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hoshigray · 11 months ago

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⊹˚୨ Too Sweet ✮NOT✮ to Spoil! ୧˚⊹ | jjk men

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ choso, kento, satoru, suguru, sukuna & toji × how their sweet sub is treated.

contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size differences - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - Daddy/sir kink - sloppy kissing/making out - breast fondling + nipple stimulation - thigh riding - squirting - dry-humping/grinding - praising - sex toys - voyeurism (consensual) - face + throat-fucking - [un]protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - more stuff specified in their respective perspectives - mention of drool/spit and tears.

word count: 6k (yikes, overkill, lol)

a. note: requested by an anon; yahooo, another one of these!!

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Kamo Chōsō ⋮ kissing/making out - breast fondling + nipple stimulation + sucking - dry-humping - masturbation (m! receiving) - cowgirl position - pet names (angel, baby, sweetie).

Choso loves to have you close to him, your soft lips meshed with his, his hands roaming inside your shirt to feel your skin while yours grip his tee.

“Haahh, Choso…please.”

“I know, sweetie,” he hushes you with his lips. “I’m right here…Hmm.”

You and your boyfriend were on his bed, two figures in a close space. Choso likes having you at his place, taking this time to enjoy you all to himself. Especially after you two spent time together today, going out on a little outing and enjoying each other to start their weekend. Now, after the sunset on your way home, the two of you use the night to spark more intimate moments.

Choso gropes your chest after sneaking his hands under your bra. The softness of your mounds has him sigh, his slender fingers sinking into the plumpness. The kiss breaks for him to observe as you lift your shirt, the sight having him gulp thickly from what he’s doing to you as you evoke cute noises by the tweezes of your nipples.

“Choso,” you whine, your hands finding his shoulders to grab onto. “Please, keep touching me…”

The brown-headed one nods and steadily descends his face, kissing gently on your exposed chest. You mewl at the contact of his lips on your skin, latching onto them for a second longer for you to shake. Your breath hitches at the feel of his mouth brushing your nipple, mouth agape at the feel of his tongue inching closer to your bud. Slow swishes have you ball your fists until he decides to take the tip into his mouth wholly to suck.

You cry, “Yesss…More, touch me more.”

Choso continues to keep sucking, pleasing you with the flick of his tongue and pushing the nip to the rough of his mouth. The other hand tends to the other breast, and he moans on your body as you sneak to touch the groin of his sweatpants.

Pretty fingers rub on him, feeling the stiffening limb sheltered within getting firmer by the second. You grab hold of it, palming his erection to hear more of his moans. “D-Don’t…!”

“I want it,” you purr as you sneak your hand into the hem of his sweats. “Pleasee, I wanna make you cum…Can I?”

How could he ever dismiss you when you’re asking so nicely? He releases your nipple and maneuvers to lay on his back. The gleeful smile makes him chuckle, watching you remove his sweatpants to throw down to the bedroom floor, along with your frilly skirt and panties.

Choso groans as you bring your bare cunt to his erect penis, pressing it down to his abdomen as you begin to rock your hips to and fro. He whimpers; the touch of your folds has him hanging by a thread. Chocolate orbs stuck to the display of him nestling between the lips of your lower region. Fuck, you felt too good, your slick sticking to him like goo and wetting his shaft.

“Fuck, he sighs deeply. “You feel…so good, baby.”

The comment makes you titter, placing your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your hips move a little faster. He holds you by the waist, sinking to the sensation of you pleasing him with just your labia sailing on top of him. You reach for the tip of his cock and grind your pelvis down, the movement making Choso curl his toes at the feeling on his most sensitive part.

His hips begin to jolt on their own, bucking to match your rhythm to a union. Complying, one of your hands comes around behind you to cup his balls, kneading the testes to evoke your partner to keen.

“Ghhhh, shit, shit,” he curses below you, his fingers clamping onto the skin of your waist as you hump faster. “God, you’re so good at this.”

“You gonna cum?” Your question with batting eyes, increasing the pace with the flex of your abs, a firmer grip on his scrotum. Choso nods hurriedly. “Cum for me, Choso; cum, cum!”

You pamper him with cheers as you go harder and briskly on top of his dick. You felt so fucking good, having shivers crawl up the poor pig-tailed man’s frame. All he can think about is how it would feel once he’s inside you, how tight and warm you’d sense at his solid length. Reminiscing about the familiar feeling of your snug walls swallowing him whole nearly has him choke on his spit.

“—Ahhck!! A-Angel, slow down a b—Mmmm!” There’s no point; you’re too into your thrusts that whatever happens after this is inexorable. Choso laments with quick arches, white substance evicting out of his urethra, falling with force and plaster onto the pale skin of his stomach. The shocks of his orgasm have his body jerking with pleasure.

You witness his crescendo, eyeing where every spurt of his semen is expelled. The raunchy image makes you lick your lips with a bite, your boyfriend catching his breath in huffs and pants.

“Hey, Choso,” he looks to you with such comely, dazed eyes. You remove yourself from him and lay on your back with legs risen, spreading your folds wet and sticky of your come.

“Cum inside me just like, yeah?”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Nanami Kento ⋮ masturbation (m! receiving) - licking + nibbling oral (m! receiving) - ball fondling + sucking - facials - pet names (baby, honey, love, sweetpea) - cameo: Ijichi (phone call).

He groans. "Baby, not now..."

"Please, Kento, just one time..."

Nanami should've known what he was getting into when he waltzed into his shared apartment. Work is meant to be kept out of his home, his place to relax and bask in the comfort of his leisure. However, he had to hurry and take up a phone call with one of his peers about a pressing issue, only having enough time to greet you with a kiss before pulling out his phone and walking to the kitchen.

He should've foreseen you coming into the frey, making the scenario hard enough to deal with. "Kento."

