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oh-katsuki · 2 years

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Where The Panther Killed The Stag - Chapter 2 (Hanma x Reader)

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Pairing: Hanma x Reader

Series Content Warnings: THIS SERIES IS A PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR AND INCLUDES THEMES OF: murder, violence, abuse, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, hard kinks, rumination, guilt, depersonalization, dub/noncon, organized crime, mind break, and other similar themes.

Summary: You're a good student at the top of your university class and the vice president of your student-led club. A shiny toy on the top shelf of your social circle. Hanma likes toys he can break. Slowly but surely, you begin to spiral into a twisted situation that is entirely out of your control, putting your life and the lives of the people around you at stake.

Or, Hanma takes an interest in the University of Tokyo's resident good girl.

Chapter Title: Infection Of The Highest Caliber

Chapter Content Warnings: fem!reader, dub/noncon, loss of virginity, fingering, rough sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, implications of violence, threats, erratic / unpredictable behavior, coercion, slight fear play, blood, praise, slight degradation, sir kink, slight choking

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: I lied about uploading twice a week. i think im gonna do every other day or every two days for at least the first few chapters. or i might just do it ao3 style and upload whenever my heart desires lol. also im nervous about this series... as in i upload and immediately am anxious for several hours. i think its because ive been working on it for a while so the writing in the earlier chapters doesn’t reflect where I am as a writer now. oh well, enjoy this chapter! heed the warnings please!

The next week rolls around with little reprieve from the growing paranoia you’re experiencing. It’s almost neurotic, the way you’ve been watching your back, certain that someone is following you. By the time you arrive at your council meeting, you swear that your hair is standing on end.

But you’re flooded with relief when you see Suzuki seated in his usual spot, teeth intact. He’s bruised up, bottom lip busted and his delicate cheeks bruised and growing yellow. They must have waited for him last week. A shiver runs down your spine thinking that they could have seen you walking home. You aren’t careful enough.

“Suzuki,” you start, “are you okay?”

It’s a vague question but when he nods, you understand. He must have gotten the money to him, or at least enough to stave them off. You swallow thick, eyes drifting down to the bruises on his face and you wonder if they were left by sin or by punishment.

Tension is thick in the air as Hasegawa starts the meeting, clearing his throat in the way men with power do. He doesn’t command a room as well as Hanma does. That’s what you’re thinking as he’s talking and it’s making you insane. You’re bored hearing him talk, despite the delicate cadence of his words and your previous fascination with him. A week spent looking into perhaps the most dangerous man you’ve ever encountered and you’ve the nerve to sit here bored.

You remind yourself what all this is for, your silence, staying away from people like Hanma, not that you could ever find him again. You know from your research that he won’t be found unless he wants to be. Your future is everything to you, one tall man with tattooed hands won’t ruin it. You won’t let a panther among deer ruin your shot at your dream life. It’s what you’ve worked for all these years.

Or that’s what you tell yourself. You really should have known that he’d have you in his web if he wanted. You shouldn’t be surprised by the car that pulls up next to you on your walk home or the frighteningly handsome man inside who sits against sleek black leather seats. That familiar deadpan is set on you again as the heavily tinted window is rolled down, the glass humming with electricity as it reveals him.

And then Hanma Shuji says your name despite you never having told it to him.

You stare at him, eyes wide as he takes in your appearance. The clean-cut pants, sweater, tote bag filled with books and a laptop. Such a goody goody. Hanma wants to eat you alive and under his gaze, you feel yourself shrink, feel the way your fingers grip the phone in your right hand tighter. All while he watches you. No, it isn’t watching, it’s appraising. Hanma’s looking at merchandise.

“Get in the car.” He speaks, that rich baritone invading your ears. You feel the wall on the other side of the sidewalk bump your back, not realizing that you had been stepping away from the car.

“Why?” It’s an automatic response, a scared one.

Hanma rolls his eyes before setting them back on you and then he does something that shocks you further. You swear that there’s a smile on his lips. A sadistic one, but a smile nonetheless. “We’re asking questions now?”

You swallow thick, tiptoeing, choosing your words carefully. “I really can’t. I’ve got studying to do. Thank you for the invitation, sir.”

It’s too formal, but the honorific slips from your tongue easily. It fits him.

Hanma can see you shaking, the way your fingers tremble, the innocent look in your eyes. He likes that you’re so polite, such a pretty pushover. And all for him? Isn’t he the lucky one.

“Taking mommy’s advice and not going out with strangers?” Hanma asks. He seems to ask a lot of questions. “But I’ve got a dress for you and everything. It’s your size.”

Your blood freezes in your veins. It’s your size? Something in you sings, there’s an animal in your chest purring at the thought. The thought that you weren’t the only one thinking. That you’ve lived in his mind for this past week. It’s frightening and all too enticing.

“No, thank you.” You say it a little firmer, with more conviction. Hanma looks back inside of the car, the interior dimmed by the heavily tinted windows. He rolls his eyes and you can see the flash of white before they come to rest to whoever sits in the driver’s seat. You can’t see the driver from where you are, but Hanma seems to give him a look.

“We could do this all day but y’know, I really don’t think you want to see me bored. So get in the car, doll. I won’t ask again.” He folds his hands across his lap, staring at you, through you to the brick behind.

You’re a good girl. You’ve always been a good girl and it’s moments like these that you curse that part of yourself. The part of yourself that needs to be liked, to be praised. Because when Hanma Shuji tells you to get in the car, when he calls you a doll and threatens you so sweetly, you find yourself sliding in next to him, slick collecting between your legs shamefully as the leather hits the back of your thighs.

Hanma nods to the driver, reaching over you and shutting the door. His car smells like cedar, like leather and cologne. It’s clean, nearly untouched, and you find that the most unsettling thing of all is that, beneath the smell of his cologne, you can smell blood.

—

The dress Hanma bought for you could hardly be called a dress at all. It’s a little number, a small, shiny red dress with spaghetti straps. It’s made of silk and the fabric slips expensively over your body when you move. He’s right, it is your size. It hugs your curves perfectly and you’re beginning to feel like you really are a doll, brought along under threat and dressed up pretty.

Even now, in his car again as you drive to a place he hasn’t disclosed to you, you wonder how the fuck you ended up here. Your eyes glance down to the bag of clothes on the floor of the car, your belongings from class and the outfit you wore earlier in the day. Whatever attitude you seem to have beside him, your mind is different, confused, frightened, screaming profanities that your peers couldn’t even imagine would come out of your mouth. And beside you, Hanma is still, his chin resting on his hand as he stares out of the car window.

“How did you know my name?” You find the courage to ask.

“Friends.” He offers a one-word response, not sparing you a second glance until you inhale a sharp and frightened breath. “You worried I’m gonna hurt you?”

You shift in the seat, “duh.”

“Relax. It’s just some fun.”

“Why?”

Hanma’s eyes dart over to you. “Why, why, why. You sure ask a lot of fucking questions.”

You’re startled by the emotion in his voice, the way his expression curls up into something nasty as he mocks you as if your reaction isn’t perfectly normal. You’re beginning to think that Hanma has no concept of what normal is.

“You looked interesting.” He finishes his statement, eyes falling deadpan again as they drift over you.

You wouldn’t call whatever this is interest, but something about being praised by him satisfies you, if you could even call it that. You briefly register that this isn’t how someone should be treating you, but garnering the interest of someone like Hanma feels like an achievement of some sort and bite your bottom lip to hold your tongue.

You quickly learn that Hanma’s emotions are as erratic and unpredictable as his actions. When you arrive at the club, he tosses an affectionate arm over your shoulder, striding past the bouncers and through the crowded club to a table in an adjacent room. People stare as you pass. They stare at you when he walks you past them, bored eyes sparing the room little more than a glance as he brings you to your destination. It’s obvious that they’re afraid of him, but also of you.

He sits you down in a booth in the far corner of the club, separated from the rest of the room by a red velvet rope that matches the upholstery. One moment, Hanma is calm and cold and the next, he’s shouting. Through the evening, there is always someone to be upset with, always something to piss him off, always something less than satisfactory. You find yourself struggling to please him, sitting close, letting his broad hand roam up and down your thigh.

You don’t drink. You don’t like the way being drunk makes you feel. But when Hanma pushes a glass in front of you, you sip it. When he slips his hand up your dress to pinch the fat of your thighs, you widen your legs. When he asks you to sit pretty and wait, you do. Because Hanma is someone that you want to give what he wants. Because despite the fear creeping in your veins, you want him.

The lights in the club are dark, pulsing with each beat of the upbeat music. They flash across his features, illuminating the dull look in his eyes and moving across the hard edges of his face. It smells like sweat and liquor. Your shoes stick to the floor when you move them and it would bother you if you weren’t so hyper aware of the man next to you and the heat radiating off of him. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the way bodies mingle on the dance floor, shapeless in the lights as they blend and shift until they are unrecognizable and abstract shapes glittering like gold under the strobes.

Hanma is reclined in the booth beside you, hands splayed over the top of the red leather that you’re matching so nicely. His fingers drum across the surface lightly with the music, long, vascular hands ghosting over the decor before his arm sinks down around your shoulder.

It’s a possessive grip, languid in movement, and in this position his long arm dwarfs you. You don’t miss the way he looks at anyone greedy enough to check you out, fingers running a circle around the ball of your shoulder as they realize their mistake. And it makes you feel good. Being desired, being possessed by someone other than yourself. As dangerous as this is, as strange as this situation is, you find Hanma charming. You find his hair-trigger sexy because right now you’re on the good side of it, safe under his arm while he frighteningly threatens another man.

“You’re not the type for clubs.” Hanma speaks, bending low by your ear. It’s not a question, but a statement rather, like he already knows.

You shake your head in response, turning to look at him. Over his shoulder you can see the entry way to a separate room, away from the pounding of the bass and the multi-color strobes. Despite the situation, the bags of drugs you can see being run from this room to the next, the guns in men’s belts that you have no idea how they got, you feel somewhat safe with him. Well, not safe per say, but far safer than you would be watching this from the outside. And Hanma loves that he can see that on your face.

He loves your uncertainty, the way you stick to his side like a good girl because when you’re here, he’s the only thing you’re somewhat familiar with. Hanma has a particular adoration for girls like you. The ones that break so easily. The ones that break forever.

He lets his gaze roam slowly down your figure, to where your thighs spill out of the sinfully small red dress he’d bought you. You match the booth like an accessory, like you’ve been bought. Hanma admires the way your unpolished fingers cup the drink he’d bought you in your lap, hardly touched, ice melting slowly in the glass. It clinks and shifts, sliding against its self and spinning with even the slightest movement.

He brings his fingers to the underside of it, knuckles grazing your upper thigh before he pushes it up delicately to your lips, all while maintaining your gaze as if he’s the fucking sun. Hanma pushes the rim to your slightly parted lips and his body hums when you let him tilt it back. Watching you like you’re an experiment, something fascinating and interesting.

The alcohol burns your throat. You’re not used to it and you’re sure that this drink is probably just straight vodka. But you let him tip it down your throat and you let him watch you while you do as you’re instructed.

Hanma hums, low in his throat as he takes the glass from you and sets it onto the table. Then, he leans in and puts his lips to yours in an open-mouth kiss. It’s aggressive and wet, his tongue dipping into your mouth and exploring. You part your lips for him, eyes fluttering shut because Hanma’s mouth is hot and his tongue is soft as it swipes across yours.

You’d be embarrassed to be kissed like this in front of so many people, but the alcohol is soaring through your veins and the kiss only makes you feel more separate from the situation. Even here, in your own body, you are an outsider.

Hanma’s lips move against yours, open-mouthed before he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites hard. You whine against him. It hurts, his teeth on the soft flesh of your bottom lip, but you’re squeezing your thighs together at the difference. The difference between how soft his tongue is in your mouth and the blood you’re sure he’s just drawn from your bottom lip. You can taste copper as he kisses you, gliding his tongue along the cut on your bottom lip. He shares with you, coaxing his tongue against yours as the metallic taste spreads through your mouth.

Hanma pulls away after a moment, eyes open as he looks over you with a bored expression, gaze flicking down momentarily to where you’ve tangled your fingers into his dress shirt.

“This is expensive.” He comments, pulling your hands from his chest and smoothing down the wrinkles. “If you want to ruin my clothes, you should at least do it at my place.”

Hanma tilts his head back and despite the fact that it sounded like an invitation, you know it wasn’t. In the short time you’ve known him, you’ve learned that Hanma doesn’t make requests because Hanma gets everything he wants. What makes you more nervous still is this growing desire to be that, to please him. You don’t think you could say no if you wanted to.

Alarm bells glare in your head as he stands and guides you from the club, the hand that reads “sin” pressed flush against your lower back, urging you forward with him. You should be getting home. You have work, club activities, organizational duties to complete, but your mind is foggy and your breath feels too loose to keep yourself together. Slowly, you unravel like string. All you can think about is the hand on your back, the way his long fingers would feel pressed up inside of you.

You’ve been touched before but never in a context like this, never in what’s shaping up to be something emotionless and filthy. You want to save yourself, to a degree, for someone you love. Hanma must know that you don’t have much experience because in the car, he eyes you from where he sits.

You’d expect the situation to be sobering because you’re afraid, but instead looking at him makes you feel drunker, makes you sink deeper into this unfamiliar intoxication that is Hanma Shuji.

Hanma doesn’t need to wonder what you’re thinking about. He already knows. You’re thinking about his hands, if his cock matches his height, if it’s going to hurt when he puts it in and if he’s going to hurt you after. He deals a lot with girls like you. The nice ones he finds in shops or on odd jobs. Innocent girls who want to please, who want to be something more than themselves for the sake of someone else. He loves the martyr type. So he lets you believe that you’re being a martyr. Hanma plans to let you think you’re making a difference even when he knows that you’re not. He’s not someone who can change and it’s fun to break things that don’t belong to him.

He staves off boredom with girls like you. That’s really all you’re good for. After all, someone who can’t think for themselves is nothing more than a dog anyway.

—

Hanma lives in the northwest portion of Minato Ward, in Aoyama, the wealthiest part of the city where he owns a penthouse overlooking the attractive neighborhood. It makes sense when you think about it. A man with a price on his head living in one of the safest areas, in a tower equipped with security and on the top floor.

His apartment is stale. That’s how you’d describe it. It’s full of sleek furniture clearly not designed for comfort and modern art that lacks feeling but no doubt has a high price tag. The floor plan is open with gray wood floors. It looks like it’s been pasted from a high fashion magazine and the space feels too clean to have been lived in. Against the bright interior, he looks like a devil, dark plastered against sterile whites and muted grays.

“Get out.” He commands, and behind you, you hear someone shuffle out of the apartment as the door clicks behind them. You’d almost forgotten that Hanma was accompanied by guards, high up on Tokyo’s underground food chain. You suddenly want to go home.

“Well, uhm-” You start, hooking your fingers together in front of your body. “Thank you for tonight but- I really should get home.”

Hanma doesn’t look at you while you speak, instead walking to the bar and pouring a glass of whiskey, liquid gold against a pristine glass. You think it’s for him until he walks over to you and hands it to you.

“Drink.”

“I don’t think I should.” You respond, holding it, fiddling with the dips in it.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to refuse a drink?” He muses, walking to the sleek black couch and sitting down. You follow him, caught in his gravitational pull, standing near him but not sitting because he hasn’t invited you to.

The last thing you want to be is rude. You’ve never been rude, not intentionally, so you nod, taking a small sip of the drink. You hate the taste of whiskey but all you can think of right now is how stupid you are for not accepting.

Hanma watches you take a sip, pleased again with your malleability before he reaches his hands out for your hips, pulling you between his legs.

“You’re pretty.” He says, low-lidded eyes looking over your figure.

