Synopsis: You Try To Coexist With The Monstrous And Inappropriate Sukuna, The Demon Who Lives Under And

synopsis: you try to coexist with the monstrous and inappropriate sukuna, the demon who lives under and in your bed

word count: 2.3k

genre: fem!reader, au, smut, soft comedy (we will get to fluff but it ain’t at the beginning)

warnings: non-con, dub-con, graphic smut, 1st person pov, profanity, demon/paranormal stuff (more to be added)

a/n: welcome to my first series! i only planned on sticking to 1st person POV but sukuna just sounded better in third so deal with it lol (98% of this fic will stay in Y/N’s POV) also the mention of sorcerer isn’t canonical to JJK, i loosely based it off psychic mediums and paranormal things. i took many creative liberties and i’m roughly discovering the story as I go! (three *** indicate the passage of time)

bedfellows parts: to be added

Sukuna POV

It was a night like any other until Y/n dangled her foot over the edge of the bed. An unconscious and benign mistake.

Shadows began shifting under the bed, forming into a black clawed hand. The hand reached up, playfully stroking Y/n’s ankle to test the waters. A human’s energy was laid bare when sleeping, prime for inducing. The entity felt her energy seeping through, a delicious essence of life. Something he never had yet always hungered for. His fingers glided down the arch before resting his thumb on the sole of her foot, pressing in. Sharp nail pricking into the skin and drawing blood, a vicious smile appeared in the dark.

It is done.

Sukuna’s deep voice slithered around the room. “Nice pyjamas, no pants I see.”

Y/N remained motionless. Chest slowly rising and falling under the oversized t-shirt. She wasn’t going to rise to the bait, how boring. Time to play with his food instead.

Sukuna’s lethal fingers curled around Y/n’s ankle, charged with such power he could taste it on his tongue. In one tug, he threw her entire body out from under the sheets onto the hardwood floor. He erupted into menacing laughter and dissipated into thin air. Rudely awoken and dishevalled, Y/n slowly hauled herself up onto her knees. “Fuck.”

Children were taught to fear the monsters under their bed. But Y/n had grown up with them, and she was too dazed to deal with this now so she padded back to her bed.

***

Y/n POV

“Are there haunted items in this apartment by any chance?”

As if on queue, the light above the table flickered with a dilated hum. Figures. Seated at the living room table, my land lady decided to drop by for a visit. But it was prime time for an interrogation, and I needed answers.

There was something dark in this place. I could feel it.

“You ask that like it’s a normal question.” Miyu laughed into her tea before setting it down. She was a kindly 60 year old lady. Her lips pressed into a pensive line, eyes drifting around in thought. “From what I can recall, the mattress might be haunted?”

A long stretch of silence passed. The joke never came.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I said flatly. No wonder the apartment was so cheap. I got scammed! Miyu’s eyes flashed voraciously, baring her teeth in a wicked chuckle. This was nothing but fun and games to her.

“The last tenant had no trouble.” Miyu waved a hand. “You’re a sorceror right? This is nothing you can’t handle.”

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i’m leia, although some people also call me nani. Honestly, you can call me whatever you’d like. I’m twenty-one years old and a full-time college student, although I’m currently taking virtual classes. my pronouns are she/her/hers (they is also acceptable). 

content i make: sfw, some nsfw (minors dni with nsfw material), tons of aus.

fandoms i write for: jujutsu kaisen (main), fire force, my hero academia, haikyuu.  fandoms i’m considering writing for: blue lock, sk8 the infinity, burn the witch.

navigation

masterlist (needs updating) | rules | tags (wip)

miscellaneous: ko-fi (if you want to leave me something/or help with my medical bills) | ao3 | spotify 

popular works: 

shaken, not stirred universe, ft. bartender!sukuna and co. 

promised eternity, hades!sukuna x persephone!reader.

union, satoru gojo x original character (only on ao3 as of now).

