ふしぐろ とうじ

      𝐀𝐇, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒. precious whines, they are breathy and staggering with each thrust. his slick manhood brushed every ridge, gliding, bruising as insistent friction settles in one place. this was filthy, depraved. their mouths awkwardly motioning together due to his lover's inexperience. ironically enough, sukuna wasn't any better rehearsed when it came to showing affection. there were intervals spared to practice by himself, experimenting on what garnered his own arousal or not. simply two creatures venturing through the terrain together, it seems. head tilts on the opposite side, switching their angles as his tongue 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒 and tastes moans on tastebuds. delectable, akin sugar cane and honey dew. pleasure emanates from within, lashes heavier as they weighed over softened crimsons. lips were merciful, caressing as noises vibrated between agape caverns.

      almost, he can feel the tension constrict and strain quite similar to his cocks that nudged betwixt those beautifully sculpted thighs. so strong, toned, they could shatter his skull and a smile would grace an obliterated maw. that muffled cry is consumed, shuddering when his fair warning is driven with another hurried movement to deflower his abdomen. he wonders what the other man is thinking, part of him knows and yet curiosity lingers. it could have fooled him for misery, the manner in which he 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐒 and relents to look down. hitches begin to form, zen'in incapable of catching his breath. there it was, sharp inhales, legs dawning light tremors. broad, deformed features twitch [ ... ] not from surprise, but reaction to being filled and allowing it to happen. hot ribbons catch, coating inside a feverish orifice, they are being pushed deeper, noting how repetitive his motions were to ride out the ecstasy wracking his trembling body.

      ryōmen swallows around him, gulp resounding and being completely drained to the last remaining drop. consistency gives rise to dismay, but no protests are expressed. his consort curls inward, coiling from the wildfire spreading from his groin. in some twisted, endearing way the accursed cradles him through it. presses kisses upon his temple while upper arms surround his midsection. they are careful, merely keeping him close as opposed to controlling his proximity. limbs always sat cumbersomely, because their dimensions didn't align properly in the slightest. he would become overbearing, too much for such an intimate space. his presence suffocates. punier hands nudge at his chest, emitting another unpleasant noise when an enormous tongue withdrew from his entry and teasingly slid back to its former confines. ❛ don't push me away. ❞ barely a threat, but suggestive and yearning for connection.

      eyes lock onto him, head dipping as he leaned back to search for glossy emeralds. and with calculated precision, maintained positions gradually descend onto the futon. toji will be pressed against the cushioned landscape, spine eased by 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐒 and silk. upper palms splay out on either side of his frame, caging but spacious : lower hands explore a curved waist, squeezing to admire the narrow shape before placing themselves atop each knee. he offers a subtle nudge to them, widening their spread so he wasn't clenching too tautly. such reserve, stubbornness similar to his own. sukuna understands, he is excessive and not meant for the weak to endure. left row of brawny fingers unlatch from his knee, reaching within his own torso to lavish them in 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊 saliva. the tongue swirled, lopsided simper prevalent as though gleeful from what had been done to it. gaze doesn't stray from his visage, carrying nothing distinguishable. he isn't smiling, nor presenting a cold exterior. it's calm, such as his voice. ❛ what ails your mind when i do this to you ? i assume it's more than shame. ❞

      digits aren't accustomed to wasting time, for they were occupying below where their lower sections met. index pad circles his entrance, and in that same moment does a top right palm cup the other's cheek thumb brushing the high bone found there. dried tears are soothed over as a talon prods his opening and applies pressure. he would prepare him, a courtesy for doing so well. painfully slow, however. the tip is engulfed, each ligament until wriggling to his knuckle.

         farther they go until they land upon his knees, urging them apart. they refuse at first, his body still trying to settle from the previous release & the intrusion of that powerful tongue. a fierce blush crowds his flesh — chest, face, ears — every last telltale sign of embarrassment laid bare. he was not used to this, to the inexperience curling through him, to affection … to want. it made him seize, left him unable to govern his expressions nor the sounds that ruptured from a powerful throat. lust was a dangerous thing (always had been), made a man do what he never imagined himself capable of — especially when it came to a particular someone.

         a forearm rises & covers his face, letting it drap across. the question arises & he bites his cheek. What ails him? tch ... he doesn't respond right away, but his lips part soon as he feels a taloned finger prodding at his slick center. legs twitch, core tightens as it continues its endeavor, it was uncomfortable, preferred if they were just cut like a normal person's nails, not simply dulled in order to do this .... but it was better than nothing. “nngh … dumb thing to ask when ya already know.” the words come out thick, rough, dragged through heat. "got my head all twisted, that’s what. shame, annoyance, want … all of it. now stop talkin' ... " a swallow follows. a hand finds his cheek, pushing aside his forearm as it moves higher, cupping his face & stroking over heated flesh. it draws his bottom lip between his teeth. the coaxing of his entrance continues, gradually, while his free hand drifts to his side, gathering a fistful of silk in an effort to ease the tension that kept stiffening through him.

     𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐖𝐒 𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒. they were tender, hearts strumming as pressure rises in bodies thought to be temples. his own ancient structure trembled, hands steadying upon sturdy hips and grounding himself once more to this reality. their saliva mixes, pushed into each other’s warm mouths with heavy tongues. such organs swirl, retract, and caress between leisure kisses. sounds exchange, muffled. sukuna readily 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 him, as usual, to attempt a better angle and deepen their connection. arms loosely drape around his waist it’s narrow, aesthetically appealing and the most attractive quality he has ever seen on another person. both sets of fingers venture beneath the bottom hem of his shirt, hiking the smooth fabric just a bit as appendages lace at the small of his back. he cradles their position, accepts what is to come and relinquishes control. it [ … ] causes butterflies to flutter, shines light on the anxieties he harbors where none could see.

     only you, i don’t trust anyone else. a shiver travels along the slope of his spine, nerves sending signals with each calculated touch. there’s a peach flush cascading his features, darkening at concealed shoulders and ear tips. their breath interweaves, smoldering like cinders on a pyre. when toji flicks open his slacks and unwinds a zipper, he moans softly against him. responding with assurance and wordless praise to continue. don’t stop, or i can assure you'll never see me like this again. abdominal muscles tense, strung taut before disassembling when his erection is exposed. humid air feathers out from his chest, delicate and restrained. this felt relieving, as though expanding the vent upon a hearth. that heat disperses, crackling inside and 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 to be habitually fed. he never tired from this, because one doesn't despair when eating their fill. every creature craved, they yearned, and indulged.

     ryōmen allows himself to succumb further, melts as molten lava does when fingers glide and stroke sensitive flesh. so good so meticulously fluid. hips arch with a subtle grinding motion, needy yet controlled. the warmth of his hand was velvet smooth, stimulating and drawing hitched noises that he instinctively silenced between their lip clasp. his lover knows where to press, is skilled when wracking up a 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 reaction. cock throbbed in his vice, beading at the head from over-excitement. translucent fluid soon tumbles, bleeding into his skin when rubbed over by a caressing palm. he tastes strawberry creme on the other's tongue, it transfers and has him swallowing when they separate. a faint hum vibrates, appreciative toward his sweet notes. delicious, unlike the former cigarette tang he is forced to savor on occasion. glossy eye vigilantly peers, capturing moments that would etch into his mind and be recalled for decades to come.

     the other man lavishes those digits like a deviant obsessed and beyond redemption. taking him in, a mortal drinking nectar supplied by a god. it gathered every sense, quickened his heart beat. pupil dilates, a fool absorbed by 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 and blinding love. urges pulsate between his thighs, nearly losing himself to that sensation and had toji not spoken he would have raised him up against their wall and taken what is owed for such vulgarity. because that was invitation, a silent challenge to do something about it. sit. not demanding, suggestive as he followed flickering emeralds. sukuna remembers to react despite the haze, seeming disorientated and reminding his body to move as directed. pause lingers, staring over his shoulder to the unmade bed. he is [ ... ] nervous ? no, it was inexperience. he doesn't know how to yield, doesn't know how to walk and arrive to a crawl before someone else. it's unnatural, but he eventually settles upon the cushy corner with no protest. as he did so, garments are being shed and pulled over his head to be tossed onto the floor.

     preparation, removing bothersome hurdles regardless of how vulnerable it felt to be the only one completely nude. no shame is expressed, only amusement when fushiguro meets with him and unbuckles. that metallic clinking riles him with pleasant memories, leaning back on both hands for a fleeting moment admiring what sprung to action between the intimate space. blush wisps bounced to one side as he cants his head, huffing out a mirthful breath that wasn't quite laughter nor mockery. it's acknowledgement, awe. ❛ you truly are beautiful. ❞ crimson scans the 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄 of his arousal, it sat rather impressively. jutting toward the ceiling as if proud and lacking bashfulness. voice lowered another octave, sight dragging from base to tip before gradually raising back to his sultry jades. ❛ every pain staking inch. ❞

           sukuna always knew how to make his heart stutter into wakefulness, its presence declaring itself in heavy pulses against the cage of his chest, as though desperate to be acknowledged. each beat struck firm & certain, a muted urgency that something within him had long since ceased belonging to himself alone. it felt as though his ribs might yield under the pressure, pried apart not in harm, but in yearning — as though closeness could be measured in how little distance remained between them. there was a strange, aching desire to draw nearer still, nearer than flesh was meant to allow, to bare the tender things hidden beyond bone & sinew, to share what lay guarded there. as if the contents of his being could be poured gently into the hollow of the other’s chest, mingling warmth with warmth, pulse with pulse, until no clear boundary remained between where one ended & the other began. something sacred in that imagined closeness .... intimate enough to feel almost sanctified.

           his erection swayed upward, involuntary twitches betraying the steady pulse through him, gathering insistently as blood surged. his gaze drops to the seated male, watching the way he looks at him, that striking scarlet eye piercing every barrier he’d built. persistent, unyielding in his life, despite all attempts to keep a distance. toji, moved by a sudden tenderness, leans in & cups the other's face with gentle hands. he guides his head aside, revealing what some might call ruin, but to him feels complete. his lips press reverently to the scar, dwell in silent affection, as if honoring the story etched in flesh. its uniqueness stirs something deep within toji, whose own body carries its own memories. in that serene contact, understanding passes between them, needing no words ... only presence.

           lips move to their next target, finding sukuna’s twin flesh, pressing solicitously with persistent want. the kiss breaks, reforms elsewhere, head canting as his mouth descends the other's neck, following the rise of tendon & the heat of skin before drifting to the collarbone, then to the firm chest, each touch conscientious. he finally draws back, just enough to look again, veneration restless in darkened irises. fingers tease the hem of his shirt, tugging upward as fabric rises along his torso. muscle shifts in harmony beneath the lift, contours revealing in measured succession. the knit catches briefly at his shoulders before gathering high, bunching in soft folds. once freed, the garment is discarded, exposing the symmetry of form that moves with unstudied grace. he urges the fabric of his pants lower along powerful thighs, material stretching as it’s guided down, the opening drawn taut before finally giving way.