You’re shocked by the praise. It’s the first real compliment he’s given you all night and despite yourself, despite the thrumming of your heart against your ribs, you melt a little.

“I like pretty things.” Hanma runs a hand over your cheek, stroking along the curve of it before running two slender fingers down along your jugular. “Red looks good on you.”

His fingers close around your throat and you suck in a sharp breath, screwing your eyes shut. This is a man who has killed. You wonder if the fingers around your throat now have ever done this to someone else. If they’ve ever closed around someone’s throat so tightly that the light fades from their eyes.

“Thank you…” You squeak out.

“Are you afraid?” He draws you closer by the neck, the hand on your hip giving a firm squeeze.

When you nod slowly, he hums his approval, bringing his lips to yours. They move against you languidly, tongue delving into your mouth like he’s claiming it, mouth hot and greedy. You let him kiss you, swaying slightly until he pulls you into his lap, taking the glass and setting it on the coffee table in one swift movement.

Hanma’s hand stays seated on your throat, your center pushed against his hips. He strokes the soft skin of your neck with his digits when he kisses you and each drag of his finger against your pulse point makes you feel like you’re choking, air catching in your lungs. He exhales languidly against your mouth, each movement calculated, meant to scare you.

As he guides your back to the couch, the tension feels like a chord about to snap. You want him, you do, but you also want to run. Your legs feel frozen as he lays down between them, covering you with his body that feels larger than life. Against your stomach, you can feel the hard ridge of his cock and your blood thrums with nerves you never even knew you had.

You’re dancing along a wire. You can feel it as he kisses down your neck where his hand used to be, biting harshly at the flesh, warning you against doing things he doesn’t like. You’re meant to just sit pretty for him, let him work you open. That’s what’s going to make him happy.

When Hanma drags his teeth harshly across your collarbone, you yelp and he chuckles into your skin. It’s the first time you’ve heard him laugh and it’s intoxicating, as frightening as it is. It means that you’ve done something he likes and you’re obsessed with the feeling of it.

He’s surprisingly gentle but, beneath it all, you can feel his hair-trigger. The paper-thin string is taught between your legs, caught between pleasure and punishment as his fingers trail under your dress and up your thigh.

He’s taunting you, gauging your reactions. You can’t decide if you want this. You can’t decide if you want whatever you’re spiraling towards but when his fingers come into contact with your clit and he closes his eyes at the feeling, you know you can’t turn back. This game he’s playing—and it is a game—is one you’re becoming more invested in by the moment.

It really isn’t until his fingers are curling inside of you, long and slender, that you realize what he is. Hanma is a predator, a panther with sharp eyes, and you’re caught in his jaw. But more so, as he works you open helplessly on his fingers, you realize that he’s the type of person who makes you want to end up as prey.

“You’re so tight down here, doll.” Hanma purrs. His voice is thick and deep and full of pleasure. For the normally cold man, the tone switch is disorienting. “You save yourself just for me?”

You don’t answer, instead gasping when he crooks his fingers up harshly. “H-Hanma-”

He stops, pulling himself from you. The faint trace of a smile falls from his lips, another sudden switch. You realized you’ve tripped the trigger. “Using my name now?”

Hanma lines his cock up with your entrance and you eye it, eyes wide. It’s long and slightly curved, tan and flush at the head with two angry veins running up it. He smears your essence over it, not watching what he’s doing, where’s he’s putting it as he feels around for the ring of your cunt.

“We’re familiar enough now that you can use my name, are we?” His voice is cruel, elated with the slightest uptick of anger. “If we’re so fucking close, let’s get a little closer.”

You put your hands against his chest, pressing back because you can feel what’s coming. “H-Hanma wait- wait-”

“There’s that fucking name again.” He thrusts into you and you gasp, fingernails digging into his shirt, ruining it like he promised you would. He looks angry, staring down at you with a nasty scowl on his face. “Show some fucking respect, eh? I’m not playing around here.”

“It hurts!” You cry out, back arching up at the fill.

“Yeah?” He says. “Does it hurt, doll? Got some fuckin’ nerve calling me by my name. Thought you were a good girl?”

“I am! I am!” You plead as he drags his cock along your walls and pushes back in with a harsh flick of his hips.

“Then what the fuck do good girls call me?” He spits down at you, pistoning his hips into you. “Only good girls deserve to feel good. Casual sluts get used like one.”

“Sir!” You say, tears brimming in your eyes. “Good girls call you sir!”

You feel Hanma’s cock twitch in you. He wants so badly to put you in your place, to ruin you now. He wants to take the knife from his pocket and drive the point home by pressing it to your neck, watch those pretty eyes well up even more than they already are. But if he breaks you too soon, you won’t break for him.

He pushes his hips flush against yours, stilling as he holds them there forcefully. “That’s right. And what are you gonna be?”

“Your good girl.” You respond, wary eyes finding him.

You need something to ground yourself with. You need something to tether you to earth and right now, you’re finding that he’s the only thing. The sterile decoration in the room around you offers you no comfort so you turn to the next living thing to validate you.

Hanma breaks out in an adoring smile. It reaches his eyes and sits wide across his face before he laughs.

“Oh, you’re so good.” He lowers his mouth to yours, pulling his hips back slowly and this time you can register the way he hits the sweet spot inside of you. “You’re my good girl now, right? Never going to let you go. So fucking good for me.”

You soak up his praise like a flower, like it’s a reprieve from everything else. When he likes you, when he wants you, you’re safe. Fear still hums in your veins but you pull him closer, for safety, to stay protected by walking the tightrope with this predator.

You moan your response, lost in it, the alcohol making your head fuzzy. You don’t have the mind to think about how fast this seems to be moving, about his words of possession and the adoration he regards you with so early into your tryst.

It’s a long while before he lets you go. A long while before he’s finally decided that he’s had his fill of your cunt and the loss makes you sad in a fucked up, perverse way. You’re half asleep by the time he’s finished, too fucked out to register that he’s cum inside of you with a deep groan, with threatening praises in your ear.

There is the distinct feeling that this is the cut that will cause the infection. You can feel the way it begins to invade your blood. It’s a new, unrecognizable part of yourself, brought about through your blood. Infection of the highest caliber.

---

The next morning, you wake up in his bed, or at least what you think is his bed. You’re clean and washed, a favor you didn’t think he would do you. His bedroom is as stale as his living room, a black duvet comforter covering your body. The bed beside you is empty and as you sit up, your head pounds with the hangover. You shift your body to move and your legs ache, body screaming for rest, for someone to massage the creak in your muscles away.

You let yourself think stupidly that he’s done this because he liked something about you last night. And you’re not entirely wrong. It’s never been this easy that he’s gotten a virgin to submit like that, but you’re also a fucking idiot to imagine that it makes you special. Still, you replay the words in your head, that he’ll never let you go, and though it sets a deep fear in your lungs, you also sing at the praise.

When you pad into the kitchen on shaky legs, unfamiliar with the layout of the apartment, he’s reclined on the couch, arm thrown over the back of it. His tattooed hand reading “punishment” lays idly along the cushion and in his other hand, he holds a newspaper. It’s oddly domestic and he tosses you one single sideways glance before removing his hand from the back of the couch and tossing a white and purple package to the end closest to you.

“Take this.” You walk over to the package, turning it over in your hand. You recognize the brand, Plan B. “I don’t need you getting fucking pregnant on me.”

You mumble your thank you, walking to the kitchen. As instructed, you take the pill and Hanma hums his approval.

“What are we doing today?” You ask, immediately regretting it when his eyes shift to you.

“You’re going home.” He responds cooly.

It should make you relieved to not have to stay here any longer with a man who’s known for being cruel, but something in your stomach drops. So he’s done with you? Bored with you already?

You don’t respond, in fact, neither of you says much to each other on the ride home. Instead, Hanma remains eerily quiet, uninterested in you once again. You watch out the window as the scenery passes, a bit dazed, but still registering as it begins to get more familiar. Beside you, Hanma does the same, cheek against his hand. He looks a bit like a child like this, spoiled rotten and unhappy with his new toy. It makes your stomach turn.

As the sleek black car pulls up in front of your apartment building, despite the fact that you haven’t told him your address, you find fear creeping back into your veins. He could kill you now. He could take you out to avoid any of this getting to the authorities, to avoid exposing where he lives, who he works with, what clubs he frequents, though you suppose the authorities already know. The problem isn’t not being able to find him, it’s that he covers himself so well. He could do the same to you.

You move to get out of the car but he stops you, a hand around your wrist. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir.” You respond, chest tightening.

“Hm.” He says, letting go and watching as you walk around the other side of the car to the sidewalk, dress from the night before still wrapped around your figure. Hanma rolls down the window, leaning out of it onto his arm. “Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I’ll fucking kill you. So be good, okay?”

You wonder how he can say such frightening things so easily, how he can look bored when he’s just pressed a metaphorical gun to your head.

“Yes, sir.” For some reason, it’s hard to find the words when you’re around Hanma. You think that when it comes to him, there is very little to say.

“Atta girl.” As he rolls up the window, you hear him tell the chauffeur to drive before he pulls off.

You watch him pull away before turning to walk back to your quaint apartment. You don’t have the mind to ponder if you were just kidnapped, if it still counts even if he took you home after. Does a death threat mean anything if you plan to take it to the grave? Did that really happen?

Even as you let yourself into your apartment, you’re not worrying about yourself. You’re home and safe, the bruises will fade. All you can think of now is whether or not he got bored of you. God, you hope he hasn’t already grown bored of you.

#hanma x reader #hanma x reader smut #hanma shuji x reader smut #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji smut #hanma smut #tw: dark content #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: praise #tw: loss of virginity #[ 📕 – writing ]#tw: blood #tw: coercion #tw: drugs/alcohol

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rinhaler · 6 months

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𝐀𝐌 𝐈 (𝟐𝟓𝐅) 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 (𝟐𝟖𝐌)

i know it sounds bad but we got high and he's hot!!

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ⁭plug!ryomen sukuna x f!reader

Genre: porn with a plot Notes: thank u 2 @chososdoll for beta reading for me!! this is part of @ohkento's reddit-inspired collab! (ps this isnt a true form fic i just think he looks SEXY IN THAT PIC HNNNNGN) Warnings: 18+, dubcon, mean dom!sukuna, sub!reader, cheating, hate sex ♡, drug taking, weed smoking, blowbacks/shotgunning, heavy degradation, slight praise, fingering ♡, vaginal sex, sixty-nineing ♡, face sitting, squirting ♡, pussy spanking, noncon filming, coercion, manipulation, daddy!kink, creampie, cervix fucking. Words: 10.6k

“I’ve heard about you.” Yuuji starts, turning his head from looking up at the stars to facing you. Your mind feels cloudy, but you return his stare. He thinks your pearly smile belongs in the sky; a permanent constellation to remind him of this moment. “How come this is my first time meeting you?”

You sigh, reaching over as he hands a lit spliff to you. The bonfire rages in front of you both, the smoke burning your eyes until they fill with water.

At least you have the perfect cover if you burst into tears.

“Things got… hard.” you tell him, not really wanting to elaborate. But golden-brown puppy dog eyes will you to continue. It’s stupid, really, how cliché people become when they smoke. You’re no exception. The intoxication and the setting make you feel as though you’re in an indie movie, longing to share your scars and become closer to the one attractive boy giving you his attention. “My ex, he cheated on me. I was with him for two years so it hurt.” you confess, taking a thick drag before passing it back to him, he tuts as he takes it from you.

“I’m really sorry,” he expresses, holding eye contact while he smokes. The feeling rushes straight to his head and through his blood. He laughs a little as he gets comfortable in his seat. “Sorry… I’m not laughing at you.” he clarifies, laughing again.

You start to laugh too, leaning over to grab the spliff from his hand before he sets the back garden on fire with it. Both of your attention is pulled from each other as you hear a scream from inside. The party is still going on indoors, and the scream soon turns into a girly laugh.

No doubt one of your friends flirting with one of the other guys.

“It’s okay.” you assure him, getting just as comfortable in your own seat as you smoke the remainder of the joint. You wrap yourself in the blanket you brought outside and turn your body slightly to face him. “It was with my best friend, too.” you continue, your deepest wound not seeming so scarring as you allow the high to expose your secrets on your behalf.

“Shit.” he shakes his head.

“I’ve been doing therapy and stuff so I’m better. I just wasn’t in the mood to see people…” you explain, jolting upright a little as you realise you’re oversharing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so deep and make you feel uncomfortable.” you tell him.

“I’m fine, I’m the one who asked.” he chuckles, getting comfier under his own blanket as he turns to look at you.

His warm eyes make you feel relaxed, safe. And you hate it. You hate how much of a cliché you really are becoming and you hate that you can’t help it. This moment feels so much bigger than anything, but deep down, you’re paranoid, because you’re sure it’s the drugs talking.

You’ve heard about Yuuji, too.

You’ve heard about how sweet he is and how he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. He has a sports scholarship of some kind, and after a quick stalk of his socials you noted how reflected this is in the form of his chiseled body. Could he really be so nice? He seems, perfect.

And apparently he, gives the best head.

“I have a secret.” he tells you, quietly. His voice almost drowned out by the crackling bonfire beside you. You aren’t sure what makes you heat up so quickly. The implication of his words or the way he said them. A lustful look in his eyes as the fire dances wildly beside you both.

“Yeah?” you tell him, cheeks fill with warmth as you try to ignore how fucking hot it is in pursuit of looking cool. And that makes you giggle, for some reason. Yuuji isn’t the one making you flush with heat, it’s the fire, idiot. “T-Tell me.” you encourage him, throwing off your blanket and fanning yourself dramatically.

So much for looking cool.

He grins, almost coyly, as he leans across the arm of his chair. And for some reason, you instinctively mirror him. Is it so secret that you need to be close? He might whisper it to you.

He tilts his head, smirking. His eyes flit from your eyes to your lips a few times. Enough times that you make a note of it. And your heart is fucking racing with each flicker of his gaze. You think you know what’s coming. But you stay still, watching him, waiting for him to make the first move.

“… I really wanna kiss you.” he admits. And if you weren’t hot before, you certainly are now. You try, and likely fail, to keep it cool. A wide grin spreads across your face and you burst into giggles. But your eyes meet his again, and you see a smile just as wide as yours on his face as he observes you.

“Yeah?” you ask, dumbly.

“Yeah.” he nods.

You gulp, shallowly, leaning in closer to him and letting your eyes fall closed. He smirks, again, leaning in until your lips meet. It’s sweet and passionate, until he pulls away. It surprises you a little. Worries you, even. Are you a bad kisser? Maybe you are when you’re high. But worry turns to astonishment as he pulls your chair closer to until the arms of both of your seats touch. He smirks, again, wrapping his arm around your neck as he leans in to kiss you.

And now, you really do hate yourself.

You moan into it.

You aren’t even sure where it came from. Was that really you? He grins, nonetheless, a feeling of pride swelling in his chest as his tongue meets yours in a more than welcome manner. You pull away, a string of spit connecting you both. A kiss infused daze covers your features as you look at him under heavy eyelids, and you pant, deeply.

“I have another secret.” he whispers, stealing another sweet kiss from your raw lips. Gloss smeared over your lip line and a dewiness transferred to his.

“Is it as good as the first?” you tease, giggling as his hand cups your face. You mewl, melting into his touch as his thumb strokes your cheek delicately. Your eyes widen. A look of curiosity replaces the majority of the lust, though you both know it’s still lurking.

“Well,” he starts, his eyes begin to wander. You observe him as his vision roams from the sky to the flames beside you. He takes his time, the anticipation of his words runs rampant through your bloodstream. Until, finally, he blesses you with his gaze once more. “I want to stay with you until the sun comes up. I want you to sit on my lap, with my cock inside you, under our blankets. All night.”