"Shhhh, not right now, love." He places his hand to brush your cheek. "Gotta take this...Hey, I'm at home. Ready when you are."

That wasn't enough for you; your lips contorted to a tiny frown. Because you're walking to his proximity by the kitchen island, your hands snake around his waist, and he chews his lip as your fingers trim the edge of his belt.

“Ken,” you whisper as you unbuckle him. “You promised.”

“Honey, please, I can’t do it—Mmmm!” You push your hands inside his pants to palm his flaccid dick—not so soft once you start touching him.

“But you swore!” He doesn’t have time for your whining or fingers motioning around between his pants and boxer briefs. “You said I could suck you off the moment you come ho—“

“Not so loud!”

“Huh, Nanami-san?”

Shit! “Sorry, Ijichi,” the blonde man apologizes. “Give me a second.” Nanami presses the mute button on the phone and looks at you with warranted bewilderment. “You can’t be doing that while I’m on the phone!”

You hit him with a pout. “But you promised I could do it!”

“Yes, I know, but—“

“And you’re the one who texted me about having such a stressful day at work,” you cut him off, pressing your body onto his. “I asked if I could help you ease some stress, and you said yes, so…I’m just doing what I’m supposed to.”

“Baby—”

“Please?” You have him stuck to the kitchen counter, unable to leave your side as your hands find his chest. “I promise I won’t be too loud during your call.”

A huge sigh escapes through the man’s nostrils, groaning into his hands as if it’s a big enough shield from your pouting face. However, it’s futile once he sees your pleading eyes, beckoning him to grant you permission for this one thing you wish to do for him. You looked too precious to ignore, the twinge of his heart worsening just for even trying to go against you.

He shakes his head, “…Do it quietly. Understand?” Your facial expression perks to immediate glee, your partner wishing he had his goggles to sheathe you, blinding him. He picks up the phone and unmutes, “Okay, I’m back. What about the proposition brought by Mei Mei and…”

You quietly move on your virtue as he speaks to his colleague, his body still by the counter, giving the advantage to roam your hands around him as you please. The blonde flattens his lips to suppress any suspicious noises that could be caught by Ijichi, especially when your hand returns to his solid erection after pulling his pants down.

Short grunts evade him, making it difficult to stay composed. And you — so daring — decide to kiss the man on the lips. Oh, you were playing dirty, egging him on with a quiet moan that sounded so delightful. His erection gets firmer and firmer, practically sinking into your firm yet gentle touch.

A soft sound leaves your lips after the kiss, and you decide to slide down and attend to his dick and to leave the sand-haired man to concentrate on his call—or at least try to. His pink glans look inviting, feeling his shaft throb under your fingertips. You start by blowing on it, sending shivers up his spine.

“Mhmm, mhmm…Yeah, I agree,” he replies to the other side of the line, his eyes wandering around the kitchen to try and distract himself away from you stroking on his cock so attentively. But then, his free hand grips onto the counter when something wet whisk around the tip of his cock. “Has…Yaga ever told you about Gojo’s standing in this?”

You flick your tongue on his cockhead, slithering up from the underside to the frenulum and sucking the rough skin with smooches. You start slow by sucking in his cockhead, hallowing your cheeks, and loosening your jaw to introduce your warm orally.

The sounds you make to him aren’t avoidable, no matter how hard Nanami tries to focus on Ijichi’s voice; all it does is fade away and enhance your mewls as you suck him off. “Okay…Tha..That’s good. And what about the first years? The mission is sometime soon; should there be anyone—Nnnmph!”

Finally, his mocha brown eyes peer down to look at you—fuck, what a big mistake. You were too focused on him, slurping on his cock before coating him with your saliva and mixing in with the precum oozing out. Then, confidence fuels you to take more of him inch by inch, bobbing your head to form a rhythm where your lips meet the tippy top to the very hilt of his pubes.

“N-Nanami-san?!” Ijichi cries out from the other side. “Are you okay?”

“Gi–Give me a second,” he presses the mute button again to speak with you. “Careful with that tongue, sweetpea.” You peer up to him with hooded eyes, attempting a smile while your mouth is busy with his cock. Shit. “Sorry, I’m back.”

“Is everything all right, Nanami-san?”

“Yeah, I just…stubbed my toe on a chair.” Don’t giggle while you’re sucking on him; the vibrations feel way too good on his lower half. “Anyways, please continue...Hnnnn.”

You remove his dick from your cock and suck on the tip hard, Nanami’s free hand coming to your head to inaudibly warn you. You giggle, trailing down kisses until you reach his scrotum, playing with his testes with laps on of the tongue. Nanami’s barely hanging by a thread, even after you suck on one of his balls until it gets inside your mouth.

“—Khhh, haaah, uh-huh…Got it,” he answered aimlessly, knowing damn well he was not paying close attention to his subordinate’s words. The golden-haired man is too entranced with how you’re working on him, massaging his other ball while you kiss and suck the skin off the other. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Well, actually, there are things concerning the Kyoto School that need…” Poor Ijichi, his words drowning out from one ear and flying out to the next. You were clouding Nanami’s judgment effortlessly, returning one hand to jerk him off and your lips taking the tip for him to the back of your throat. Jesus Christ, your speed was increasing, and hold getting sturdier, his balls and shaft overwhelmed with this much enjoyment. Fuck! I’m close; his hips twitch increasingly, and his breathing is shaky.

“Kento,” your voice captures his attention. “Cum of my face, ‘kay?” You titter before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, a sign that you are ready for him. Nanami licks his teeth; you were too much for him.

Your hands irregularly jerk him off, not skipping a bit as you await his release. The golden-headed man bucks into your hands with your tempo, and his white seed spills out onto your face. He painted your face, sliding into your mouth or landing on your forehead and nose. But you voice no complaints, taking it with grace.

