This fic just received a 5 hour standing ovation from me in my room
Me and The Devil | modern day sorcerer!sukuna x sorcerer!reader
summary: when you first meet him, you have no idea what his technique is. all you know is that he's this big, beefy guy covered in tattoos—an absolute unit. he's the cockiest out of all of special grade sorcerers though, so it has to be something good. based off this blurb
content & warnings: AFAB reader, graphic depictions of violence, profanity, explicit smut, sukuna abuses his curse technique (he transforms into his true form self mid-fuck), p in v sex, hair pulling, creampie
w/c: 5.6k
a/n: i think this just might be my most annoying sukuna yet LOL. anyways, this was just an idea i had, based in a world where gege either has a heart or just doesn't exist. enjoy sukuna being a little slut!!
The jujutsu world sucked, but transferring from the Kyoto branch to the Tokyo branch made it suck a little less. Now that you think about it, all of the special grade sorcerers are based in Tokyo.
Two of them are actually teachers—Gojo and Geto.
It wasn’t an easy road getting here though, Gakuganji was not happy when you turned in the transfer papers, and made it known during those last two weeks through the missions you were assigned.
You were a grade 1, so you obviously had the ability to take on tougher cases when need be, but he made your life a living hell by giving you missions back to back– from 8:00 am to 8:00 pm, you worked.
You’d think an old man who’s covered in piercings and listens to black sabbath would be chill, but he’s a petty bitch, just like the rest of the highers up.
Even the students here are nicer and it’s probably because Principal Yaga was actually a good person, which is rare in this industry. It makes your life easier with the upcoming promotions. You offered to take a couple students under your wing, in turn you will be recommending them.
You say taking them under your wing lightly. In reality, you’re just making them do your missions for you. If they for any reason need help– which they shouldn’t– then you’ll step in to exorcise the curse yourself.
“Ready to go Megumi?” You ask as he walks up to you. You were taking him with you to a mission that was out of town, it was around 2 hours away via train ride.
“Yeah.” He gruffly responds, as angsty as ever. You have no idea how he’s gotten along with Gojo all these years, they’re the complete opposites. Not that you’re complaining, he’s a smart kid, he won’t be asking you any dumb questions on the trip there.
“Wait!” You both hear someone call out from a good distance. From the way they yelped it out, you can only guess it’s Ijichi.
You both stop and turn around. “We were ju–”
Megumi cuts you off, “WHAT?!” He yells at the man who’s already struggling to catch up, the scowl on his face continuing to grow. He’s spent a majority of his childhood having to wait on his benefactor that was voluntarily late for everything—in turn, he hates wasting time.
You had to hold back a laugh, he didn’t have to be that rude. You’re guessing it's learned behavior from Gojo. Ijichi runs a little faster, you have no idea how he’d let a teenager just bully him like that, but you guess it’s from the years of a certain sorcerer breaking down his spirit.
“I just received some new information about the mission you’re headed to.” He says, out of breath, trying his best not to keel over.
“Is it being given to someone else?” You ask.
“Kind of.” He says as he stands upright, heart rate finally settled. “One of the curses is actually special grade– we decided that you two could stay on it, just as long as a special grade sorcerer went with you. That way, Megumi can have two recommendations and get that promotion.”
“Well that's good. Who’s going with us then.”
“The only special grade sorcerer available right now is Sukun–”
“Oh great.” You scoff.
“Is.. there a problem with that?” Ijichi nearly squeaks out, he’s not used to getting an attitude from you, you’re usually nice to him.
“No.” You sigh, not sounding very convincing to him or the younger sorcerer. “When is he coming?”
“He said he was on his way, he’ll be here in about 15 to 20 minutes. He also said to meet him at the front of the school.”
“Kay.” You cross your arms and turn to walk towards the stairs at the entrance. “Let’s go Megumi.” You order the kid.
Usually he’d show some sort of pushback from being told around like that, but nothing scared him more than a woman in a bad mood, so he quietly followed behind you.
Sukuna is the last person you wanted to go on this mission with. You had hoped Yuki would’ve been the one to come along– luck has never been on your side though. Truth be told, you didn’t even know he was a sorcerer, let alone a special grade when you first met him.
It may have been a little prejudiced of you to immediately brush off the fact that he could’ve been a part of the jujutsu world based on the way he dressed, but can anyone blame you? He dresses like a bum– not even bothering to wear normal clothes, let alone jujutsu uniforms! Every single time you’ve seen him, he’s in a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt.
On top of that, he’s an arrogant asshole, he thinks he’s the shit, as if he was gods gift to earth. You still don’t even know what his technique is, everyone just says he’s “a beast”, whatever the hell that means.
You would ask, but the last thing you want is to have a conversation with him, it’ll probably just end with him asking you what your bra size is, because he’s a fucking pervert. And you fully believe that from all the encounters you’ve had with him so far– the last one being just downright embarrassing.
The worst part about it was you didn’t even do anything. You had just gotten back from a full day of exorcising curses, turning in your paperwork, more than ready to go home afterwards. You were exhausted, yet you still had to wait for Principal Yaga to finish up an interview he was having with a potential new student.
So there you were in the common area, staring off into space, because you were tired– then you hear the voice that you’ve grown to feel agitation towards whenever it infiltrates your ears.
“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”
You almost immediately snap out of it. “Huh?”
“I said my eyes are up here,” Sukuna points at them as he repeats himself. “You’ve been staring at my ass for the past five minutes– a lil’ perverted don’t you think?”
“No I wasn’t.” You grimace at his accusation.
For someone like Sukuna, any sort of reaction makes him want to tease you even more. “What were you staring at then?”
“I wasn’t staring at anything, I just dozed off.” You try to explain yourself. He believes you, but he’s bored and you’re fun to pick on.
He nods as if he understands your struggles, then continues to add to them. “You took one look at it and started daydreaming, huh? How flattering”
“Nobody’s staring at your fucking ass!” You snap at him and he looks rather pleased with himself. Geto just laughs, knowing damn well that it just encourages him to keep going.
Your heart drops when he starts walking towards you, grinning like an idiot. “Nope.” You say out loud, getting up from your seat.
“Whad’ya mean no? C'mere.” He chuckles, getting closer. “I know you want some of this.” He says, holding his arms out, shamelessly offering himself to you.
“You’re so fucking delusional, Sukuna.” You scoff, starting to walk away from him. “Stay away from me.”
That all happened a month ago, and is still fresh in your memory. You’ve been dreading the thought of seeing him again, and now you’re supposed to spend the entire day with him. You really hated being a sorcerer sometimes.
At the 17 minute mark, he pulls up in a black BMW. It does not surprise you one bit, he makes a shit ton of money.
Without a word, you and Megumi get in. You were hoping he’d sit in the front seat, but he for some reason decides to actually be respectful towards adults today, and sits in the back. There’s already a smile on his face when you open the door. It’s not sincere, it’s antagonizing and you want to smack it off of him.
“Always a pleasure seeing you, sweetheart.” He drawls out, ignoring the teen in the back.
“Wish I could say the same,” you mumble back, buckling your seatbelt.
Megumi apprehensively looks back and forth between you two from the backseat. The tension between you both is a thousand times worse than the tension between Gojo and Utahime.
“Still butthurt over last time?” He asks, picking up where he left off last time in terms of annoying the shit out of you.
“What happened last time?” Megumi cuts in. For once you wish he’d mind his business and go on his phone. Nobara was right, he is a little gossiper.
“I caught her st–”
“Nothing, Megumi.” You stop the man from finishing that sentence. You reach in your bag and take out a small pack of rice crackers and hand them to him, Gojo said they were his favorite snack. “Here, it’s gonna be a long ride, just relax until then.”
“Got any more for me?” Sukuna asks.
You ignore his question and answer with a question that was actually relevant. “You have the address right?”
“Of course.” He says, pulling it up on the gps.
“Great.” You let out a sigh, allowing your body to relax despite how much the special grade asshole triggers your fight or flight response. Thank god for earphones, you popped them in before he could find another way to mentally torture you.