You’d hoped once he told you that your anxiety would have diminished. Though you’re sure with the way his eyes are fixated on your lips, your heart is surely surveying an escape route from your slack-jawed mouth as it pumps hard and violently through you. He doesn’t seem worried that you haven’t said a word, and his gaze doesn’t falter.

“Okay.” you nod.

It excites you. You haven’t been with anyone since your ex. And it might be a bad idea, but it doesn’t stop you. It’s not like you’re rushing into being with someone. It’s been months since things ended with your cheating ex-boyfriend. You stand up, bringing your blanket as you stand over Yuuji, and he holds your hips gently.

He feels under your skirt, smiling when he feels how soaked your panties are but he doesn’t comment. He moves them into the crease of your thigh and encourages you to straddle him.

You do.

Hovering slightly as he pulls down his joggers and his semi springs free. It’s big and pretty, like him. You kiss him as he jerks himself until he’s aching. He’s desperate to bury it inside of your gummy walls, his cock catches against your eager hole with every purposeful stroke.

He throws his head back as you sink down on him, and your hips stutter slightly from the stretch. You’re trying to focus on concealing your bodies with the fuzzy blanket wrapped around you, but your lips fly to his in a bid to silence yourself as he sheaths himself fully.

“Fuck, you’re tight… so wet, too.” he mumbles, hips rolling ever so slightly as he enjoys the feeling of being inside of you raw.

You jolt, panicked, as you hear a knock from the kitchen window. Both of your attention is stolen to see the origin, and you spot a group of partygoers hollering from inside. Two of his friends and one of yours, they all cheer and whoop as they can only assume what’s going on under the blanket.

Yuuji smiles, shaking his head before turning back to capture your lips in another soft kiss. You’re too distracted to notice him flip them off until they disappear.

“Do I remember the night the most perfect woman in the world let me hit her raw after a few minutes of talking under the stars? Yes, baby, I remember the best night of my life, why?” Yuuji asks after you recall that first night you met. “Very cool of you, by the way. I didn’t think you were gonna say yes.”

You giggle, punching his arm softly as you curl into his side in bed. And you sigh, dreamily, thinking about it again. It’s been over a year since that night and you feel just as hazy around him as you did then. You were worried about him thinking of you as a one night stand. Worried that you’d just given in to this stranger for no real reason only to get your feelings hurt again.

But as the sun began to rise and wake you both up in that horrendously uncomfortable chair, he kissed your forehead and held you tightly against his chest. He stroked your hair until you managed to blink the blurriness from your eyes and see his in a new light. The crackle of the orange and white flames had gone from them. Instead, they were honeyed and soft. The kindest eyes you’d ever seen.

“The McDonald’s breakfast in the carpark was better than the sex in the garden, by the way.” you tease him, earning a tickle attack into your sides.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s why you were begging me to fuck you in the backseat afterwards.” he laughs, stopping his assault as you begin to scream. You cuddle into him again, his fingers tracing over the flesh of your upper arm. “It was good though, really good. Should we order hash browns?”

“Yes.” you nod, excitedly.

He sits up and reaches over to his bedside cabinet to grab his phone. He sighs as he checks his notifications. You sigh, too, watching him as he gets out of your warm bed in search of his clothes.

So much for hash browns.

“Yuuji…” you start.

“Don’t start, please, I don’t wanna leave in a bad mood.” he tells you. He smirks when he realises you’re checking out his abs, only focusing on him again as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. “I don’t want to rush moving in just because you feel sorry for me.”

“I’m not rushing you, and I don’t feel sorry for you!” you tell him, shuffling onto your knees and crawling across the bed until you’re kneeling beside the edge of the mattress. “I hate your brother. He’s a creep and he treats you like shit. I have plenty of room here… you can move in here and have your own space and—”

“I know he’s a dick.” he agrees, pulling on his socks and slipping his feet into his sneakers. “But he’s my only family. I’m not just gonna ditch him. Why don’t you move in with me?” he wonders.

“Um… I live in a townhouse instead of an apartment and it’s better, it’s in a better neighbourhood and your brother isn’t here.” you smile, smugly, and it earns a chuckle from him.

“Okay, you’re right about that. Speaking of which though I can’t stay tonight but you can come over if you want. I’ll order those hash browns for you tomorrow when I’m on my to the gym. I’m booked with PT sessions my entire shift.”

“I’m not waking up at 6am to eat hash browns alone, Yuuji.” you roll your eyes.

“You can text me when you wake up and I’ll order them for you. Pleeeeease?” he flutters his eyelashes dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Good girl.”

“I didn’t say yes?” you respond, flabbergasted. “Is Sukuna gonna be there?”

“Well, yeah. He lives there.” Yuuji tells you, earning an eye roll from you. He is in complete agreement on how much his older brother sucks. He understands why you hate him. He’s irritating, he’s crass and seems to have no concept of personal space or privacy. Yuuji doesn’t care for his brother in the least, and he has no doubt the feeling is mutual. There is love there, of course, but only out of necessity. “You don’t seem to mind him when the family discount applies for weed, though. Interesting.” he says with faux suspicion.

“Okay, that is literally the only thing he’s good for.” you remind him. He laughs, agreeing.

He kisses your lips chastely, hurrying to grab his backpack to hurry home to his expectant brother. The only two reasons he ever leaves you in haste are for work, or for Sukuna. Today was meant to be a day you could spend together since you both have the day off.

But of course, Sukuna ruins everything.

YUUJI: FORGOT TO ASK YUUJI: ARE WE SMOKING TONIGHT? YOU: DUH! YUUJI: BETTER BE NICE TO SUKUNA FOR THAT FAMILY DISCOUNT THEN 😉

You stand outside of your boyfriends apartment complex, shivering, waiting for somebody to answer the door. He ordered a taxi for you since he knows you always worry about your car getting broken into when you visit, his own car suffering numerous break-ins in the span of your relationship.

And really, you don’t want somebody to answer the door. You want it to be Yuuji, specifically, the thought of Sukuna answering the door and tormenting you until you get to the safety of Yuuji’s room is entirely too much to handle. Your nerves are already shredded by being here, the thought of having a battle of words with Sukuna will surely tip you over the edge.

“Oh, hey, I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.” you hear a voice from behind you. You turn around to see Yuuji. Fuck. You see the hallway light flicker on from under the crack of the front door to his apartment and you realise too late that a demon has been summoned. “I went and got cookie ingredients, I thought we could bake some before we smoke later.”

“Sounds fun.” you smile, his sweet idea assuages the tension you feel, albeit briefly, before his elder brother swings open the front door. Yuuji pulls his lips into a thin line when you can barely contain the scoff that scratches through your throat. Sukuna rolls his eyes, moving aside to let you both in. He peaks inside the bag Yuuji is holding before his little brother smacks his hand away. “Do not touch or I will kill you.” Yuuji warns him, carrying the ingredients to the kitchen before putting them away.

You decide to help, hoping it will go quicker if you pitch in and you can escape his brother’s intimidating stare faster. Sukuna approaches, leaning over a counter as he watches you both.

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence, princess. It’s been a while.” Sukuna taunts, but you ignore him. He clacks his fingernails against the countertop, and the sound is jarring. He smirks when you shoot him a pointedly aggravated stare, giving him reason to do it more. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

You sigh, nostrils flaring as you put two bars of chocolate in the fridge.

“We’re just hanging out, gonna bake these cookies and smoke.” Yuuji answers for you. So you smile, falsely, and rest your back against the wall once you’re done. “Oh, speaking of which… family discount?”

“I’m busy now.” Sukuna looks at you and then back at his brother. “Ask me later.” he expresses, red eyes fixed on you for a moment before he turns to leave.

It’s like you can finally breathe again when you hear him go to his room and close the door. You kick yourself away from the wall and into Yuuji’s open arms. He smooths his heavy hand over your hair, hoping you’ll relax a little. He spends some time figuring out what you can do to pass some time, knowing you’ll need a distraction.

“Let’s just bake the cookies.” you speak, words muffled as you talk into his shirt. You pull away as he looks down at you so that you can speak to him clearly. “I just wanna stay in your room all night…”

“Sure, baby, whatever you want.” he nods. “Okay, lets get all of the ingredients out again.”

He takes his time trying to remember where everything is. You, on the other hand, are rushing to gather them all. Sukuna has a way of making your anxiety spike. He’s too… commandeering. He has a way of forcing everyone’s attention to remain solely on him whether you try to ignore him or not.

You’re intimidated by him, he’s more muscular than your boyfriend and he’s a drug dealer for fuck sake.

It brings shame to you when Yuuji has to snap his fingers to get you out of your trance as you think about his brother. You start cutting up the chocolate bars while he puts ingredients in the stand mixer.

And your mind wanders, again. It’s not like you’re scared of Sukuna. Well, you are, terrified would be more apt. But you know he wouldn’t do anything to you. He’d risk losing Yuuji. And as much as they don’t really get along, they’re extremely co-dependent. Especially Sukuna. He likes the presence of his little sibling and has a slight superiority complex due to being older.

The reality is, you think Sukuna would be lost without Yuuji. Lonely, even. And having Yuuji’s steady income is a nice sense of security for him. He makes plenty of money being a dealer, of course, but he knows it’s a fools game. It’s not reliable and it’s risky.

You put the chocolate chunks into the mixer and watch him as he masterfully fills the ingredients into the bowl. Your thoughts calm for a moment as you can do nought but watch the whisk whir.

“You know I wanna move in with you eventually, right?” Yuuji tells you, and it fully breaks you from your train of thought. You look at him, staying silent so that he can feel free to continue speaking. He leans against the counter as the ingredients continue to mix. “I wanna live with you… marry you… all that.”

His talk of marriage makes your cheeks fill with heat, though you’ve gotten better at playing things cool since your first encounter. You just smile, and nod, as you drink in the delicious information.

“I’m just worried about him.” he tilts his head, indicating he is referring to his elder brother. You nod in understanding, though you don’t have much sympathy for your future brother-in-law. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. “We aren’t like you, we don’t have a big family. It’s just us.”

“Well my family isn’t that—” you stop yourself, looking into Yuuji’s disappointed eyes. It’s foolish to pretend you aren’t blessed with an adoring family. You’re your parents only child, though. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have a sibling. And, of course, you’re spoilt rotten. The reality is that if you didn’t come from privilege, you and Yuuji could have been neighbours. But your parents weren’t about to let you live in a dangerous neighbourhood when they can easily afford to subsidise you. “It must be tough, baby. I know you feel guilty for wanting to leave him.” you rub your hand up and down his arm as a show of comfort.

“Yeah…”

“But…” you start, his eyes locking with yours again. “He’s a grown man, Yuuji. You’ve lived the same life and look at you now… You’re nothing like him.”

You’re right. He knows you are, that’s why you’re standing in silence until the timer goes off and he checks the ingredient bowl. It’s sticky. He scoops a little on his finger and dots it on your nose. The kitchen fills with laughter as you try to retaliate. He’s too fast for you, though.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he tells you as the situation calms. He licks the chocolatey dough from your nose and presses a gentle kiss onto the tip. And dammit you can’t help but smile.

You begin rolling the dough into balls on a tray. The silence has dissipated, but your thoughts still run rampant. Should Sukuna really be Yuuji’s responsibility? No, of course not. But Yuuji won’t see it that way. He’s sensitive and caring. God, he cares so much.

It makes you dizzy as you watch him smile and walk with the cookies to the oven. They smell so great already, you could have eaten them raw. But they’ll be even better when they’re baked to perfection.

You’ve made these cookies so many times now. The pair of you have process committed to memory. They’re so good. Especially with a tall glass of milk. You always tease Yuuji when you do this since he’s always left with a milk moustache after devouring his plate of cookies.

The sound of the timer rings through the kitchen again. You clap excitedly as Yuuji covers his hands with some oven mitts. The chocolatey smell hits you both like a train, the pair of you moaning involuntarily as you inhale it. He brings them over to the countertop, setting them down to cool.

Sukuna smells it, too. He loves it when you bake cookies because he knows neither of you will deny him one. He’s been smoking and playing video games since he retreated to his room. He’s thoroughly stoned and would very much enjoy a sweet treat right about now. He pauses his game, and the sound of his door opening and closing brings back all of the tension to your body.

“Here.” Sukuna speaks as he enters the kitchen. He tosses a baggie onto the counter and looks at his brother expectantly. Yuuji nods, reaching into his pocket for his wallet so he can pay him. Sukuna’s eyes are fixed on you in the meantime. And as you go to grab the weed, he places his hand over it and pulls it back towards himself.

“Thanks, man.” Yuuji smiles, handing the cash to his brother who pockets it without even checking it’s right. Though Sukuna’s stare doesn’t waver, you find yourself looking down at his hand covering the weed and then turning away completely. He internally beams with pride at that, thrilled to know it’s still so easy to intimidate you. But on the outside it’s simply portrayed as a slight curve of the corner of his mouth. “Is something wrong?” Yuuji wonders.

“Yeah, actually,” Sukuna speaks, finding your eyes again before he looks into Yuuji’s. “I want a cookie, call it family tax.”

“Take two.” you tell him, sternly, a new ferocity in your eyes he hasn’t seen before. You walk over to them and place two cookies on a little plate for him. You go to hand it to him, but as he reaches out to grab them you place them down on the counter. “Let them cool.” you smile, sarcastically.

“Aren’t you sweet.” Sukuna snarls, teeth bared as he slides the plate towards himself. “Sweet enough for your turn. Pay up, you know what I want.” he chuckles. He turns his head and taps his finger against his cheek.

“C’mon, dude…” Yuuji tries to interject. You know Yuuji is furious, deep down. But he won’t call him out on it. Last time he did he wouldn’t give either of you any weed for two weeks. It wouldn’t be a problem if you knew anyone else you could buy from. And the shit Sukuna gets is good. Yuuji has given up on trying to be a dominating presence when it comes to living with his brother. Sukuna is always one step ahead and Yuuji can’t quite keep up.

You go to him, reluctantly, and plant a soft kiss to his cheek. It makes your skin crawl. He makes your skin crawl. And despite your sense of urgency to flee the scene, you can’t. His hand grabs your wrist, and Yuuji is ready to spring to action. Sukuna’s face is unbearably close to yours. His red eyes piercing your own as he does all he can to make you feel small and pathetic.

“That’s a good girl.” he sneers, placing the baggie on the top of your hand after releasing your wrist. He chuckles, darkly, as he walks away with his plate of cookies, taking a bite out of one before he disappears. He kicks his bedroom door shut behind himself, the sound of laughter and guns shooting loudly from his TV are the only thing either of you can hear.

“I’ll bring the cookies and clean up.” Yuuji sighs as he ventures to the sink. “Go and get comfy and pick a movie.”

You don’t say anything, leaving your boyfriend to tidy up in silence. You’re seething with rage. This isn’t right. He does this every single time you’re here and you buy a deal from him. And Yuuji just lets him. You know you neither of you have much choice if you want the access and ability to smoke. But it’s getting to you, badly.

Around fifteen minutes pass after you left the kitchen. You’ve since gotten into your sweatpants and comfortable vest. Shorts would have been preferable, since there’s still an uncomfortable sizzle to the November air, but you’ve learnt your lesson about what you wear when you visit the Itadori household. You’ve had Sukuna leer at your thighs more times than you can count. And it’s never subtle, his eyes lingering for a moment too long to have it potentially be an accident. It’s always so lecherous and purposeful.

You decide to watch Clueless, again. You’re sure Yuuji will be defeated when he sees your choice, he’s lost count of how many times you’ve watched it recently. It’s been a comfort movie to you, for some reason, since Halloween.

“Hey.” Yuuji smiles as he enters the room, somehow managing to carry two glasses of milk and two plates of cookies. “What are we watching?” he asks, looking at the TV. You rush to grab a plate and a glass from his hands to ease his load, putting them on your bedside cabinet as he does the same with his own.