“….And that should be all on that matter. Sorry about having to call you after work about this,” Ijichi says while Nanami pants under his breath, his legs quivering through the aftershocks. “But I shall see you tomorrow, Nanami-san.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning to his touch as he caresses your cheek. You suck on his thumb after he wipes the semen that sticks to your lips, and he chortles hoarsely.

“See you tomorrow.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Gojō Satoru ⋮ fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping + pinching) finger-sucking - missionary position - unprotected sex (no release inside, tho) - pet names (baby, cutie, princess) - mention of saliva/spit.

Sweet things were undoubtedly Gojo Satoru’s most favorite thing worldwide.

“Ahhhnn!! Satoruuu, moreee…!”

And you, his sweet little thing, made his teeth rot the most.

If Gojo could get addicted to you, he most certainly would. And trust—he is already.

There are not many people in this world within Gojo’s proximity that he would consider “cute” or “gracious,” especially within his occupation as a jujutsu sorcerer, where hazardous dilemmas and death are nearly daily. But you, his partner, are the pure definition of perfection. He’s smitten, indeed, as you are the most treasured thing in his life with whom he wishes to share good moments and protect within his life.

He couldn’t resist you; if he could break the nation in half for you, he would surely try…However, there are times when he’ll try to break you instead. Why?

“Yeah, cutie, ya like it when my fingers go like this?”

Because you’re adorable—and that includes all sides of you.

Gojo removes his fingers out of your leaking cunt. For the past few minutes, he’s been playing with your folds within the confines of your home. The tall man has been away from you for a while, been itching to touch you—to feel you. That’s why he pulled you in and marched you to your bedroom, kissing you up a storm while unclothing you off your bottoms.

Your figure quakes at the abrupt removal of his digits. “Tahhhh, no!” You whine with scrunched brows. “P-Put ‘em baack!”

“Awww, what’s this?” He tilts his head with a sly smirk; the blindfold hiding the intensity of his gaze doesn’t help. “You like my fingers that much, huh?” A rascally chuckle is caused by how rapidly you nod your head, looking at his hand to see how much of your fluids coats his fingers. “Wow, you’re over here making a mess! Hehe, must feel that good, huh, cupcake?”

“‘Toruu, pleasee…!” You cling to his jacket. “I want them back inside!”

“Ehhhh, but you told me to stop too long ago.” Gojo then takes his fingers to your clitoris. You gasp sharply at the cold, slick-sheeted digits pressing down on your bud, sensitive from the other orgasms prior. “Said that it was too much for you.”

“Mmmm, y-yes, but I am—I was,” you whine at the pinch of your clit. He grinds it with the push and stir of his thumb. “I was…so close!”

He bites his lip; you look too cute when you’re honest, baby. “Well, make up your mind; tell me what you want.”

You gulp as your boyfriend tweaks your pearl, causing quick twitches in your thighs. “P…Please, put your fingers back inside, ‘Toru,” your hips jerk to rub his digits against your vulva and mark more of your essence on him. “I wanna cum on themm…”

Gojo uses his free hand to strip his blindfold off his face, finally letting his royal blue eyes free to view you. “Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers one more time for me?” He teases your entrance with the prints of his middle finger.

Head pounds as you nod your head. “Yess, let me!”

But then, the snow-haired man lifts his eyebrows while straightening up a bit. “You sure? You don’t wanna cum on something else?” He unzips and discards his jacket before unbuttoning his pants. “Something…better?”

Your eyes misty with wanton blink to see what he’s referring to, a silent gasp when you see his erect cock spring out. The curve of his length makes your mouth water, and the precum leaking out of his urethra to the frenulum is breathtaking. You don’t even realize your lips curling into a smile. “Yes, Satoru,” the folds of your labia space apart from spreading the crevice of your ass. “Make me feel better, please?”

Holy fuck, you would be the end of him. Azure eyes narrow, “Such a good princess,” and he coos as he smacks the tip of his dick onto your vagina.

The tip of him taps onto the slit, pushing in with every inhale you take. Your come used as lube makes the introduction accessible, and you squeal once the cockhead makes it inside. As you take Gojo inch by inch, the left curve scrapes your walls, toes curling at the contact. And once he puts all of him inside, you cry at the brush of your cervix.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he coaxes you in hushes, yet he grinds his pelvis down to the hilt. He can’t help it, loving the endearing whines you let out when he touches up on your most delicate parts. “Just let it out, alright?”

He speaks for you as his hips begin to move at a mediocre cadence, not enough time for you to prepare for the onslaught of grazes to your sweet spots and feverish pokes to your womb. “—Nngaah! W-Wait, Sa’oruu; not t’faast—Ahaaa!!” Gojo doesn’t stop, though; he is just constantly snapping his hips with a salacious hum as your walls clamp around the foreign limb ravaging your insides.

Inevitably, you howl with eyes sewn shut as your orgasm comes caving in, your cunt puckering on Gojo’s shaft as you come on him for the third time in a row. He savors the feeling of you tightening around him, thrusting sluggishly to enjoy the moment before he removes to fist himself. Your sticky fluids sheathing his cock collects on his fingers.

“Say ahhh~,” and he brings them to your lips, where you eagerly lather his digits in saliva with your tongue and suck. “Good job, cutie!”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Getō Suguru ⋮ voyeurism (consensual) - masturbation (f! + m! receiving) - sex toy; wand vibrator - squirting - clitoral play - sir kink - pet names (darling, pumpkin, sweetheart) - mention of drool/spit.

He loves watching you—his all-time guilty pleasure.

Geto sits on the armchair situated by the side of the hotel bed, where you lay with your legs spread and your panties rolled up to your thigh.

Lacy strips of material decorate your body, presenting your boyfriend with the newest lingerie you wish to spoil him with. Matching thigh-high stockings suspended by the garters keep the entire look together—a nice catch for violet eyes to consume.