The only brightside to having him drive you both to the site is that it took 45 minutes instead of 2 hours, freeing up a couple hours of your day. In this line of work, there’s nothing you appreciate more than extra time.
“Alright, we're here.” You hear Sukuna announce through the earbuds, prompting you to take them out.
You look out the window to look at the old, abandoned hospital. You had your work cut out for you today, not only is there a special grade curse in there, but it’s riddled with weaker ones ranging between grades 1-3.
The three of you step out of the car and scan the outside of the building, it’s one of the more eerie places sorcerers get sent to in terms of missions. You think about your younger, first-year self and how terrified she would’ve been of this place— thank god you’re not that girl anymore.
Sukuna takes the initiative to cast a veil before leading you two to the closest place you could get to hell on earth. He’s not fazed by it, he walks into the eroded building without a care in the world, he’s taken missions like this a million times by now.
Megumi knows the drill by now– weaker curses attack first, so you and Sukuna stand back while you watch him exorcise all of them one by one. He tries to start small talk with you, to which you pretend not to hear him. When he raises his voice in order for you to hear him, you tell him you’re trying to watch Megumi because you are his temporary guardian for the day.
It’s whatever, he’ll get his chance to bother you again, eventually.
30 minutes in, you’re fighting alongside Megumi because the stronger curses had finally started to reveal themselves. All while Sukuna continues to stay back and “observe”. Apparently he’s “reserving his energy” for when the big one pops up, but truth be told, he thinks he’s way too good to fight the more menial curses, leaving you and the boy to it.
Neither of you were injured or showing signs of struggles anyways, he tells himself that you both had it all under control.
Curses stop popping up… eventually. Both you and Megumi looked battered– clothes dirtied, a couple bruises here and there, out of breath because at one point they literally wouldn’t stop coming at you.
And then there’s Sukuna– completely unscathed. Now that you think about it, the curses completely avoided him, you wonder why.
“It’s here but it doesn’t wanna show itself.” He says, referring to the last one. “Guess I’m just gonna have to pull it out of hiding.”
At this point, the three of you were in the back of the building, it allows Sukuna to completely flatten the place with just a flick of the wrist. You were about to finally ask what his technique was, but you don’t get the chance because an absolute behemoth of a curse pops up.
The thing is huge, you have no idea how it was able to hide within the old hospital, it was about ¼ the size of what the building used to be before Sukuna demolished it.
“Step back.” He looks over his shoulder and grins, “I got this.” He says, lazily walking up to the thing.
You don't miss the way the curse takes a step back, as if it were reluctant to fight him. It made you think of when the curses from earlier were avoiding him and going straight to you and Megumi. It brings you to the realization that they were all afraid of him, including this one.
“Why is he taking his shirt off?” You ask Megumi, who’s not fazed one bit by Sukuna’s rather bizarre action.
“Just wait.” Megumi mumbles, studying the man intently—trying to see if he can learn something from him. Meanwhile there’s you, who is also studying Sukuna, but your attention’s more so on how godly his physique is.
As if he couldn’t be anymore striking looks wise– his chest and back were even more defined than you’d imagined them to be, both adorned with tattoos. He even has nipple piercings. Some people just had it all, and Sukuna was unfortunately one of them.
Your attention’s taken off of his nipple piercings when he gets into a defensive stance and does some weird hand sign—something similar to Megumi whenever he summons his shikigami. The ground beneath him begins to thrum, flames start to spark all around him.
So his technique’s been fire this whole time? You think he's going to lay out his domain, but it's something much more interesting.
His body changes– taking on a monstrous form. A second pair of arms emerge from the flames, an extra pair of eyes burned through his face. He looks like something that came straight out of hell, but why's he kinda…
“Holy fuck.” You mumble under your breath. No wonder why he dresses the way he does, it finally clicks.
“Yeah.” The teen agrees with you. There’s a reason why he didn’t protest like he usually would when Ijichi said Sukuna was coming along, getting a front row seat to watch him fighting was rare. “He’s the only one that rivals Gojo-sensei.”
You notice his bottom eye glancing at you right before charging at the curse, you swore the curse let out a little yelp too. You almost felt sorry for the thing, it literally tried to run from him, but barely got the chance to turn around before Sukuna stuck all four of his hands into it and ripped it in half.
It was gruesome, you never want to hear the noise it made ever again– but that was a lot to ask for in your line of work.
In the end, it took him 2.5 seconds to exorcise it– you don’t know if you should be impressed or annoyed. You all could’ve been out of here a long time ago had he helped from the beginning.
You continue to watch him, he’s just staring at his blood stained arms and hands before he burns them off– cleaning himself with fire. Once he was done with that, he comes striding back with the usual smug look on his face.
“You enjoy the show?” He asks.
Megumi immediately says yes, like a fucking fan. A part of you almost feels betrayed since he doesn’t realize how much time was wasted from him not helping earlier.
You scoff. “If it was that easy for you, why couldn’t you just help us out earlier?!” You immediately grill him and he just snickers like a fucking asshole.
“It’s a group mission, sweetheart.” He reminds you as he walks up, still in his monstrous form. “You two handle the curses in your grade, I handle the one in mine.” He flashes a smile, even his teeth are sharper.
He’s breathtaking.
Not that you’d ever admit that.
“Whatever. You can turn back now.” You avert your eyes from him as you let him know. Why is it getting hot all of the sudden?
“What's the rush for?” He teasingly asks. “Does this form make you nervous? Don’t worry sweetheart, I don’t bite.”
“I’m sure you do with those chompers.” You mumble in return, still refusing to directly look at him.
“Ooof. You wound me baby.” He says, rubbing his ridiculously chiseled chest as he takes a step closer towards you, well aware of how overwhelming his presence can be in this form.
“Okay ew.” Megumi cuts in, he's had enough of whatever the hell this is. “Can you two wait until I’m not here before you start fucking flirting with each other?”
“We weren’t fl–”
Sukuna cuts you off, “Sure thing.”
Megumi mumbles something under his breath about how disgusting you two are, you don't really catch it though. You were more focused on calming down, which was hard because you could feel Sukuna still looking at you as if he were going to tear you apart next.
His eyes linger on you a little longer before taking his attention off of you completely.
Where did his t-shirt even go?
He flung it to the side, it couldn’t have gone too far. It takes him a couple minutes before he finally finds it– turning back into his original form and putting it back on.
The car ride back was filled with Megumi asking him a bunch of questions while he gladly answered them. You had your ear phones in again, pretending like you weren’t listening, but you were, in hopes of maybe learning something.
To your surprise, you actually do. Your curse technique was air manipulation, you’re pretty sure you can come up with your own version of cleave if you amplified it.
You grudgingly admit to yourself that time really does fly when one’s having fun, because before you knew it, he had pulled up in front of the staircase that led to the school. Megumi was quick to get out, because let’s face it, he is still 15 and more than ready to relax and play video games– or do whatever he likes to do in his free time.
You’re also more than ready to relax, but Sukuna locks the doors right when you reach for the handle.
“What are you doing?”
“I was thinking,” he leans over the console. “You and I started off on the wrong foot.”
“And who’s fault is that?” You brows knit together.
“No ones,” he so innocently says. “I just never knew that you’d take first impressions that seriously.”
“You made fun of me for a whole 20 minutes after finding out what my technique was.” You remind him.
He clicks his tongue in response, completely gaslighting you over what had happened. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“You started calling me Aang and The Last Airbender!” You yell and he bursts out laughing because he still finds it funny. “It’s not fucking funny Sukuna that was my first week of working here.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry–” He holds his hands up in defense. “I couldn’t fuckin’ help it, it was too easy.” He continues to laugh, not showing an ounce of regret.
“And then you continue to straight up harass me every time you see me!” You continue, hoping he’d get why you’re not the biggest fan of his.
“I don’t harass you,” he continues to deny, what he would consider, accusations from you. “You just held a grudge from that day and never gave me another chance after that.”
“Yeah, because you’re a dick. You wouldn’t even help out during the mission.”