“Clueless.” you smile, happily. “Her step-brother has been hitting really different for me, lately.”

He closes his eyes and stifles a sigh. You can see a laugh desperate to break free as his mouth shakes through a smile. But to his credit, he manages to compose himself, eyes opening again once the reality has set in. Clueless. Again!

“Sounds great baby.”

It’s been a week since you last got to spent time with Yuuji. Your work schedules have been clashing, it feels like a lifetime since you got to spend any time together.

You enjoyed your hash browns in bed after he ordered them for you when you stayed over at his place. Though he ended up ordering Sukuna breakfast, too, leading to uncomfortable extended time with him that you prefer to avoid at all costs. He tried to make conversation with you, he often does, but you took it upon yourself to go back to bed with your hash browns. You tried to enjoy them. You tried to relax. But it’s near impossible when you’re under the same roof as someone you loathe. You watched a Youtube video on your phone while you ate, and then quickly got ready and booked a taxi home.

You’d hoped next time you got to see your boyfriend it would be at your house and away from Sukuna. But, alas, that was not the case. You received a text from him at 10am asking you to come over ASAP.

YOU: is something wrong??

YUUJI: no

YUUJI: just stressed

YUUJI: pls can u come? I’m working tomorrow so I cant stay over ☹️

YOU: okay ☹️ omw 💖

You’ve never had a text like this from him before, and it scared you. Something was telling you that he was downplaying how he was feeling. It took you barely any time to get ready. Forgoing makeup and making an effort in favour of rushing to your boyfriend’s side. Maybe something had happened at work.

Maybe he cheated on you.

He could be dying!

“Shut up…” you whisper to yourself as you pack your toothbrush into its travel case and throw it into your overnight bag. You pick up your car keys, not wanting to waste time waiting for a taxi.

You throw your bag on the passenger seat and speedily drive off. Your anxiety and the adrenaline was getting to you, you knew you’d have to calm down or you’d end up getting into an accident. As you focused on getting to your destination in one piece, you took several deep, slow breaths.

You’re safe.

You park up your car and lock it up. With your bag in tow, you rush to your boyfriend’s apartment. Your left foot taps impatiently after you knock on the door.

No answer.

You knock a little louder.

No answer.

And then you find yourself knocking louder, repeatedly, while you wait for your boyfriend to answer the door. He knew you were coming. He said it was urgent. So why are you waiting here, freezing, for him to answer the door? You’re filled with relief when you see his figure obscuring the light trickling through the cracks of the door. Your teeth chatter, and you begin stepping from foot to foot in a bid to warm through.

But your blood runs cold as the wrong Itadori opens the door.

“Heh. What do you want?” he asks, a cocky grin permeating his features.

“Move.” you demand, barging past him with your bag so that you can hurry to Yuuji’s side. Maybe something is wrong. He could be sick and resting in bed.

“He’s not here.” Sukuna informs you, halting you in your tracks. You turn to face him, a scowl that could kill adorning your face. Did he do something to him? All fear you’ve ever felt from him dies as you approach him, setting down your bag so that you can hit or punch or scratch him if needs be. “Relax.” he tells you.

“Where is he?”

“At work. I thought you had your entire relationship on a Google calendar, you didn’t know?” he laughs, angling his body so that he can bypass you in the skinny hallway. You huff a little, picking up your bag again so that you can follow him.

“But he asked me to come over, he said it was urgent.” you explain, though he doesn’t stop walking. You hurry after him, grabbing his arm until he stops. And he does, his eyes slowly dart down to where your hand holds onto his bicep until you awkwardly let go. “S-Sorry. I’m just confused. Why would he text me if he’s not even here?”

“Sweetheart, I’m not his PA. I don’t fucking know.” he turns away from you again, opening his bedroom door. You huff, again, utterly defeated as you try and decide what to do. You look towards his bedroom door and then to the entrance. You suppose you could go home until he finishes work. Or you could go to the gym he works at and find out what’s happening. You head towards the front door, thinking you’ll decide once you start driving. Sukuna hasn’t fully retreated into his room yet, leaning against his door frame as he calls out to you. “I’m making a bucket, want one?”

Your eyebrows knot as you turn to face him, another involuntary scoff turning to laughter as you look at him in disbelief. He’s got some nerve. You don’t even want to respond, opting to carry on your journey towards the entrance before you look at him again.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? I don’t want to smoke with you.” you roll your eyes.

“Awe, why not, princess? I won’t even add any tax.” he smirks, already heading towards the kitchen as if you’ve given him the answer he clearly wants to hear. And you hate him with your whole heart, because fuck, if you aren’t intrigued. It’s been a while since you’ve had a gravity bong. “Excellent choice, good girl.” he winks as he sees you out of the corner of his eye, as he grabs an empty one litre water bottle from beneath the sink.

You don’t say anything, leaning over the island counter as he prepares the bong for you both. It’s embarrassing, after some time, that you find yourself having to avert your gaze as realise you’ve been staring at his defined back muscles. He’d decided to forgo any form of clothing to cover his torso, only wearing a low riding pair of grey sweatpants, though they’re a darker grey than yours.

It isn’t much better as he whistles, tilting his head for you to join him by the sink. You’d close your eyes if it didn’t make you look like a complete freak, only to hide them from his flexing abs and his juicy pecs. The tattoos aren’t helping, either. It only serves as a reminder that you’re hopelessly trying not to ogle your boyfriends, older, larger, and scarier brother. He’s behaving interestingly, though. He’s never been like this before. He’s dismissive and almost uninterested in you.

“C’mere.” he orders you, dragging you closer to him as he lights the weed in the bowl. You gulp, a little intimidated. Gravity bongs are something you don’t partake in often, you can’t even remember the last time you did one. He moves his finger from the hole he’d poked into the bottle and the water begins to drain from it. Smoke fills the bottle in it’s wake, and when empty, he screws the lid off for you. “Quickly.”

You begin to inhale everything. Not caring how fucked up you feel in the least. You show no signs of stopping, and it impresses him. Your fingers hook around the kitchen counter as you finish, knowing when your bones feel like jelly that you’ve had too much.

“Atta girl,” he comments before repeating the process for himself. He pays you no mind as you wander towards the corner counter space, lifting yourself up like you’re the queen of the kitchen taking her throne.

He continues to ignore your presence as he smokes, inhaling and entirely draining the smoke that had filled the bottle. He tosses it into the sink, walking by you to grab a bag of ice from the freezer, filling two glasses to the brim with the frozen cubes. He fills them with water, sliding one to you.

“Drink.” he commands, and you do, not realising how thirsty you’d become. Your throat burning and eyes flooded with red veins. You drink the water and immediately need to refill. He shows you a kindness, though, handing you his glass to drink before filling your own again. “You’re a real lightweight, huh?”

“Oh shut up. I’m just gonna go.” you tell him, jumping down from the counter and going to collect your bag again.

“You can’t, you’re high.” he reminds you, and in your stoned state the sentence makes you burst into laughter. “You’ll end up crashing your car. Fool.” he gives you another glass of water, refilling his own for a second time before turning to leave the kitchen.

“Great, so I’m stuck here with you and nothing to do?” you pout, opening the fridge to see if there’s anything to eat. “Why did we not make cookies?” you mumble to yourself.

“I have snacks in my room.” Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, like a snake offering an apple in the garden of Eden. You’re tempted. God, you’re tempted. What else are you going to do until Yuuji gets home? He grins, widely, as he hears your feet follow after him as he walks into his bedroom.

You’ve never been in here before. It’s quite tidy, all things considered. It’s very tidy, actually. You’d expected it to be some dimly lit shit hole. It smells nice, save for the weed, the windows are open wide and the sheets smell fresh as you sit on his bed.

He throws a sleeve of Oreos at you and you turn into a giddy child. The two of you kick off your shoes, not caring for where they land as you both get comfortable on his bed. You’re above the duvet, sitting adjacent to him but angled away with your legs crossed. He gets under the covers, though, picking up his Xbox controller as he mindlessly plays GTA V.

You spend far too much time licking the cream of your first Oreo, utterly entranced by the characters, the plot and the violence of the game he’s playing. He doesn’t seem to mind when you ask him a million questions about it, either. He’s more amused that you’re so clueless.

“Here,” he tosses the controller at you. “Go for a drive, it’s fun when you’re stoned.” he tells you.

You’ve played video games before, you aren’t a total idiot. Though he had expected you to ask for more help when he gave you the controller. He thinks it’s cute that you try to obey the speed limits and stop at every red light.

He reaches into his bedside cabinet, pulling out a joint. It’s ignited quickly, his eyes squinting as he inhales and watches the screen to make sure you’re not getting him into trouble on his game.

“You’re not bad when you’re high.” you tell him, passing the controller back to him. He takes it from you, saving his progress before reaching out to smoke again. He sits upright, and you barely react when he pulls you away from where you were sitting until you're facing him. “U-Um…”

He’s giving you a look. That look. The look Yuuji gave you when he told you he had a secret. God, they could be fucking twins if Sukuna wasn’t covered in tattoos, it’s scary. But he doesn’t say he has a secret; he doesn’t say a word. He simply watches you with a pondering stare, but an aim behind his eyes nonetheless.

Your own eyes shift when you see him bring the spliff from his ashtray to his lips. The cherry end of it igniting holds your focus before your eyes are on his again, enraptured by the moment and what he’s thinking. He sucks the smoke deep down into his lungs, and you can’t help but watch the way his chest moves from his heavy breath.

You gasp, softly, as he snatches your stare once again. His thumb and forefinger grasp your chin and tug downwards until your jaw is lowered. His face is barely a centimetre from yours, you know he’s going to kiss you. But why are you about to let him? His lips ghost yours, and you’re taken aback as you feel a plume of smoke invade your mouth. He’s impressed when you breathe it in, though, but smirks wildly as you begin to cough it up.

“You taste like cookies and cream.” he whispers into your ear, the sensation of his words rushes straight to your heat. But your sense comes back, pushing him away from you as you look sternly into his eyes.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” you remind him, preparing to move back to where you were sitting prior. But he stops you, easily, pushing your body down until your head is in his lap but over the duvet cover. “Sukuna…” you sigh, your head and your limbs feel too heavy to move on their own anymore.

“Mm?”

“I’m wi- I’m with Yuuji… I’m with your brother.” you remind him, you move your head a little so that you can look up at him. He doesn’t look at you, though, still focused on his game. You can hear dialogue again, and guns, you’re not as exciting in comparison to that, you suppose.

“I know.” he speaks, his jawline bulging as he swallows and clenches his teeth slightly. “Don’t tell me you thought I was gonna kiss you. Silly girl.” he speaks, still not bothering to grant you with the eye contact you’re so desperately craving for some reason.

But your body betrays you as a whimper escapes from your throat. And that does get his attention. His game pauses, and he looks down at you. But you hide your face, scrunching your eyes shut so he can’t read your expression. But your shy little display tells him all he needs to know.

“Oh? You minx,” he torments you further, and you want to scream. You can’t hide your face anymore, your cheeks becoming too warm and your entire body sizzling with heat. You’re panting, uncomfortably as you try and cool down. “You wanted me to kiss you. You’re with Yuuji, remember?”

“I didn’t! I- I- would never. I love Yuuji, I’m in love with him! I’d never kiss you. Yuck.” you fib, if you weren’t high, you know you’d never be in this predicament. You know you’d never have agreed to hang out with him. But really, it’s a lie. You weren’t high when he asked if you wanted to do buckets. He intrigued you, and you’re a fool, because you fell for it. Hook, line and sinker.

“Hm…” he hums, his spliff resting between his lips as his eyes linger on your cleavage before roaming down your body to your sweatpants. He places the blunt back in the ashtray, his eyes setting their sights on your hands. He moves one with ease above your head, though you instinctively pull it back. But it’s too late, the other one joins, a singular hand of his pin both of your wrists down above your head. You wriggle against him, but you don’t pose a challenge in the least.

“S-Sukuna?” you question as his fingers breach the waistline of your sweatpants. A sadistic smirk sprawls across his face as he realises in your haste to be here you’d not bothered putting on panties. You mewl, desperately, as his fingers find your petalled flesh. He doesn’t do much, simply feeling your slick and teasing your folds as he examines your facial expressions.

“You didn’t want me to kiss you?” he asks again. He drags two fingers up your slippery slit until he finds your clit, rubbing targeted circles around it slowly. The tension makes your hips buck, but his face is stern as he watches you keen for him. “Then why is this cunt soaked?”

His words almost bring you to tears, and he can tell. The way they fill with water so rapidly and your face becomes sweaty. You’re ashamed. You’re embarrassed. He’s humiliating you, but you’re too turned on to tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop.

“I hate you!” you tell him, and there is certainly venom behind it. Because you mean it, you really fucking mean it. He’s the absolute worst. You’re so in love with Yuuji, but he’s ruined everything, now. You should have known this would happen. He’s been flirting and teasing and bothering you throughout your entire relationship with Yuuji. But you never thought it would come to this, ever. Especially after what you’ve been through, you’d never want to inflict that same agonising betrayal onto Yuuji.

“I know. You think I’m so beneath you, yeah?” he grins, and your mouth falls open in surprise, though his circling touch doesn’t stop. “I’m a drug dealer, I’m a bastard, I’m a piece of shit. But, sweetheart, me ‘n Yuuji didn’t grow up with daddy’s bank account like you. But look at you, princess. You hate me and you’re still letting me play with your sloppy cunt.”

“Fuck you.”

“You can, I know you want that. You’re drenched. My fuckin’ fingers are pruning.” he laughs, you want nothing more than to cover your face in shame, but you can’t while Sukuna’s heavy hand trap your wrists. “Awe, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed. Much cuter than when you’re trying to be tough f’me.” his rubbing halts, though the sense of abandonment is short lived as he plunges two thick fingers into you tight hole, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit again.

“O-Oh, fuck, hnng—” you groan, eyes meeting his as he pleasures you. And he drinks in the sight. Your tongue lolled from your mouth as you accommodate his touch, the pads of his fingers batter your g-spot again and again until your back arches. “Sukuna, s-stop, we can’t.” you warn him.

He smirks, ignoring you, opting to do the opposite. He increases the pace in which his fingers torment you, his cock leaks when he sees a few tears spill from your eyes. He’s that good, huh? Maybe his little brother isn’t as talented.

“You’re fucking tight. You’re gonna cum, aren’tcha?” he taunts you, you attempt to clamp your thighs around his hand, but it only spurs him on more. His fingers sink deeper. Your mind and rationale become lost to him. “You’re gonna cum for a bastard like me? Your boyfriends brother, too. Gonna cum in your pants like a virgin just for me? Pathetic little girl.”

“Oh FUCK, GOD!” you cry out, thighs trembling around his hand as you orgasm. Your chest heaves, and he doesn’t fail to notice how your nipples have began to poke through your vest. “C-Christ, okay, lets just forget—”

“I’m not done with you.” he speaks, it cuts through you as he lets your hands go. You massage them quickly, before he pushes his full weight on top of you as you lie flat against the mattress atop the sheets. He holds your jaw, roughly, and kisses you.

He humps his clothed, hard cock against your soaked sweatpants, your slick dampening them with each roll of his hips. He breathes heavily as you kiss. An exchange of saliva and clashing teeth as you moan and break away before licking at each other’s tongues again and again.

You shudder when you feel him put his hands down your pants again, collecting the dewiness at the apex of your thighs before forcing it onto your tongue. And you suck, gratefully, replacing the loss of his lips with his monstrously thick fingers. You can hardly believe he fingered you so easily.

Your lips wrap around his digits beautifully. He moans as he watches your little hands in comparison to his own hold it in place so you can bob your head up and down the length, your tongue licks and laves until there isn’t a trace of your dewiness left.