But not as eye-catching as the commotion between your legs: tiny fingers are toying with your vulnerable cunt, sticking the middle one inside with the help of your slick. Pretty moans slip out of your puffy lips as the pace of your hand goes swifter.

You fingering yourself as your boyfriend watches with a glass of wine in one hand? Geto couldn’t be any higher on a cloud than now.

“Mmmm, ahhhhh,” your eyes flicker to where your man sits and observes. “Suguruu…”

“Mmm? Yes, darling?” He takes a sip of his glass. “You look so good, you know that?”

The comment has you giggling with a light breath, swirling your middle finger around. Geto sees you tease your forefinger inside, loving the way your thighs quirk as you push it in. His eyes are honed at how quickly your come soaks whatever comes in contact.

“Must feel good, too.” He inquires with a raised brow, sneaking a hand down his pants to unfasten his belt and slither into the dark to meet a hard boner. “You’ve been at it for five minutes straight like I told you; good girl.”

“So good,” you purr because of the acclaim. “But, it’s not…enough.”

Geto takes another gulp of the red liquor. “And why’s that?”

It doesn’t surprise him when you swig your head around to look at him properly, eyebrows knitted together. “Please, Sugu…”

“Please, what?” He stands up after setting the glass down, bringing his pants down a bit to have his erection breathe before returning it to his fisted grasp. “Can’t know unless you tell me.”

You ask with quivered lips and a soliciting gaze—you know he knows what you’re talking about, just taking pleasure in the circumstances where you have to beg. “Please, I want you to stick it in.”

Lips curl to a smile, stroking his cock faster. “Stick what in, sweetheart?” He loves your back-and-forth game, seeing your posture slipping with every question.

You point to his dick with your toes. “I want you…in me.”

Ah, yes, your reward. As his sweet thing, Geto promises to care for you when you obey him. And he’ll admit you have done your part exceeding well as always: adorning the lingerie set as a treat, pleasuring yourself in front of him, and wetting your fingers and thighs of your fluid. It all makes him so turned on that you deserve to be pampered.

…However, something was still missing. And Geto knows you’re aware of it, too.

“I don’t know,” he plays coy as he mounts on top of the bed to crawl beside you. “You still haven’t done that thing I always like.”

You plead more with watery orbs. “Hmmm…I can’t do it alone; you do it better…” Your fingers leave your aching slit sensitive and damp. “Please, help me.”

“Oh? You want my help?” Geto takes your digits into his mouth to suck them clean, the sight putting your breathing to a halt. “Ask me properly, then I might give you a hand.” Right as he says that, you jolt at the brush of his middle and forefinger against your unattended clitoris.

“…! I-I,” you swallow spit. “I want you to help me—gasp!”

“That’s not how you ask properly, sweetheart.” He scares you a bit with a threatening pinch.

“…Please, sir,” now that’s more like it. “Please make me cum like you always do!”

A proud scoff leaves him. “Thought you’d never ask,” Geto leaves the bed quickly to retrieve something next to the wine glass. He then requests once he proceeds, “Spread your legs.”

You follow his words with haste, distancing your thighs apart for him to position between. Licking your lips as he rests one leg on his shoulder and turns on the item he brought along, whirring vibrations have you bite your bottom lip.

“Ready?” You eagerly nod, and he descends the wand to your vulva. Your frame jolts at the contact of your clit, meeting the shaking toy surface for a flick of a second. You choke on air and Geto chortles. “Ehhh, but you said you were ready?”

“B-But that was a bit intense…!” Tears begin to pool at the corner of your eyes; your nerves heighten to a peak.

“I know,” he brings the want back to your clit. This time, he doesn’t stop at your screams. “That’s the point. You said you wanted my help, right?”

You knew this would happen, him using the vibrating toy so roughly that you can’t voice out your opinions adequately. Fuuuck!! It was too intense how hard he pressed the wand on your sore bud, circling and grinding to the point that your words transformed into incoherent babbles. Geto bends down, the added weight not making it any better for you to squirm away from him and his antics.

And yet…it feels so fucking gooood!! The added pressure hits your spot efficiently with speed and energy, pleasing shocks coursing through your body through every zig-zag motion. You howl when he brings the toy to your labia; the vibrating surface feels way too good that you’re clamping onto a void nonstop. Drool escapes your lips, as do the tears plummeting down hot cheeks.

“Heh, so fucking cute,” Geto comments to you before claiming your tongue to suck on for you to whimper desperately. Spit exchanged with wild tongues, teeth clashing amongst the muffled mewls and moans between the satisfaction. You slurp on his wet muscle in gratitude, head pounding from all the ecstatic commotion occurring.

Geto then flicks the wand up and toy, hitting both your folds and clit simultaneously, and your eyes travel up to your skull, almost choking on his spit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit—you can feel it. And when it hits you, it hits you hard.

As your orgasm comes crashing down, so does the liquid you squirt out from the stimulation of your glands. The secretion goes around with the help of the toy, continuously gliding across, spraying onto your thighs and abdomen. Geto gets caught in the crossfire, the watery substance plastering onto the wand, his hand, forearm, and cock. Not to mention the sheets of the bed underneath you two.

The onyx-haired man smirks between smooches; there it is. His mouth leaves yours, spit connecting the two pairs of lips from the messy make-out session. Purple eyes take a good long look at the entire thing; your fucked out expression stuck with the trembles of your body—and he couldn’t be even more turned on!

“There you go, pumpkin!”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Ryōmen Sukuna ⋮ size difference (true form! kuna) - breast fondling - thigh-riding - anal fingering (f! receiving) - cowgirl position - double penetration; anal & vaginal insertion - asking permission - pet names (little plaything, good girl, pet) - mention of pain.