“Let me make it up to you then. How about let’s go grab some drinks or something while I’m still in town, I’ll even pay.” He offers, acting almost as if he were doing you a favor.
“You wanna grab drinks?”
“Mhm.”
“Like a date?”
“Exactly,” he nods. “You catch on pretty quick.”
You try your best not to laugh in his face, he really doesn’t even try to hide how arrogant he is. You’re about to say no, you really should say no, but then you remember the nipple piercings and the way his back muscles flexed when walking up to the curse earlier.
“I’ll think about it.”
You still hated him for the way he treated you during your previous encounters, but there was nothing wrong with leaving the door open.
—
When you said you’d “think about it”, Sukuna already knew you weren’t going to be reaching out to him anytime soon.
Which is why he didn’t immediately return the bracelet that you dropped at the curse site. He saw it glimmering in the rubble and immediately knew that was going to be his golden ticket to your heart… and other parts of you.
He waited 3 days, for no reason other than to let the thought of him simmer in your mind, maybe hate him a little less. But he was leaving for another overseas mission in 3 days, he’ll be gone for two weeks– surely you’d want your bracelet back before then, right?
He pulls out his phone and dials the number he harassed Ijichi for, watching the bracelet dangle from his hold as he patiently waits for you to pick up. He also got a peak of your schedule this week (thanks Ijichi), you shouldn’t be busy at all right now.
After the third ring, you finally pick up. “Hello?”
“Yo, it’s Sukuna. You left your bracelet in my car.” He cuts to chase, slightly twisting the truth while he does so.
“Oh… thanks?” You say apprehensively, thanking him felt weird. “You can just drop it off at the school tomorrow.”
“No need, I'm outside your house.” He shamelessly reveals and your heart drops to your ass.
“Wh– how do you know where I live? How did you even get my number?” You frantically ask. He imagines you panicking over his surprise visit and it brings him a sick sense of satisfaction.
Another unhinged sentence flows out of his mouth as if it were normal, “You really think Ijichi would say no to me if I asked for your information?” He chuckles. You can hear him shut the car door through the phone. “Gonna let me in or what?”
“Fine.” You huff out before hanging up the phone, there was no point in staying on the phone with him if you were going to see him in a second. You hop off the couch and take a deep breath.
It’s just Sukuna, no reason to be nervous, you hate him, remember? You wipe your hands against your shorts– no clue as to why they clammed up all the sudden– before turning the door knob.
You nearly startle out of your skin, he is standing way too close to the fucking door and he is so much taller than you remember. Even as he slouches against the doorframe, he is still towering over you, you can also smell the Dior Sauvage radiating off his skin. Even when he does nothing, he's still entirely too much for you.
“Fuckin’ finally–” He groans and lets himself in. “It’s hot as fuck out there.” He states the obvious, you’ve had the AC blasting all day. You watch him in disbelief as he makes himself comfortable in your home, going straight to your fridge to see if there is anything for him to drink.
He’s worse than Gojo. You guess that’s just a quirk that comes with being a Special Grade Sorcerer– they demand space rather than worry about taking up too much of it.
He pulls out a beer, “Can I have this?”
“Surprised you’re asking when you didn’t even ask if you can look in the fridge.”
“Good point.” He says before effortlessly popping the cap off the bottle using his teeth, you continue to stare at him in disbelief. “Gawkin’ at me again.” He points out and takes a sip of his (your) beer.
“Sorry, I don’t know how to exactly act when a coworker, who’s barely a coworker, barges into my home and raids my fridge.” You nearly pout as you cross your arms.
He smiles and takes one more sip before setting it down. “So sensitive.”
You roll your eyes at his lack of care. “Can I have my bracelet back now?”
“Oh– yeah.” He acts as if he almost forgot, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out the dainty gold chain that has a pink butterfly on it. “The clasp was broken, so I fixed it.”
“Really?” You take it from him and inspect it. Looks like he actually did, the clasp was slightly darker than the rest of the chain, no one would notice though. “Wow, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He looks way too proud of himself. “Consider it my apology for that one time.”
“It wasn’t just one time.” You kindly remind him.
“No need to bring up all the other times,” he uses the same fake-pleasant tone as you. He takes the bracelet from you and clasps it around your wrist.
“Such a gentleman, Sukuna.”
“I’m a feminist too.” He adds, flashing that million dollar smile of his.
“Okay, cut the shit.” You stop him from saying anything else. “What do you want?”
—
“Taking me so fucking good baby– y’know how long I’ve wanted to see you like this?”
You’re not exactly sure what it was that he said that got you in this position, or if it was even words themselves that led to this.
Maybe it was the way he looked at you.
Or the way he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you in, slipping his tongue in your mouth the moment his lips touched yours.
All you know is he promised you’d enjoy yourself somewhere along the way and now he has you in the world's meanest arch— ass hiked up nice and high, pulling you back to meet each and every one of his powerful thrusts. He digs his nails into your hips while you grip the sheets, holding on for dear life as he delivers the backshots he promised.
You thought he’d be one of those guys that would try to stay quiet in bed, he’s not. He lets out the most deep and sinful moans each time you tighten around his unbelievably thick cock, he tells you how much of a good girl you are, he chants your name like it’s a fucking prayer.
“Kuna– w-wait,” you whine out.
“What’s wrong?” He asks mockingly. He grabs you by your hair and pulls you up, not letting up on his harsh thrusts. “Want me to stop?”
“N-no, I–” You falter, not knowing exactly what it is that you actually want. He wraps his free hand around your neck and pounds into you even harder.
“That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” He mutters in you ear, you can feel him smirking against you. “Just be a good girl and let go for me, yeah?”
You pathetically nod because anything else would’ve come out as a strangled moan– all that can be heard right now is harsh slaps and wet squelches while he continues to drive his cock into you. You’re pretty sure you came for the 4th time just a couple seconds ago and he thinks so too, drawing a chuckle out of him.
He knew you’d like his dick.
“Gonna let me cum in you? Fuuuck—want me to fill you up?” He groans, thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you shamelessly beg in between moans. “Fuck yes– give it to me, fill me up Kuna.”
“Fuck– alright,” he sputters out with a smile, shaking his head– not expecting you to start begging like that, at all.
He lets go of your hair and wraps both arms around your waist, doubling over while keeping up the sloppy pace. His breath tickles against your ear as his groans become needier, whinier. He tries his best not to bite down when he buries his face into the crook of your neck– not quite sure if you’re into that kinda shit.
Maybe next time.
“Fuck!” He slams a hand down onto the bed, holding you both up while he starts pumping you full of his cum.
It so much, it’s begins to seep out of you before he’s even done cumming and he keeps fucking you well after the fact– making your toes curl, crying out his name as he overstimulates you both.
He doesn’t come to a full stop and takes his time to come down from his high, slowly rocking back and forth inside you.
“You good?” He softly murmurs in your ear, slowly pulling out of you– keeping in mind that you might be a little sensitive right now.
“Yeah.” You sigh, trying to catch your breath, collapsing face down on the bed.
He chuckles, “Don’t tap out just yet– m' not done with ya.”
“What do you mea–” Your questions cut off from a familiar thrumming noise, making your words get caught in your throat.
You reluctantly turn around to find him in his… other form, with a smug grin on his face. You swear you feel a part of your soul leave your body when the mouth appears on his stomach. “Don’t look so scared, sweetheart.” He laughs at the visible shock on your face. “Lookin’ at me like I’m some kinda monster.”
He makes you wrap your hands around his neck while one pair of his arms holds on to your waist. The other pair grab the backs of your knees and push them up to your chest. You didn’t think he could reach inside of you any deeper, but he does as he continues to fuck you without a care in the world.
You feel everything, every inch, every vein.
The grip he has your waist and legs is strong while he uses you like his own personal fuck toy, continuously slamming you down on all 10 inches of him. While you’re a crying mess, he’s in absolute heaven– moaning your name, not shutting up over how good you feel wrapped around him.
The whole thing’s just insane, he drops your body down on to his length when he fucks up into you, the tongue on his stomach laps at your clit. You were a fool to think he was nasty before—having him use your body like this, giving you inescapable pleasure, just feels downright sinful.