So he kisses you, again, tongues tangling as he dry fucks his cock into your clothed core. His hands roam and pinch and squeeze every inch of your body that he can grab. He yanks your sweatpants down, tossing them aside with little care to where they might land. And he surprises you, again, when he manoeuvres you seamlessly so that you’re straddling him.

He thinks it’s cute as you look around, unsure of how you got into this position. But he brings you back to him when he humps up into you so that you fall forwards. You kiss him again, but he breaks it to speak.

“Let me taste you, baby. Sit on my face.” he tells you. You’re nervous, but you move yourself so that you’re hovering above him. He pushes a finger into your hole and you throw your head back in satisfaction. “I said sit. I wanna know what a slutty princess cunt tastes like, so fucking sit.” he orders, his arms hooking around your thighs and forcing you down until you smother him with your heat.

“FUCK,” you moan, loudly, as his nose nudges against your throbbing clit. You aren’t sure what to do with so much freedom to move. The way he slurps and feasts on your dripping flesh sends wave after wave of embarrassment through you. And he’s loud he’s so fucking noisy as he moans into your heat and drinks every drop that your heavenly cunt has to offer. “J-Jesus… ah—!” you yelp, feeling his palm come down hard to strike your behind.

You begin to roll your hips, rubbing your pussy up and down over his face and stimulating your clit with his nose. He reaches under your vest, tweaking your nipple as you hump his face. He spanks you again, quickly, as you stop moving. You’re too gone, completely lost in the moment as you use him for your pleasure. You’d never have expected this from him.

He relinquishes your nipple to free his cock from it’s material prison. You heard the sticky sound of it ring through the room as he jerks himself off. His moaning becomes louder. The divine taste of your cunt and the ability to stroke himself goes straight to his head. You’re gone, you’re fucking gone. But he’s right behind you. The way you’re smothering him makes him lightheaded, but he’s not letting you go until he’s ready.

You see the pink silhouette of his cock as you look over your shoulder, but you’re desperate to get a better view. He groans, so loudly that you think he might have came, as you tug on his pink hair. Using it to your advantage as you ride his face into your next toe-curling orgasm. And at that, you do collapse. Practically singing his name as you cum in his mouth, only when you’ve reached your high does he let up on you.

He admires the view of your tits as you back up to look down at him, throwing your vest over your head as carelessly as he’s discarded your pants. His face is shimmering with your juices, and you feel another searing tidal wave of embarrassment as the reality sets in that you’ve done this to him. And you’re still cheating on your boyfriend. But you’re past the point of no return, you think. Yuuji is barely on your mind, all of your attention is on his brother, now.

And he’s still not through with you yet.

“Do you need some cock?” he asks.

“Y-Yes.” you nod, pathetically.

“Look at it, then. Look at my cock and beg for it.” he tells you.

You adjust your position so that you’re hovering above his face again but facing his cock perfectly. It’s beautiful, you think. More defined than Yuuji’s but around the same size and width. His cockhead is more prominent and the veins are unmissable. You’d have begged without even being asked if you’d gotten the chance to see it earlier.

“Go on,” he starts. You feel his hands between your shoulder blades and he pushes you down roughly. “Beg for my cock, whore.”

“Please, please Sukuna. I need you to fuck me.” you start, completely reduced to tears as you look at it as your mouth waters. You hold him with both hands, and you’re still unable to hold the entire length of it. “Wanna cum on you. W-Want you to b-bruise my cervix. Need to feel you inside, please, please please.” you’re practically sobbing as you continue.

“Kiss it.” he demands. “Worship my cock, and I’ll decide if your slutty cunt is worthy.” he tells you. Your eyes widen, but you kiss his tip without question. It’s so sweet and affectionate despite how sordid and lewd it is. But you can’t help it. It’s worthy of worship. You’re sure it’ll hurt, but you’ll take it. You don’t mind in the least.

You lick your tongue across his slit, poking your tongue into it slightly and relishing in how he hisses from the sensation. He buries his face in your cunt again, moaning into your soaking folds as you please him.

His length is freed from one of your hands, making the decision to cup his balls as your kiss down his shaft towards his pubis. His head is thrown back as you make contact with his balls, the grunt he releases is ethereal, you’d never have known such beautiful sounds could from him.

You scream, slightly, as he spanks your ass. It encourages you to take him down your throat and ignore your gag reflex and you bob and suck and run your tongue along each vein it can detect. He can barely focus on eating you out, too bewildered with your near pornographic performance.

“Such a good little cocksucker. No wonder Yuuji likes you.” he spanks you again. “Think he’d still like you if I told him I’ve been balls deep down your throat, slut? I’m not so sure. But I like you, a lot more now.”

“S-Shut up.” you tell him, defiantly. You silence him as you lower your pussy to his lips again, distracting him momentarily with your sweet taste.

You feel his cock flexing in your hand, like he’s ready to blow his load right down your willing throat. Even though you don’t want him to cum like this, you wouldn’t mind. You’ll swallow every last drop for him.

He stops you, though, shoving you away from him so that he doesn’t cum prematurely.

“Hands and knees, now.” he speaks coldly. He admires your face quickly before you get into the position he wants you in. It’s glistening with sweat, tears, spit, and his precum. “Good fucking girl.” he spanks you as you arch your back and wait patiently for him. Your legs spread apart and your cunt pulses in anticipation for him to slot himself inside.

He doesn’t though, not right away. Instead, he leans over to his beside table and pulls his phone off charge. He kneels behind you as he pulls up the camera app and swiping to video mode. His sweatpants are shoved down his thighs and rest at his knees. He takes a few photos of your glittering, pulsating cunt, spreading it open as his fingers dig into one of your ass cheeks.

“Pretty fuckin’ princess pussy…” he moans, and you mirror him, following it with a giggle. You feel a sense of pride at his praise, arching your back deeper. “Ohhh there she is, good girl, good little slut.”

He drags his cockhead through your shimmering folds, gasping each time it catches against your hole.

“P-Please fuck me, daddy, n-eed it.” you whine, earning another hard slap against your ass. He’s happy, of course. He didn’t expect you to be such a slut, he’d never have expected you to utter such a filthy title for him of all people. He’s certainly never heard you refer to Yuuji as daddy whenever he hears you fucking through the thin walls.

“You’ve got good manners, for a whore.” he speaks, your hole flutters with each word, but he sees how hard you clench as he degrades you. A new understanding of what your body likes. He’d only been doing it for his benefit, but now, he knows you like it too. “Do you like being a whore for daddy, hm?”

“Y-Yes,” you pant, “Love bein’ a whore for you, daddy…”

“Cute. I’ll give you my cock, then.” he pushes the tip in before pulling out completely again, chuckling at how whiny you are from the loss. “But you know, princess, good whores like to be cummed in. You’ll let me, won’t you?”

“Please… please cum inside. W-Want you to fill me up!” you tell him, and it’s enough. It’s more than enough to have him bullying his cock into your desperate cunt. You moan, boisterously from the stretch. You’re sure their neighbours won’t be happy if they’re home, the whole complex probably heard you. But you don’t care, and neither does he.

He’s glad that you said he could cum inside.

It’s not like you had a choice, though.

“Do you still want me to bruise your cervix?” he asks, angling the phone in his hand to capture how fucking deep he is inside of you. Your ass pressed flush against him as you swallow his cock hungrily. You nod, dumbly, yelping again when you feel a stinging slap against your cushioned ass. “Words.”

“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.” you wince.

“You’re such a good fuck toy, aren’t you?” he laughs.

He begins to pound into you, his brute strength and weight behind every aggressive pummel of his hips. It hurts, God, it fucking hurts as his tip nudges against your cervix. But you don’t care, you’re sure you will when you’re sober and your logical train of thought returns.

But now, in this moment, you truly are Sukuna’s fuck toy.

And it feels fucking sublime.

He captures on film the way that you moan and gasp and plead for something you aren’t even aware of. The way your hands grip into his pristine white sheets. But is favourite part is watching how your pussy stretches open as you swallow his coke can cock. And the way your ass ripples with each pulverizing thrust into you.

“F-Fuck,” he moans, “You’re fucking suffocating me.” he speaks, barely able to contain himself as he feels heady with lust. He doesn’t stop, though, he doesn’t care if you cum anymore. He’ll finger you again to finish you off if needs be, but for now, he needs to be selfish. Thoughts of filling you up and flooding your unprotected womb make him feral.

“Sukuna! S-Stop!” you warn him.

“Huh?” he responds, showing no intention of stopping or slowing as he rams his cock into you repeatedly. The only thing on his mind is finishing, he couldn’t care less about your change of heart or guilty conscience.

“F-Feels funny, I- I can’t! Hnnng—!” you finish, cunt squirting and gushing like a fountain all over him. “Oh my god…” you pant, burying your face in the pillows as you hide your shame from him.

“Holy fuck,” he responds, thrilled that he’d captured the moment on film. You show no signs of stopping either. You squirt as much as a backed-up teenager getting his first handjob. He spanks your pussy and rubs his hand all over it, making a complete mess of the two of you and the sheets below. “Dirty little squirter, hah? Fuck, you’re like a pornstar.” he tells you, chuckling again.

You don’t dare show your face, but you mewl into the pillows as you ride out the rest of your high as he shoves his cock back into you.

“Do it again, on my cock.” he demands.

“C-Can’t, can’t cum anymore.” you tell him, utterly spent and defeated as you allow him to use your body for his own benefit.

“Brat. You’ll cum on daddy’s cock and be grateful that I’ve been so good to you.” he explains. And true to his word, he manages to build it up in you again, somehow, as he continuously batters his length into your g-spot until your vision turns white.

He’s not doing much better, either, still enraptured by the sight of your dripping wet pussy and soiled sheets. It’s something he needs to see again, a sight he will treasure ‘til the day he fucking dies.

“Cum, slut. Make a fucking mess.” he speaks through gritted teeth.

“Mmmnf, hah, aaaah—!” you moan, granting his wish. The sight helps him topple over into his own bliss. His cum flooding your ruined walls, he fucks it further into you, but pulls out eventually to see his sperm dripping from your filthy cunt.

“Are you embarrassed, brat? You sprayed yourself again.” he snickers, spreading your pussy open with two fingers to see the mixture of his cum and your release spill from your twitching hole. “Has Yuuji ever made you do that? No… I’m sure he doesn’t know you’re this much of a dirty whore. But I do, I know now.”

The mere mention of the man you’ve betrayed has you bursting into tears. The sex was mind-blowing, yes, but at what cost? You’ve been begging him to move in. Hell, he was talking about marrying you. But you can’t have that with him, now, not after this.

You sobered up a little after a shower, making sure to keep the door locked as you washed yourself of your indiscretion. You even waited in there until you dried off to get changed, not wanting to risk Sukuna seeing you naked again. The damage is done, of course, but you at least want to be able to proudly say it was a mistake that will never happen again.

Maybe Yuuji will forgive you.

There’s no way you can keep it from him. Not after what you went through. It’ll break his heart, of course it will. But you can’t hide it, it’ll just get worse over time when it eventually comes out, because it will. Whether you tell him or Sukuna does through a weed induced stupor, the truth will come out.

You’ve been checking the time on your phone repeatedly to see if Yuuji has finished work yet. Eager and filled with fear and anxiety so that you can tell him, honestly, what happened. He’s going to hate you. There’s no way he won’t hate you after this. But you owe it to him and you owe it to yourself to be truthful.

You tense up as you hear a knock at the door. Yuuji wouldn’t knock, so you know who it is.

“Go away.” you warn him, but it doesn’t deter him.

“Aw, don’t talk to daddy like that.” he smiles, a shit eating grin that you want to smash against concrete.

“You’ve ruined my life, get out of here.” you tell him, crossing your legs as you check the time on your phone again. You sigh, throwing it further down the bed so that it’s out of reach. You’d missed how he shrugged his shoulders with a laugh as he turned to leave. But you stop him. “Don’t tell Yuuji, please. I want to be the one to tell him.”

“Tell him… what?”

You look at him, bewildered, unable to process if he’s being serious or not.

“That we fucked.” you remind him, deciding you aren’t about to spend all day trying to decipher his tone. “I need to be the one to tell him, so don’t say anything.”

“Oh, tell him that?” he questions, laughing again as he realises he knows something you don’t know.

“It’s not fucking funny, Sukuna!”

“Yeah, it is, you’re a little slow on the uptake.” he laughs some more, sitting on the edge of the bed. His ruby red eyes piercing into yours intimidatingly despite the smile on his face. “You don’t need to tell Yuuji anything.”

“Yeah, I d—”

“Yuuji knows.” he laughs, louder, almost bursting into hysterics as he sees the astonished look on your face.

“W-What?” you sigh, looking around the room in horror.

“Yeah… I mean, c’mon.” he smirks. “Why else would he text you to come over, when he wasn’t even home?”

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spstoui · 3 months

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God he’s so fine I wanna see my blood on his hands

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bluurange · 2 months

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this game has got me insane and even though work n life has been punching me, i'm at the Narinder battle rn and HHHHHH many thoughts so far lmao

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #narilamb #???? i guess??? kinda lmao i have many MANY thoughts about them toxic lovely devotion and praises of each other ngl #tw blood #tw decapitated head

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pinkroseblooms · 2 months

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Boy Toy

Sugar baby!Toji Fushiguro x Sugar mama!f!Reader

Summary: You try to break things off with Toji; needless to say, he does not take it well. wc: 5.1 Warnings and tags: this story contains smut, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, begging, emotional manipulation, toxic behavior/relationships, some soft!dom/bratty!sub elements, a clingyyandere!toji, possessive behavior, obsessive love, some angst, some fluff, all twisted af.

a/n: I see a lot of Sugar daddy!Toji content and wanted to switch things up a bit with some emotional feels. I also ended up listening to Rick Montgomery's "Boy Toy" on repeat and got ideas. Personally I headcanon that if Toji ever did somehow develop genuine love for another person it wouldn't necessarily help him chill out this time around, he'd just become more unhinged.

His things are in a pile, close to the solid red oak door; they’ve been packed away in brand new luggage carriers and on top is the duffle bag Toji had initially used to carry his stuff in for overnight stays.

If it were anyone else, Toji would have expected the various articles of clothing and personal items that had steadily accumulated inside your spacious home to be thrown out carelessly like trash on your equally spacious lawn. That or burning in the firepit.

If it was anyone else but you, it’s what Toji would have expected, but you weren’t petty that way; even now as you stand before him, arms crossed, gaze almost blank, you radiate a certain measure of dignity. It’s one of those things Toji’s come to admire about you over the past year. It’s effortless, that magnetizing charm you exude; he liked it right away.

“You can keep the bags, sell them if you want.” Your lips form a small but rueful smile. “I sent you a check; call it a severance fee.”

“I thought I didn’t work for you anymore.”

Toji hasn’t considered you a client in months, though really, a mark was more accurate. You were disgustingly wealthy with a cute face and that was all he needed to pounce on the offer to be your bodyguard and occasional companion to the odd social events. Even cleaned up and polished, Toji was able to keep others away in droves, exactly what you were aiming for; you found social obligations tedious and his handsome yet intimidating presence kept everyone around you from lingering too long and insisting on taking up too much of your time and attention. Toji spent the first three or so months in your company essentially as an employee and he was satisfied with the arrangement. It would have been so easy and simple, it should have been, had you not burrowed your way into his head, like a bullet piercing bone.

Dammit he never should have fucked you. Toji had every intention of keeping things professional. He should have kept his distance, he certainly shouldn’t have let his fingers trace your skin after zipping up your dress, and damn you by the way for looking over your shoulder at him with those pretty doe eyes and not telling him off when the second you caught Toji leaning in, almost like he wasn’t realizing he was doing it, to get a whiff of your scent mixed with the perfume he had said was his favorite.