OFFICE RELATIONS

FT. TOJI FUSHIGURO

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ PAIRINGS: Pervert Assisstant!Toji Fushiguro x CEO!Fem reader

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ CW: Perverted themes, non-con use of photography, office sex, a lot of teasing, fingering, begging, finger sucking, creampie

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ WORD COUNT: 4K+

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ FROM CHRIS: I really like this :)). Well, let me …long story short, someone had left me a little message in my taglist on how my pics could be longer. I couldn’t have agreed more so…yeah, pls enjoy bc I loved writing this

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LOVE TALK

pairing: bartender sukuna x reader (modern au)

summary: your love language doesn't quite align with sukuna's love language.

warnings: feelings of insecurity, smut (choking, spitting, some dirty talk, penetrative sex, kissing); this is an 18+ story

word count: 5.9k

a/n: written for mz kentobean and from the valentines day prompts i reblogged a while back. enjoy! idr who was on my tag list from before so i tagged a few people from memory

Most people, including Sukuna himself, would not expect a sensitive, genuinely nice girl to be with a gruff, rough-around-the-edges kind of guy like him. You are clear opposites in many aspects, and most times, it doesn’t get to Sukuna. He knows you’re brave, you challenge anything that isn’t right, behind your bright smile is a sleeping lion.

You challenge him everyday, forcing him to think outside of what has always been normal for him. Not to mention how sharp your tongue is.

Just because you love him doesn’t mean you’re easy on him.

Your relationship with Sukuna isn’t new, but you’re still navigating what it means for you both. Sometimes you think you understand him, you think you’ve got a handle on the inner workings of Ryomen Sukuna. And then other times, you think his stony, cold gaze might be the end of you even if it’s hardly ever directed at you. Sometimes you can’t tell what he’s thinking and you find seeds of insecurity burying itself in your heart.

You can’t help it. Sukuna comes to you late after long nights at work without saying much to you, only wanting to hold you close in bed as you watch your show together on the tiny television in your bedroom. You’d run a hand through his hair and look at him with sleepy eyes and ask about his day. Sukuna wouldn’t reply, only telling you to be quiet because he was exhausted.

But not too exhausted to kiss you and bury himself in your warmth.

He’d promised you that he would buy you a bigger tv someday, when he didn’t have to work nearly eighty hour work weeks and had more time (and money).

In your heart, you know that he believes in your relationship. Sukuna is not a man who does anything half-heartedly. You were the woman who caught his eye when you had scolded one of his bartenders in his bar for watering down your drink. He was smitten from then, whether he had known it or not. (He’d been in denial over you for a long time, trying to convince himself that you were just an annoying pest with nothing but a desire to get under his skin. What was a sweet thing like you doing at a bar called Kings and Curses anyway?)

You know Sukuna loves you- he keeps a photo of you in his wallet, everything he does is with you and your future together in mind, he always holds you close and is very protective of you wherever you are. You’ve already met his little brother Yuuji and his friends. He’s incredibly thoughtful as well, the minute you text him telling him you’re not feeling well, he brings your favorite foods and your favorite wine. He’s perceptive of you and Sukuna always has a hand on you, your arm, your lower back, your thigh. He’s always touching you and you didn’t care about being touched this much until you met him.

You didn’t realize how touch starved you were until you met him. You know he loves you but sometimes you’d like to hear it, too. You don’t want anything sappy or overdone, you just want him to be open with you.

Truthfully, you don’t mind most days that you talk but you don’t talk to him. But lately, he’s physically with you but not with you. Even if he doesn’t say it to you that often, you know he loves you.

But it feels like you’ve been trying to convince yourself of it more often than not.

*************

“Hey,” you say tentatively, “How was your day?”

“Same shit, different day,” Sukuna shrugs, “Whatever.”

“Nothing interesting happened?” you ask, rubbing his chest comfortingly. You kiss the underside of his jaw, and then his lips in greeting. He likes seeing you like this, a little sleepy and comfortable in your pajamas with a glow to your skin. But he’s starting to get irritated from all of the long hours and late nights working.

He wants to see you when it’s not just time for bed.

His brows are furrowed in annoyance and his jaw is clenched. Something has made him angry and you don’t know what.

“Nothing interesting ever happens,” Sukuna shrugs. You can feel him slipping through your fingers.

“Are you hungry?” you ask in a small voice, “I made-”

“No, I’m not fucking hungry. Just so fucking tired of this shit-”

“Of what-” you ask but he continues to cut you off.

“All of this shit. God, I just want to sleep,” he groans.

“Okay, but aren’t you hungry? It’s nearly midnight, I’m sure you haven’t eaten much,” you reply, turning on your heel to head for the fridge, “Why don’t you go shower and food’ll be ready?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m going to bed. You coming?” Sukuna replies rather dismissively. You raise an eyebrow.