He smirks. “Enjoying yourself?”

You nod your head with quivers. “You feel so…good, my Lord…”

“Hmph. I can tell, making a mess on my thigh like a real fucktoy.”

Sukuna enjoys your company—a hard thing for many to grasp or comprehend in link with the King of Curses. But yes, he seems to like to have you around him, especially when you’re desperate for him.

You were indeed his most precious thing — a rarity as the cursed man doesn’t have the time nor drive to indulge in such trivial items. Yet you seem to have been the exception for such doctrine. It didn’t happen overnight or months, but a miracle did happen for him to find something – or someone – worthy of his attention when he’s in the mood.

And that’s where you come in, his little cherished plaything summoned to his quarters to save him from boredom.

Sukuna lay on his futon with you atop him, straddling his massive thigh between your legs without your underwear on. You move your hips to and fro, gliding your cunt across his skin and covering him with your come. His lower legs kept to your legs so you don’t run away.

Your lips shudder as you sway. “Hahhh, Lord Sukuna…I–I can’t—“

“Hmm? Speak up.” His lips curl to a deeper, devious sneer. “Can’t what?”

“Nnhhaa…I can’t keep going; I’m too—” You exhale through your mouth as your spine jitters from the slight raise of his thigh. “T’ tender…”

“Oh? Is that supposed to swade me or something?” He raises his sole salmon brow in amusement, and your grip on your legs is tighter. “You stop moving when I say so.”

“Y-Yes, my Lord, but—Taahh…!” His upper left arm grabs for your wrists to keep them on his chest, the tongue from his abdomen lick your elbow. “I’ve been doing this for a while…any more, and I could break.”

His expression remains impassive. “What else am I having you do this for?”

“Mmmm, my Lord, please,” your eyes flutter to his comely face, all four crimson eyes fixed on yours. “I don’t wish to cum on just your thigh. I wish to c—oh God…To cum on your cocks.”

Sukuna scoffs; your meek honesty is a tiny bit reputable. “I don’t recall saying you have a say in where and when you can cum. You seem to enjoy my thigh for this long; you can keep it up.” You weren’t prepared for a hand to sneak up to caress your bum. “I don’t think you’re grateful.”

“B-But, I’ve been so good to you all this time!” Do you dare keep questioning him? You earned yourself a finger pushed inside your ass. You better plead your case incredibly. “I’ve come for you this long with no complaints, and I am honored that you gain pleasure from mine…Yet, I want you to feel the inside,” your ears burn from your confession, yet the truth is all you can say. “Rather than the outside.”

Now, he can’t lie; the way you phrased that did spark his interest way more than it intended. But he hasn’t said anything yet, so you continue begging.

“Please, my Lord,” your hips go faster for your sore folds to indulge in the friction, and the finger in your asshole has you sway even more. “Please,please,pleaseee!! I want you…Want nothing but you…!”

Hmph, so pathetic. Your hopeless pleas have the behemoth’s grin grow broader, the thick digit in your butt pushing in and out to the point of you humming. “What a wailing pet I have to deal with...However, you have been good.”His strong hands grab for you to pull you up closer, your stomach brushing one of the cocks standing erect. “Go on, don’t have me do the job myself.”

A curt nod is given to your master as you raise your lower half and crawl further for it to align where his groin is. Your hand grabs for the dick upfront while Sukuna grasps the one below it, and you slowly drop your lower region until his glans kiss your vulva. Inhales and exhales ease your nerves while you push down on the tip, gasping aloud once your chasm swallows it in as the initial pain diminishes slowly with time.

“Good,” A pleased purr rumbles his chest. “Now for the other,” he brings the other tip to your anus, your job maintaining a calm breathing technique as he pushes himself into you. The sting of something foreign entering lasts for a couple of seconds until the second cockhead makes its way inside your rear.

Your mouth is agape as you allow yourself a few moments for your body to accommodate their girthy lengths before Sukuna playfully smacks your ass to attend to him. And so you do, your ass falling sluggishly as your holes occupy with your master’s shafts, venturing deep inside your channels and rubbing on your walls effortlessly have you whimper.

“Little plaything,” he calls you once your butt lays down on him, rubbing his cheek on yours before licking your ear. He whispers, “What do you say to me after letting you have your way?” His gruff voice, so close to your eardrum, lowered to a hush, has your stomach doing knots.

You reply with a trembly sigh. “Thank you…my King,” You look into his eyes as you express gratitude, and his face comes near to claim your lips.

“Good girl.”

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Fushiguro Tōji ⋮ sloppy kisses/making out - Daddy pink - missionary + mating press positions - clitoral play (tweaking and swiping) - breeding kink - creampies - unprotected sex - pet names (baby, hun, mama) - mention of drool/spit.

“Ahhh, haaaahh, D-Daddy—Mmmph!!”

“I know, baby, I know…Fuck, so nice and tight.”

Toji loves the way you take in his cock. His sweet, little things grit their teeth as he stuffs his entire length into your insides, your gummy walls clenching around the girth, stretching you out to the point of toes curling.

Your back pressed down to the sheets of your shared bed, your legs wrapped around Toji’s waist as he plows into your wet cunt, excess come exiting from the union of your sexes stains not only the sheets but the base of his cock. The room is a bit dark yet warm, with only light from the television basking on your naked bodies. Sounds of plap, plap, fill the silence during your intimacy.

His scarred lips latch onto yours, steamy kisses dwelling into a plane of passion by the second with every mewl he takes from your breath. Stuffing his tongue into your mouth overwhelms your senses, orally stimulating your drive to euphoria. And to his pleasure, you suck on his wet muscle, rewarding you with more spasmodic ruts to your vagina.

Toji relishes the feeling of him wanting him, your body reacting to his every touch and soft caress while his lower half puts you through the most nerve-wracking pleasure. He then cruises a hand down to where your clitoris is, tweezing it with his forefinger and thumb. And the scream he drinks is just delectable.