“You don’t have to keep the charade up anymore; it’s insulting at this point. I won’t force you to stay here.”

“You’re dumping me.”

“No. That would mean we were actually dating. Toji…Fushiguro-san, I made a mistake.” You’re almost talking to yourself as you look over Toji’s tensed shoulders to the entrance of your home. “I was fooling myself, thinking you could open your heart to me. But, I knew what I signed up for. So, no, I won’t leave you without any job security until you find your next meal ticket.”

“You’re not-”

“I heard you. Please, it’s not like you to back track on your words, so don’t start on my account.”

Toji was bragging over the phone, giving a verbal middle finger to an asshole of a former employer who demanded Toji’s services for a hit. You overheard him refer to you as a “piggy bank” with a pretty face, among other things. Shortly after ending the call, Toji left to work out (he couldn’t get too lazy, got to keep in shape to protect his favorite girl) and grab some food (on your card) only to return to this. You didn't even give Toji a chance to greet you with the usual flurry of kisses and a bear hug before telling him point blank he was leaving and now.

Even as Toji struggles to wrap his mind around your abrupt change in demeanor, with that practiced look of almost serene impassivity, you look so good to him, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and tiny bike shorts. You always dress down at home, in comfy, baggy things. Toji supposes you packed away all the sweatshirts you’ve collected from him with everything else of his.

“You won’t even let me apologize?” Toji stands stiffly in the foyer, next to the bags; behind him is the front door, still open, as if waiting for him to step outside. “It was all shit talking. I didn’t mean how it sounded.”

“That doesn’t make it better and it’s not just that. You’ve been hot and cold lately. Admit it: you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge me as anything but an obligation.” You exhale slowly, rubbing your temple. “I’ve tried to be understanding; you lost your wife and I realized it would be hard. I knew that, I knew there was a chance that no matter how close we became, I was never going to be enough for you.”

You put up a good front, but Toji can recognize the faint tremble in your voice, see how your jaw locks slightly, as though you’re holding back curses. He’s hurt you.

“Baby, c’mere?” Toji opens his arms with a pleading half smile. “You’ve been stressed lately, that’s all. You’ve been working hard and I haven’t been showing my appreciation properly, is that it?”

“Oh spare me. Listen, I won’t swear revenge or sick henchmen on your trail.” You go on, calm as can be, not budging an inch. “The check won’t bounce and all your things are there; if I missed anything, I’ll send it to you. You’re free to go.”

Toji stares at you in disbelief, arms dropping to his sides. You could have just as easily said "you're dismissed" with that cutting tone of yours.

“Are you fucking serious?”

When you fail to respond, he suddenly turns from you, but not to storm off. Instead, Toji slams the front door closed so hard, it’s a wonder the whole structure didn’t come crashing down. You don’t so much as flinch when Toji strides up to get in your face.

“I want my stuff out of these bags.” he snarls. "Now."

“There’s no need to make a scene. It’s not like you’ll be without a benefactor for long; I bet you could find another meal ticket just walking down my driveway. The whole neighborhood is full of lonely rich women, you can have your pick.”

“You’re not a meal ticket. You know that, you know I didn’t mean it dammit!”

“Enough.” You raise a hand up, your voice clipped. “Fushiguro-san, you have your things, plenty of money, and my own promise to leave you in peace. What more could you possibly want? What exactly is it that you’re holding out for? You don’t expect me to fund you indefinitely, I’m sure.”

"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even give a shit?"

Toji’s hands clenched into fists; he’s radiating power and murderous intent, but you don’t look swayed or even scared. You know he wouldn’t strike you. Just the idea sickens him; no, it’s not you he’s actually angry with.

“I’m a fucking idiot who wanted to show off, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine. Now we’re gonna talk this out like adults, I’ll put this shit back-"

“No, you will not. I want it gone. I want you gone. Don’t you understand?” You tell him firmly, eyes finally averting to the pile of bags. Toji’s puffed chest deflates at the sadness that finally touches your inflection. “I’m disappointed enough as it is; can’t you do this one thing for my sake? Why are you insisting on dragging this out?”

“I want to put it all back.” Toji blurts out stubbornly, so loud his voice echoes in the high ceilings. “You can’t do this to me, I want to stay.”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “What exactly am I ‘doing to you’?”

“Come on, this is so silly, kicking me out over a misunderstanding.” Toji lowers his voice, a smile coming to his lips as he attempts to charm you once again, hands coming up to gently grasp your shoulders. “You’re breakin’ my heart here. You said it yourself, it’s a been over a year, you know me-”

“Do I?”

“Yes!” Toji steps forward, a strained grin on his lips. “You do. You know me and you know you’re my best girl.”

“Out of all the others?”

“Best and only; I haven’t been with anyone else in months.” Toji rubs his hands over your arms but you only give him a look of derision. “I’m not lying; tell you the truth, ever since we went out to the beach, it’s only been you. Remember that trip?” he grins softly, nuzzles your temple; he knows you want to lean into him, you’re just being stubborn. How adorable. He loves when you get grumpy and need his help relaxing. “I showed you how to make a fire and we fell asleep outside on the hammock. That night was something else...you’ve been the only one ever since. Baby, I swear, there haven't been any other women.”

Toji inches closer, hands shaking slightly where they grip your shoulders; his love bites are still visible, some more faint than others; his arms ache to hold you. You’re so close, so what’s with this wall you’re putting up?

"I want to believe that."

"It's the truth."

Toji isn’t sure how or when it began, but before he knew it, you were calling just to talk and ask how he was doing, if he needed anything. You requested he join you not just for meetings as extra muscle or posing as a date, but on walks and meals, having conversations about the weather to debates about the nature of man to whether toast was better with jelly or jam. You’d take Toji out randomly on shopping trips and end up buying him pretty much anything that caught his eye. Anything Toji wanted, he got, and along with it you increasingly showered him with praise and affection.

When the sex began Toji thought he got you out of his system the first time, only to end up not just repeating these trysts, but staying longer and longer after he fucked your brains out. It was borderline embarrassing, how quickly Toji found himself lulled in by your pillowtalk as you encouraged him to sleep in, promising you’d have breakfast ready for him in the morning. Sometimes, Toji would come over when you weren’t even home with the spare keys you gifted him and promptly burrow himself in your bed until you were due home. The whole room smelled sweet and it was so cozy being wrapped in the down blankets. Toji's eyelids would get heavier as he wallowed in your scented sheets ike a pig rolling in mud until the combined aromas of your perfumes, lotions, and natural scent clung to his nostrils, soothing and oddly familiar; within minutes Toji would be out like a light. After some of the best rest he had ever gotten, Toji would wake up to you stroking his head, petting him like a dog, and asking him what he would like for dinner.

Eventually, inevitably, came the point of no return. During that beach trip Toji told you about his past; he didn’t go into too much detail, mainly that he had loved someone and he was pretty sure lightning only struck once. You didn’t get jealous or angry; you simply kissed his knuckles and put your hand over his, not saying much of anything while Toji spoke. That night on the beach you held his hand and allowed him to reminisce at his own pace into the early hours of the morning, until he was too exhausted to do anything else but hold you and the two of you stayed that way until noon.

That peaceful, almost unreal night, Toji realized you actually gave a shit about him and he didn’t know what to do with that. Regardless, you made it clear you didn’t expect to own his heart and soul. You only promised to take care of him.

“I was being stubborn, you know how I get sometimes. You’re my one and only, baby, can’t we just forget about it?”

“I want you to leave.”

“No.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

“No!”

Toji’s hands cup your cheeks and he winces at the disgust in your eyes; why are you looking at him like that?

“Okay, okay, let me make it up.” Toji’s voice is sweet as pie; he leans in, practically purring in your ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll show you how sorry I am.”

“Get. Off. I knew you were shameless, but this is...”

You might as well have slapped him across the face; Toji’s smile falls as you glare like he’s some repulsive insect, a leech, like the thought of him touching you is making your skin crawl.

Toji’s hands retract from your face, expression blank. “You’re really serious.”

“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look. As if you don’t have women on speed dial to call up. Why don’t you make up with one of your other meal tickets? I’m sure they’ll have forgiven you by now for however you wronged them-”

“I told you there isn’t anyone else. Don’t do this.” Toji mutters, head hanging; his chest throbs, he can feel sweat trickle down his temple. “Don’t make me go.”

It’s doubtful you could forcibly remove Toji from your presence, but that’s beside the point. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“No, I’m really sorry.” Toji falls to his knees. “Don’t make me go.”

“Hey, wait, what are you…?”

Toji wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed into your waist; you stiffen but he hangs on tighter, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.

“Please, don’t make me. I wanna go upstairs, back to our bed. Listen, I,” Toji pries himself away from you just enough so he can look at you with glassy eyes. He’s panicking now, babbling and frantic as you try to pry off his arms. “Stop that! Baby, I got all messed up about getting too attached and I-I didn’t mean anything I said, you gotta believe me.”

“Toji, let go!”

A cold sweat makes Toji’s already tight shirt stick to his tensed back muscles; he feels like he’s being choked. How could you do this to him? All he wants is to stay with you, whether it’s as a bodyguard, a hired companion, a fuck toy, hell, he’ll settle for being your pet if that’s what it takes to get you to take him back.

"You promised you'd take care of me." he mutters, ignoring your vain attempts at freeing yourself from his unyielding hold. "I don't...want it to be anyone else."

Toji won’t let you go. You’ve made him lazy and spoiled with your pampering; he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, never has to worry about money or food or rent, and he never has to wake up alone anymore. Whether Toji’s angry, tired, bored, or as of late, happy, you’re the first person he thinks of. You give him everything and now you’re trying to cut him off.

"You let me go right now!" You slap at his shoulders, try to pull back his head from where it's pressed into your midsection. "Are you even listening?!"

With a distressed moan, Toji nuzzles your tummy, kisses the skin peeking out from your sweatshirt riding up under his forearms; his rough hands relax their grasp a fraction to caress your hips.

“Let me stay. I won’t answer calls from my old bosses, I’ll quit betting. If I look at another woman, gouge my eyes out. All you have to do is tell me how to fix things.” Toji smiles at you, one he knows makes women weak in the knees. “Don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll do anything you want.” he promises between kisses and nips to your skin. “Why are we wasting time arguing? You know, I can make you feel so good. My poor baby, spending all day working so damn hard; you deserve better. I'll help take the edge off...you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can help, just-”

“Toji, stop-”

“Just let me dammit!”

Toji feels you freeze up; you’re looking back at him with wide eyes. His stomach drops like a rock.

“Sorry…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

No. Now you look scared, maybe a bit concerned; is that for him? Toji can feel some warmth creeping into his chest in spite of everything; you’re so good to him. You went to so much trouble for him and he has no idea why.

You can’t do this. You can’t treat him like a thing to be cherished and then take it all away. Toji just wants things to go back to how they were that morning, with you feeding him berries and syrup drenched pieces of fluffy pancakes, giving him teasing kisses in between each bite, asking what his plans were for the day as he lounges in your lap, wondering what he did to deserve to be so content and full and happy. You made him so happy.

“Shit.” Toji sniffs; he can feel them coming but can’t stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Shit.” he curses again, bowing his head until it’s resting against your tummy again. “You can’t…you can’t leave me. I won’t let you. I won’t let you abandon me. I can’t-”

“Toji, calm down.” Your voice softens considerably. “Look, do you understand why I’m upset with you?”

“I know, I know I fucked up okay?” Toji croaks, still clinging to your legs. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? I already said I would do anything you want, so just tell me!”

“Sh, come on, breathe. I need you to calm down, alright?” You bend at the waist slightly, to card your fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, I believe you. I do. I believe you, Toji.”

“Are you gonna kick me out still?”

“No, I won’t for the time being. We can sit down and talk about-whoa!”

Toji wastes no time; he has you lifted off the ground in his arms. You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders as he makes a beeline for the stairs.

“Slow down!” You glance backward in disbelief at how easily he bounds up the carpet steps. “How are you so strong? Don’t drop me, okay?”

But Toji doesn’t answer; he practically bolts, finally reaching the next level, races down the hallway until he’s at the door to your-the bedroom he and you share. Toji’s heavy boot easily kicks the door open, somehow without breaking it off the hinges; in record time you’re on the bed, but shockingly, Toji doesn’t start stripping you down.

“Toji?” You ask tentatively; he seems fairly out of it and you can’t help feel worried. “Toji, what are you doing?”

“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed, huh?”

Toji kicks off his boots, gently sits you down in the middle of the mattress among the fluffy pillows and the cheap plush bunny he won for you at a crane machine. Nearly hyperventilating, Toji climbs into bed after you, snatches the sheets and comforter to wrap around the two of you in a soft cocoon. Toji grabs you, cradling you in close as he tries to even out his breathing; for a fleeting second you wonder if this is what stuffed animals felt, if they could become sentient, when children held them tight for comfort. Your attention is brought back by the man rubbing his face into your hair insistently, as if he could tell your mind had briefly wandered.

“Hey, are you-?”

“Don’t make me go.” Toji cuts you off hoarsely. “You love me, right?”

“I do.”

“Say it.”

“I do love you.” You confess sincerely, words muffled slightly due to your face being squished into his chest; his heart is beating a mile and minute. “I was hurt, alright? I want to be good to you, Toji. You have to let me though; you’re not the type to dance around an issue. I just want you to be honest with me and yourself.”

“Yes, yes, I want that. You’re so good to me, baby, thank you.” Toji wraps his legs around yours; if there was a way for you to mold into him he’d make it happen. “Can I move my stuff back in?”

“I…” You hesitate. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”

“What? No we aren’t. If anything, we're not moving fast enough. Are you still thinking of leaving?” Toji grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him; his eyes look crazed. “You’re not right? You just fucking said you loved me-!”

“Hey, hey.” You put your hands over his gently. “If you really meant what you said before, you have to listen and be good. Can you do that for me?”

Toji nods quickly. You smile for him, finally, and it's a sight for sore eyes. How do you always look so pretty? Toji’s chest throbs and he hugs you, making your ear press against his heart; you can hear it, right? It almost stopped dead when you were glowering at him, Toji still can't believe he was so close to losing this. It's not going to happen again.

“I wanna touch you.”

Toji separates from you as abruptly as he had squeezed you to him; he hovers above you, tugging on the band of your shorts, your panties. He groans pitifully when you still look unsure. Toji hikes your legs up until your ass is pressed to his chest and he’s face to face with your pussy, still covered up. That won’t do: wordlessly, he rips the seams of your shorts apart and pulls your panties to the side. Gently spreading your pussy lips with his fingers, Toji makes sure to look you in the eyes while he lets a long trail of spit trickle from his tongue to your exposed clit.

“See?” he licks a long strip over your slit, salivating at the taste. “I’m drooling for it, just like a dog….heh, I can be your dog. Is that what you want? I’ll fetch and roll over and beg.” he traces his tongue around your swollen clit. “All you gotta do is ask.”

You can barely form words, forget making requests, as Toji slobbers, licking and sucking until you’re dripping wet. Your hands grip the pillows and your head rolls back and forth; you can hardly speak and you’re more squealing than moaning when Toji starts using his fingers to fuck your soaked pussy.

“I’m loyal too. You’re not ever getting rid of me.”

Toji pulls back, kisses and nips the inside of your thigh as he watches his fingers disappear inside you over and over again. He’s smiling down at you, dumbly, in a daze as you let out soft cries with every pump of his wrist, every time his thumb rubs a touch too hard on your clit. He’s the only one who gets to see you like this, composure gone, face flushed, eyes wide, hardly able to do more than moan and whine at his touches. Toji’s smile turns devilish; he purposefully pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in to draw out the squelch sounds from how wet he’s made you. He slowly drags his fingers out all the way and you inhale sharply from the sensation.

“It’s my turn to spoil you.”