“Excuse me? Do not dismiss me like that-” you glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest, “I know you had a long day, but don’t take that shit out on me, baby.”

He raises an annoyed eyebrow. “Why are you fighting me right now?”

Your temper begins to flare when nonchalance coats his voice, but you take a few seconds before responding. “I feel like you’ve been incredibly dismissive of me for the last few weeks. I’ve barely had a real conversation with you-”

“I’ve been fucking tired-”

“Tired? Really? You somehow aren’t tired enough to hang out with Toji every fucking week-”

“Seriously? Are you jealous of Toji?” Sukuna asks, condescension dripping on his tongue. It absolutely incenses you.

“You’re being a dick, you’re not understanding what I’m trying to say.”

“So then explain. Are you trying to say we don’t hang out? I come home to you every night-”

“Am I supposed to be grateful that you decide to grace me with your presence from the hours of 12 AM to fucking 8 AM? And that you’ve chosen me to fuck? You don’t even talk to me anymore. You just fuck me and go to bed. Whatever, Sukuna.”

You turn to head into the bedroom as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. Sukuna tries to reach for you to maybe give you a kiss, but you’re too upset to accept his touch.

“Baby…” he trails off, unsure of what to do. You shrug and disappear into your bedroom, eager to bury yourself under the comforters and cry. Sukuna doesn’t recall the last time you had both fought to this degree, much less gone to bed upset, hurt, and angry.

But now that it’s in his face, you’re right. Like always. Sukuna doesn’t remember the last time he held an actual conversation with you and he recognizes the signs of you wanting his attention.

And him brushing you off in return.

You feel the bed dip next to you and resist the desire to wrap yourself around his warmth. It chokes you, a sudden wave of sadness washing over you and pushing a sob out of your chest and into the silence of the night.

“We’re not going to bed like this,” Sukuna murmurs, reaching for your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you say stubbornly but still relax in his embrace. You press your teary cheeks into his chest and he rubs your back before wiping your eyes.

“Oh, now you don’t want to talk?” Sukuna says, trying to get a smile out of you but instead, it just infuriates you further.

“Are you fucking serious?” you fume, and pull away from him. You turn on your side, facing away from him. Sukuna stares at your back.

“Don’t be like this, baby,” he tries again.

“Don’t be like what exactly?” you scoff, “Whatever. We can talk when you decide you want to talk, not when you feel like you have to.”

And that’s that.

You absolutely hate going to bed upset with Sukuna, not that it’s happened many times before. Not to this degree at least. Maybe you should have listened to him and talked it out instead.

No. He doesn’t need to know that.

Sukuna tries to get you to talk to him and much to his chagrin, you don’t respond well to his attempts. You don’t feel much like talking and you tell him as much. Your feelings are hurt and you feel like wallowing for a bit and it doesn’t help that he responds the way he does.

He’s harsh and blunt, and this is not new information.

“So you gonna talk to me today about why you’re mad at me or are you going to keep fucking ignoring me?”

You bristle. “It doesn’t sound like you want to talk.”

Sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose and inhales deeply. “I don’t need this right now. I’m trying to fucking talk to you and this is what I get? Yeah, I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

You falter at that. You don’t recall your fights with him ever being that terrible where he ended up on the couch. “The couch?”

“You clearly don’t want me near you. So yeah, the fucking couch.”

And he goes, leaving you colder than you’ve ever been. Sukuna can’t stand the distance between you both- he’s itching to hold you, to mumble into your skin that he loves you so much and he can’t stand this, that he’s sorry he hurt you.

But the right words just don’t come and your sad eyes flash in his mind as he tries to sleep.

You’re not used to being in bed without Sukuna, and you don’t like it. You can’t sleep without him usually, much less without him when you both are fighting. You don’t like that this is what it’s come to, despite the words being ready on your tongue. It’s hard for the words to spill from your lips. It makes you feel silly but you know you’re not asking for too much.

There’s no reason for you both to go to bed without each other. He’s definitely still awake as well, most likely replaying your last conversation in his mind. Your feet move once you make up your mind and you take your comforter with you.

You can feel his dark eyes tracking your movements as you trek into the living room.