“—Mmaahh! Ohhhhfuuuck,” spit from the kiss trails from your puffy lips to your chin. “T’ muuuch, Daddyyy!! I’m t’ fuuull…!!”

“Yeah? ’S too much?” He repeats with a chuckle, licking your cheek. “But y’re doin’ so well, hun, takin’ my dick like a good girl.” More swipes on your clit have your arms wrapping around his neck to his amusement. “Hnnnng…Wringin’ me out like crazy…”

You wail to his ear as he presses his forefinger on your vulnerable bud. “Ohhhh, feel shoo goood…Gonna cum.”

Words that have Toji’s emerald eyes darken licentiously. “What’s that, mama?” He rubs his hot cheek to yours; he heard what you said perfectly—but it’s satisfying to listen to your shy self repeat yourself.

“D-Daddyyy, pleaseee—Mmmfff!” An abrupt thrust makes you shrill. “Please make me cummm…!”

“Nnnmm! Shiiit, don’t do that,” he hisses at the clasp of your walls on his girth. “Gonna make me knock ya up…”

You whine. Your hand brushes through his nape onto his raven hair. “Give it to me; I want you to fill me up!”

He scoffs. “Yeah? Want Daddy to bust my load inside again,” he grinds his pelvis down to rub on your G-spot. “Gonna be good, and let me fill ya up til’ y’re all fat with a baby?”

“Yessss, Daddy, please, pleaseee” You kiss and suck the skin of his neck, and he whirs. “Make me all fhat with cum, please! I wanna cum—Mmmm!— and have yer baby!!”

“Heh, fuck, y’re driving me crazy…Stay still, baby,” he coos before arranging upright to unscrew your legs, bringing them to your chest before he cages you back with his added weight and pounds into your swollen cunt relentlessly. You howl and scream at the increased cadence, more come spilling down the crevice of your ass with every push of his cock, and his balls smacking your taint frequently.

“Ohhhh!! NnnooohmyGod!!” You throw your head back to the pillow, unable to do anything else but take him, forcing you into submission. The angle aids deeper penetration, having your head pound harder and your eyes stuck to the ceiling. “Yesssss…Harder, Daddy, please go hardeeer!!”

“Haaahh, I’m tryin’, mama,” he grits his teeth, pistoning his cock frantically to have you speaking in tongues. The sounds of skin slapping get louder and louder, furthering the heat exchanged and the erotic atmosphere.

“Ohhhfuckin’shiiiiit…!! I’m gonna cum,” scrapes to your cervix push you to the edge, threatening to shut down entirely as this keeps going on. “I’m cumming, I’m…Ohoooo!”

Black bangs stick to his sweaty forehead, “Me too, hun…! ‘Bout to bust my—Lllmmm!!” Jesus, your tight walls have him in a chokehold, his abs tensing as the inevitable takes place.

Your walls flutter on his cock as your climax comes first to lock you down, shrieking as the tremors rock you to your core. Toji falls second, releasing his semen into you once again and filling you up with his white seed with a groan. He pulls you in for another kiss, saliva traversing through tongues, dancing with each other with shared moans until both bodies relax after their respective highs.

The cool air brings you two back to reality, Toji dismissing his lips away from you to lick the saliva while withdrawing his length from your inner texture and watching the pool of essence exert your hole and slide down to the messy sheets. The sight makes the older man snicker, licking his scar in contentment as you murmur breathless ‘thank you’s for the reward.

“Y’re welcome, mama.”

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mephisto-reporting · 5 months ago

Text

Silk, Satin and Sensual

Premise: Headcanons on his preferences for lingerie and his reaction when he sees you in them. Based on this request. Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are in a relationship. This is suggestive. Please do not interact if you are a minor. Caleb version is out!!. If you wanted to be added to my taglist, please DM, ask or comment :D Content warning: Suggestive. MNDI.

XAVIER

Xavier has a thing for soft, celestial tones like white, cream, silvers and muted golds. He’s drawn to fabrics that shimmer faintly, almost like starlight against your skin. He has a thing for delicate patterns, like lacework.

Sheer materials like mesh and chiffon drive him wild, especially if they reveal just enough to leave him craving more. He prefers the balance of teasing and revealing, where the fabric hints at your curves without fully exposing them.

He’s absolutely obsessed with your thighs and prefers lingerie that accentuates them. Garter belts, thigh-high stockings, and intricate lace shorts are his kryptonite.

If you have small celestial accents like tiny golden stars or moon charms hanging from the garters… good fucking luck. You are not walking the next day.

He has an unapologetic habit of tearing your lingerie when he loses control, so he’s constantly replacing your wardrobe. His explanation? “It’s not my fault they’re made so fragile. I’ll get you something sturdier—next time.”

Once the damage is done and your new lingerie is in shreds, Xavier looks annoyingly unbothered. He’ll casually toss the ruined piece aside and murmur, “Guess I’ll have to buy you another.”

He’ll commission a lingerie set made of delicate ivory lace with gold threads woven into it, shaped to mimic constellations. He’ll surprise you with thigh-high stockings that have faint, shimmering patterns running up the sides. These are always paired with garter belts because he loves tugging on them when he is intimate with you.

He’ll leave the box on your bed, wrapped in soft cream paper with a gold ribbon. Inside, there’s always a handwritten note in his steady handwriting. “For you. You’re too beautiful not to be dressed like the stars themselves.”

His reactions:

The moment he sees you in lingerie, his carefully composed demeanor melts away, replaced by an intense, almost predatory focus. His eyes lock onto your thighs, and his voice becomes a low murmur laced with want. He is the definition of: his eyes darkened.