Toji lowers your hips down on the sheets and quickly shrugs off his sweatpants and underwear; his cock bobs when it’s released and you’re a bit shocked at how hard he is despite not touching himself.

“Let me fuck you.” Toji rocks his hips, cock over the inside of your thigh. “You still want me, right?”

And if you think he’s going to stop at one round, if you think for a second one time is going to be enough and you somehow still plan to have him out on his ass, maybe you don’t know him. Toji’s fingers dig into your ass; he’s rutting now, throbbing and dripping precum all over you and the bedspread. It brings a twisted grin to his face, like he’s marking his territory. After all, this is where he belongs. If you won’t be persuaded by his touch and words alone, Toji has other ways, he just doesn't want to resort to making you afraid of him.

Because he meant exactly what he said: you're not getting rid of him. If you try to, Toji will just come back. If you run, he'll chase, if you hide, he'll come looking. You've made him into this.

“’M being good, yeah?” Toji lowers his head to your chest to slobber over your nipples next, barely able to speak with his lips sucking and his tongue flicking over them. “I can keep making you feel good, just let me fuck you, let me put in in, let me wreck you-”

“Toji, I want to ride your cock tonight.” You play with his hair and kiss his jaw. “Can I?”

Toji doesn’t hesitate; he throws himself back to lie on your pillows, getting even harder as your scent hits him. He licks his lips in anticipation as you straddle him, stroking him once before lining the tip up with your pussy. Toji’s eyes roll in the back of his head as you slowly sink down, clenching tight; he has to grab at the sheets and force himself to be still, has to keep telling himself this is for you, he’s going to go at your pace and show you how good he can be, obedient and careful. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he loves it-

“It almost hurts. You're so hard.” You gasp when you’re fully seated on his cock. “Oh, Toji…are you going to cum soon?”

“Nah, don’t worry about that baby.” Toji grins up at you, face flushed and hands shaking as they cling to the pillowcase. “So good…it feels so fucking good when I’m all the way inside. Go on, use my cock to cum, ride me until your pussy can’t take it.”

You tilt your hips so the tip of Toji’s cock rubs against that spot that makes you see stars and your clit gets rubbed against him with every thrust. At first you have your hands over his chest, but when Toji tries to slide his hands up to grab at your tits, you stop him.

“Huh?”

“No, you don’t get to touch me.” You pant out, gently but firmly holding Toji’’s hands above his head. “Tha-that’s your punishment.”

Toji’s brow furrows; he’s practically pouting. He knows he said "anything", but he wants to touch you so badly. Your tits look good enough to eat, nipples slick and begging to be played with, and your skin feels like silk on his fingers. Toji watches, biting the inside of his cheek, tasting blood when you start bouncing, thighs taut and face contorted in pleasure as you get closer and closer to making a mess on his lap.

“Baby,” Toji groans. “Come on, let me, you’re close right? It’ll feel better.”

“I can cum like this.” You say playfully as you tap his pursed lips with one finger. “You said you'd be good.”

“Just wanna touch you....” Toji’s hands twitch but he doesn’t shake off your grip; he raises his hips and you let out a whine. “Please?"

You stop moving and Toji grits his teeth, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Hey…why did you stop?”

“Sorry,” You smile in genuine delight. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”

“Fuck, keep goin’,” Toji nibbles the tip of your finger before you pull it away. “Come on, keep making my dick wet,”

“So cute.” You cup his face and press a long, loving kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Toji, I really do.”

Toji can’t stop himself; he yanks you down, traps you in his arms and thrusts up.

“Ah!”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry baby. I gotta,” Toji slurs. “Ah fuck it.”

You shriek as Toji flips you over; he has your legs spread and lowers his face down to suck and kiss and bite at your breasts, slamming his cock as deep inside your pussy as he can go. He briefly touches your hair, patting your head as you scream and writhe, smiling down at you so warmly even as his cock splits you open.

“Can’t help it. Need it, need this so fucking bad.”

Toji latches onto your neck, sucking so hard you think he might tear the skin; you cry out and your nails accidentally scratch long, red lines down his back and shoulders. You’re clawing and sobbing, completely overwhelmed underneath him. He’s fucking you like an animal with no regard for pacing or rhythm, holding you down and open for him to slam his cock inside your swollen little pussy. Toji straightens up to grind himself into you just the way he knows you like best, gently rubbing away at your clit, smirking at the way you gush around his cock. You’re so pretty like this, flushed and messy for him.

“Tell me again. Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum so hard your legs shake.”

“Love you,” You gasp, arms wrapping around Toji’s bulging neck, drawing him in closer; you press kisses over his cheeks, nose, chin. “I love you, I-ah!”

Toji is done being patient; he keeps his thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it harshly as he grinds his cock right into that spot, deep and hard; you’re never going to forget how his cock feels. Toji kisses you none too gently, lips prying your mouth open as he shoves his tongue down your throat; he really doesn’t even mean to be rough this time. The desire to devour you is overtaking him.

He’s so close. Your pussy’s soaking, his head’s spinning; just before Toji’s about to cum, you muster up enough energy to hold him back tightly and pet his hair, moaning softly into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. Toji wanted to last longer, but it’s too much. Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and his mouth goes to your jugular; Toji swears he can feel your pulse under his teeth.

“Cum inside me.” You plead, whimpering into his ear. “I want it…want you, Toji, no one else.”

“Shit.” Toji presses his forehead to yours, hiking up your thighs; the bed is creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

Toji goes rigid and still as he cums, cock suddenly painfully sensitive; when you smile tiredly and kiss the palm of his hand, actual tears well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s all too much. He didn’t know he could even still feel like this, feel much of anything anymore. You shudder from his hot cum gushing inside you, but Toji doesn’t pull out just yet and you don’t seem in a hurry to move him anyway.

“I think you broke my dick.”

“...pardon me?”

“Pretty sure your pussy drained me dry…fuck.” Toji chuckles tiredly, very slowly pulling himself out, smiling in satisfaction as his cum seeps out of you and onto the sheets. “Did you like that?”

“I loved it.” You tell him softly, just beginning to catch your own breath as Toji uses his shirt to gently wipe you clean between your legs. “Toji?”

“Yeah?” Toji tosses his shirt somewhere and lays over you. “You want me to get you something? I bet you’re real tired after that.”

You pause; you look very serious all of a sudden, all business once more. “Toji, we really should talk about ‘us’. I don’t think we can just return to what we were.”

“What? But you said you loved me.” Toji raises his head to glare at you. “You’re not seeing other men, so put that idea out of your fucking head.”

“That is not what I meant!”

“Okay…what is it then?”

“I was going to say, are you sure this is what you want?” You ask carefully, looking into his eyes. “Is this really what you want?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Toji can’t believe you even have to ask; he frowns and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Fair warning, I’ll find you if you try to leave before I wake up.”

“I don’t doubt it, you’re an excellent tracker.”

“I mean it.” Toji mumbles into the crook of your neck, his heavy arm over your stomach. “You run, I’m hunting you down.”

“I wasn’t planning on making a grand escape; I was thinking something more along the lines of breakfast in bed.” You suggest and smile at the way Toji’s visibly perks up. “Oh, have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I came straight here from the gym.” he lies, eager to have you fuss over him. "I'm really hungry..."

“I’ll order in something; what do you want?”

“Anything, just get lots of it.” Toji squeezes you. “But don’t go yet though. Wanna stay like this a little longer.”

“Whatever you want.”

In minutes, Toji is snoring and curled up in your sheets like a tuckered out puppy; his leg even kicks randomly. When he wakes up to the smell of warm food and your nails gently scratching his scalp, Toji yawns with a groggy smile and opens his mouth for you to feed him, licking crumbs off your fingers greedily. You really do spoil him.

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oh-katsuki · 1 year

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i think an ur praise kink yuji fic day n night i need you to know

i need you to know that it is such a great honor. every time i see u in my notifs on one of my thirsty little posts i am kneeling and putting my hand over my chest like someone being knighted

#[ 🏩 – chatting ]#i love u #also as a side note.... yuji LOVES praise #i dont even think he realizes what he has is considered a kink... but he REALLY runs his mouth when he's fucking you #folds you in half and mumbles about how pretty you look and how well you're stretching around him #ill collapse and die.#[ ☎️ – frequent callers ]#tw: praise

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rinhaler · 5 months

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step brother sukuna forcefully taking his stepsister's virginity <3 (with size difference)

sukuna has got me in the biggest chokehold and this weeks dub has not helped in the least long live ray chase

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, noncon, stepcest, creampie, use of 'good girl', virginity loss, vaginal sex, hair pulling, degradation, spanking, noncon photography.

words: 1.3k

“S-Sukuna?” you wake up, eyes fuzzy and the darkness not helping matters as you try and make out the shape of your step-brother in your doorway. He could be anyone, really, but the size of his silhouette gives him away. You roll over to check the time on your phone, grunting with displeasure when you see it’s only 3am.

He comes inside, stealthily, and he reeks of alcohol. You can smell him from your bed. And you feel blinded when he turns on the light, your retinas blown to hell as you try and adjust to the brightness.

You yelp as he sits on the mattress, and you sit up quickly.

“You’re a good girl,” he tells you, voice slurring slightly as he speaks. “Staying home tonight, good… good girl.”

You aren’t sure what to say, though you begin to worry he might vomit on your carpet. You hasten out of bed to grab the bin in the corner of your room, placing it between his legs. And he laughs at that, it’s just so… you.

“Some… whore… I don’t remember her name,” he sniffs, looking down at the bin before his red eyes hone in on you. “She was all over me tonight. But I pushed her away. Y’know why?”

“W-Why…” you ask, cautiously, your inner monologue telling you this is leading somewhere bad. You want to run, but you feel like your legs at being weighed down to your mattress.

“I thought, why fuck her? I don’t care about her. She’s easy. But you,” he continues. He kicks the bin away and he climbs onto your bed, crawling closer to you on all fours like a predator cornering it’s. prey. You try to escape, still weighed down with fear. But you could only get so far anyway. Your back meets with the headboard, and you know you’re trapped. “My sweet little sister. Are you sweet? Maybe you’re a whore like her.”

“Sukuna, p-please, I’ve never… I’ve never—”

“You’re real sweet.” he grins, pulling you against him until your noses touch. “Should have known you were a virgin. I hear you when you touch yourself sometimes, you never last long. You’ll prob’ly cum on my cock the minute I put it in.” he sneers, and in your panic he manages to flip you onto your stomach with ease.

“N-No, please, I don’t— you’re my b-brother!” you object, body freezing and turning limp as you realise you’re powerless to his advances. He doesn’t bother undressing you, he just pins your wrists above your head with one large palm. “S-Sukuna?”

“I’m your big brother, and I should be the first person to feel your cunt wrapped around my cock.” he answers you, unzipping his trousers and freeing his cock just enough to use against you. He moves your pyjama shorts into the crease of your thigh, and he can’t help but ogle your sopping flesh. “You’re wet, little girl. And no panties. You knew I was coming, didn’t you? Did all of this for me… how thoughtful.”

You cry, silently, as you realise there’s nothing you can say to stop this. He drags his thick cockhead up and down your folds before he practically stabs it into your entrance. You scream, but he yanks your hair and forces your face down into the pillows to silence you.

“Shut the fuck up.” he tells you. “You want this, I know you do.” he lies, though you don’t know if it’s for your benefit or his own. Each drag and rut into your heat is torture. It’s slow, tormenting, until he finds a steady rhythm against your resisting walls.

“Ah, ah!” you moan, your voice finally free as he gives you the chance to breathe. He snarls as he hears you, moaning like a slut as he defiles your virgin interior.

“Knew you’d like it, slut.” he laughs, picking up the pace as your needy whining encourages him. He lets your hands go, knowing you’ve given up on fighting him. His hands knead into the flesh of your ass, spanking you on occasion and forcing you to jolt back against him. He pulls your hair until your back is curved into an almost agonising arch.

“S-Sukuna! H-Hurts! Hurts s’much!”

“Is that why you’re moaning like a bitch in heat for me, hah?” he chides, spanking your ass as he continues bullying his cock into you. “Ya getting tighter around me, sister. Naughty girl…” he spanks you again and you can’t help but preen for him. You fucking hate yourself and you hate him for doing this to you.

You just can’t deny how good it feels.

“Y-You’ve always been so good,” he pants, stuttering slightly as he feels himself teetering on the edge of release. He grabs a fistful of your ass again and you can already feel how red and bruised it’s becoming. And you yelp as he inflicts a particular agonising spank onto your rear. “Tell me you love me.” he groans in your ear.

“I- I love you,” you don’t even hesitate, because you do. He’s your big brother, after all. How could you not love him, even in spite of this? “So good t’me, Sukuna, always s-so good.”

His eyes roll over white as he hears your words, it took all of his self-control to not cum in that instant. “Aren’t you p-recious,” he struggles, both of his hands dig into the fat of your hips, now. Your body collapsing forwards as he makes no effort to help you keep upright. It still hurts, but it’s an agony you’re willing to withstand for him. “Gonna be the first person to cum in this virgin cunt,” he grins, he wraps his arms around your waist as if he’s hugging you. Though you come to realise he’s just preventing any escape attempts you might make.

“No! Sukuna, n-no! You can’t.”

“Yeah, I can. ‘n you’re gonna let me because you’re a good girl,” he tells you, whispering directly into your ear as he feels his balls begin to tighten. “Only big brother’s get to cum here, got it? This little pussy was made for my cum.”

“N-N— ah! Hnng, fu-uck! Fuck!“ you moan, and Sukuna has lost any interest in forcing you to keep quiet. The damage is done, now. Even if your parents find out, it’s not like they can undo his handiwork, gifting his little sister with a pretty creampie.

He fucks into you until he blows his load. Your walls fill with white and you shudder from the contrast of your freezing body being stuffed full of his creamy white cum. He fucks it into you, deeply. And you don’t have the energy to object.

When he’s through, he pushes you off his length and you melt into a puddle on the mattress below. You feel your knee being forcibly bent in a bid to spread your legs open. Your pussy lips open deliciously and his sperm drips from your hole and down your little slit.

“Don’t move.” he tells you.

You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

He pulls his phone from his back pocket, taking a series of photos of your lifeless form and drippy cunt. He smirks as he sifts through them all.

He’s sure he’ll find one that will make the perfect screensaver.

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jupitadori · 4 months

Text

Ok but imagine you’re at a club in the city, it’s NYE.

You wear your short sparkly dress and favourite heels. You’re dancing with your friends, giddy and tipsy.

Then you see him, across the bar.

Saturo Gojo.

The club lights dancing off of his silver hair, his muscles stretching his tight black t-shirt. His brilliant blue eyes catch yours as he lazily looks you up and down, a smirk playing on his lips.

You look away, nervously.

The music blares as you dance, the alcohol taking effect. You shake your ass and whip your hair as the men around you stare, hungrily. You see Satoru watching you as your hands run over the curve of your hips.

You spin and twirl in a giddy, drunken haze. Your dress lifting and flowing, revealing your bare thighs and the bottom of your ass. You look back at the bar but realise Satoru isn’t there anymore. You huff, deflated.

Just then you feel a hand on your ass, grabbing you. Hard. Someone begins pushing you through the crowd toward a shadowed doorway.

Satoru spins you around to face him and pins you to the wall, his huge frame towering over you.

“I think they’ve seen enough of you.” He smirks, nodding to the crowd of men on the dance floor.

“But I want to see more”

His huge hand slides up your dress and his fingers wrap round your lacy panties, pulling them down in a swift motion. You gasp.

Satoru chuckles as he picks you up, your legs wrapping around him. Before you can think, he kisses you ferociously.

With your legs spread open you feel him unzip,

lining his throbbing cock at your soaking entrance.

You moan forces himself into you. Taking no time at all to pound your tight little hole.