“Sukuna,” you mumble sadly. He thinks you’re cute, standing there awkwardly with your comforter wrapped around your shoulders like a cape. Wordlessly, he opens his arms up for you to climb into his embrace and you do, instantly sighing in relief when he wraps himself around you. It must look comical, the way you both are intertwined with each other on the couch when the bed is literally right there.

But neither of you want to make a sound or want to move. It’s much easier to fall asleep when his arms are around you and when your cheek is pressed against his bare chest. Sukuna kisses your forehead, his lips featherlight and uncharacteristically gentle.

“Your brother, who is coincidentally the love of my life, is a jackass,” you inform Yuuji after a sip of your coffee. Hanging out with the younger brother of your boyfriend wasn’t out of the ordinary, but this specific coffee date had a purpose.

“Oh boy, what did he do now?” Yuuji asks curiously. As far as he knew, you were both happy and in love. He’s happy for his brother to have found a nice person like you.

“He- just-,” you sigh, “I don’t know. He doesn’t talk to me or tell me how he feels. About me, or about much else unless it pisses him off.”

“He’s a little emotionally stunted, especially when it comes to feelings,” Yuuji shrugs, “But you knew this, didn’t you?”

He asks it so innocently that a sarcastic reply doesn’t even form on your lips.

“Yeah,” you nod, “I did…”

“He has a photo of you in his wallet and the only person he answers the phone to immediately is when you call,” Yuuji reminds you gently after a bite of food, “He’s not good with his words, or at least that’s what he thinks.”

“I know. I just…need to hear from his mouth sometimes. Like if he went more than a day without touching me, he’d throw a fucking fit-”

“Yeah, I really don’t need to hear from my sibling-in-law about how my brother touches you,” he scoffs and your face heats up at the implication. Yuuji says it so easily that you don’t think he even recognizes what he said. “Maybe you should tell him.”

“I have! He doesn’t listen. He takes it as a joke, I think, like it’s my love language,” you trail off, a little sadly, “Sukuna’s so busy these days. He barely makes time for himself, let alone for me.”

Yuuji makes a sympathetic little noise. “He forgets that things are better than they were when we were growing up. He knows but… maybe you should remind him again.”

Sukuna’s glaring at the rack of weights as if they’d personally wronged him. He decides that lifting isn’t enough. Today, he’s going to blow off some steam by paying a visit to Fushiguro Toji in his boxing gym.

Specifically, he’s going to blow off some steam by getting better acquainted with his favorite punching bag tucked away in the corner of the gym.

Toji watches his friend glare at the punching bag as if it’s the solution to his woes. Sukuna has been here for hours now and the sun has long gone down. In the last few years (really, over a decade now), Toji has gotten to know Sukuna relatively well. Especially considering that Yuuji and Megumi have been best friends since they were teenagers. If Sukuna’s here this late, looking as angry and frustrated as he does…

Toji can only deduce that it means that Sukuna doesn’t necessarily want to go home.

“So what is it? Work? Relationship troubles?” Toji asks, leaning against the wall. From the way Sukuna tenses up, he assumes it’s the latter.

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Fushiguro,” Sukuna all but growls, shooting him a death glare which would intimidate anyone else. Toji laughs derisively in response.

“Spit it out before you ruin another one of my punching bags,” Toji says easily, earning himself another glare. But Sukuna doesn’t listen, instead telling him to fuck off once more.

“Fine, then let’s spar,” Toji shrugs and Sukuna follows him into the ring with another testy roll of his dark eyes, “Maybe that’ll help your dumbass, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna says, but smirks at him anyway.

The first punch feels as good as the last.

“She says I don’t fucking talk to her,” Sukuna finally mutters after about an hour of throwing jabs and punches at Toji, sweat lining his brow and making his normally pink hair appear a darker shade, “Everything’s for her, and she says I don’t fucking talk to her.”

And Toji begins to understand. He hasn’t been married for nearly twenty years by not understanding, after all.

“Well, have you fucking talked to her?”

“...No.”

“Then there’s your first fuckin’ problem. How long has it been?”

“About a week and a half-”

“A week? You let this shit go on for a fuckin’ week? You’re more stupid than I thought.”

“Fuck you, Fushiguro-”

“Shut the fuck up, which one of us is in a twenty year long marriage?” Toji asks bluntly and it’s possibly the first time Sukuna has ever held his tongue, “You should go fuckin’ talk to her about why she feels alone and why you feel like working all the time is a good fuckin’ idea. Instead trying to pull a fuckin’ muscle fighting me. We both know you’ll never win.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes and throws a purposely weak punch at Toji’s jaw that he easily dodges and returns at full power.