It almost feels wrong, but the thought slowly gets swept away each time his fat tip slides against your sweet spot, each time that hot, wet tongue swipes against your clit.
He loves the way you clench around him when his extra tongue flicks harshly against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the way you stare at it in disbelief– nothing but concern on your face, yet your moans say otherwise.
“Feelin’ good baby?” He asks.
“Mhm,” you frantically nod, you couldn’t even hide it if you tried. “Is this even l-legal?”
“I have no idea.” He laughs through the loud slaps and wet squelches that filled the room.
He fucks you for hours, in multiple positions.
Positions you didn’t even know were possible, but he made happen with the extra limbs he had.
Sukuna’s just as ruthless in bed as he is in a battle, he was ripping you apart like he did with that curse, just in a different way.
You don’t even remember passing out, let alone what time you fell asleep. The last thing you remember was him praising you for squirting on him for the nth time– he wore you the fuck out, broke you in like a brand new pair of shoes.
Your usual alarm goes off at 6:00 am, like it does on every work day. You let out a sigh and shove your face in the pillow, trying to drown out the noise of the repetitive beeping. It’s become easy to ignore after all these years.
What’s hard to ignore is the foreign grumbling you hear right next to you, making your head pop up and eyes shoot open.
You’re immediately met with a messy head of pink hair, sprawled over your bed– taking up more than half of it, as if it were his. The blankets are just barely covering him, you can see his ass crack peeking through the sheets.
“Turn that shit off.” He boyishly complains with a fucking frown on his face.
You immediately get up, reach over his body, and slam the alarm clock off. “Get up.” You snap at him.
He apprehensively opens one eye, trying to gauge how annoyed you are at him for spending the night. You can’t possibly be mad at him for this, he was tired too!
“That’s no way to treat a guest.” He says in return, pulling you in to lay on top of him and closing his eyes again.
“It is when the said guest overstays their welcome.” You hiss back, trying to get up but the hold he has on you is just too strong.
“So mean.” He complains. “Thought I fucked the attitude outta’ ya last night.”
You groan at his laxness, saying something along the lines of how fucking irritating he was. He doesn’t seem to care and even goes as far as to almost falling asleep again, but you keep him from doing so by slapping his chest.
“Let go, I have work in two hours!” You began to whine at the big brute of a man.
“I doubt you can even walk right now.” He stubbornly responds.
“Yes I can.”
“Alright.” He lets go of you. “Let’s see it then.”
You already struggle to push yourself off of him and he catches you by your arm when you almost fall off the bed. “Told you so.”
“Last night was such a fucking mistake.” You began to say to yourself, it sounded like a whimper to Sukuna and he snickers to himself.
“Fuckin’ drama queen.” He continues to laugh and shakes his head. “How about this– I’ll heal you and help you out with your missions today.”
“You know how to use RCT?” You ask, interest now piqued.
“Of course I do.” He scoffs. “Fuck I look like to you?”
You hold back on saying something mean, because you’d really like to get healed right now without having to tell Shoko how you ended up like this. “Alright, fine. But just a heads up, Inumaki’s going to be with me for the day.”
He groans into the pillow, obviously not happy with that piece of information. “Do you have an iPad?”
“...No. Why?”
“I don’t understand anything that kid fuckin’ says.” He complains.
“You’ll be fine.” You pat his shoulder. “Now get up and heal me already. We have a long day ahead of us.”
notes: fun fact! i was listening to the kyoto x im god mashup while writing this. i had so much fun making this version of him. i feel like if he had been born in the same era as the rest and was (somewhat) nurtured as a child, he’d have so much fun with his life LOL. just completely unserious, making fun of people all the time, and just overall living his best, slutty life.
anyways, i may or may not turn this into a series 🫣 idk, we’ll see. i’d have to drop one of my current ones though.
All rights reserved © 2024 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.
Giggling bucky got ME blushing too... Damn.
MASTERLIST
Characters: Bucky x reader
Summary: After you spend the night at Bucky’s for the first time, you drop a nickname that turns the ex Winter Soldier into a blushing and stuttering mess.
Warnings: Fluff to a shameless extent, blushy!bucky, implied smut but nothing major
Words: 904 (short but sweet bc writers block is a biotch)
A/N: I’m getting a toothache from all of the sweetness. I’ve always pictured Bucky using petnames so often with his SO that when they call him one back he gets all cute and shy about it because he’s not used to it.
Keep reading
I wish someone would love me like demon!bucky loves Angel!reader
For millions of years, Y/N has served heaven with all she has. So when the slightest mistake is all it takes to cast her out, she feels her soul shatter completely.
Bucky has never stuck around a lot in hell. He prefers Earth to be his main area of operation. Spreading chaos among the puny human minds is his idea of fun. And he enjoys every second of it.
What happens when he finds an angel fallen from grace, unaware of herself, broken to pieces, and desperate to go back home?
“What would you feel like?” she breathed. “If everything you’d believed yourself to be was taken away from you?”
He didn’t reply. Simply because he didn’t know how to.
Pairing: Demon!Bucky x Angel!Reader
Warnings: Trauma, depression, PTSD. Mentions of blood. Religious inaccuracy (it’s fiction don’t get offended), smut, NSFW.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
MY JAW DROPPED TO HELLLL
I’m nervous to ask this, but was Choso using the conditioner on his pubes??
You should be scared…because it wasn’t what he was doing with the conditioner but rather to the bottle containing conditioner……
I need to save this entire paragraph
No lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, gently, rough, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, pancake, throat fucking, till my insides are white, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, till my dna is 50% cum, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, on the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering. eye rolling. hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blowing, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, lustful, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocius, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity detying, nail biting, sweaty, teet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell dissolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly feeling, ruining me,corrupting me, choking me, biting me, tying me and handcuffing me taking him for 69 times in a hundred positions 'cause never back down never what??? Never give up!!! And I'm not giving up to screw me 'till my mind becomes nothing but subservient to him and I pass out.
I like who you can immediate tell who is who even without their model numbers
the RK Brothers
Megumi isn't one for public displays of affection, which is why you jolt a little when he suddenly winds an arm around your waist and pulls you so, so close to him.
"You alright?" you ask him, threading your fingers through his hand that tugs at your waist.
He squeezes, then makes a little sound deep in his throat. When you look at him, his pretty mouth is set in a line, and he's staring daggers across the room.
You laugh a little– nervous, a bit incredulous, watching the blush climb to the tips of his ears– then follow his line of sight to where a group of guys stands. They're sizing up Megumi, one of them smiling at you. When he meets Megumi's eyes, the smile seems to melt from his lips and he turns his back.
Oh.
Megumi's lips press against your jaw. You lift your chin and angle your body into his. "Did you think they were–"
"Checking you out? Yeah," he says, nudging your cheek with his nose.
You hadn't known him to be jealous before, and if you're honest with yourself, it's both flattering and maybe a little bit concerning. You aren't one to be possessed and controlled, but something about him protecting you from being objectified makes your chest swell with pride. It feels good to be wanted so intensely by someone.
So you take his face between your palms and make him look you in the eye. "I'm yours, Megumi."
His eyes flit back to the group. "Just making sure they know that."
You push a little harder, smashing his cheeks until his lips pucker. "Do you know it?"
He searches your face for a moment, his expression unreadable, if not a bit serious. After a moment, he visibly relaxes, then leaves a featherlight kiss on your mouth.
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."
His Second Chance
Everything was groggy when you finally came back, a sting in your neck making it painful to move.
Ignoring the pain the best you could, you looked around, only to see you were back in Miles' room.
But, not really. This wasn't your world.
Once it hit that you didn't wake up back at home, in bed with your Miles you sat up quickly, trying to move out of bed only to see your hands were tied and your ankles.
They weren't tied harshly, like the one who tied them with care, careful not to hurt you even when you moved around but strong enough you couldn't get out.
"What- what the fuck…" you muttered, trying to pull your hands free or get the knots undone before you heard a chair squeak and you froze.
"Don't worry about it. Can't get 'em off. Stop trying."