Xavier likes the idea that these pieces are chosen specifically for his eyes. If anyone else saw you in them, even accidentally, it would ignite a streak of jealousy.

If you walk past him too many times, deliberately flaunting the look, he’ll finally snap. One moment, you’re teasing him; the next, you’re backed against the wall with his hands tracing the garter straps. “Do you want me to tear this off?” he’ll ask, his voice soft but carrying that dangerous edge. Spoiler: He’s already decided the answer.

ZAYNE

Zayne prefers earthy tones—rich browns, deep greens, warm ambers, and muted burgundies. These hues remind him of natural beauty, grounding yet alluring. He loves subtle details like lace trim, delicate straps that crisscross your back, or a ribbon that ties just above your hips—small elements that add to the allure.

Zayne is drawn to pieces that accentuate your waist. Corset-style lingerie, high-waisted panties, or teddies with cinched designs are his favorites. He admires the way they create an hourglass effect, appreciating your silhouette.

He has a thing for materials that feel good to the touch: silky satins, fine lace, and soft mesh. The tactile experience is as important to him as the visual.

Zayne has impeccable taste, selecting pieces that balance seduction with sophistication. Think satin teddies with plunging necklines or lace bodysuits with subtle, sheer paneling. He gravitates toward lingerie sets that emphasize your natural beauty rather than overwhelming it—clean lines, elegant accents, and designs that celebrate your form.

When Zayne gifts you lingerie, he makes it an intimate experience. He’ll lay the gift on the bed, wrapped in tissue paper with a single dried flower,something earthy and subtle, like a sprig of lavender or rosemary. His note is direct: “For when you’re ready to let me admire you properly.”

Zayne picks quality over quantity. He’d rather gift you one stunning, well-made piece than several forgettable ones. His selections are designed to last—not that he always gives them the chance to.

His gaze never wavers. When you wear lingerie, Zayne’s eyes lock on yours before slowly traveling down your body, making you feel like the most captivating thing in the world.

There’s no ripping it off, but it won’t take long before he’s slipping the fabric off. He’s not gentle, but he’s not reckless either. There’s a certain hunger in how he undresses you.

His Reaction:

When you walk into the room wearing one of his carefully chosen pieces, Zayne’s reaction is immediate. His calm is replaced by a sharp intake of breath, his eyes trailing over you with an intensity that makes the air feel heavier.

Zayne’s fingers brush over the fabric with deliberate slowness, his palms lingering against the soft satin at your hips. “Feels even better than I imagined,” he murmurs, his lips quirking into a heated smirk. “But I think it’d feel better on the floor.”

If you tease him, letting a strap fall off your shoulder or adjusting the lace just so—Zayne’s control begins to crack. His hands are on you instantly, his voice dropping to a growl. “You like testing me, don’t you? Keep it up, and you’ll see what happens.”

RAFAYEL

Rafayel is drawn to soft, pastel shade like gentle blues, lavender, and delicate purples. He prefers lingerie that’s sweet and soft, evoking a sense of innocence while still being sensual.

He gravitates towards cuter lingerie like bralette sets with flowing chiffon accents, babydolls with sheer overlays, or high-waisted lingerie shorts. He likes pieces that don’t reveal too much but are so alluring that he cannot keep his eyes off you.

Rafayel is obsessed with fine details such as silver waistbands that drape lightly like jewelry, chokers that gleam with tiny pearls, delicate chain straps on your bra, tiny dangling gemstones, or trims that sparkle subtly in the light.

Sheer robes, flowing fabrics, and fluttering hems draw his gaze as they cling to your skin over your lingerie like water waves. If you are wearing a lingerie, fresh out of the shower with your hair still wet, it is game over for this man.

Rafayel treats every moment with you in lingerie as sacred. He doesn’t rush; instead, he takes his time, savoring every detail like an artist admiring their finest work

Rafayel is the kind of person who doesn’t just buy off the shelf. He’ll have something specially commissioned for you, likely a set of lingerie that reflects your personality and his artistic sensibilities. His commission might even include small charms that are Lemuria inspired.

Rafayel, though loving, is bashful when it comes to gifting lingerie. He would likely have the lingerie sent to you without a grand reveal, perhaps bundled with other gifts like chocolates, perfume, scarves that might distract from his true intentions. His note will be brief, almost casual: “Some pieces I thought you'd appreciate, seeing as you're always so fashionable.”

His Reaction:

The first time you step out wearing one of his custom sets, a soft lavender bralette with delicate gold chain accents and a matching choker—Rafayel freezes. Rafayel can’t stop staring, though he tries to look away, his hand rising to cover his mouth as his blush deepens. “I-I didn’t think it would suit you this perfectly…” he stammers, his gaze flicking back to you despite himself.

“I… I didn’t mean for it to be so… um… revealing,” he stammers, eyes lingering on the intricate lace and the subtle gleam of the small jewels. “But… you look… divine.” When Rafayel touches the fabric, his fingers tremble against your skin. He’s so gentle, almost reverently so, as though touching you in this way is an act of worship.

"It’s like you’re wearing my art… and I can’t stop admiring it." His gaze will flicker between your face and the lingerie, doing his best to hold himself together. “Why are you doing this to me?” he’ll murmur with desire. “I just want to keep you here... like this... for as long as possible.” he whispers, voice barely audible, as though if he spoke louder, he might break the spell.

SYLUS

Sylus gravitates toward bold, classic colors like deep blacks, rich reds, and occasionally luxurious whites, midnight blues or dark emerald greens. These colors resonate with him. He appreciates the elegance of these shades, as they exude sophistication and bold sensuality.

He’s a silk and satin man through and through. These fabrics are smooth, luxurious, and irresistible to his touch. He loves how they glide over your skin and how they feel beneath his fingertips.

He loves classic, timeless lingerie: lacy bras with garter belts, high-cut panties that highlight your legs, and elegant teddies that hug every curve. Think luxury brands and couture pieces that scream sensuality.