“And do it soon, because my wife is planning for a dinner in a few weeks and I won’t have awkwardness in my house if you both are fucking broken up.”

“We need to fucking talk,” you declare when you emerge from your bedroom still in your light blue blouse and your grey pants that you wore to work. Your makeup is still pristine from the morning, only your lip gloss has faded away.

Sukuna knows the heat in your dark eyes. You’re on a mission. It’s funny because today was the day he was going to do it, he was going to spill to you exactly how he felt and give your relationship exactly what it needed. As always, you beat him to the punch.

“I’m not losing you or our fucking relationship because you won’t talk to me. So either you’re gonna fucking talk to me, or I’m gonna force it out of you. Because the more space I give you, the more you’ll pull away. Do you understand? Are we clear?”

Sukuna can’t help the warmth in his cheeks. He likes when you toss him around, after all.

“Uh,” he says rather stupidly, “Hello to you, too.” Sukuna drops his backpack and eyes you warily. He rubs the back of his neck. He wants nothing more than to feel the heat obviously radiating off of your bare skin, feel how angry you are with him with your thighs around his head. But he says nothing and swallows.

“Take a seat, my love. I made us drinks.”

Sukuna holds off on taking a sip of his drink (it’s his favorite, and he won’t have a sip of the drink that you made him until he says his piece). He squares his shoulders , adjusts his posture and pushes his lewd thoughts of unbuttoning your blouse to kiss your chest out of his mind.

Longing washes over him even though you’re right next to him, waiting patiently for him to say something.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, his voice gruff, “I’m sorry I made you feel alone and like someone who just warms our bed. I’m just fucking sorry and I don’t want to lose you.”

Sukuna’s eyes are on you, meeting your gaze. His ears are a little pink but he’ll never not meet your eyes. You offer him a warm smile and even reach over to hold his hand.

“I know you feel like you have to work all the time,” you murmur, your voice soft and honeyed, “To create a future for us where we don’t have to worry about money and security. But… I think we’re okay, you know. Things aren’t like how they were when we were growing up. When you were growing up.

I love you so much and I love that you think of the future you want to build with me. But I also want you to be in the present with me. I just want you to talk to me. I don’t want anything elaborate except for your time and…for you to tell me what’s on your mind. That’s not asking for much. I don’t want to lose you but you have to talk to me, too. I don’t want to change you. I love you for you but I just…you have to talk to me, too.”

Your dark eyes are wide and expectant once your voice tapers off, patiently waiting for him to speak. He’s not good at this (it’s not new knowledge to you either) but still, he tries. For you.

“You…” he starts and you only smile at him in encouragement, “You’re too good for me, do you know that? Too fuckin’ soft and good. And I work all the fucking time because it’s hard not to. You know how it was, how everything was a struggle. But I fucking made you feel alone in the process, when I was focused on the future. You should be with someone better-”

“Stop that fucking shit,” you say loudly and clearly, irritation clear on your face, “I hate that shit. Don’t question my choices when I’m not asking you to do much.”

It’s not the first time that Sukuna doesn’t know what to say to you. Emotion is thick in his voice when he finally speaks. “I just… can’t fucking lose you. Not like this.”

“So then show me.”

“I got you these,” Sukuna says gruffly, meeting your eyes from the kitchen. He’s just toed his boots off and hung his jacket up in the too small closet and is now staring you down as if you’ve personally accosted him. You’re seated on the couch, wine glass in your hand and you look behind him in confusion.

“They’re your favorite, right?”

Before you can reply, the bouquet of fresh sunflowers, roses and peonies is sailing through the air only to land in your lap. You can’t help but laugh.

“You just threw my favorite flowers at me,” you state with an amused grin.

“Yes, astute observation,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck. Despite his attempts in looking unaffected and as if getting you flowers was a nuisance, his cheeks are dusted pink.

“Thanks, baby,” you beam at him, sunshine bleeding out of your damn eyes, “What’s this for?”

“I made reservations tonight for seven-thirty,” Sukuna continues, busying himself with inspecting a nonexistent chip in his black nail polish.

