spit was almost entirely the reason why you were even wet. he was so persistent, making out with your pussy as if this was his last meal on earth. a clear, stream of liquid shoots out of your pussy when he inserts two fingers and curls them just right, hitting that spongy spot you couldn’t usually reach by yourself.

“oh my fucking god,” suguru pulls away, slick coating his lips and chin as he stares at the mess you’ve made. “look at that pretty pussy. so wet, all f’me,” a soft slap! has your body jolting, making you lift your head to look at him.

bestfriend!suguru who looked absolutely pussydrunk, eyes glazed over and still glued to the spot in between your legs as he fumbled with his belt. his cock was straining so hard against his pants you could’ve sworn they’d actually rip apart.

when he pushes his cock into your cunt, he has to bite down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, to stop himself from just burying himself to the hilt and fucking you to the point of bruising your cervix. the warmth and wetness surrounding and squeezing around his shaft has him seeing stars, and he hasn’t even started moving yet.

when he finally picks up the pace, he ruts into you like a dog in heat, fingers digging into your waist as he chases after his high. he moans at the sinful squelch of your pussy with every thrust— and if he could eat you out and break you with his cock at the same time, he would.

bestfriend!suguru who says, “if I’d known you had a pussy this fuckin’ good, I would’ve made you mine ages ago.”

he swears he’s a professional dealer.

give the goods and take the money — that’s his usual process; maybe a little chit-chat if he’s in the mood.

he’s just a little distracted right now. it doesn’t help that he’s already high, red eyes zeroed in on the way your tongue swirls around the lollipop before sucking it into your mouth.

he absentmindedly passes you the weed, ignoring the low-cut top you’re wearing, the way your breasts press together, and your bare thighs in those tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination.

he’s ignoring it, but he’s not doing a good job at it. a tent grows in his pants, and you notice it before him. a slightly teasing laugh left your candy-coated lips, “not even trying to hide that i’m getting you all hard, hm, cho?”

dark brown eyes flicker down to his very hard to ignore boner, and his hands do nearly nothing as they fly to conceal it. his ears grow hot, “s—sorry. i’ll go after i roll you some—“

“did i say i had a problem with it?”

he tries not to blink so he doesn’t miss a second of it. the way your manicured hands run up and down his thighs, tongue dyed a pretty pink from the candy as it peeks out to lick your lips.

you pull his boxers down, and his cock springs out — hard and heavy, flushed an angry red while spurts of pre rolled down the length.

an embarrassingly sexy moan leaves choso’s lips as you seal your mouth around the tip, lips sticky. his chest heaves, fingers carding through your hair as he tries not to cum too fast.

oh, but the way you slid the lollipop up and down his cock, mouth sliding back down to lick the candy trail clean was sinful. his hips can’t help but buck, thrusting into your mouth until his throbbing tip hit the back of your throat.

“f—fuck, that feels, ngh, so good—“ his eyebrows are knitted, the black ink on his nose crinkled as his jaw falls slack, thrusts never faltering in rhythm. his balls swell with his seed, the veins ridding his shaft pulsing underneath your tongue.

choso cums just a few moments later with a whimper of your name, thick ribbons of white painting your throat. you swallow around him, making sure not to waste a drop.

you pull off his length with a pop, slipping the lollipop back into your mouth. you grab the weed and blow him a kiss, sauntering out of the room like nothing happened.

it takes him a few seconds to catch his breath and pull his soul back into his body after you’d just sucked it out (literally). he sits up immediately, seeing the lack of money on the table.

choso could only sigh heavily, scolding himself inwardly for getting distracted. he sinks back into the chair as the mental tally goes up by one.

this was the third time you’d gotten free weed and free dick this month.

when sukuna sees you for the first time, he knew you were trouble.

skirt a little too short, cleavage a little too deep, everything a little too young. he can’t stop his eyes from looking over your figure.

he’s just looking. there’s no harm in that, right?

well, that would’ve been the case if you hadn’t sauntered over to him, a glint in your eyes that said you wouldn’t back down unless you got what you wanted — him.

he could be as old as your father (dilf alert), for fuck’s sake, but it doesn’t bother either of you when he asks you out — besides, why would it?

sukuna fucks better than every other guy you’ve been with. he doesn’t cum in 2 strokes. he thrusts like he knows how to use his dick (which he does).

his fingers are rough from years of work, thick and merciless when it curls into the spongy spot of your cunt.

“n—nasty girl,” he mutters against your skin. “you like this? getting fucked stupid by someone twice your age?”

an unabashed moan rips from your throat, gummy walls clamping down on his cock. the sensation makes him grip onto your hips tighter, enough to leave a bruise.

he picks up the pace, heavy balls swollen with seed slapping against your ass harder. “gonna fill you up, cum inside this tight pussy— ngh, you’d like that, won’t you, baby?”

“so so fuckin’ tight, g’nna make sure this dick stretches this little pussy good.” with one final, deep thrust, he cums hard, cockhead nudging your cervix as it pulsed out thick ropes of cum.

well, he’ll be a real dilf sooner or later.