You turned your head quickly to Miles' chair, the back turned to you as a familiar deep and stoic voice spoke.
"Won't know if I don't try." You quipped back, trying to make whatever light of the situation you could, at least try to get you and Miles out alive.
And you could swear, you heard almost a chuckle come from behind that chair, quickly ended by the one sitting in it.
"...Why are you here?" He asked, quickly getting to the point as you scoffed.
"You're the one holding us here? We just wanna get home." You put it bluntly, going back to working on your toes as he wasn't looking.
"No." You could hear him say, the chair turning around as you worked faster before he saw.
"I mean, why are you here?" He asked, demanding as the chair finally turned.
You couldn't help but freeze as you saw his face.
It was Miles.
Your Miles.
But, not really. This Miles was visibly different and you could tell. This Miles was cold. This Miles just stared at you instead of smiling like yours did.
He was not your Miles.
Your Miles was knocked out somewhere, and needed you to get out of here.
"How are you here when you're not even supposed to be breathing?" This Miles brought you back from your shock, watching the confusion and realization sink in.
This was his world. The world where you guys disrupted the canon. The one with no Spider-Man.
So now you were forced to look at his suit, a suit similar to one Uncle Aaron wore when he was dubbed the Prowler.
"I'm not…we're not supposed to be here." You muttered, looking at everything and how similar it was to your Miles' room, down to every last picture of both of you in every same place.
"But you are." Miles bluntly reiterated, staring at you, his eyes going over and over your face like he was trying to find any similarities and any differences, he found all of one.
"You're the Prowler…? You can't be- you can't be the Prowler." You denied, stumbling over your words out of shock and shaking your head.
"Wanna know how I became the Prowler?" Miles somehow was amused by your shock and confusion, standing up to walk to you.
You couldn't find it in yourself to back away as he leaned down to you on the bed, his face close to yours as he stared into you.
"Because my dad died. And you died. Know what it's like to watch your girlfriend crushed to death with your dad on TV?" Miles muttered, his gaze never leaving you.
"And finding your body under all that?" Miles kept going, watching every reaction you did, your eyes darting around as you took in the new information.
"Now you're back…" Miles muttered, a small smirk can't help but to make its way onto his lips as he kept thinking of all the possibilities, the second chance he had now in his grip.
"Looking just as pretty as the day you left." Miles complimented, his smirk only growing as he used his fingers to pull your chin up to look at him.
"You think I'm gonna let that go?" Miles chuckled, amused at how you wanted to just leave, because he wasn't gonna let you.
"Miles. I'm…I'm not your (Name). I'm sure she loved you- but I'm not her." You tried to explain, shaking your head.
"But you are in some multiverse way. Right?" Miles laid the sarcasm on, his smirk slowly leaving as he heard how much you denied.
"Please. Just let us go home. I'm sure I loved you as much as you did me here, but you're not my Miles and I'm not your (Name)." You shook your head, a plea to understand.
"So please, let us go home." You begged one more last time as Miles just now stared at you, face blank the more you went on about leaving him.
Again.
"...How come he gets to have you and everything while I'm stuck here with what could've been avoided?" Miles scoffed, his hand making its way onto your cheek, feeling your skin he hadn't felt in so long.
"It doesn't work like that." Miles muttered, staring into your eyes, his hand lingering before he pulled away, turning his back to you and to the door.
"Miles! Please, just let us go! I- we don't belong here!" You yelled after him, desperate for him to understand as he activated his mask.
"You did once before. You'll do it again...But he won't."
Miles out on his glove, his mask over his face as your pleas fell onto deaf ears as he walked away.
He wasn't losing his second chance.
Not to that Miles, not to anyone.
You weren't leaving him again.
Fantasy right here
word count ✎ 5.4k
tropes ✎ avenger!reader / enemies to lovers / smut
warnings ✎ masturbation, dom/sub, nipple play, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, peter parker doesn’t just have bde he has a big dick, handjob, voice kink, grinding, cowgirl, multiple orgasms
summary ✎ on a mission with the avengers, the team unexpectedly crashes at a motel and you get stuck sharing a bed with peter, who you can’t stand. to make matters worse, you’re ovulating and can’t sleep without touching yourself.
a/n ✎ hey besties, i’m reposting because it didn’t show up in the tags yesterday :(( like i said yesterday, i’ve been dying to write and post fics for a long time but i was too insecure and scared to try. part of the reason why i was inspired to make a new blog and give it a try is because of the great writers i followed so i want to thank @duskholland @worldoftom @venomsilk @vendettaparker @userholland @t-lostinworlds for their beautiful writings that motivated me so much when i need it. you’re all icons ♡
You were in hell.
No, really. You weren’t much of a religious woman but right now, you felt like there was some deity out there who had decided to curse you with the worst luck possible. Here you were, doing a good deed by helping free people being held hostage by a Hydra subdivision, and you were rewarded by Tong making you share a room in a dusty, cramped motel with another Avenger you couldn’t stand. Just your luck, there was only one bed and, after almost killing each other to see who would take the floor, you both gave in.
And now you were lying next to the guy, sharing his body heat, whilst your own body was thrumming with arousal, at the height of ovulation. And Peter, deep asleep as he was, smelt fucking heavenly, like your very own personal temptation.
There was no chance of you sleeping. None. Not with your thighs rubbing together as you lay on your side. Not with the way Peter was shifting behind you. You closed your eyes and prayed. Whatever you had done, you would undo it. You didn’t care. You would do whatever it took. Just take away the need, and you would serve soup at a homeless shelter for a month if it meant being able to get some rest.
You squeezed your eyes shut, taking deep breaths. A minute passed. Then another. Another. You listened to your heartbeat and Peter’s even breathing.
Cursing silently, you shuffled away from him. “Peter,” you whispered.
No response.
Spider boy was dead to the world.
You carefully slipped one hand down to unbutton your jeans, and made as little movement as possible to work your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. Pausing, waiting. No response from your companion, so you pushed a little further, stretching your underwear. The noise of the slick between your thighs was audible and you winced, waiting for something, anything. Peter was still asleep, so you swiped your fingers up your slit. Shaking at the abrupt touch, you forced down a gasp, and drew your hand up just a little to stroke in minute circles against your clit.
Trying to keep yourself still was difficult. You needed more friction, more speed, but your arm shook and so did your hip, tugging at the blanket thrown over the both of you. Your other hand slipped over your mouth, pressing down hard to muffle the soft whining that tried to escape you. And when Peter shifted behind you with a soft noise, you ripped your hand out of your pants, swallowing.
You paused, listening, waiting, wondering if he was going to stir and catch you in the act. The sound of his breathing as it evened out seemed so loud in the otherwise silent room. It must have been several minutes before you dared to slip your fingers back to where they were. You bit down on your lip, rubbing gently again, keeping your arm so tight to your body that your muscles started to ache. But it was worth it – the pleasure was slowly growing between your thighs, and the fabric of your panties muffled what must have been an impressive wet noise.
Peter arched, groaning, and rolled onto his back. Freezing, you yanked your hand out again, placing it on your stomach. Other than a long, deep exhale, he didn’t move, but now his arm was braced against your back, the warmth of his skin bleeding through your thin t-shirt. You pressed your lips together, and then you shuffled a little further away. The blanket slid up, just about covering part of you, and cool air wafted against you. Gritting your teeth against the sudden cold, you took a deep breath, then slid your hand back down once more. Just one orgasm. Just one. Then you could sleep.
You wriggled your panties down into your pants, fingers going straight to your clit. You needed to make this quick and quiet. So you moved in fast little circles, your hand over your mouth again as you tried to stop your hips riding your hand they way they seemed to be trying to. The wet noise was almost audible now, and your cheeks burnt with embarrassment. If Peter woke up right now—
Oh god, he was a fucking coworker you didn’t like, and here you were touching yourself whilst he slept beside you. And yet you didn’t stop, pressing your head into one of the pillows beneath you that Peter had brought along for the mission. Bad idea. He had apparently used it before, and it smelt of him, masculine and arousing. The scent seemed to drop straight to where your fingers were stroking, and you whimpered.