“You don’t have to work?” you ask, rising from the couch to close the space between you both. You know he’s been trying with you- asking you more questions and talking to you more instead of shutting off when he was stressed. He’s even stopped working late as many days, as difficult as that was for him to let go of.

You never wanted him to change who he was. You just wanted him to talk to you.

“I don’t. Don’t make a big deal because it’s not. It’s just dinner,” he warns you when your smile widens and you look at him with hearts in your eyes.

“And my favorite flowers,” you add. Sukuna rolls his eyes.

“Do you have a crush on me or something? That’s so embarrassing,” you tease (you can’t help it, not when your usually gruff man is showing you a sliver of vulnerability).

“Shut up, dumbass,” Sukuna says with no heat in his voice. He pulls you into his chest with hardened eyes as he traces your jaw with his finger. He wraps a calloused hand loosely around your throat, pressing along the sides of your windpipe with a practiced precision (as if he’s been here a thousand times before- and he has). Your eyes are wide, glazed over with desire dripping from your pupils.

And then he flicks your forehead. Hard.

“I love you. You know I fucking love you so don’t question it again.”

Sukuna gives you his full attention, his gaze never once straying from yours. He likes to keep you seated next to him (so he can touch you easily), and this time is no different. You glitter under the dim lights of the restaurant, likely filled with other couples enjoying an evening. But he only has eyes for you, and he thinks he only ever will have eyes for you.

He rubs your bare thigh mindlessly with his thumb as you tell him about your day, about the silly thing your friend did. About how you think you need more plants in your already plant infested home, how you’re almost finished with the book you’re reading and how you’re running out of your favorite coffee beans.

It’s all so incredibly, wonderfully mundane and Sukuna can’t help but cut you off in the middle of your ramblings with a sharp kiss. Your protests die on your tongue- neither of you care that you’re in a very public place (though you’re both tucked away in a corner where nobody is really watching you). The taste of your wine is ripe on your tongue, the buzzing in your brain turned into a pleasant hum when he snakes a hand around your waist to squeeze your ass.

A trail of spit connects your lips to his when he pulls away and the familiar flare of possessiveness in his belly when he sees the dazed look in your eyes nearly makes him kiss you again.

“Careful, Sukuna,” you say, honey dripping from your bitten lips, “You might fall in love with me-”

“I’m keeping you,” he mumbles into your skin, “I want you forever.”

And he kisses you again.

********

Sukuna pulls you into his chest and presses you against the door as soon as he closes it and locks it behind him. You already know how he operates- Sukuna is nothing if not a creature of habit. His favorite thing in the world to do is to enjoy an evening with you and end the night in between your legs or with your soft thighs clamped around his head, your hands tugging his pink locks.

“Dinner was great, right?” you ask breathily as his big hands cradle your hips. He hums in reply and takes his time unbuttoning your coat and sliding it easily off of your shoulders. His rough fingers are gentle over your arms, tracing over your bare shoulders before hanging your coat up for you.

Sukuna doesn’t allow you to move an inch as he gets on his knees and peers up at you from in front of you.

“You wanna eat me out right here? ‘M not even wet yet,” you joke. It’s a lie and you both know it.

“No, stupid. I’m taking your heels off,” he rolls his eyes and pinches your bare thigh. Raising your foot and leaning against the door, you push your foot into his broad chest. His touch is slight but firm when the pads of his fingers roll into your calf and then your ankle. Sukuna doesn’t let go of your gaze, holding it with his own.

“You look good down there,” you muse, head tilted to the side when you push your bare toes into his chest once your heels are off.

A barely heard chuckle escapes his chapped lips. “Yeah, don’t get used to it.”

Except this is what Sukuna always does when you both enter the threshold of your home together. Undressing you is one of his favorite activities, especially after a night out together. If it were up to him, he’d keep you next to him, under him, by his side in the comforting walls of your home.

But it’s not just up to him. So he cherishes the way goosebumps rise on your heated skin and the way your breath hitches when his fingers trail up your thigh- up and up and up.

You don’t hide the way your body reacts to him. His fingers brush against your panties and your hips buck into his touch, a wanton sigh escaping your lips. There’s no reason to, after all. There’s no need to pretend that the tattoos that peek out from his unbuttoned dress shirt don’t make you weak in the knees. You are pliant and bendable with his thick but nimble fingers. He’s dragging this out, making you click your tongue impatiently with wanting. It’s not that you don’t like when he’s like this. It’s that you’ve missed him.