The music blasts as he fucks you against the wall. You clutch at his back, your face buried in his neck. He laughs as you pathetically try to stifle your moans- but the more you resist, the harder he fucks.

You bounce like a slut, dripping down his massive cock as he pounds your soaking cunt. Faster, harder.

In the distance you hear the crowd is counting down to the New Year-

“10…!”

You can’t barely think straight, feeling his biceps pulsating as he fucks you senseless. He kisses you as you moan into his mouth, his dick pummelling your soft walls.

“Who’s a good slut?” He growls, slapping your ass.

“I-I am” you cry

“3…!”

He pounds harder. You whimper, breathless as he continues to ruin your pussy. Your legs shake.

“2…!”

Your vision starts to blur. You almost can’t take it anymore, you feel like you’re going to-

“I-I’m gonna-!”

“1…!”

You cry out in ecstasy and squirt all over his cock as he cums deeps inside you. You both pant.

He pulls out his throbbing cock and puts you down; your legs wobble.

“Happy New Year” he sneers, leaving you stood breathless, his cum dripping down your thighs.

#gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x gojo smut #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #anime smut #tw alcohol #tw exhibitionism #tw praise kink #tw degradation

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clandestineloki · 11 months

Text

the queen of hearts (NSFW)

mafia!loki x reader x mafia!bucky

tw: threesome, cuckolding, light bondage, corruption kink, innocence kink, praise kink, slight humiliation kink but it's very sweet i promise, unprotected sex

================================================

he’s always loved seeing you so nervous.

loki watches as you waddle around to the bar counter, lips parting and closing again in hesitation.

goodness, you pure little soul. he can see your dainty little hand tapping at your side as you ask for two glasses of Bourbon Old Fashioned, stuttering out a please and thank you like a good girl, and norns if you aren’t just the cutest when you’re shy.

as if you haven’t done much more depraved favors for him than just fetching some drinks.

and not only is that trait the one thing loki loves most about you; it’s also the most obvious. you can never hide anything from him— not that you do that often, but it doesn’t take him much… persuading to get you to admit what’s on your mind— the flush of your cheeks and chest and the way your eyes dart away and the way you hide your face in the side of your hair is unmistakable.

especially tonight, when he invited you to come with him to the casino for a few hours of poker between him and the second-in-command of the howlers— bucky barnes.

normally loki’s quite possessive, hiding you away from any men that even breathe differently near you, in fear that they might kidnap you or take you away from him.

but he trusts bucky and knows him quite well— from the very wine he fancies to the two secret hideout flats he has in case something happens (aka, where to find him if he even dares to try anything).

more importantly, he relishes in the flustered look on your face when bucky talks to you.

and he finds it adorable how you're nothing but a flushing, timid mess around barnes.

it’s no secret you see bucky as much more than just your lover’s illegal business partner. (loki knows that shyness all too well, from when he first took you to a dinner date at the rooftop of a first-class hotel and asked to be your official boyfriend, from when he gave you a beautiful diamond necklace to wear at a party with him, from when he kneels between your spread legs, lifting up your dress to reveal the dripping wet, clenching little cunt he loves to spoil so much.)

it was undeniably cute how you clung to loki when the three of you first met at the lobby, and even more adorable when barnes complimented your little blue dress and you mumbled a thank you, tucking your face into loki’s shoulder.

he merely chuckled, softly patting your head as he sent a knowing look to barnes.

“i’m back!”

loki looks up to see you place down the glasses.

the corner of his mouth quirks, and he reaches for your hand and presses it to his lips, mumbling a thank you, angel as he watches in amusement as you react so cutely, eyes widening and face burning red.

bucky clears his throat and raises his eyebrow from the other side of the table. “loki. your move."

loki snickers, letting go of your hand as he side-eyes bucky. “don't rush me, barnes. you'll get your turn soon."

both of them know he's not just talking about poker.

================================================

“you fucking bastard.” bucky grins, laughing breathlessly.

loki chuckles, raises his hands as the dealer sweeps the chips to his side of the table.

“one time. one time you let me win is all I ask," bucky takes another swig of his drink.

“sorry, i have to put on a show. can't let my darling here think i'm a loser.”

you perk up from leaning on loki's shoulder, half-asleep.

“hmm?" you mumble, sitting up. "more drinks?”

loki chuckles, placing a hand on your knee and another on your head to lean you back against him. “no, no, we're alright, thanks, love.”

“y’know,” bucky quips, tapping a finger on the table. “this’s getting a little boring. you and i both have a lot of money and betting a few thousand isn’t gonna change that.”

loki tilts his head, brows furrowing. “i don’t follow.”

“just wondering,” bucky shrugs, running his metal hand through his hair. “why don’t we put much more valuable stuff at stake?”

your lover grins. “like?”

bucky rolls up the left sleeve of his black button-up, flashing a stunning gold watch.

“this is one of the very first rolex oysters ever made, back in 2000. an ordinary one costs six thousand, but this baby is worth 1.7.”

“million?”

loki turns when he sees your eyes widen as you lean forward, admiring the watch.

“you heard it right. some say the only people who have ever touched it are the ceo, steve jobs, and kim kardashian.”

“and you.” you mumble softly. “i remember i watched this on buzzfeed unsolved. it went missing from from the british museum... did you-?”

“hold on, sweetheart," bucky chuckles, “i didn't steal this or anything. hydra did, i just happened ‘ta rip it off that bastard strucker’s dead body.”

loki turns to bucky. “it’s… quite interesting. though, it's a shame i don’t have anything on me tonight worth betting.”

bucky’s eyes meet yours.

then he grins.

“how ‘bout you bet your little angel here, huh?”

loki’s eyes darken, pulling you close to himself. “what?”

bucky laughs, waves his hand nonchalantly.

“not, like, forever, just one night, take her for a little spin. bet she sounds real pretty when she feels good, huh?”

in the corner of his eye, loki sees your brows furrow, and he feels you grip onto his shirt tighter.

“not that i’ll stand a chance against you, snake boy. doesn’t really matter what you put on the line if you win, right?”

you place your hand over loki’s, looking up at him anxiously. “loki, did i hear that right?”

he brushes a hand against your cheek, before turning to barnes.

“give us a moment."

bucky nods, standing up to go get another drink, leaving the atmosphere heavy with tension as loki patiently waits for you to say something.

“is it… weird that i kinda want the watch?"

loki scoffs, patting your hair as you lean into his touch. “of course not. i’ll win it for you, i’ll even kill him if it m-”

“no!!" you yelp, and he laughs.

“just joking, dear." he kisses your hand again.

“mhm.”

“mhm?" he mimics your breathy hum, smirking and teasingly kissing your cheeks and neck. “and why is my angel suddenly so shy, mhm?"

you gasp, trying to push him away with no avail. “loki, love, baby-”

he leans in just enough for his lips to graze against your ear. “can i tell you a secret?"

you nod, whining softly, and he grins.

“i know about your little crush on barnes~"

your eyes widen. “what?"

“oh, don't act so coy, love.” loki presses a hand to your chest, pushing you against the seat. “you know you can't hide anything from me, can you?"

“i’m not hiding anything-”

loki chuckles, shaking his head as he leans over you, smiling harder when your face flushes.

“right, you aren't, love," he tucks a stray bit of hair behind your ear. “not when it's so obvious to me. not when you’re such a shy little dove when he’s around, hmm?"

the way your lips part and close again as if you’re struggling to speak goes straight down to his crotch. he knows deep down you want this, that no matter how much you deny it the way you squeeze your soft thighs together is unmistakable.

“i’m going to accept this little deal, angel.”

he tentatively presses his thumb against your lips, watching intently as your chest heaves nervously at his touch.

“and while we’re playing, i’ll be watching your every reaction to him.”

he brushes your lower lip, pressing a bit harder to slip his thumb into your mouth, pulling away just a second after. you mewl softly, but he pins you to the seat so you can't get away as he leans in to brush his lips seductively against your neck.

“and if i see you turn even the slightest bit pink, i’m going to let him win on purpose and he’ll have you all to himself for the rest of the night.”

he knows you're way too transparent to even try and hide it, but that's the point, isn't it? he knows you want it too. and who is he if not the very first person who should be showering you in rewards and granting your every wish?

he nips down hard on your neck*,* then sucks delicately on the spot, relishing in the sweet sound of pleasure that leaves your lips.

“and if you’re a very good girl for him, i’ll give you a reward you’ll love very much. do you understand, my angel?”

“yeah,” you answer, more whimper than words.

he grins, and just in time, bucky comes back with a few drinks, sitting across the table just as loki moves away from your trembling figure, adjusting his tie very casually as if he didn’t just cuckold you off to his best friend.

needless to say it doesn't take long for the game to end and the more exciting part of the night to begin.

================================================

loki pours himself a drink, swirling the liquid around in the ice and taking a sip.

pretending his cock isn't getting harder with every whimper from you.

bucky’s got you pressed against the king-size bed in his suite, being a pretty angel so kiss-drunk already as he pins your wrists to your side. he’s teased you relentlessly on the elevator ride up to his suite on the 38th floor.

“bucky..." you mumble, your voice breaking off into a gasp as he moves down to your neck.

“gosh,” he grins against your sensitive skin. “you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen.”

the praise has your head spinning as bucky sucks at your neck, grazing his teeth over the mark he’s making.

“see? that right there, how you get all shy when i tell you you're pretty, makes you such a cutie… i don’t blame loki for always keepin’ his hands on you, sugar~”

“bucky-!” you squirm as his knee presses up against your crotch.

loki takes another swig of the alcohol and sets his glass down.

he chuckles. “where are you running off to~?”

bucky is just as amused by your shy antics, letting you struggle in his grip as much as you want to, though he doesn’t let you go.

“gosh, lokes. she’s so-” he kisses your neck real hard and your eyes glaze over, “-fucking pretty.”

“she really is~” loki agrees, leaning back in his chair. “you know, you can be a little bit rougher with her.”

bucky hums. “really? she's real sensitive, don’t think she’ll last long, can’t have my little prize passin’ out on me. will ya’, pretty?”

you shake your head, and both men smirk at how good you want to be for both of them.

“i just wanna get a little taste of you, baby,” bucky mocks your breathless whines. “so could you be a good girl and lay back, hmm? let me claim my prize?”

“o-okay…” you mumble, feeling floaty as his hands wander all over you,.

“so damn cute,” bucky growls, nipping your ear. he places his hands on your thighs, spreading you out for him. bucky’s eyes widen, and he looks back at loki.

loki grins. “no underwear, hmm? just as i told her. see, she’s such a dirty little thing~”

“this whole time?” bucky kisses your inner thigh. “you’re corrupting her, loki.”

“and she likes it,” loki crosses his legs. “no matter how shy she is, it makes her feel heavenly when i praise her for doing everything i command.”

flustered at the way these lethally attractive men are talking about you as if you aren’t here, your eyes meet bucky’s and he smirks.

“that true, baby?”

“i- uh, kinda…?”

loki chuckles at your answer. “barnes, i think your reward is getting a little restless~”

bucky licks his lips and dives in for the kill, tracing his tongue along your slit before sucking on your clit. you whimper, trembling at the sensation, and bucky chuckles.

“god, you taste so fucking pretty.”bucky groans, using his thumb to tease your little bud as he fucks your dripping hole with his tongue.

loki shifts in his seat, the bulge in his pants becoming more and more prominent as he downs the rest of his glass and makes his way towards your helpless, shaking body.

a loud ripping sound fills the room and you gasp, completely bare as loki reduces your little blue dress to shreds.

“i’ll buy you a new one, angel,” loki sits you up as bucky grins up at you, his face wet with your juices.

your eyes widen as he licks his lips again, and you get flustered at the brazen look in his eyes.

“god, sugar,” bucky unfastens his belt. “’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll go stupid.”

you whine, closing your legs to ease the ache, but loki whispers in your ear, “don’t move, darling, you said youd be good for him~”

when bucky rolls up his other sleeve, you realize that you’re completely bare to them while they are both still fully clothed.

the feeling of powerlessness sends a tear down your leg.

bucky pins you down on the bed ass up, and loki takes the belt, binding your hands behind your back.

“she gets all fidgety when she starts feeling good,” loki chuckles when you whimper at his drawl. “don’t want her running off when you make her dumb, hmm?”

bucky swats his hands away, and leans in really close to your ear.

“i’m gonna fuck your pretty hole real good, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine at his dirty words.

bucky spreads your thighs and lines up, smirking up at loki, who quirks an eyebrow as he returns to his seat.

“and your loki here is gonna watch as you come for me over and over and over again like the little cockdrunk princess you are.”

there’s a lewdly wet sound that comes from your pussy as he pushes his cock into you, and you moan loudly, soaking him with your arousal and clenching down on him like a little slut.

“and maybe… if you look real pretty and let me do what i want, i’ll let loki have a turn~”

your glassy eyes flicker up and you whimper at what you see.

loki’s got one fist around his leaking cock, watching as his pretty baby adjusts to bucky’s size.

“you ready, cutie?” bucky laughs at the blissful teary look in your eyes, and decides that he’s got his reply.

he pulls his hips back slowly, making you really feel every bit of him sliding out-

bucky slams back in, stealing your breath and making you squeak brokenly. he laughs, kissing your cheek with a loud smack sound. “hmm? feeling good, sweetheart?”

“uhuh…” you look back at bucky, who grins and kisses you again on the lips.

“such a good little baby~” he mocks your airy voice, and presses you down on the bed and begins thrusting at a slow but rough pace.

loki groans as he watches you get fucked dizzy. “you alright, darling~?” he smiles teasingly, voice raspy from stimulating himself.

“y-yeah…” you mumble, whimpering into the pillows as bucky fucks you from behind.

loki just loves you like this: so depraved yet still shy and willing and still so eager to please, even when your coherence is withering away with every relentless thrust of bucky’s cock into your cunt.

“so fucking cute-” bucks rams particularly hard into you, making you squeak and kick helplessly.

“no, no, don’t fight it, darling,” loki chuckles, tilting your chin up to get a look at your pretty eyes wet with tears. “you’re just his little prize, so just be a good girl for us?”

bucky licks your shoulder and sucks on your sensitive skin, his thrusts getting sloppy.

“f-fuck, i’m getting close, baby~” he whispers hoarsely. “think you can come for me? keep squeezin’ your pretty cunt around me just like that?”

“mhm…” you whimper, nudging your cute little head into the pillow.

bucky fucks into you, groaning at the feeling of your warmth, and pins your shaking hips down on the bed before coming inside of you and making sure none of it drips out. loki cums too, his spent staining the expensive carpet.

shaky breaths tickle your ear, before he laughs and kisses your shoulder, pulling out and untying the belt on your wrists. loki laughs at how limp his pretty angel is as bucky lifts you up into his lap.

“cutie,” bucky traces a metal finger under your chin, brushing his lips against yours.

you shyly hum, eyes droopy and your body too exhausted to move.

but you still register the metallic click and something encasing your wrist.

“a little gift to you for being such a sweetheart, hmm?”

your eyes flutter open as you look down at the million-dollar gold watch around your wrist.

bucky laughs at the way your eyes widen. “don’t scratch it, baby. it’s a modern-day historical relic~”

“b-but didn’t loki lose?” you ask, “that’s why i-”

another set of arms wraps around you, making you wonder when loki got up from his seat.

“darling,” loki drawls, “what you don’t know is that either way, bucky would have ended up fucking your pretty cunt, mm? he likes you very much, doesn’t he?”

your lips part as he places you back down on the bed, spreading your legs before cradling the back of your head with one hand and grabbing your hips in the other.

“while bucky’s recovering from how good you made him feel, pretty angel~” loki praises you, kissing your lips and breaking away too soon, “let’s make the most of the night and your pretty body, shall we? don’t worry, you’re in very good hands with the both of us, my princess~”

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