Peter stirred.
You froze. Fuck, fuck—
Nothing.
You almost growled. It was like he was unwittingly edging you like this, interrupting you before you could reach that edge. God. What you wouldn’t give for him to just fucking slide into you, right now. His fingers, his dick, whatever he was willing to spare for you. You needed it.
Wetting your fingers with your slick again, you returned to touching yourself, panting softly into your hand. You couldn’t keep doing this. You were going to go insane. The need throbbed beneath your fingers, like an ache that wouldn’t go away, and you moved your hand to bury your face in the pillow, sneaking your fingers up to play with your nipple. Anything for more stimulation, for more touch, for more.
Your thighs trembled, and you fought to keep them from moving too much, to give yourself just enough space to touch without broadcasting to your sleeping companion that you were trying to cum with him lying next to you like this. Your breathing came sharply into the pillow as the heat coiled beneath your fingers and began to grow.
Peter rolled onto his side once more, chest towards your back, and you bit down a whimpered curse as you stilled. A shiver rushed through you, and you wanted to scream.
A low chuckle filled the air, curving down your spine like a warm touch. Your eyes shot wide open.
“You’re the least subtle person I know, Y/N,” Peter murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.
That heat between your thighs throbbed again. “You were awake,” you panted.
“Yeah sweetheart, I was awake the moment you said my name,” he told you. “But you didn’t say it again, so I thought I’d wait and see what you wanted. And let me tell you, I wasn’t disappointed in the slightest to find out.”
You stilled. “I—I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to—“
“I’m not mad, Y/N,” he said softly. “Hell, I was waiting for you to ask me for a hand.”
Your mouth went dry and you immediately found yourself wondering what Peter’s big fingers would feel like between your thighs, working your through that urge. “You,” you swallowed, “you’re…ok with…me…”
“Y/N,” his voice was breathy, “Just tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”
You felt hot. “I just…I need…something.”
“How about we get your clothes off and I start you off with my fingers?” Peter suggested gently. “Then maybe after that you might be able to think clearer.”
Warm fingers wrapped around your wrist, and you watched as Peter eased your fingers out of your pants. Warm golden light filled the space when he switched on his lamp, and he let go of your wrist to hook his fingers into one of the belt loops on your jeans, tugging you back under the blanket so that your back was pressed against the firm slope of his chest. Your ass met his hips, and oh, ok, ok.
Peter tugged at your pants, working them down to your knees. Your thighs were wet, and you bit your lip as he pulled them up to slide your jeans over your feet. There was a soft sound as they were tossed with their bags, and then Peter’s hands were at the hem of your shirt, stripping that off. You were quickly left in just your bra.
“I’m going to pull the blanket down, ok?” Peter asked.
You nodded. “Sure.”
Peter folded the blanket over, baring your torso, and you arched to let him unhook your bra and slide it off you. Your nipples were immediately obvious, but you didn’t have time to cover yourself before one hand was cupping a breast, the other tossing your bra to join the growing pile of clothes. The big, warm hands groped at you gently, thumbs pebbling the stiff nipples, and your hips bucked. Your ass rocked against his erection.
Peter rolled you onto your back, and knelt up over you. His head immediately dipped to your breast, and his now free hand slipped between your thighs. You almost choked on your moan. His fingers were big, and rough, and they rubbed gently against your clit with just enough friction to have you almost sobbing at the touch.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, and ran his tongue over your nipple.
You squeaked, grabbing hold of the blanket, and Peter reached down to guide your hand to his shoulders gently as he stroked a little faster.
“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart,” he added. “Must hurt where my fingers are, huh?”
“God,” you gasped, “yeah, it hurts…”
Peter gently probed at your slit with a finger. “I can fix that.”
“Please,” was the only thing you said.
If this were any other time, you would be more coherent, more sexy, more verbal, but Peter slipped a finger into you and you threw your head back and moaned. His thumb came to rest on your clit and began to rub, hard and fast. Tremors rocked your body at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, and Peter leaned over you, his mouth on your nipple, one hand resting on your head as his finger fucked you. The wet noise of that combined with the wet noise of his tongue, and you gripped his t-shirt tight, your hips bucking desperately into his hand.
Peter brushed another finger along your slit, and slowed his hand down, gently working it into you. You whined, another tremor rocking you, and you tried to relax. Peter’s thumb kept rubbing at your nub. Your nails dug into him. Peter grunted softly, and when he had gently spread you open for him, he sped his hand up once more, angling his fingers to—
You came with a cry, clamping down on his fingers and wriggling your hips desperately as the sudden orgasm washed over you. Holy shit. Holy shit. You weren’t the most experienced woman in the Avengers, sure, but coming that quick, that hard—? You could hear yourself whining as Peter worked you through it, all the while his lips sucked at your nipple and his thumb rubbed at your clit until your muscles felt like water.
Your hips quivered as he kept stroking, the sudden electric overstimulation pulling a groan from you. Peter nodded wordlessly and slipped his fingers out of you. Laying back, you watched as he raised his hand to his mouth and began to lick his fingers clean. Oh fuck. Oh, fuck. He kept those big brown eyes on yours as he did so.
“Is,” you swallowed, your lips trembling, “this your wicked plan to have your way with me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter teased, leaning over you. “I’m just doing you a favour while you’re suffering.”
You rolled your eyes. “Sure, sure, you’re totally,” your words caught in your throat as his hips slotted between your thighs, “free of ulterior motives.”
Two strong arms came down either side of your head as Peter leaned closer, the warmth of his defined abs separated from your own by the old white t shirt he wore. Fuck, he was broad. You had always wondered what the hell that spider bite did to him to make him that big. And yet he didn’t scare you. Sure, you’d seen superheroes and mutants and super soldiers before, but a boy like Peter who’s your age, a boy as powerful and relentless as him, there should’ve been something stressing you about him. Especially since neither of you like the other and are always fighting even during missions, driving Tony and Steve crazy. Though you had to admit, you probably would have been just as turned on by him if he was scary.
So you had a thing for putting yourself in danger…
“Well, that depends,” he murmured. “Are you feeling better?”
“…what happens if I say no?” You asked.
Peter grinned. “I have a couple ways of dealing with that.”
You blinked. “…yeah? Does one of them involve needing protection?”
“Probably.” Peter looked at his bag, then at you. “But if it helps, I’m clean, and since my spider-bite, I don’t even know if I have a chance of knocking anyone up.”
Still, you watched him reach over into his bag, and he pulled a little foil packet out of one of the pockets, handing it to you. His hips pressed against yours as he did so, and if he was trying to hint at something or if it was a genuine mistake, well – you neither knew nor cared, because you could feel his cock pulsing through his jeans. You couldn’t believe Peter Parker had a big dick.
“Your call,” he said gently.
You blinked. “…what’s the thing that doesn’t involve needing protection? Just…so I know.” Jesus, there was no way that thing was gonna fit in you.
“I mean you might have noticed I’m a pretty talkative guy and I like to run my mouth,” Peter said.
Your brow arched. “Are you being delicate with me? Right now?”
Peter gazed at you. “Not a fan of delicate? How about I just offer to eat you out then.”
You swallowed, nodding as your breathing wavered a little. “That…that works,” you agreed.
“Glad to hear it.”
Peter’s head immediately ducked, and you watched, squirming a little, as his lips pressed to your ribcage. The slide of his skin tickled yours as he slowly kissed your stomach, then your hipbones, and then two fingers were spreading your thighs wider, and his tongue licked a long, broad stripe up from the base of your slit to your nub.
“Ohmyfuckinggod,” You gasped out as his nose was pressed directly against your clit. His lips surrounded it, sucking.
“Hard and fast or do you want a bit more to build you up?” Peter asked, his voice muffled.
“Whatever means you don’t fucking stoP!” You yelped. “Oh fuck, don’t—don’t be a dick about this!”
“Yes ma’am,” Peter chuckled.