So you tug on his hand and wordlessly ask him to stand up so you can slip your tongue into his mouth easily. Sukuna cradles your cheek gently, swallowing your little moans and soft hums. Your hands wander over his chest, his torso, his arms before settling over his ass. And you squeeze generously, laughing into his kiss when he gasps in surprise.

“Come here, princess,” Sukuna murmurs with a smirk, returning your squeeze with a rough squeeze of his own. You grin salaciously as heat warms your belly and you look at him with syrupy eyes.

Those eyes are reserved for him and him only. He surges forward once more to capture your lips with his in a rush of possessiveness. Sukuna never wants you to look at another man with those sweet eyes. Your body is pressed tightly against his as if he’s trying to pull you into his own soul.

“Baby,” you purr, nipping his earlobe and pulling a soft grunt from him, “I want you bad, baby.” Sukuna smacks your ass and hauls you over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing.

********

“Baby,” Sukuna hisses, his voice low with lust, “Fuck, baby, you were made for me. Look at you.” His large hands are tight around your hips as he glides easily in and out of your velvety walls, groaning loudly when you squeeze him. The pale purple sheets beneath your belly muffle your hoarse moans and nonsensical calls of his name.

Your skin is damp with sweat and the sheets are already damp with your slick and remnants of his cum. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you cum by now, your thighs already deliciously sore. He’s had you bent over, on your knees, in his lap, on your back and while you’re a little tired- you can’t get enough of him. You just want to make him feel good with you, around you, in you…

Sukuna uncurls your hands which are clenched into fists, gripping the sheets tightly. He intertwines his fingers with yours and squeezes your hand, mesmerized by the way your ass bounces with every thrust of his cock in your pussy. Your hand grazes his thigh when you reach behind and he smacks your ass lightly (he knows you’re a little tired, after all).

You moan into the sheets and shudder when he stills inside of you. Sukuna leans over and kisses the back of your neck, down your spine and you whine. A wave of affection washes over you. “Baby,” you mumble, “Wanna see you-”

Sukuna wraps an arm around you, just below your tits and pulls you up so that your back is pressed against his chest. His breaths are soft against your skin, enough for goosebumps to rise. Warmth bursts in every one of your nerve endings when he pulls you even closer, somehow. He presses his lips to the side of your neck and kisses you delicately as he starts to move inside of you once more.

“You got me so fucked up,” he pants lowly into your ear, “Fuck, I love you, look at me-”

Sukuna grips your throat and applies pressure just the way you like while he holds you steady. You don’t reply, your head lolling on his shoulder. Your cheek is pressed against one of the many tattoos that grace his body and you dart out your tongue to lick his sweaty skin.

He tugs your jaw towards him so he can see the darkness in your fucked out, hazy eyes. There is nothing in your mind except for him, the way he fills you up and surrounds you so warmly and perfectly. You think about how long it had taken for him to admit to you that he liked you (you had told him within a week of pestering him at his bar that you wanted to take him to dinner. Sukuna was embarrassed to admit that he had been flustered by that. But it’s just like you, to sweep him off of his feet unexpectedly. He would have been content to just yearn after you with his longing glances that borderline made him look murderous).

“Open your mouth, baby,” Sukuna says, his teeth grazing your neck. He collects a ball of spit at the tip of his tongue and nearly cums when you open your mouth obediently and look at him with those wide eyes. He thinks he could kill anyone who would ever see you like this. His thrusts are messy and rough as he spits loudly into your waiting mouth and you swallow diligently. Offering him a smile.

“Fuck,” he groans and smears the remnants of his spit on your lips before biting your bottom lip, “I fucking love you.”

You barely have it in you to respond, but you need to. “I l-love you,” your voice is raspy, “‘M gonna cum. I wanna see you.”

He has you on your back, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist. Sukuna looms over you, his massive chest and powerful thighs nearly casting a shadow over you. You trace over his tattoos slowly before tugging on his silver necklace and pulling him closer to you. He drops his weight on you and it’s more than welcome. You love feeling him like this- you’re strong and protected and safe with him.

Sukuna’s forearms rest on either side of your head as he pushes himself inside of you once more. Honestly, you don’t mind if you don’t cum. You just like feeling him like this. Consuming you and devouring you with every inch of him. Burning with his touch, his gruff whispers in your ear- how beautiful you are, how much he loves you. He rocks into you with purpose, as if trying to prove something to you.