Occasionally, Sylus surprises you with bolder, risqué styles: Cage-style bras with open backs, strappy bodysuits that playfully expose just enough skin, lingerie with sheer panels, leaving little to the imagination.

He doesn’t tear or rush; instead, he carefully folds each piece, placing it aside after everything is said and done. “I’ll want to see this on you again.” he explains with a sly smirk

Sylus doesn’t stop at gifting you a single set. Every outfit in your closet has a matching pair of lingerie. You’ll find lingerie for every occasion. Sylus alwayssurprise you with a box containing lingerie hidden among other extravagant gifts—fine jewelry, luxurious robes, or even a custom-made vanity to store your collection: “Maybe my luck is not be so bad if I am the only man who gets to see you in these, sweetie.”

For Sylus, lingerie isn’t just for the bedroom. He loves seeing you lounge in one of his tailored sets, reclining on his sofa as you read or listen to music together. Sylus is content to let his hands roam over the satin, enjoying the feel of it warmed by your skin. “Stay like this,” he’ll say softly, his voice a mix of command and yearning. “I want to keep you close.”

True to his nature, Sylus has a habit of keeping little trophies. He has a drawer in one of his private residences dedicated to these keepsakes as a reminder of your shared moments. If you ever catch him in the act of placing something there, he’ll simply shrug with a sly grin. “Can you blame me? I keep what’s mine.”

His Reaction:

When you step into the room wearing something he’s chosen for you, Sylus’ composed exterior falters, just slightly. His gaze darkens, and his lips curl into a small, satisfied smirk. He’ll take a slow step toward you, one hand tucked casually in his pocket, the other reaching out to trail a finger down the silk, letting it rest against your hip.

Without hesitation, he’ll scoop you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly to where he wants you—be it the bedroom, his grand leather chair in the study, or even the chaise lounge in front of the fireplace. “I’m not letting you out of my sight when you like this.”

Sylus never tears your lingerie—he unwraps you like the most precious gift, his hands moving with reverent care. “You deserve to be savored, not rushed.” he whispers, his gaze locked on you. He’ll seat you on his lap or lay you down, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate movements along the fabric. The lingerie is not just for his pleasure, it is for yours as well.

CALEB

Caleb prefers lingerie that’s just for him—sexy yet teasing, revealing enough to drive him mad but covering just enough to make him desperate.

Caleb gravitates toward sleek, understated sensuality. He favors deep, alluring colors like navy, black, and dark burgundy, shades that hint at elegance but still feel undeniably intimate. However, he has a soft spot for delicate lilacs and soft purples, especially when they complement your skin.

Minimal but devastatingly effective designs have him on edge. Thin straps barely holding everything together, high-cut panties that accentuate your legs, delicate bralettes that are more about aesthetics than practicality. He loves when the details like lace appliques or ribbon ties demand his attention. Anything he can tug, unravel, or ruin.

Let’s be real. Caleb is not a man who delicately undresses you. He’s been patient his entire life, watching, waiting, restraining himself. The moment you’re finally his? He’s not taking his time. “You knew what would happen when you put this on, didn’t you?” His voice is low, rough—before the sound of tearing lace fills the room.

If you ever wonder why pieces of your lingerie mysteriously disappear, don’t. Caleb takes them when you’re not looking, slipping them into his uniform pockets or luggage when he’s preparing for deployment. He’s possessive, obsessive, and when he’s away on fleet missions, he wants something of yours to keep with him. A delicate lace garter? A silk chemise you once wore to bed? He’ll tuck them away like trophies, running his fingers over them late at night, mind filled with thoughts of you.

He’s a man who gives gifts with purpose. He knows exactly what you want, and he knows what he wants. If he’s getting you that plushie you mentioned offhandedly, or the book you’ve been dying to read, you will find a carefully wrapped lingerie set alongside it. Every gift is a two-for-one deal—his way of spoiling you while satisfying his own desires. Tucked inside, there’s always a note with cheeky messages: "Making dinner tonight. But if you wear this, you'll be the dessert."

Caleb is the picture of patience in public. He knows what you’re wearing underneath your dress—he saw you put it on, watched every slow movement in the mirror. But he doesn’t let it show. Not a single twitch of his lips, not a single shift in his stance. He leans down, lips brushing your ear, his voice impossibly calm: “You’re going to regret this later.”

There is one thing that drives him past the point of no return— his clothes on you. Seeing you in his oversized shirt is one thing, but if he catches you lounging in his boxers? He’s done. His fingers dig into the waistband, his voice a rough whisper against your ear. “You must really like testing me, huh?” His breath is hot against your neck, his hands already tugging the waistband lower. Any plans you had for the day? Gone.

His Reaction:

When you step into the room, wearing something meant just for him, his expression darkens immediately. There’s a brief flicker of something feral in his purple eyes—desire, possessiveness, raw hunger. He doesn’t say a word at first, just stands there, his breath held. “You expect me to behave after this?” His patience is frayed, and it's clear he’s barely holding onto his composure.

Try to tease him, make him work for it and he’ll let you, for a moment. He enjoys the chase, the way you think you’re in control. But the moment he decides he’s had enough? You’re done for. One second, he’s watching you with quiet intensity, and the next, you’re beneath him, your wrists pinned, your breath stolen by the sheer force of his presence.

When he touches you, it’s as if he can’t get enough—his fingers move with purpose, reverence, but there’s an undeniable urgency. “You’re mine. Always.” And with that, his lips crash against yours, taking what’s his. There’s no gentle teasing here—this is pure, unfiltered desire. It’s clear there’s no going back now. You’ve pushed him past the point of no return. The soft, teasing lace may have been your choice—but now everything that happens from there is his.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

taglist: @cordidy

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