One hand slung over your belly, holding you against his mouth, as the other cupped your breast, gently squeezing, playing with the nipple. Your hands clung to Peter’s head, your nails digging into the scalp. Peter purred pleasantly, the vibrations hitting your clit and jolting your hips into his mouth.
You abandoned holding his hair, rocking desperately against his mouth as the man between your thighs—oh god what was he doing with his tongue, fuck yes—ate you out like you were his last meal. You slung your thighs over his shoulders, your heels digging into his muscular back as you thumped your fists against the lumpy mattress beneath you, sucking in heavy breaths.
Your back arched as he abandoned pinning you down to grab both breasts, his thumbs teasing and tugging at your nipples. You watched him play whenever your eyes could meet his, looking at the mouth and the pink flash of tongue and always those big brown irises, looking at you like he could give you head blindfolded.
Oh my god maybe he could.
Nails dragged over your ribs, down your belly, before fingertips ran over the scratches and back up to play with your breasts again.
“Peter,” you felt your stomach swoop, “Peter, fuck, oh my god, fuckfuckfuckfuck—”
Both your hands clapped over your mouth as he pinched gently at the stiff peaks of your breasts, and you came with a muffled scream, your hips riding his mouth frantically. He just pulled you closer, let his lips rub against the sensitive nub of your clit, of your folds, and shook his head to work that friction until you were sobbing beneath his tongue.
You twitched beneath him, your skin oversensitive to even the gentlest brush, and Peter let your whimper under him like that for a good few seconds as his tongue lapped gently to bring you down from your orgasm. Slumping limp against the bedding, you panted sharply, whining when the bastard kissed at your thigh, scratching you. A thumb teased your nipple. You slapped his hand away, and all he did was chuckle.
“God you’re cute when you’re coming,” Peter murmured, and damn him if that didn’t make you throb. You’d barely recovered from your last orgasm, you didn’t need to want another one.
“Shut up,” you panted.
He was watching you the whole time as he wiped your slick off his chin, somehow managing to look innocent like he hadn’t just had you screaming into your own hand, and slid down onto the mattress to lie next to you. He didn’t speak, just waited.
That throbbing didn’t go away.
You looked at the little foil packet. Then you looked over at Peter, and one hand reached for the button on his jeans. He didn’t help or hinder you, just let you unzip him, tug down the hem of his jeans and push your fingers past his black boxers.
Yeah, he was about as big as you thought he was.
You felt yourself throb again. Well, if all else failed…
“Is that gonna fit?” you heard yourself ask.
Peter threw back his head and laughed. “Fuck, that’s a question I like hearing,” he admitted. “It should do, never had a problem with it before.”
You swallowed, and Peter arched up to let you pull his jeans down until his boxers were visible. Reaching in, you freed his cock from his boxers, and ran your fingers over it. Peter moaned softly.
“You often get asked if it’ll fit?” You asked.
Peter reached over, his fingers slipping beneath your chin. “Y/N. You don’t have to.”
Your brow furrowed. “I never back down from a challenge. You know this.”
“I don’t want you hurting yourself because you’ve got something to prove,” Peter said softly.
You shot him a grin. “Worried you won’t last, Spider-Man?”
You barely saw his hand grab your waist before you were being tugged into his lap and Peter was sitting up, shucking his shirt off. “My dick is a one and done offer, but remember what I just did to you with my mouth and hands,” he purred. “You’re practically in heat so I need to make sure you’re completely satisfied. And I’ll take as long as I need.”
You exhaled heavily. “You always this talkative?” you croaked.
Peter kicked off his jeans and moved you to straddle his waist as he tugged his boxers down. You felt his cock just about pressing against your clit, still erect enough to be able to do so.
“So,” Peter’s voice cut through your thoughts, “you want the condom?”
You shook your head. “Nah.”
He nodded. “Ok. So, what’s your favourite position?”
“Uh,” you paused, “I—I don’t know, I haven’t exactly done all that much.”
Peter nodded. “Stay in my lap then, it’ll make it easier for you to control things like that.”
How could he say this in such a blasé way? It was like he was discussing the weather. You just nodded, watching as he sat back, and then you clambered onto him. Your eyes found his cock, and then your hands, wrapping around him and rubbing gently. The man beneath you moaned, brown eyes disappearing briefly as they shut.
“Move at your own pace,” he said softly, and lay down, his hands running up your belly to cup your breasts.
Your lashes fluttered as your wrist jerked, moving slowly up and down his cock. Shuffling forward a little, you braced the tip of him against your folds, wetting him. His tongue flicked out to lick his lip, and his thumbs gently circled your nipples as you lowered yourself. The slightly burn of the stretch was more from your lack of action than lack of preparation, and you kept it slow, letting yourself adjust as the first inch filled you. A soft moan filled the room, and you shut your eyes.
“You ok?”
He was watching you when you opened your eyes, hips dropping a little further. “Yeah,” you breathed, grasping his forearms as the next inch slipped in. Another moan, louder this time, escaped you. His eyes were fixed on you, gauging your every reaction, checking for pain, for nervousness. You let a little more of him fill you. “You gone all shy, Parker?” you added.
His brow rose. “You’ve got half of my dick in you and you think I’m shy all of a sudden?”
You spluttered, pausing. “You’re not talking,” you pointed out.
Peter grinned at that. “You want me to talk?”
Fuck. You’d been caught. “It’s just weird you’re not running your mouth, that’s all.”
Peter’s eyes were fixed on where you were slowly slipping more of him into you. “That’s what you’re telling yourself, huh? Whilst you’re naked and sinking down into my lap? After I just made you cum twice?”
You stuck your tongue out at him, and Peter reached up to drag your head forward so that his mouth pressed against yours. Heat surged through your body, and you returned the kiss eagerly as your ass met his lap, legs draped either side of him. Both hands came back to your breasts, palms rubbing against your nipples, and you braced your hands on his chest as your back arched. Your hips rolled a little, working gently back and forth on him. A low groan buzzed against your lips.
“All yours, Y/N,” Peter murmured softly, and nipped at your lower lip.
“You’re not gonna help?” you teased.
His eyes glinted. “Later. When you ask me to.”
As you used his chest to lean up and start to rock, you had to wonder what he meant by that. But it didn’t take you long to stop caring about that once you began moving your hips.
Your eyes closed, and you began to roll, back and forth, the pressure of him filling you sating some of that irritating need that had been plaguing you all damn day. And for all the thickness of him, you were wet, and there was no trouble letting him work in and out of you. The rough pads of his thumbs on your nipples sent little flecks of heat to your core as you rode him, and he seemed content to let you do what you liked without much other than a few soft groans.
“S-so.” You opened your eyes and your mouth went dry at the sight of the pale grey eyes gazing up at you in curiosity. “W-what? What’s the look for?”
“You’re cute,” Peter told you casually, and his thumb slid down between your thighs.
You bowed as he began to rub at your clit, and now his hips started to oh so slowly thrust up into you. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he kept it languid and casual, like it was no big deal that there was a woman on top of him with his dick in her.
Fuck. Maybe this was no big deal.
“Penny for your thoughts, Y/N,” Peter drawled. “You ok?”
You nodded. “Been a while.”
His thumb pressed a little harder and you whined. Licking your lips, you arched and started to move a little faster in his lap, breath catching.
“You’re quiet,” you muttered.
“Y/N,” Peter grinned, sounding genuinely amused, “are you saying you like the sound of my voice?”
Your cheeks burnt. “I’ve heard worse,” you muttered.
Peter snorted, and bucked his hips a little harder, his large hand palming your breast. “So you want me to talk to you while you ride me, is that it?”
“Mmm, maybe,” you whispered.
He smirked. “Sure. I can do that.”
Bracing yourself on his chest again, you sat up and began to bounce on him, a soft gasp escaping you. Peter’s breath came gentle but sharper, and the smirk wavered just a little.
“How long have you wanted to fuck me, Y/N?” he asked.
You rolled your eyes even as a soft wave of heat rolled over you. “Not answering that!”
“That,” he exhaled, “is code for ‘since I met you’ isn’t it?”