When he kisses you so softly as if stardust has landed on your lips, you cum and he does, too.

*********

“Baby,” you mumble, pecking his bare shoulder. Sukuna hums but doesn’t open his eyes, instead, he rolls on top of you to get closer to you. His heartbeat presses against your chest, soft and slow. Nearly lulling you to sleep.

But not quite yet. Sukuna had cleaned you both up and manhandled you into a pair of his clean boxers (that you had stolen) and a shirt of his (also stolen). He’d washed your face of the remnants of cum that had stained your lips. You don’t know how he’s able to function, when your legs are so sore and your mind is so deliciously fuzzy.

He carried you back to bed where he had given you a thigh massage (and was very tempted to eat you out. But you were so sleepy and cute that he resisted). Warmth spreads in your chest as you watch him try to sleep in the too small bed. It’s comical, watching him trying to adjust to the size of your bed. Sukuna complains about it nearly every night, but neither of you seem to mind enough to buy a bigger one.

It’s one of the things Sukuna has promised himself he’ll buy you when everything is enough.

You kiss his cheek and this time he opens one eye and tightens his hold around your waist.

“What is it,” he asks, voice low with fatigue. Realization washes over him, making him a little more alert. “...Did you enjoy dinner today?”

Surprise colors your face momentarily before your lips pull apart into a happy smile. “Yeah. I especially loved dessert. And I don’t mean your cock, I mean the tiramisu we had at the end of the night.”

“Oh, you mean the one you stole off my plate?”

“It’s our plate, baby. Don’t be silly. And you don’t even like desserts like that.”

“You and your fucking sweet tooth. Walking cavity,” Sukuna teases, pulling a laugh from you.

“I want to take you to this bar that Gojo told me about. You would like it, it’s like a little arcade-”

“Let’s go on Thursday,” he agrees and yawns, “If that other sweet toothed fucker is coming, you better give me a 72 hour heads up so I can mentally prepare.”

“Alright, baby,” you laugh and peck his lips, “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

“Mmm, goodnight, princess,” he says, kissing your shoulder, “See ya in the morning.”

Your heart is full, and sleep comes easily with Sukuna’s arms tight around you.

*****************************************************************

tags: @kentobean @aeanya @captainchrisstan @simpingmaize

Take care . Toji Fushiguro

Warning/Disclaimer: age gap + mention of sexual themes (nothing explicit)

Words count: 1.7k

It was getting late.

Feeling the soft material of the lacy undergarment residing under her sheer robe, Y/N looked around to see who was left in the club. Rare were the ones standing up as most of the men were either drunk or intoxicated by the movements of the workers.

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not around - MYG | M

↣ Min Yoongi, one of your closest friends, the popular guy, funny and charming, captain of the basketball team, aspiring rapper and producer, incredibly handsome and your crush for a long time, ALSO your best friend’s (head cheerleader) new boyfriend. Trouble begins.

pairing: basketball player!yoongi x cheerleader!reader

based on this request.

genre: angst, fluff, smut, f2l

word count: 19.8K (when I write Yoongi I can’t stop)

play: not around by nova

warnings/tags: college au, heavy angst, Yoongi is so sweet, kind and oblivious, strong language, insecurities about body image, Y/N overthinks, Y/N’s best friend is mean but Y/N turns into a ~savage~, mentions of infidelity, mentions of bullying, Y/N and her mum lowkey gossip, Y/N has big 🍒, Yoongi has a breast kink, 171229 Yoongi oof, slight Hobi action, explicit smut- slight public action, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, oral (f & m), titty fuck, brief handjob, spitting, riding, hickeys, protected sex

a/n: pleaseee listen to that song when they’re playing basketball together (if you remember). I cry each time I listen to it, it reminds me of Yoongi somehow.

∞

“BANGTAN! BANGTAN! BANGTAN!”

Waving your pom poms in the air, you watch Yoongi dash along the side of the court, with a flick of his wrist, the crowd goes wild.

Suhee begins to chant Yoongi’s name, you and the squad join in. Yoongi waves at the crowd then winks in your direction, maybe you could pretend, that it was directed at you but Suhee’s squeal pierces straight through that thought.

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