Groaning, you nevertheless sped up as the touch of his thumb started to work you slowly up, pleasure building gently. “Shhh and let me, mm, do this,” you complained.
Peter just laughed, the sound breathless and punctuated by sharp pants. “Hey, you asked me to talk,” he reminded you.
“Regretting it,” you panted.
There was a wet noise coming from between your thighs, and Peter’s hips rocked a little as your nails dug into his skin, the wiry hairs that covered his chest brushing against your fingers. Your eyes met his for a moment, and when he ran his tongue over his teeth, all you could think of was how he had reduced you to a mess with just his tongue. Shivering, your eyes closed, a bolt of heat pulsing around where he filled your.
“So should I shut up?” he breathed.
You groaned as you sped up, chasing that coiling heat. “F-fuck, just d-don’t stop!”
“No?”
His thumb slowed down just a little, enough to be noticeable, and you keened, your body moving frantically against his to make up for the loss of sensation.
“Fuck you,” you groaned. It wouldn’t be long. Your body was tensing, expectant of the relief.
“That what you’re into?” Peter’s thumb pressed harder all of a sudden, moving faster. “You like thinking, fuck, thinking ahh- about me taking- taking it away, Y/N? Leaving you hanging?”
A frustrated noise ripped out of your throat. “Don’t you dare!”
Almost—
There was a soft chuckle below you as you closed your eyes. “C’mon, Y/N.” His thumb—
You let out a sharp cry as you came around him, nails raking down his chest and pulling a sharp gasp from his lips before his moans curled along your skin with each clench of your walls around his cock. Your lips parted, heat flushing your body, and you shook in his lap. His name escaped you, filling the room, and finally you sagged against him, breathless and hot.
“Better?” Peter asked cheerfully.
“Yeah,” you gasped, slumping down onto his chest. “Yeah, I’m, I’m good.”
“Glad to be of service.” His hands gently grasped your shoulders, gently stroking, and you felt him twitching inside you.
“You—right, you didn’t,” you managed.
“Nope,” he agreed. “I can take care of it, though.”
You sat up, shaking your head. “No, it’s fine. You can—I’m good. Just give me a second and you can—yeah, go ahead.”
You were on your back before you even realised it, the man kneeling above you, arms caging you in. You gasped as he gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head.
“This ok?” he asked casually.
“Yeah.” You wriggled your hips. “Should’ve known you mutant types were into this.”
Peter just chuckled. “You think a radioctive spider made me kinkier?”
Your thighs slid around his hips. “I’m just saying. You all get worked up so easily and that radioactivity combined with your skintight suit can’t be helping your temper.”
“My deepest,” his hips slid forward to meet yours with a gentle slap, “apologies, Ms. Y/N. Here was me thinking you enjoyed the skintight flight suit and mask.”
You moaned gently. “…all right, maybe it’s not the worst.”
“I knew you secretly liked it.”
And then he was fucking you, driving down into you fast and hard. Your head fell back as you arched up into the movements, heels digging into his back. The sound of them was noisier now after you’d gotten what you needed from him, and you felt less desperate now. You damn well hoped so, after three orgasms.
Possibly four, if he was determined.
His breathing was heavy, and when you looked up, gazing into the brown eyes, you found them lidded and hazy. It was a good look on him. You’d seen the full spectrum of his emotions, and here and now, with him leaned over you, it was the first time there hadn’t been a hint of sadness in there. You bit your lip, wanting to kiss him all of a sudden.
“Feel better?” Peter panted, his large hand spanning your hip, thumb rolling over your clit again.
“Oh fuck,” you whined, eyes fluttering shut, toes curling. “A-again?!”
“Can’t, god, can’t have you waking up in the—the night just to—mmm—get yourself off,” Peter teased with a wavering smirk that was undermined by his breathlessness.
“Much—much appreciated!” You managed to shoot back, but the way he was drilling you like this was rubbing up against your sweet spot, and you were starting to feel that heat coil between your thighs again even though you weren’t certain you’d get there before he did. Still, you cracked your eyes open to look at him, green meeting silver.
“Glad to be of service.”
His eyes shut tightly, and he trembled, his nails digging into your hip as his lips curled back over his teeth. A growl rumbled in his chest and his muscles tensed. It was—god, it was something to watch. You had never had sex with a guy who was as ripped as him before. In the dim light, the cuts and ripples of his muscular chest shone even before. Not to mention the freckles on his nose and that tongue.
“This—fuck—it’s ridiculous,” you complained, the frustration in your words as tattered by the moans that escaped you as his smirk had been. “H-how are you, fuck, this attractive?”
The brown eyes opened, meeting yours. “Keep talking.”
“Nnfuck.” You strained against his hands as took him in. “A-aren’t you d-done yet?”
“No.” It was firm. His thumb moved faster. “Talk.”
“Too good for the d-damn Avengers,” you gasped out, as your toes curled. “Way too good!”
“Yeah?” His voice was ragged all of a sudden.
“Seriously,” you moaned, “you’re all like this- and- god- th-they’ve got sticks- up their-!”
Peter’s thrusting was growing uneven, and you weren’t going to last much longer either. His fingers flexed around your wrists, reminding you of all that power coiled under his touch, capable of pinning you down, of hurting you, but you knew he never would.
His teeth flashed in a grin. “C’mon. Cum.”
You obeyed, tipping over that edge and clamping down on him for the second time this evening as he fucked you through your fourth orgasm. Thumbing at your clit, he was shaking, but he didn’t stop, not until you were groaning from the sudden sensation of too much. Then his hips were sliding away from yours, and the hand on your wrists gripped his cock and stroked rapidly. Twitching, he spilled onto your stomach.
“Fuck,” he breathed, slumping onto his knees.
You were still panting from your own orgasm, the strings of his cum hot and wet on your belly as you lay back. Arms still above your head, your eyes closed, and you let your legs relax, swinging wide open against the floor below you. After a moment, Peter fell to his side next to you, raking his nails through his chestnut curls. Slowly, the sweat began to cool on your skin, and you shivered.
“Let me.”
Peter moved around to your right, and a few moments later, you felt a cloth wiping the mess from your skin. You rubbed your eyes, exhaling heavily.
“That was good,” you murmured.
“Good?” he repeated. “Fuck, I’m losing my edge.”
The cloth left your belly. you rolled over, looking at him. “Fine, fine. I’ll stroke your ego. That was perfect. I needed that.” Your brow arched. “Better?”
Peter grinned. “Absolutely. I enjoyed myself too, in case you were wondering.”
You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Your ego.”
“Almost as big as my dick.” Peter reached for his clothes. “You wanna dress, or sleep naked?”
“Naked,” You replied, pushing yours above your head. “We can just snuggle up.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Peter pulled the blankets back, and shuffled closer to you, rolling you into his arms and tucking you beneath the covers. You curled into the warmth, relaxing.
“Next time you feel the urge, you’re welcome to ask for it whenever,” Peter murmured in your ear.
Your cheeks flushed.
Oftentimes Choso doesn’t realise just how big he is. He gets into the habit of over-exciting himself and rushing into things before you’re ready for him.
And he’d eat you out for hours if you asked him, make you cum on his fingers with so much enthusiasm he’s practically vibrating. Even then, he's so big that pushing into you is always a stretch. Sure, a stretch that has your back arching off the mattress and the most erotic of gasps leaving your lips, but a stretch nonetheless. You always need a minute to adjust and calm yourself before he starts moving.
And those few moments of acclimation to his cock have Choso nearly vibrating in impatience. He loves you, would never move before you're ready for him, but something you can't help but smile and drag out his need just a little longer than necessary. You're more than ready for him to fuck you into the next day, but you keep your hand on his hip to stop him from moving.
And he's doing everything possible to distract himself from the instinctual urge to pull out and slam his length fully inside of you. He's kissing you, forcing his tongue into your mouth for some sort of taste of you. He's doing math in his head and digging his fingers into the pillow your head rests on and he's on the verge of tears when you finally give him the nod.
"Oh thank god," the mental flip in his head switches and he's rutting into you like he's been denied for weeks despite having fucked you only hours prior. "Thank you thank you thank you."